SORTING THINGS OUT
‘Smell,’ she says, staring down at the address.
‘Snell.’
She takes another look. ‘Says Smell.’
‘D and B?’
‘B and D.’
‘Same thing. Box 4.’
She tosses the letter in the pigeonhole.
‘I don’t remember the Snells?’ she says.
‘They’re new. Moved from Orange about six months back.’
She picks up the next letter. Box 208. And three for a Mr Pickering on the Snake Road mail run. Then five more, correctly addressed; they can go straight in their pigeonholes. She does it with a deft flick.
A handful that she knows are destined for the counter but hasn’t a clue where.
Does Mr Brown go in B, or in M with Mr Mead? Brown and Mead. She remembers they’re together at the same address, which is something. She doesn’t like to have to ask. She could look up the names in the list K
