“‘Brrr,’ I said after a while, reaching for my jacket. ‘I can’t work out whether I’m hot or cold.’ It was one of those days when you don’t realise there’s a breeze – until the sun goes behind a cloud. ‘Cold!’ cried Dunc automatically. ‘How can you be cold?’ I wouldn’t mind a couple of bucks for every time we’ve had this conversation. He as usual was in just his T-shirt – he only adds another layer if it’s about to snow. I made a face at him as I stuck my arms in the sleeves and pulled it... on. ‘Well,’ he said, swallowing a mouthful, ‘are you coming tonight?’ He was talking about a gathering at the pub to farewell one of his friends who was going overseas. ‘Um,’ I said, ‘what time will it finish?’ Dunc shrugged. ‘How would I know? Till the last ones go, I guess, or the pub shuts.’ He looked at me. ‘Why?’ ‘We-ell . . .’ I took a deep breath and started plucking at the grass.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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