“After buying a pair of office chairs and collecting her purchases from the lighting shop, Emily had asked him if there was anything else he wanted to do. But he was as keen as her to head home. ‘So, Tom seems nice,’ she said, looking across at Jake, as the built-up area came to an end and the grey bitumen stretched ahead through red dirt dotted with low-growing grey-green saltbush and sparsely occurring taller native trees and shrubs. Emily had never liked this drive; she always found it desola...te and quite depressing. ‘Yeah. And I found out some very interesting information that will help us with our project,’ he said conspiratorially. ‘Oh, like what?’ ‘Like, that the Wattle Creek Council use either the building inspector from Port Lincoln or the one in Whyalla – taking turns.’ ‘And, don’t tell me, Tom is the building inspector at Whyalla?’ ‘Yep,’ Jake said, nodding. ‘Wouldn’t that be illegal, or at least a conflict of interest?’ she said. ‘Not really.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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