Adelaide was out of the carpark, at the very end of North Terrace, over every intersection on West Terrace, past Officeworks and that building with the sign that reads the temperature (32 degrees – no wonder she was more than a little flustered and she had known not to wear these heavy jeans), past (always, always past and never, never in) the world’s largest furniture showroom and the Hungry Jack’s where her best friend had got her first job after school, and well into the Anzac Highway palm trees before she cottoned on.
That was the boxing they were broadcasting on the radio.