It was an unsettling experience, shopping while being stalked by your would-be murderer. An experience made worse by Nick Pappas’s recommendation yesterday of a rather depressing-looking department store in the centre of the old town as the place where Julianne might get herself suitably attired for her second cameo as a junior with Downing, Street and Kemp.

This part of Darwin did not look as deeply changed by the enormous volumes of money that had flowed into the city over the last few years. Two new high-rise towers were emerging from holes in the ground that covered entire blocks, but most of the old streetscape remained unaffected. The city had been rebuilt in the late 1970s following Cyclone Tracy, and the aesthetically worthless architecture of that period was everywhere. It rather did Jules’s head in, seeing the many global-brand boutiques, all sparkling and shining like exquisite jewellery boxes, trading within the tatty shells of these buildings. While some outlets, one being the department store towards which she was walking now, were obvious diehards from an earlier era, the long unbroken stretches of high-street retail, expensive cafés, bistros and bars all evidenced a rapid shift away from a utilitarian CBD towards something more akin to a playground for super-rich outcasts. She didn’t recognise many of the fashion names and could only assume they were the local franchises of start-ups from Chinese city states.

It would be lovely, she thought, to have been the mistress of some obscenely wealthy mining magnate who was only around to bother you one week out of every two or three months. In which case, she’d probably have spent a few days swanning around this strange, isolated mini Monaco, melting her sugar daddy’s plastic with some gold-medal-standard shopping.

On the other hand, not getting sniped at from a rooftop or run over while crossing the street was a reality she could live with, too.