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‘It’s not as impressive as it sounds.’ He shrugged.
‘I think it probably is.’ Carrie briefly imagined Rory in a wet suit and noticed her pulse quicken. ‘When you say neutralising, you mean…’
‘Defusing them, yes. I mean, that’s not all I did. Intelligence-gathering was a large part of the job, too.’
‘How do you do that from underwater?’ Carrie leaned forward on her elbows, genuinely fascinated.
‘You do it in pairs, usually. There’s specialist equipment. Swim underwater into a particular area and then pop above the water, take a reading, go back under again. I’m simplifying the process, of course.’
‘Wow. That really is Boy’s Own Adventure stuff.’
He gave a small smile. ‘Anyway, I’m going to be away, maybe for a few weeks, maybe longer. So, I have to close the restaurant. I’m so sorry. You’ve only just started.’
‘Oh. I see.’ Carrie nodded. Of course, the restaurant couldn’t run without the head chef.
‘I can pay you a bit while we’re closed. Not full wages, but maybe half? I’m sorry. I just can’t afford more than that.’ He wrung his hands, looking anxious. ‘I don’t want to go, but I have to.’
‘I understand. It’s okay. And you don’t have to pay me anything while you’re gone,’ Carrie offered.
He shook his head vehemently. ‘No, I want to give you something. It’s not fair, just having to close this suddenly.’
‘But I understand,’ Carrie said, taking another sip of her coffee. ‘It sounds like it’s just the way things are in your profession – well, reserve-profession. So, you don’t know how long you’ll be away?’
‘No. As I say, definitely weeks. Maybe longer.’ He sighed. ‘Honestly, it’s bringing up a lot of stuff for me, but I’m trying not to think about it.’
‘What stuff?’ she asked, before realising it was too personal a question. ‘Sorry. Ignore that.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ Rory sighed again. ‘I never talk about it, but I’ve started seeing a therapist, and she says I should.’
‘A therapist?’ Carrie shook her head. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound surprised. That’s good. More people should see therapists. I should, probably,’ she added. ‘Anyway, I’m happy to listen if you do want to tell me.’
‘Okay, well…’ He trailed off. ‘I was away a lot with work. You get posted abroad, as you can imagine.’
‘Sure.’
‘I worked in some very far-flung places. I saw active duty in the Gulf, in the Indian Ocean, in the Mediterranean. I can’t tell you what I did specifically.’
‘Okay.’ Carrie finished her coffee. The stool was pretty uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to move. ‘Traumatic things? I know it’s not uncommon for people in the military to have PTSD.’
‘No, it’s not uncommon. A few of my old mates got that, but for me, it was never the job. I loved the job. Made me feel alive.’ He blinked. ‘No. I was in a relationship when I joined up, and we stayed together for the first few years. It was hard, keeping the long-distance thing going, but we tried – I’d get leave, and sometimes I’d be working somewhere like the Caribbean, and she could come out and join me. Those times were pretty nice. But then we broke up.’ His face darkened at those words.
‘What happened?’ Carrie asked, gently.
‘Hmm. It was… a bad break-up, I guess you’d say.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘So, I don’t mind being asked to go back and deliver this specialist training, but it’s just making me think about all this stuff again. Like, I always do anyway, because of the therapy, but this is bringing other things back.’ He drummed his fingertips on the counter top. ‘Stuff I used to do when I was in service. Not, like, terrible things in terms of killing people or anything. But the ways I used to cope, I suppose.’
‘We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.’ Carrie’s expression darkened as she thought of the moments in the car before the accident: of her turning up the music, knowing that Claire was having trouble concentrating.
And when you need me in the dead of night,I’m just a minute away… ooh, ooh.
She had been trying to irritate her sister. And that distraction had meant that Claire had died. Carrie’s gorge rose: for a moment she thought she was going to be sick at the sudden memory of the accident. She must have made a strange noise, because Rory shot her an odd look.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘You look terrible, suddenly.’
‘I’m okay.’ Carrie cleared her throat. ‘I just… it doesn’t matter.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rory looked concerned. ‘Do you feel ill?’
‘No, it’s not that. I just…’ She trailed off. ‘I just know what you mean. About… what you do to cope with difficult feelings. I try not to think about Claire, but pretty regularly it kind of overwhelms me, you know?’
