Page 121 of Brighter Together

No lecture. No questions about whether dating someone who works for me is sensible. He knows me well enough to understand I will already have worried about all of it more than anybody else possibly could.

“Thanks.”

I pick up the biscuit, mostly so I have something to do with my hands.

Alex takes a sip of tea and drags his fingers over his left pec.

I point the biscuit at him. “Now tell me why you’re actually here.”

His expression immediately sobers.

“Rob called me this morning. He’s been back to the doctor and they’ve extended his recovery by another eight weeks,” he says and scratches just beneath his left collarbone.

“Fuck off.”

That is not what I wanted to hear.

Rob damaged his leg badly on the rescue a month ago, and every update seems to push his return further away.

Eight more weeks leaves us in trouble, especially now we’re heading into the time of year when snow can fall on the hills without much warning. Unprepared tourists are enough of a risk in summer; once the weather turns, they become an even bigger one. Trainers and optimism don’t count as winter equipment.

With Rob still unable to go out and Suzie close to giving birth, we’re already stretched. One person ill or away at the wrong time and we risk dropping below the minimum number needed for a callout, which means the control room will call another unit first even if we’re on the rota.

I rub a hand over the back of my neck.

“Why did he call you rather than me?” I ask.

“He was going to call you. He wanted some advice first because he knew you’d immediately start worrying about cover.” He gives his left pec another quick scratch.

“That is because cover is a problem.”

“Exactly. Which is why I told him I’d speak to you. I might have found someone who can help us.”

I sit forward. “Who?”

Alex rubs his chest again.

Then does it again.

I frown. “Before you explain that, have you got a rash or is this some new mating display?”

He glances down.

“No. Tattoo.”

I stare at him. “You got a tattoo?”

“Yes.” He shrugs like it is not a big deal.

“When?”

“A few days ago. A new place opened in the village.”

I’m still trying to picture Alex voluntarily walking into a tattoo studio.

“I didn’t even know you wanted one.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“I wanted something for Emma.”