“She’d be having a talk with him when they got home! ‘Turn left in eight hundred metres,’ said the deep Australian drawl of the GPS. ‘Ken,’ she said, ‘you are, as ever, my hero.’ ‘Who on earth is Ken?’ Bradley asked, uttering his first words in nearly two hours. His mind was undoubtedly focussed on the embarrassment of gorgeous scenery they’d passed from Launceston to the mountain. ‘Ken’s the GPS guy.’ ‘You’ve named him?’ he asked. ‘His mother named him. I just chose his voice when you were busy... pretending to check the car for prior damage while actually drooling over the chassis. I’m certain you would have preferred Swedish Una, or British Catherine, but it seemed only fair that, since you and my mother have railroaded me over and over again today, I got my way about one tiny part of my holiday.’ ‘Your way is Ken?’ ‘Don’t you use that tone when you talk about Ken. I’ll have you know I have him to thank for getting me out of many an oncoming tram disaster when I first moved to Melbourne.’ He glanced her way, giving her nothing more than a glimpse of her reflection in his sunglasses.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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