8Monday morning, Vince hit the ground running. ‘Just a quickie this morning, Deef,’ he said, staggering out the back door with the dog’s lead. ‘Places to go, mate. People to see.’ He and the eager Deefer did a fast walk down the street and onto the coastal track and checked out the surf.
They headed home and Vince swallowed a coffee and a muffin of indeterminate age, then jumped in the shower. Minutes later he was gunning Benny up to the hospital. After a rapid-fire ward round, quick hi to a toddler with gastro in the children’s ward—‘If he’s drinking and piddling by lunchtime, take out the drip’—and brief enquiries of a few postnatal patients on the mid-floor—‘Sprogs feeding and the mum’s not bleeding? Home tomorrow’—he appeared at the clinic early. For a change.
He strode in the back d
