’ Nash’s interest shifted to the vehicle itself, a 1939 American Chevrolet half-ton pickup painted the colour of his mother’s favourite lipstic... — blood red (actually the vehicle colour was Torch Red). He switched back from drooling to update on whether the well-dressed blonde was winning the battle. But oh no, there she was, standing aside, hand on hip and rhythmically banging her handbag against her other leg, red-faced in anger waiting for the tow-away to occur. This called for intervention. A stream of youngsters, some steered by elder siblings who were likewise too young to participate, were soon trooping off to the restaurant's dining room.Razor took Harry aside, muttering, "Aren't you glad Cyn isn't here?" Mixed feelings. On the one hand, yes. To me, she's still the snot-nosed little brat I helped raise after our parents died. On the other hand, she's eligible for extraction." No, she's not," Razor protested. "Reg Force can't go!" She's. Not. Reg. Force." Harry glared at his. More

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