EBSTER DIDN’T KNOW what had possessed him to invite the young man to walk with him. Or foist himself upon him, he supposed, given that the poor bloke was simply walking the fastest route home. Bad luck about the car. Hopefully the garage could sort it for him in the morning.
He settled his pack and looked at his companion. “All set?” he asked.
Kevin nodded, retrieving a messenger bag from the back seat and slinging it across his body. He was a nice-looking bloke. A bit younger than Webster’s own thirty-nine, mid-twenties, maybe? Difficult to tell...he had long, preternaturally grey hair twisted into dreadlocks and pulled back tidily to his nape with a band. Heavy, fair brows, a straight nose, full lips. Tired looking.
“Bad week?” Webster found himself asking, as they hit the footpath th
