Chapter 83: Whispers – 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, leaping into action. Whisking a cloth over the top of a small table, he pulls out a seat then offers it to me, brows raised, palm outstretched.

I have to laugh at his efficient opportunism. "Sounds good."