OPAL BEACH
Declan pulled up outside the Commercial Hotel, sat there and looked around. Monks Real-Estate Agent was still there. The bakery. The local newspaper office. Two new cafés. The Rising Sun Hotel, which had been his local. Stomping in there after he finished work in his Yakka shorts and Blundstone work boots, bindi eyes stuck in thick socks after mowing the whole of the damn caravan park. The Commonwealth Bank stood on one corner, next to Hayden’s Garage. There was a twenty-four-hour BP Servo further along.
Declan drove out of town, crossed the old bridge, drove for another ten minutes out to the caravan park. It was winter so he was sure to get an onsite van. He got out of the car, pulling his brown cord jacket around him as a gust of wind hit him. A bell rang when he opened the
