FOURTEEN #3
‘I don’t.’ There was a brief silence on the line. I could tell she was choosing not to make anything of the first comment, which was generous of her. Then she spoke again. ‘So, Burns Night. What’s involved?’
I was glad for the redirect.
‘Down at the pub, the Harbour Bar, they’re putting on a Burns Night.
All the local businesses and the community will be there.
It’d be great for networking and improving relations with the locals.
We are, after all, the interlopers.’ I paused.
‘If you’re up for it. I know it’s not strictly in your contract.’
‘Yes, definitely,’ she said.
‘Brilliant.’ It was out before she’d barely finished her sentence. I dialled it back. ‘Good. You will, of course, be paid for it.’
‘You’ll have to give me a rundown on who’s who in the town,’ she said. ‘I’ve met a few of them, but if you need me to chat to anyone in particular, just let me know.’
‘Of course. I can brief you when I come up and after debrief––’ The words dried in my throat as I said the word and an unbidden alternative version of debriefing Alex popped into my head.
The longest beat of silence followed.
‘Erm, yes… sounds good,’ said Alex, who clearly knew exactly what I was thinking.
‘It does. Yeah.’ Say something normal. ‘We’ll talk before and after. Tactics.’
‘Tactics,’ she repeated the word as if stabilising her own thoughts.
‘Right. Next week, then.’
‘Yeah. Next week.’
I ended the call and dropped my head into my hands.
When did I suddenly get so unprofessional?
Noah chose that precise moment to wander through, took one look at me, grabbed his water bottle from the side and retreated without saying a single word.
Even an eight-year-old knew when to leave well enough alone.
I wasn’t allowed to dwell on my embarrassment for long. My phone pinged an alert that someone was waiting to be let into the car park. I looked at the screen.
Aaron and Dom.
I hadn’t invited them exactly. Aaron had texted to say they were coming over, and I’d learned long ago that arguing with that particular message was a waste of energy.
They brought beer and a pizza that was already half cold by the time they arrived. The three of us sat around the kitchen island, as we had since we were teenagers, except now the penthouse was considerably larger than the kitchen in our childhood home.
We talked about the Sinclair Group acquisition for a while, and then about the meeting I’d had with Harry and Louise, what still needed doing before we could take the first veterans. Useful, necessary conversation.
Then my phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at it. Set it face down.
Aaron clocked it. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Grainger update,’ I said.
‘Right.’ He took a long pull of his beer. ‘A Grainger update. Thought you’d already had that.’
‘As I said, an update. Grainger’s condition needs monitoring.’
Dom said nothing. He was looking at the ceiling. Avoiding eye contact and pretending not to be entertained.
‘Oliver,’ said Aaron. ‘I say this with genuine fraternal affection. You have called that woman every single day since Grainger got out of hospital. Daily updates, yeah but hourly updates?’
‘She’s providing medical oversight of an employee on our property. I also need to make sure she’s okay. Up there with no backup. I’m checking in. That’s all.’
‘You’re checking in,’ Aaron repeated, as if tasting the words. ‘Right. How’s his ankle? When is the cast coming off?’
I paused half a second too long.
Dom sucked air between his teeth and shook his head at me.
‘You don’t know, do you?’ said Aaron. ‘Because you weren’t actually asking about his ankle.’
‘This week,’ I said, gathering my thoughts quickly. ‘Tuesday.’
‘Mm.’ He set his bottle down. ‘And how’s Alex?’
I stood up and went to get another beer from the fridge. ‘Fine.’
‘Fine,’ said Dom, looking back up at the ceiling.
‘She says she’s fine,’ I said.
‘Do you believe her?’ asked Aaron.
I opened my beer. ‘Drop it.’
‘Hang on a second,’ said Aaron.
He looked at Dom. Dom looked back at him in the way they did when they were communicating without speaking, which I had found irritating for approximately thirty-five years.
‘Just to recap,’ Aaron continued, ‘you’re calling her every day to “check in”, and you’re going back up there next weekend for Burns Night.’
‘For community relations––’
‘Community relations,’ said Dom. ‘Jesus, Oliver. Is that the best you can come up with?’
‘She saved Noah’s life,’ I said.
It came out more bluntly than I intended.
The ribbing stopped. Both of them looked at me properly.
‘We know,’ said Aaron.
‘And she’s up there alone with a sixty-something grumpy Falklands veteran and approximately no one else.’ I sat back down. ‘So yes. I call. And yes, I’m going up there next weekend.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘That’s fair,’ said Dom.
Aaron picked up his pizza. ‘You could just say you like her, you know. We’re not going to make it weird.’
‘You’re already making it weird.’
‘I’m making it warm,’ said Aaron. ‘There’s a difference, isn’t there, Dom?’
‘Absolutely.’
I told them both to shut up. Neither of them did, but they let the subject drop, which was the closest thing to mercy Aaron Laker had ever shown another human being.