Chapter 12

12

Bess had just come off shift. She'd finished late after a job and the paperwork it entailed. As she drove out of the airbase, the skies had taken on a rich cobalt blue and the air was crisp with a promise of the upcoming festive season.

Today had been busy – four jobs in Hilda and one in the rapid response vehicle to finish up with. But no lives had been lost so despite the exhaustion, she'd take it as a win.

Inside her bag, her phone bleeped. It would be her mum. Again. Since the day Bess had fled after overhearing her mum and Malcolm talking, she had come up with every excuse in the book to avoid seeing her mother – extra shifts at work, a Christmas party, a seasonal dinner with friends, a head cold, going to a Christmas light display. Because the truth was, she was embarrassed: embarrassed at having to ask for money, that Malcolm knew, and mortified at what her dad would say if he was here to see the mess she'd got herself into. Bess had used the ￡500 from her mum to cover a credit card payment and a payday loan repayment but as soon as one thing was dealt with, it seemed another appeared in its place, leaving her no closer to climbing out of the quagmire. Her debts continued to loom over her like the huge, threatening, black clouds that sometimes prevented The Skylarks from getting airborne to save lives.

As she drove away from the airbase, she wondered what Malcolm thought of her. Did he think she was a sponger? An adult acting like a kid when the chips were down? She didn't usually pay much attention to what other people thought of her personal life; she was forever telling others to do the same, that their personal life was their business and nobody else's. But in this situation, she was finding it nigh on impossible to take her own advice.

She stopped at the Stop sign before signalling and turning right. She approached the next junction but slowed as a person on crutches tried to cross to the other side the best they could. Which wasn't exactly quick.

When she saw the man's profile illuminated by a nearby house bedecked in what had to be hundreds if not thousands of fairy lights, she realised it was Gio. She must've been too focused on her own problems to recognise him at first.

She wound down her window. ‘Gio!' she called out but he didn't stop and so she drove on and pulled in on the left where he was ambling along the pavement the best he could.

Crutches still fixed underarm, he stopped level with her car and bent his head so he could see in the passenger side to where she'd leaned across and opened the window.

‘Good to see you on your feet,' she told him.

‘I needed the fresh air. And I needed to move. I'm getting better with these.' He lifted one of the metal crutches ever so slightly.

‘Want a lift the rest of the way home?'

‘Now that would defeat the object of getting out for some exercise. '

As he shifted his weight, even his high-wattage smile didn't hide that he'd pushed it tonight and was trying not to admit defeat. It was the sort of smile she'd seen when they were sharing a house, when his mother had called him or he'd paid her a visit, a smile that said there was plenty going on in his life that he wasn't about to divulge.

‘I'm thinking you've been out a while already, am I right?' Bess persisted.

‘I did a lap around the block, first time.'

She flipped the catch on the passenger door to open it slightly.

Still he resisted. ‘I'm quite capable of going the fifty metres or so that it is to my house; I'm not an invalid.'

She sighed. ‘Would you put a sock in it, Gio, and let me help. We're friends; friends are there for each other. And besides, it'll make me feel good about myself.'

He gave up the protest when she climbed out to go around to the passenger side and help him negotiate getting in the car.

She was holding the crutches, their bodies almost touching, they were in such close proximity. He had one hand on the top of the car, the other on the door frame. And suddenly, he looked upwards to the sky.

‘Breathtaking.' The single word made her look up too. ‘I'm still getting used to the beauty of Dorset.'

‘Told you you'd love it.' She followed his gaze to a cluster of sparkling stars. Bess had grown up in Dorset but even when she lived elsewhere for a while, she'd never forgotten the county's big, open skies, the incredible beauty of the scenery all around them.

‘So have I made you feel good about yourself?' he asked her, still hovering between the car door and the pavement .

‘You can't help yourself with the flirting, can you? We've been friends a long time; are you running out of women to try it with?'

He laughed. ‘No, I'm being myself with you, that's all. So does it work?'

Bess was taken aback by him saying he was being himself. He'd never outwardly flirted with her, not for years anyway, because their friendship set unspoken rules neither of them had broken. But Bess knew her feelings for Gio had evolved since he'd come down to Dorset. She hadn't realised it at first; it had crept up on her until the day of his accident when seeing him there on the ground and in danger had made her heart constrict in a way that told her this might be more than friendship.

