CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Georgie was collating stats for her editor, adding to her research. Easier said than done with crime data frequently analysed annually or even decennially, and especially after sinking three—or was it four?—stubbies in two hours. On the plus side, the floaty feeling was a welcome respite. A few years back, she’d hit the booze too hard to enjoy the tipsy place she was in right now. Since then, she’d learned to be careful, to pace herself, and to tread the line between casual drinking and problem drinking.
Her counsellor, silent for nearly a year before this afternoon, sparked up for a second time inside her head.
Telling yourself that something is so, doesn’t make it so, Georgie. Be sure you control the urges, not the other way around.
‘I’m fine.’ She lifted her hand
