I entered the lounge bar of The Regency and spotted Frida sitting at a corner table. She was hunched over a magazine with an empty champagne glass in front of her. Her neck was bare, her hair pulled up under a cap.
She looked up. There was relief in her eyes as she watched me approach. I remembered that some of the Board members often came to this bar to continue the post-meeting drinking. I didn't want any rumours going around about me being seen with a young woman.
‘Come on,’ I said, 'there's another pub further down the street I'd rather go to.’
She followed me outside and walked beside me down the street along the Yarra River. When I first moved to Melbourne, I thought the Yarra River was just brown. But now that I had an office that overlooked it, I realised there were many shades
