Six

“How is your article coming along, Mr. Seven?”

Tor smiles at him. Always the same smile, as if waiting patiently for something.

“Very good,” Eric lies quickly. “I would like to borrow a bike, however.”

Does he imagine that Tor hesitates for a fraction of a second before answering?

“Of course,” Tor says. “May I offer you some tea?”

Without waiting for an answer, Tor ducks into the kitchen in the Cross House.

Eric feels frustration rising. He has decided not to mention the missing charger, but he’s not going to be sidetracked.

He hears voices in the kitchen, and is about to creep closer over the wooden floor, when Tor reappears, cup of tea in hand.

“Here you are,” he says.

Eric takes it, somewhat churlishly.

“I usually take milk.”

“This is better without it,” Tor says, smiling. “Trust me. This is a special variety, with a touch of root in it, too. Now…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I am here to work and I really could use a bicycle to get around. And a map of the island.”

Tor holds up his hand.

“I have arranged the bicycle. It will be here shortly. Why don’t you sit while you wait, and drink your tea? And I’m sure I can find a map for you somewhere. You must be a little tired still, I think, no?”

As soon as Tor mentions it, Eric does feel a wave of exhaustion come over him.

“The tea will help,” Tor says, as Eric sits down on a very old but very comfortable sofa. “Now, where’s that map?”

Eric drinks his tea.