11‘Not hungry, Doc?’
Vince sat back in his chair, cradling a glass of the very best Warrnambool tap water, lost in thought. His entrée sat untouched in front of him. The table he was sharing with Elena Genovisi was at the rear of Fannies restaurant, well away from the hoi polloi and inevitable ‘tableside’ consultations—‘Enjoying your tea, Dr Vince? Jackie’s still got that gastro, it’s fair squirtin’ out.’
He’d met the senior constable at the end of his first month in Warrnambool. They’d both been part of a workshop—‘Boyz Stuff’—for Year Ten lads from the local high school. Vince’s topic had been the usual medical combo of STIs, contraception and s****l health—and Elena’s session had been about the importance of keeping on the right side of the law. They’d chatted over tea and bikkies aft
