Six point four cents, and why the price moved

On 11 September 2023, Atturra Limited, an ASX-listed technology consolidator, announced a scheme of arrangement to buy Cirrus Networks Holdings — in its own words "a leading managed services and IT solutions provider" — at 5.3 cents a share, valuing the equity at roughly $49.3 million and the enterprise at 8.8 times adjusted operating earnings before synergies, 7.0 times after them (Atturra ASX announcement, 11 September 2023). Within a week the consideration had been raised. By the time the scheme booklet was registered with the corporate regulator in mid-October, the paper on the table was worth up to 6.37 cents a share — equity of $58.6 million, an implied enterprise value of $44.7 million, and 11.1 times the same year's adjusted earnings (Cirrus scheme booklet, October 2023). Nothing about the company had changed in those five weeks. What moved was the buyer's assessment of what a book of contracted, recurring technology services was worth to a platform that already owned several of them.

The independent expert's report inside that booklet is the closest thing Australia has to a published price list for managed-service providers. Lonergan Edwards tabulated two decades of local IT-services transactions and found an average and median of 8.2 times operating earnings. Beneath the average sits a ladder. Small bolt-ons bought quietly by a single acquirer — Atturra's own purchases between 2022 and 2023 — went for 4.1 to 7.5 times forecast earnings, median 5.5. Deals of $20 to $50 million where the buyer could squeeze out overlap costs carried a median of 8.6 times against 5.8 for those where it could not. And when two bidders showed up, as they did for MOQ Limited in 2022, the number printed at 9.2 times historical earnings. The expert's summary of why is almost mechanical: a control premium of 30 to 35 per cent over the undisturbed price, which is 20 to 25 per cent at the enterprise-value level, paid for the right to own the direct debits.

The top of the ladder is visible from Brisbane. Over the Wire Holdings, a telecommunications-and-IT group headquartered there, spent a decade buying local operators — Comlinx at 6.4 times, Digital Sense at 6.1 times, both entries in the same expert's table — and stitching their customers onto its own network. In late 2021 Aussie Broadband bid $344 million for the equity, an enterprise value of $390.4 million once $46.4 million of net debt is counted (iTnews, November 2021). Over the Wire's final standalone year showed revenue just above $112 million, operating earnings of $23.5 million, and — the number the company put first in its own results release — recurring revenue at 92 per cent of the total (Over the Wire FY21 results). The implied exit: roughly 16.6 times trailing operating earnings, or about 3.8 times the recurring revenue line alone. The companies at the bottom of the ladder sold labour with some contracts attached; the company at the top sold contracts with some labour attached. The spread between 5.5 times and 16.6 times is, in effect, the market's published price for stickiness.

There is one more feature of the deal record that matters for what follows: the shelf of listed targets is nearly bare. The independent expert noted drily that "there are only a limited number of relevant Australian IT services companies currently listed on the ASX", precisely because the acquisitions of the preceding decade had consumed them — Empired to Capgemini at 9.6 times, DWS to HCL, RXP to Capgemini, Tesserent to Thales at 12.3 times, and then Cirrus itself. A consolidation machine that has eaten the public companies does not stop; it moves down into the private market, where the next thousand targets keep no investor-relations page and file no accounts. That is the demand side of the question this piece asks. The supply side sits in an industrial unit on Allgas Street.

Which brings us to the specimen. TechPath Pty Ltd of Slacks Creek, in Logan on Brisbane's southern edge, is exactly the kind of company this machine consumes: private, founder-run, its seats managed on published per-user prices, with connectivity and voice attached to the invoice and no listed price to argue with. It has never, on the visible record, been bought, sold or recapitalised. That makes it a clean thought experiment. Everything about the multiple is public; everything about the earnings is not. Pricing TechPath means assembling the earnings from tariffs and registries — and being honest about which parts are evidence and which are inference.

One company, two names, three registries

Start with what the registries actually say, because the identity is more layered than the storefront suggests. The Australian Business Register records TECHPATH PTY LTD, ABN 71 094 300 268, an Australian private company active and GST-registered since 1 January 2001, located in postcode 4127 — Slacks Creek (ABR record). The same record preserves the company's historical trading names: "Betta Computer Services Pty Ltd" and "Betta Computer Services", both from January 2001. A credit-bureau profile for the same ABN still carries the former company name in its address bar (CreditorWatch profile), and notes first registration with the corporate regulator in 2000. The full company extract that would date the name change precisely sits behind ASIC's paywall; we did not purchase it, and nothing material appears to hang on the exact date, because the change is legible elsewhere.

