CHAPTER TWELVE
Georgie nosed the Spider into a parking space. There were plenty of them. Bullock was even quieter than the previous week. Not one person walked the footpath. She counted five cars on the main drag. Eyes squinting into the sun, she spied a few more near the pub at the other end of the street.
It couldn’t be a sharper contrast to her home base in Richmond. There, even arterials were narrow and congested, while there were many one-way and no-through roads that barely accommodated a family sedan, and all were permit parking for residents only or steeply metered. Her world comprised everything from glam to grunge. Nightclubs, brothels, factory outlets, juxtaposed with shiny showrooms and offices. Concrete high-rise housing commission flats, posh townhouses and long narrow cott