But the flirting remark stood. He'd always been a flirt and she'd seen him in action. Bess knew dating Gio would be fun – a whole lot of fun, in fact – but then what? It would crash and burn like all his relationships and their friendship would be left in tatters.

‘Look, it's really cold out here,' she said, ‘so if you don't just get in, I might drive away and forget to give these crutches back.'

‘That would be cruel.' He was still leaning on top of the open passenger-side door, amused.

‘Just get in.'

Once he was in and the crutches safely stowed, she drove to his.

She pulled up outside a home not too dissimilar to her cottage in age with a neatly kept front garden behind a low-slung gate.

‘You want to come in for a coffee?' His smile faltered. ‘I could really use the company.'

If he flirted with her again when they were inside, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop the way her mind and body seemed to want to react. And that could only spell disaster for both of them .

‘I can come in for a bit,' she said.

‘Good. And I promise, no flirting.'

Had he read her mind?

‘Unless you want me to,' he said.

Bess laughed it off as she got out of the car. Gio's personality was still intact and she wondered whether he was compensating, flirting with her to try to prove that he was the man he'd always been. Knowing Gio the way she did, being injured wasn't just physical for him. There was a whole lot of mental anguish wrapped up in it as well. Not being able to work would be devastating and she could understand what that must feel like for him. When she'd had her health scare, she'd had to take some time off to fit in her appointments; when her dad died, she took a lengthy leave for herself and to support her mum, but on some days, it had been a form of agony. That time away from work had been necessary, had helped in both cases, but equally, it had kept her away from doing what she loved. She knew even now that with her mounting debts, the days she went to work kept her sane, kept her perspective, gave her a form of support she could never do without.

As Gio turned in the passenger seat, Bess got out, retrieved the crutches and got around to his side of the car. He didn't have a driveway so she'd parked right outside his property, which was on a quiet road.

‘Where's your mum?' she asked as she followed him slowly up the garden path. He was good on the crutches but wouldn't be winning any races just yet.

‘She's at work; for once, she's managed to hold a job down.' Inside the house, he leant his crutches against the wall while he took off his coat. The house was warm, and he yanked his jumper over his head. ‘Right, Bess, how do you want it?'

‘Excuse me? '

‘The coffee.' Crutches tucked beneath his armpits once again, he braced, the tendons in his forearms showing off the firefighter's physique. ‘What did you think I meant?'

‘Okay, enough innuendo, you're trying to make me embarrassed and you should know by now that it won't work.'

‘Sorry, not being on the job means I have to do something for my amusement. Anything. Follow me, I'll get us the coffee. No more clever remarks, promise.'

She followed him into the kitchen. ‘Black for me, no sugar.'

‘Coming right up.'

He had a coffee machine like she did and busied himself making them each a cup. Bess loved her own coffee machine – she'd bought a posh one. But over the last week or so when she made a cup, it seemed to mock her from its position on the kitchen counter, because it had been yet another purchase she hadn't really been able to afford. It had made her feel good at the time, of course, but that was what had sent her down this destructive path in the first place.

‘How is it having your mum staying with you in your space?' she asked as she thanked him for the mug he passed her. With their busy lives, they didn't catch up nearly as often as Bess would've liked and not seeing him when they crossed paths at work had made her miss his company all the more.

‘Challenging.' He met her gaze. ‘She's helpful – too helpful – and she fusses, which I suppose isn't a bad thing, but I kind of like living on my own. I'd rather hobble around or drag myself around some days than have someone waiting on me hand and foot. But…' He shrugged as if there might well be more to say. In all the time they'd known each other, Bess had got a handle on how complicated things were in his family, but he'd never really got down to the nitty-gritty details. Perhaps some of that was as a coping mechanism; the rest could be pride .

He indicated for her to go through to the lounge.

She knew what he was thinking: he was wondering how he could swat away her help and still get his mug to the lounge whilst on crutches. ‘Just let me take it for you.'

‘Fine.' He reluctantly let her pick up his coffee as well as hers.

‘Sometimes, you've got to accept a little help.'

They settled in the lounge and he thanked her for staying. ‘Company other than my mother's makes me feel semi-normal.'

‘I see my mother often, she doesn't live that far away, but having a parent living with you must be a whole different ball game. How long is she staying for?'