Elsewhere is the Wayback Machine. In 2004, bettacomputers.com.au was a modest site announcing "a business which provides IT solutions for small to large businesses in the South East Queensland region" (archived homepage, February 2004). By January 2013 the same domain was selling fixed-fee support under the name "Betta Care", along with DSL services, co-location, hosted Exchange and virtual server hosting (archived homepage, January 2013) — already, note, an internet reseller and host, not merely a repair shop. In July 2014 the first capture of techpath.com.au appears, with the support brand renamed "TechCare" and a menu that includes Business Internet, private networks and a hosted phone system (archived homepage, July 2014). The rebrand from Betta to TechPath, then, lands in 2013-14, and the company's own claims bracket the founding: the current site header says "Over 30 Years in Business", the about page says "over 25 years", the managing director's profile says he started in 1996, and a local paper reports the business was "born in a local garage" (MyCity Logan, September 2025). A buyer would shrug at the marketing arithmetic and date the institution from the 2000 incorporation.

The second entity is the interesting one. The registrant of techpath.com.au is not TechPath Pty Ltd but TPVA HOLDINGS PTY LTD, ABN 72 158 228 356, a private company active since 8 May 2012 at the same Slacks Creek postcode (ABR record). TPVA holds the registered business name "TechPath" (since June 2016) — and, since March 2026, a second business name: "Adams Racing". The company's leadership page lists Troy Adams as managing director, with the company since 1996, hobbies "car racing"; Chris Adams, chief operations officer, since 1999, hobbies "drag racing" (about page). The registry, in its dry way, is telling us this is an Adams family business with a holding company above the trading company, the brand and domain parked in the holdco, and enough surplus to incorporate a motorsport name this year. For a buyer, that structure cuts both ways: it is exactly what a well-advised founder builds before a sale — clean separation of brand assets from operating liabilities — and it is also the structure of an owner who has organised his affairs and feels no urgency to sell anything.

What the record does not show matters as much. There is no trace of external capital: no announced investment, no private-equity registry footprint, no second address. And because TechPath Pty Ltd is, on all visible evidence, a small proprietary company under the Corporations Act — below at least two of the three thresholds of $50 million revenue, $25 million assets and 100 employees that trigger mandatory financial reporting — it files no financial statements with the regulator at all. What the registries do confirm is continuity: the ABN and its GST registration have run unbroken since the first day of 2001 — a quarter-century of continuous registration implying a business that has never paused, restructured through insolvency, or traded under administration. The revenue, the margin and the earnings of that thirty-year institution are nonetheless simply absent from the public record — which is precisely why the rest of this piece has to build them from prices.

The tariff card, read like a filing

TechPath publishes more pricing than almost any of its Brisbane peers, and the pricing page is the closest thing to a revenue disclosure the company will ever volunteer. A managed-services agreement "ranges between $99 - $199 per user, per month", the company says, beneath a headline rate of "from $80" (managed IT page). More usefully, the cost page prints what it calls real-world client examples: a 22-user construction firm at $139 per user, a 30-user manufacturer at $110, a 52-user accounting practice at $140, a 158-user mining-services company at $92, and a 79-user engineering firm at $175 (published price examples). Run the multiplication and those five relationships alone are worth about $42,000 a month — $504,000 a year from 341 seats, a blended $123 per user per month. A sixth example, a 99-user health and community organisation, is listed at "mixed pricing". Alongside the per-seat model sits a per-device one: managed infrastructure from $10 a month for a switch to $299 for a major server.

The attach lines are priced too. Business internet is sold in five named plans, from a $99-a-month business-grade 50/20 megabit service and a $131 100/40 service up to $499 for symmetric 100 megabit fibre, $599 for 200, and $799 a month for gigabit fibre (business internet page). A cloud phone system starts at $15 per extension per month plus call charges (Cloud PBX page). Support is bounded by published targets — fifteen minutes' response for a critical outage, an hour for high-priority faults (response-times page) — and the whole proposition is aimed, in the company's own words, at organisations of 15 to 150 users, with a stated ambition to be their entire IT department.

Two features of this card would draw an acquirer's pencil. The first is that the per-user pricing is dense in exactly the band where Australian managed-services economics work best: professional and industrial firms of 20 to 160 seats, too big for an office manager with a password list, too small for an internal IT team. The mining-services example — 158 users at $92 across multiple sites — shows the company can hold larger accounts by discounting per seat, the standard volume curve. The second is the phrase that appears twice on the pricing pages: "no lock in contracts", backed by a satisfaction guarantee. That is a genuine oddity for the thesis this piece is testing. Roll-up buyers pay for contracted revenue; TechPath advertises the absence of contractual lock-in as a selling point. Its stickiness, in other words, is behavioural rather than contractual — clients stay because leaving is painful and the service is good, not because a term agreement obliges them. Testimonials on the company's own pages claim relationships of ten and fifteen years, one client having grown from "two computers and a printer" to 75 national users under TechPath's management. Behavioural stickiness is real economic stickiness — but on a deal desk it prices lower than paper, because it walks out the door with the founder if the integration is botched. This is the single largest discount factor the visible record imposes on TechPath's hypothetical multiple.

