CHAPTER TEN
‘A Mit-su-bishi?’ Mick Sprague mocked a Japanese accent.
Scott Hart blushed, glanced around the pub and elbowed his mate, whose pot sloshed. ‘Slam!’
‘Watch it, Harty!’ Slam licked his beer coated fingers and chuckled. ‘But a Lancer? Are you serious?’
Franklin shrugged. ‘Maybe, we haven’t test-driven it yet. Everything high-powered’s off the list; no way I’m giving my daughter the keys to a lethal weapon. This is four-cylinder and four-door, so there’s less chance of her getting stuck if she’s in an impact. Airbags are okay considering it’s not brand new and –’
‘Yeah, but what colour is it?’ Slam asked, affecting a girlie voice.
‘Obligatory red.’
They laughed.
‘Kat’s happy with the spoiler, scoop, alloys and sunroof.’
‘But can it take her iPod?’ Harty cut in. ‘That’d be
