I took my briefcase with me, not sure if this was a professional or personal matter. It was a 30-minute drive from my office in Surry Hills to Bondi and I arrived there half an hour early. I had a coffee at one of the beachfront cafes then drove to the Ocean Waves Resort. It was a red brick three-storey building one block back from the beach, obviously well past its prime. Beach towels hung over peeling balcony railings. A battered campervan straddled the two guest carpark spaces.
I parked on the street and entered the foyer at two minutes to twelve. An odour of grease and wet towels hung in the air. The reception desk was unattended. A woman grasping the hand of a screaming toddler waited by the lift. The door slid open and Frankie bowled out. The woman hauled the child in and its scream