The network under the services

The directory that files TechPath under regional internet providers is not wrong, and this is where the company gets more interesting than the average break-fix shop that grew up. TechPath describes itself as "an internet service provider with access to the lines of all major internet carriers", delivering plans "over TechPath's high performance network". Marketing phrases of that kind are usually decorative. Here the registries back them. The Asia-Pacific numbering registry records an autonomous system, AS58868, named for TechPath Pty Ltd at the Slacks Creek address, and global routing archives show it announcing address space continuously since 4 March 2013 (routing history for AS58868) — thirteen years of uninterrupted presence in the global routing table, currently seven blocks of 256 addresses each, plus an IPv6 allocation dated 8 March 2013 whose registration still carries the company's old Hillcrest address from the Betta era. Even the registry maintainer handles are archaeological: the incident-response object on the older address blocks is labelled with the initials BCS — Betta Computer Services — fossilised in APNIC's database a decade after the brand died.

The routing history also records ambition and retreat in miniature. Blocks have come and gone over the years — an additional range announced from 2015 was withdrawn only in April 2026, and a briefly held four-block allocation appeared and vanished within months in 2020 — the ordinary breathing of a small operator right-sizing its address holdings as customers arrive, leave, and renumber into the cloud. What has never wavered is the announcement itself: thirteen years without the network going dark is an operational-continuity signal that no marketing page can fake, because it is written by third-party route collectors rather than by the company.

Who carries the traffic matters commercially. The current neighbour data for AS58868 shows transit from Superloop, Aussie Broadband and Brisbane fibre operator Vetta Group, peering with Hurricane Electric, and — notably — one downstream network of its own, a small Queensland company called Monocera routing through TechPath (neighbour records). A provider with a downstream is, in registry terms, a wholesaler, however small. The company also appears as a data-centre ecosystem partner of NEXTDC, the ASX-listed operator whose Brisbane facilities are the natural home for a local provider's racks (NEXTDC partner listing). A second autonomous system registered to TechPath sits dormant, unannounced; a routing-database entry created for it in January 2026 under the joint name of TechPath and "Universal Data Pty Ltd" points at a further wrinkle — Universal Data's own website no longer resolves, no active business registration matches that exact name, and yet its maintainer credentials still administer TechPath's registry objects, with the abuse contact revalidated as recently as April 2026. The most plausible reading is an absorbed or affiliated network operation whose corporate shell has gone quiet while its registry plumbing lives on; the record does not say, and a buyer's diligence would want it said.

The economics of this layer are modest but real, and they are the sticky part. On the reseller arithmetic, the wholesale floor is public: from 1 July 2025 the national broadband network's flat wholesale price for a 100/40 megabit service is $61.53 a month, and the effective average for 50/20 is $55.19 (NBN Co wholesale price statement). TechPath retails those services at $131 and $99. The gross spread — $69 and $44 respectively, before aggregation, backhaul and support costs that an operator of TechPath's size pays to wholesalers rather than to the network directly — is not where the money is, and this piece is not about access margins. The point for a valuation is different: an MSP that controls the customer's internet service, addresses, firewall and phone system has multiplied the switching cost. Moving away from a provider like this means re-papering the network identity of the business, not just changing a support number. Over the Wire built a $390 million exit on exactly that bundling logic. TechPath is running the same play at one-thirtieth the scale, with the awkward footnote that one of its own transit suppliers — Aussie Broadband — is the company that bought Over the Wire and now competes for the same Brisbane business customers it helps TechPath serve.

The customer's side of that bargain is on the record too, in the testimonial TechPath chose to publish on its internet page: a national sales manager describing offices left offline for days while the national network's retail chain argued about fault ownership, then "not a single outage" affecting operations after moving the connection under the same roof as the IT support. Whether or not the anecdote generalises, it describes the exact mechanism a valuer cares about. Every service added to the invoice converts an annoyance into a dependency: a client that buys support alone can leave in a weekend; a client whose internet, phone numbers, firewall rules and Microsoft tenancy all live with one provider faces a migration project with real cost and real risk, and postpones it year after year. Churn compounding is brutal arithmetic in reverse — the difference between losing one client in fifty each year and one in twenty-five is, over a decade, close to the difference between a book that has doubled and one that has merely survived. That, and not the $69 gross spread on a fibre plan, is why connectivity attach is the stickiest line on the invoice and why acquirers keep paying up for books that have it.

