CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After the cop clocked them, they couldn’t risk staying behind the church. So they’d shifted again, this time to an empty shed at the old railway station. There was a public toilet twenty metres away and running water. Only cold water, though. The shed was watertight and clean, and they were further from the cop shop, so it might be good to stay here a while.
They were both sick of moving.
Living as he and the kid did, they had no concept of time – other than they had too much of it to kill, dwelling on bad things. Weekday, weekend, it was all meaningless in their world. But when he heard a car horn, voices and clangs, he suddenly realised it must be Sunday. Market day.
He said to the kid, ‘Hurry up, bud. We gotta get out of here.’
But his mate was crook again, so he
