‘But he helped out at the fund raiser . . .’ I babble, frowning as I try to make sense of what the firefighter is saying. ‘He was working that day . . . so he said . . .’ I add, realising I’m starting to sound a little stalkerish here.
The firefighter laughs. ‘Helped feels like a bit of a stretch; honestly, we barely saw him. He spent most of the morning inside, skulking around near the food stalls. He wasn’t supposed to be there anyway though; we were all surprised then he suddenly turned up. In fact,’ he adds, ‘I was only there to cover for him, that’s why I’m here today too.’
I look up at him, a cold thread of worry snaking through me. ‘That sucks having to give up your Christmas and New Year plans. I hope you aren’t too p.issed at him, having to cover for him at such short notice.’
