Chapter 1
Phil
The pub is louderthan usual, the kind of loud that vibrates through the wood of the table and settles somewhere behind my eyes. England is playing, which means half of Fellside has crammed itself into The Cricketers, pints in hand and opinions ready. Every near miss earns a collective groan. Every promising run forward pulls everyone to the edge of their seats like we can influence the outcome through sheer emotional investment.
I lean back in my chair and take a sip of my pint, letting the bitter taste ground me. It’s been one of those days where nothing stays fixed. I spent the morning repairing a leaking gutter at Fellside Manor, only to discover the water had rotted through half the fascia board. Then a door refused to close properly. Then a radiator decided it had lived a full and meaningful life and wanted to retire without notice.
Being the handyman for the National Trust property just outside the village means I am the person everything breaks for. Most days, I like it. I like solving problems. Ilike the quiet satisfaction of putting something back into working order.
Today, though, everything fought back.
What I need now is this. A pint. Noise that isn’t directed at me. And maybe, if the football gods feel generous, an England win.
Beside me, Alex’s typing on his phone with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He hasn’t reacted to the match once. Not when England nearly scored. Not when the referee made a questionable call. Nothing.
“You’re not even watching,” I say.
“I am,” he replies automatically, without looking up.
He isn’t.
I’ve known Alex long enough to recognise the difference.
We met five years ago, halfway up Scafell Pike in weather that had no business existing outside disaster films. We’d both underestimated the forecast. By the time the storm hit, visibility had vanished and turning back wasn’t an option. We ended up sheltering behind the same outcrop of rock, two strangers pretending not to be relieved we weren’t alone.
There’s something about shared discomfort that cuts through social awkwardness. By the time the storm passed, we weren’t strangers anymore.
Now he’s my closest friend. My climbing partner. My teammate in Fellside Mountain Rescue.
He’s also the exact opposite of me in most social situations.
Where I hesitate, he moves.
Where I think, he acts.
Where I disappear into the background, he fills the room without trying.
The smile on his face grows slightly.
“Emma?” I ask.
That gets his attention. He glances up, caught.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t even try to pretend otherwise.
Emma changed him. Before her, Alex treated relationships like temporary arrangements. Nothing serious. Nothing lasting. Then she walked into his life and, somehow, his priorities shifted.
I’m happy for him. Truly.
He deserves someone who sees him clearly.
Still, it means she’s around more.
And where Emma goes, Christina tends to follow.
The thought alone tightens something low in my stomach.