A BELL ON ONE OF THOSE curly metal springs jangles, bobbing up and down as we enter. Borje strolls in. I scuttle behind him. From behind the counter, a girl smiles across, her eyes flicking between me and Borje together. “Can I help with anything?”
Borje tone is airy. “Just looking for now.”
“No problem,” she says. “Just call if you need any help.”
Help?
I mutter without thinking, meaning to keep my words to myself. “What on earth would anyone want to ask help for in a place like this?”
Borje glances at me askance, the airiness gone from his tone. “She’s being paid to do a job. There’s no need for you to be rude about it. As for what... Asking where to find a particular item? Trying on some of the outfits... Help and advice with what some of the equipment does. In fact, most of what y