Assembling the earnings nobody filed

Now the arithmetic, with the evidentiary status of every input stated plainly. Three inputs are documentary. First, the tariff card: a blended $123 per user per month across the five costed examples the company itself publishes, within a stated band of $99 to $199. Second, the attach prices: $99 to $799 a month per internet service and $15 per extension for voice. Third, headcount: the local paper covering the 2025 Logan business awards reports "more than 50 staff" (MyCity Logan), consistent with the 11-to-50 band on the company's LinkedIn listing (company page) having been recently outgrown, and with seventeen named staff on the leadership page alone.

Everything after this paragraph is inference, and should be read as such. Managed-service providers in this segment typically field somewhere between 60 and 120 supported seats per delivery employee, depending on how much of the environment is cloud-standardised; TechPath's own marketing emphasises a standardised Microsoft 365 security baseline across all managed clients, which sits at the efficient end of that range. If roughly two-thirds of 50-plus staff are in service delivery, the supported base plausibly falls between 2,000 and 3,500 seats. At the blended published rate of $123 a seat, that is $3.0 to $5.2 million a year in managed-services fees alone. On top of that stack the pass-through and attach lines that dominate MSP invoices — software licensing resold monthly (a Microsoft partner since 2008, by the company's own account, now reselling per-user subscriptions on nearly every seat it manages), hardware projects, internet services, voice, and hosting. In Australian providers of this shape, those lines together commonly at least match the support fee line. A defensible total revenue estimate is therefore in the $8 to $14 million range — an inference band, not a number, and the reader should weight it accordingly. Margin is the softest layer of all: privately held MSPs of this size typically land between 10 and 20 per cent at the operating-earnings line once market-rate owner salaries are charged. Call it $1 to $2.5 million of earnings before interest, tax and depreciation, with honest error bars in both directions.

The cost side of the ledger deserves its own honesty. A managed-services P&L of this shape has three big lines, and none of TechPath's are public. Labour is the largest: engineering salaries in the Brisbane market, on-costs, and — the number that separates good MSPs from failing ones — utilisation, the share of paid hours that land against a client agreement rather than against the bench. The only public trace of TechPath's wage posture is indirect: employee reviewers score compensation lowest among an otherwise glowing set of sub-ratings, the classic signature of a firm that competes on culture rather than top-of-market pay, which for a buyer is a margin comfort and a retention question at the same time. The second line is tooling rent: the remote-monitoring, ticketing and professional-services platforms that every modern MSP leases per technician per month — TechPath's customer portal runs on a hosted domain belonging to one of the mainstream commercial platforms of that kind, visible in its own site navigation, so the stack is standard rather than home-grown, which cuts integration risk and adds a few points of fixed cost. The third is vendor margin: the spread between what Microsoft, the hardware distributors and the wholesale carriers charge and what the tariff card collects. All three lines here are described, not measured; the measurements exist only inside the company's accounting system, and nothing in this piece should be mistaken for them.

The multiple, by contrast, is the hard part of the equation — the part the scheme documents publish. Apply Atturra's uncontested bolt-on median of 5.5 times and TechPath's hypothetical enterprise value is $5.5 to $14 million. Apply the 7.5 times Atturra paid for The Somerville Group — a founder-led Sydney provider of comparable vintage and shape, bought in 2023 for $19.1 million including earn-out — and the range moves to $7.5 to $19 million. Apply the 8.6 times median that the independent expert observed where buyers had real synergies, or the 9.2 times that contested bidding produced for MOQ, and the top of the range approaches $22 million — but only in a genuine process with more than one bidder at the table, which private sellers of this size rarely run. The inversion is worth savouring: for listed targets, the earnings are known and the multiple is argued over; for TechPath, the multiple is effectively published and the earnings are the mystery. A single page of management accounts would collapse the valuation uncertainty by a factor of five.