‘Not sure yet.' He took a tentative sip of hot coffee. ‘Come on, give me some work talk.'

‘You sound desperate.'

‘I am, believe me. And you might be a critical care paramedic rather than a firefighter, but I'll take it. I need action talk. I want to hear about emergency scenarios, jobs, anything. The closest I've come to that is watching TV shows.'

Bess ran through today's emergency, the one where firefighters were on the scene. She gave her best descriptions; he was engaged, asked questions, and at the end, he leaned back against the soft sofa with a big smile.

‘That better?' she asked, watching him close his eyes, satisfied with some shop talk. He was a handsome man with a chiselled jaw and a physique that was hard to look away from.

‘Man, I miss the job.' He opened his eyes, looked at his leg.

‘I'm not really cheering you up, am I? Maybe we should talk about something else.'

‘You're doing better than you think you are.' When he locked eyes with her, she shifted a little. It was that same look he'd given her time and time again when they met at an emergency or when he showed up at the air ambulance base in support of The Skylarks' fundraising events. The emergency services all tended to do that for each other – equally, she'd been to open days at the fire station and watched him do his demonstrations or talk about his job. The best times were when he had a group of kids to talk to. To look at him, you'd think he had no appeal to the younger audience but he came alive in a different way when kids showed up, as if he understood them and knew just how to get on their wavelength.

‘Does the knee still hurt?' she asked.

‘Only when I move it too much. And the brace helps, stops me twisting it the wrong way or knocking it.'

‘And the walk before, when I picked you up, was that too much?'

‘More on my arms using those crutches than anything else.'

His arms looked strong enough from where she was sitting, and she noticed his biceps, the way the sleeves of his T-shirt hugged them.

‘Are you doing all the exercises they give you?'

‘Religiously.'

‘That's good.' And now she'd run out of things to say, aware that here she was sitting in close proximity to Gio and it felt different to all the times they'd done this before. They were still friends but her feelings had begun to spill over into more when they absolutely couldn't, not if she wanted to avoid making even more of a mess of her life than she already had. Gio wasn't the sort of man you went out with if you wanted a serious, stable future. He was fun, a right here, right now kind of guy, and she had enough recklessness with her finances. She didn't need to add it in to her personal life too.

‘Bess—'

‘This coffee is good.' She didn't want him to say anything that would make things between them complicated .

‘I'm glad you like it. Could do with one of those brownies Nadia made to go with it.'

‘Me too, they were good.'

‘How about dinner?'

‘Dinner?' She set her mug down on the coffee table. ‘Now?'

‘Not now, no. But dinner some time, me and you. We haven't met up for ages, not properly.'

‘We're meeting up now.'

‘We used to go for lunch frequently; we haven't done that in weeks.'

‘Life is busy.' When he grunted, she cringed. ‘Sorry, you're stuck here and not working, I didn't mean to rub your nose in it.'

‘So help me out. Don't rub my nose in it; agree to letting me take you out for dinner.'

‘You mean like a date?' Dinner together was one thing, but taking her out? ‘Gio, I'm not sure?—'

‘You think it'll complicate things.'

‘We're friends; we're on the job together.'

‘We don't work together, not really. And yes, we're friends, but I'd say that's a good thing. So what other excuses have you got?'

She was all out. She did want to go on a date, she wanted nothing more than to say yes to him. She just knew that she shouldn't.

‘I don't want to ruin things. I'm not in the right headspace to start something with anyone,' she said truthfully. ‘And I don't think you are either.'

‘I've hurt my knee, not my head or any other part of my anatomy.'

His voice was teasing and her mind went to the anatomy she knew lay beneath his clothes. She'd seen him enough times in action to know how strong he was and her imagination right now was running riot. She'd seen him around the house too, back when they shared a place with other people, when he'd sauntered downstairs for breakfast in nothing more than tracksuit pants hung low at the waist, the rest of his body on display. None of the housemates thought anything of walking around in their pyjamas; why would they when it was their home? But every time Gio had come into the room, Bess had felt uneasy, as if her gaze was constantly drawn in his direction. She should've known back then that if she was to admit it to herself, she thought about a lot more than friendship when it came to Gio Mayhan.

‘When I get back on my feet, literally,' he said, ‘I will take you to dinner.'

‘Gio, I?—'

‘Try not to overthink it. We'll go to dinner, have a good time, what do you say?'

