Chapter Two
Walker
Walker rubbed at his stubble, looking at himself in the mirror under the bright white of the bathroom lights, and sighed.
He looked tired. He patted his cheeks and ran his hands through his hair, before shaking himself, physically.
Time to throw off the night and get on with his day. He had shit to do.
He turned on the shower, dropped the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped under the jet. This would help. It always did.
As he soaped and lathered, he remembered the dream that had woken him in the night.
It had been enough to make him sit bolt upright and cry out loud, his eyes searching the dark of the room.
It was the same as always. The images that had haunted him since he was young.
The sting of the ice on his skin. His scream coming out as a white plume of air.
He plunged his head under the shower, trying to clear his dark thoughts.
As he dried himself, he wondered whether he’d woken Alex in his bedroom next door with the nightmare.
He pressed his eyes shut and hoped fervently that Alex had slept through without hearing a thing.
Walker had lived alone since he’d bought his first flat and had only recently started sharing when Alex moved to Honeybridge in the autumn.
And anyway, it wasn’t like these dreams happened every night. Already it was fading.
He rubbed himself roughly with the towel, pleased to see more colour in his face, more spark in his eyes. Appearances were important. He had to look organised, controlled. It was important so that people could rely on him. He knew what people expected of firefighters.
Physically and mentally, they had to be fit and strong.
He had no problems there. But more importantly, they had to want to help people – which was what he tried to do every day.
It was the only thing that helped keep the nightmares at bay.
He towelled off his broad shoulders and checked his watch. Time for the gym before his shift.
In his bedroom, his duvet was crumpled and creased, as though he’d clutched at it, and he tugged it over the bed and smoothed it out, ready to come back to after his shift.
He’d be exhausted, he knew that already.
He caught himself smiling. What thirtysomething, fit, single man was making their bed on a Saturday morning with a desire to get back into it later – alone? To sleep? He laughed.
It wasn’t that the bed didn’t see action.
It did, often. But it didn’t see regular action with the same girl – or hadn’t for a while.
His last girlfriend, Mia, had taken a transfer with the brigade for a promotion and the long-distance thing, when coupled with two different shift patterns, just didn’t work.
Weekends together got less frequent, date nights became impossible and eventually the relationship was non-existent.
Since then, the last few years had been casual and fun and nothing serious.
Pick-ups at the local nightclub, The Bolthole, the odd date with someone through work.
Which was all fine, Walker thought, as it meant that tonight, he’d be getting his bed to himself. He plumped the pillow in anticipation.
His phone rang. Etienne. He pressed green.
‘Morning, buddy—’ he said but he was immediately cut off.
‘Isabella’s got a leak in her apartment. Looks like the old sprinkler system for the restaurant in the attic.’
‘On my way.’ Walker pulled his T-shirt over his head and sprinted from the room. In an emergency, speed was everything. And he wouldn’t be the one to let his friends down.