Burning Yves (Benedicts #2.5) Read Online Free Page B

their wing. Neither had acted as though he lacked sophistication or was too geeky to be seen with them, even Ingrid who, like most Swedish people Yves had met, was incredibly well travelled and spoke three foreign languages fluently. He was coming round to the view that maybe people didn’t see him the same way he saw himself, which was a relief.
    ‘Yeah, amazing. But maybe the most remarkable aspect is that it’s being delivered on time.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’ve read somewhere that the paint’s still wet on most Olympic projects when the sportsmen and women arrive. This looks to be well in hand.’
    ‘Good on the Brits for that,’ said Jo, an American student from Georgia. ‘I’d be worried all that same if I were coming to the games. I hear they’ve stationed rocket launchers on nearby skyscrapers to deter terrorist attacks.’
    Yves wondered if his own tower was part of the defence. It would be like Victor to choose a building with a lethal weapon on the top. ‘It would be a bit late to stop catastrophe if they’re firing rockets from here.’
    ‘Good morning, everyone.’ The woman who was to be their guide arrived carrying a rolled umbrella. Yves guessed this was a marker for them to follow rather than in anticipation of rain. London was disappointingly not like its cliché of fog and drizzle, presenting him with a cloudless sky. He, like many of the other students, had opted to wear shorts, sandals and T-shirt. ‘Welcome to Lee Valley. Where you are standing used to be one of the most polluted brown field sites in London; thanks to the Olympic investment, we’ve now turned it into this.’ She swept her hand at the green lawns and warm-up running tracks. ‘If you follow me, I’d like first to show you our wildflower meadow. It’s just coming into its own. We’ll then go on into the stadium itself.’
    Yves followed on the edge of the crowd, but something nagged at the back of his mind, like a task undone or a name he couldn’t quite remember. He shook out cramp in his arms, reminding himself he should pay attention to what the guide said but somehow the words weren’t lodging in his head. Instead his focus was on the construction vehicles moving in and out of the stadium like bees returning to a hive. Reversing backwards and forwards, one even looked like it was doing a waggle dance, the way worker bees signalled the location of the best flowers.
    A girl had arrived next to Jo and Ingrid, engaging them in conversation. She looked surprisingly frail and unkempt, a little too thin, knees and palms dirty as if she had been gardening. He couldn’t quite see her face as strands of inexpertly cut dark hair flopped forward. He didn’t remember noticing her at the orientation the night before, and frankly she wasn’t quite right for a science student. He wasn’t sure how he knew that but her manner had set off his inner warning system. He moved a little closer to see if he could overhear their conversation. Ingrid was now talking about the roofing material and the girl hunched forward, hands dug in her pockets. Her long brown legs looked nice in the faded denim shorts, her figure neat in her clinging tank T-shirt. Yves was annoyed with himself for noticing; he should be more respectful to the girls at the conference. He moved away before he dug himself a deeper hole of disrespect, telling himself she was none of his business. If she wasn’t meant to be there and had gatecrashed, what was that to him?
    The guide led them on up the ramp and into the stadium. The vast bowl of the auditorium was impressive, and would be even more so when filled with people roaring their support for the competitors. He’d love to see it for himself but he would be back home by then. Maybe he should think about extending his trip?
    A plane rumbled overhead. Yves looked up to trace the vapour trail and catch the glint of sunlight bouncing from the fuselage.
    And then couldn’t move.
    Time stopped—vapour drifting. This