‘We'll see.' The words were out before she really registered them.

He punched the air.

‘I said, we'll see.' But she was laughing at his boyish enthusiasm.

‘It's not a no; I'll take this as a good sign.'

She liked that he seemed a little happier, more upbeat.

But that changed when there was the sound of the front door opening.

Gio frowned. ‘She's not supposed to be home yet.' And then he called out a little louder, ‘You're home early.'

A voice hollered back, ‘Mix-up with the jobs today so earlier finish and an earlier start in the morning.'

Gio's mum came into the lounge and when she spotted Bess, she beamed a smile her way. ‘I didn't realise you had company, Gio.' She smoothed the front of the shirt she wore over faded jeans. ‘And look at me, I'm in a state from work. '

‘Don't apologise,' said Bess. ‘I'm in my scruffs too.' She waved her hand down the sweatshirt and jeans she'd thrown on to make the trip from the airbase to home. ‘It's good to see you again.'

‘Same, love. Good to see you too.'

Gio eyed the carrier bags still hanging from each of her hands. ‘Tonight's meal?'

‘I have my uses.' She went into the kitchen and called back, ‘Are you staying, Bess?'

‘Thanks for the offer but I need to go,' Bess replied.

Gio leaned closer, his good leg almost touching hers. ‘Wise choice. She'll be force feeding me meat pie, potatoes and peas.'

‘That doesn't sound too bad to me.'

‘It is when you've had it for the last four days straight.'

Bess laughed quietly, enjoying the proximity, trying to imagine how it might feel to go out with this man for dinner, whether it would be better than the other disastrous dates she'd had over the years. Would he turn out to be the guy she'd always assumed him to be? Or would he be this more laid-back, genuine soul who might just be hiding a bit of himself away from the rest of the world?

‘Mum wasn't exactly one to be in the kitchen over the years,' Gio confided, ‘so I think her repertoire is limited.'

‘My mum is the opposite; she loves being in the kitchen.' He was still sitting so close to her that her pulse was racing. They'd been this close plenty of times over the years but never had it felt the way it did now.

‘Home baking growing up?' he asked to the sound of clanging pots and pans coming from the kitchen. ‘Lucky you.'

‘She sounds like she's finding her way around the kitchen now. '

‘Hmm…' His breath fell across her cheek when he called out, ‘Need some help in there?'

Marianne came through with a head of broccoli in one hand. ‘All under control. Just couldn't find your chopping board.'

‘It's beside the microwave.'

She rolled her eyes. ‘I had every cupboard out looking for it.'

‘You should've?—'

‘Asked, I know.' She smiled in Bess's direction before heading back to the kitchen.

‘Looks like you're having broccoli,' Bess told him. ‘It's green, but it's not peas.'

‘That's one of the things I love about you, Bess: your positivity.' His lips parted as if he might want to say more.

But Bess looked away quickly. ‘I really should go.' When Marianne had asked whether she was staying for dinner, she had been kind of tempted and she knew Gio would've gone for it. But she'd been here longer than she'd intended already.

‘Thanks for bringing me home,' he said as he manoeuvred the crutches under his arms to walk her to the door. ‘And thanks for the company.' He stayed in the doorway after Bess got her coat on and stepped outside. ‘I'll see you soon. We'll go for that dinner.'

She answered him with a smile. She couldn't manage much else.

Her phone beeped again with a message from her mum as she got into the car and then again when she got back home, so she plucked up the courage and called her, promising she'd be over to visit soon.

‘You're out again this evening?' her mum asked.

‘It's almost Christmas; Noah and Maya have organised drinks.'

‘I was going to stop round; I haven't seen you in a while. '

‘Another time, Mum. We'll do it soon.'

When she hung up, she fired off a text to Noah to say that she would join them this evening in the pub. It hadn't been a formal invite; it wasn't drinks for the entire team, just a casual suggestion if she had nothing else to do. And right now, she could do with the company. Otherwise, she wasn't too sure she wouldn't go back to see Gio. And whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.

Right now, she wanted easy friendship, banter, distraction, and the platonic side to Bess and Gio seemed to be long forgotten, especially for her.

And so she drove to the pub. She should be at home, saving the money, but she needed sanity, an escape. What was another tenner in the grand scheme of things?

It was a drop in the ocean.