Chapter Six - Georgie
My arm hooked through his, Borje and I stroll through the City centre. He’s strangely quiet.
People are out and about: window-shoppers, loafers and strollers, but the weather is sizzling, and the heat is slowing everyone down, turning the buzz of walker, runner and talker alike to a slow, easy rhythm.
At first, I put Borje’s silence down to the heat.
“You seem tired?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Fine?
Empathy’s not my strong suit, but...
“Don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”
“Absolutely.” He puffs out his cheeks, blowing air. He flashes brows, looking more his usual self. “Something cold where I have to blow the froth from the top.” He aims a finger to half a dozen tables outside a kiosk. “How about there? We’ll be under the shade of trees.”
A waiter spots us
