A painted 1946 Australian seaside street: a green and cream tram pulled up at a stop with passengers boarding and a queue of people in period dress waiting on the footpath, shop awnings, tram wires overhead and the beach and headland beyond

A crowded car pulling in at the beach end with the queue already forming and the conductor on the running board. In 1946 this is not nostalgia — it is simply how the whole suburb gets to work.

The patch

The line itself, and everything strung along it. In 1946 the Bondi trams are at their absolute peak — crowded, essential, permanent-seeming, the way the whole suburb gets to work and to the water — and Tess Treloar works them as a conductress, one of the women hired during the war and now quietly on a clock, because the men are coming back and the jobs were only ever lent.

From the running board she can see the entire district and most of what is wrong with it. The patch runs from the Waverley depot down Campbell Parade to the beach, with her mother's tea rooms as the unofficial office and a flat above a shop where a shoebox of letters keeps getting fuller.

The set

A painted 1940s Australian tea room interior: marble-topped tables with white cloths and bentwood chairs, a glass dome of scones, a tea urn on a timber counter, two women talking at a table and a woman in an apron behind the counter

Marble tables, starched cloths, scones under the dome and the urn going. Officially a tea room; in practice the place where the district tells on itself.

The cast

Told in one voice, Tess's. In brief:

A painted interior of a 1940s tram depot shed: three green and cream trams standing over inspection pits, steel roof trusses and clerestory windows throwing shafts of dusty light, a wheeled ladder and a timber noticeboard on a brick pillar

Three cars in over the pits, shafts of light through the clerestory, and a noticeboard by the door where the rosters go up. The depot is where the clock on her job is kept.

The rhythm

Eight non-murder "how-done-it" cases. Nobody dies; what happens instead is that somebody is cheated — a frame-up, stolen wages, a key-money racket, a pension that was never filed — and the mechanism is the puzzle. Tess has no shingle, charges nothing and does not consider herself a detective; the work keeps happening to her because she answers her mail.

Under it runs the retrenchment clock: the conductresses are being counted out, and she knows it from book one. Warm, funny, specific about money and paperwork, and unsentimental about who the era protects.

A painted night interior of a small rented room: a cardboard shoebox open on a table under a bare bulb spilling bundles of old envelopes tied with string, an iron bed, and a small dog curled in a basket by an open door

The shoebox on the table under a bare bulb, and the dog in his basket by the door. She never advertised for any of this. She just answered the wrong post.

The question the series asks

What do you owe someone whose trouble is nobody's job to fix?

Where to start

Each case is complete in itself, but the retrenchment clock runs across all eight and Tess's own position changes with it, so the order matters.

  1. The Crooked Waybill — start here. Damage and fare shortfalls pinned on her by a depot clerk who is not being malicious, just loyal to the wrong person. She clears herself, places a newspaper ad, and gets the wrong replies.
  2. The Gift Gone Sour
  3. The Landlord Who Wasn’t
  4. The Beach Gear Affair
  5. The Widow in the Drawer
  6. The Missing Fiancé
  7. The Man Her Son Sent
  8. The Last Run — the last one, and the title means what you think it means.