Del unloaded the box of streamers from her car and carried it into the Berrimilla Hall.
Darby sang out from the hall’s kitchen. ‘Give those to Ken, will you? And ask Nick to load the champers into these ice boxes.’ She beamed at Del from the doorway. ‘Can you believe he’s donated two cases of French champagne for tonight?’
‘What can I say,’ laughed Del. ‘He’s a generous guy.’
It had been two weeks since she and Nick had returned from Sydney. Tonight’s party would celebrate the victory of the Progress Association’s mission to stop the mine. For such an emotional and hard-fought campaign, success had been ridiculously simple.
Bobby had swiftly stepped up to his rightful role as head of Westcorp, and then just as swiftly stepped back down again. He’d called an emergency board meeting, giv