How such a deal would actually be papered is also visible in the comparables. Somerville is the closest published analogue to a TechPath transaction — a thirty-year-old, founder-led provider selling "cloud, connectivity, modern workplace, security" and lifecycle management, per the deal-day description (announcement summary, March 2023) — and its structure is instructive: deal trackers summarising the exchange filing put it at $15 million of cash up front, a modest parcel of the acquirer's shares, and up to $2.6 million more contingent on performance hurdles across two financial years (MarketScreener deal record); the independent expert's $19.1 million enterprise value for the deal assumes that earn-out pays in full. Roughly one dollar in seven, in other words, was held back against the risk that the thing being bought — relationships, not machinery — might not survive the change of hands. For a business whose stickiness is behavioural and whose two most senior operators share a surname, a buyer would push that contingent share higher, and the sellers' willingness to accept it would itself be diligence information. The likely buyers are equally identifiable: the two or three listed consolidators still executing bolt-on programmes, the large privately held platforms that outbid them when a book is clean, and the private-equity-backed roll-ups that have spent the decade assembling exactly this kind of firm across the eastern seaboard. None of them would blink at the size; all of them would open with the same question about recurring mix.

What would push TechPath up its own ladder is equally legible in the comparables. Over the Wire's 92 per cent recurring share and network ownership earned it a revenue multiple; Somerville's 7.5 was paid for a book, not a brand. If TechPath's connectivity, voice and licensing attach take its genuinely recurring share above the ordinary MSP's, each point of that mix shifts the fair multiple up the 5.5-to-8.6 band. Against that, three discounts apply: the no-lock-in contract posture (behavioural stickiness prices below contractual), the family concentration (two Adamses hold the two top operating roles), and single-site geography. On the visible record, a reasonable deals-desk verdict is that TechPath in a negotiated trade sale would clear Somerville's multiple only if its recurring mix is provably better — and that the honest headline is: high single-digit millions to just under twenty, with the answer living in a data room nobody outside Slacks Creek has seen.

What the unofficial record whispers

Around the edges of the registry evidence sits the softer signal layer, and it mostly points one way. Glassdoor carries eight employee reviews averaging 4.5 out of 5 with every reviewer recommending the firm; the lowest sub-score, characteristically for the industry, is compensation at 4.2 (Glassdoor reviews). The company's hiring portal showed a single vacancy posted in May 2026 and none open at the start of July (hiring page) — which reads either as a full bench or as deliberate pause; a run of three or four simultaneous engineering openings in the next two quarters would be the cleanest public sign of a growth push, and their absence a sign of steady-state management. The awards record is genuinely dense for a company this size: employer-of-choice recognition in an independent workplace study three years running by the company's account, and, in September 2025, both the large business of the year and the business-to-business award at the Logan chamber's annual event, per the local press report already cited. Municipal awards are not financial disclosures, but they are third parties choosing to attach their names, and for a services business whose product is trust, that has some evidentiary weight.

The company's own numerical claims — a net promoter score of 84.3 and a 4.9-star Google rating on the about page — are self-reported and should be treated as such, though the star rating is at least externally checkable in outline and no counter-signal of any size surfaces in searches: no visible complaint threads, no outage chatter, no disgruntled-customer forum trail of the kind that reliably accumulates around bad regional providers. Silence is weak evidence, but it is the right-shaped silence. Two small hygiene wrinkles do show. The site still displays Microsoft "Gold" competency badges from a partner program Microsoft retired years ago — common across the industry, but a stale badge is a stale badge, and a diligence pass would ask for the current Solutions Partner designations under the successor program. And the tenure claims drift with the marketing surface: thirty-plus years in the header, twenty-five-plus in the body text, 1996 on the founder's profile, 2000-01 in the registries. None of this is disqualifying; all of it is the sort of thing a buyer's first-round question list exists to tidy up.

The diligence questions that decide the price

If the book came to market, five questions would separate the top of the range from the bottom, and the public record already shapes each one. First, revenue mix: how many dollars are monthly-recurring service fees and resold subscriptions versus project and hardware revenue? The tariff card proves the recurring machinery exists; only the ledger proves its weight. Second, concentration: the published client examples run from 22 to 158 users, and the largest single account visible in testimonials is 75 seats — if the mining-services relationship at 158 seats is also the largest revenue line, its terms and tenure become a material fraction of the price. Third, the key-person question: the managing director has been in the chair since 1996 and his chief operations officer since 1999; the middle layer visible on the team page — a chief technology officer since 2007, a pre-sales lead since 2004, service managers of a decade's standing — is exactly the succession cushion buyers pay extra for, but earn-outs exist because founders' relationships are the asset being financed. Fourth, the supplier stack: Microsoft's program terms govern the margin on every resold seat; the wholesale carriers behind the internet line — including one, Aussie Broadband, that is simultaneously a supplier and, since swallowing Over the Wire, a competitor for the same customers — control the connectivity spread; and the dormant second autonomous system and the ghost of Universal Data need an explanation in writing. Fifth, the liability surface: an MSP with administrative access to a hundred businesses is a concentrated cyber target, and the company's marketing of a standardised security baseline and audit services is both a genuine differentiator and a representation a buyer would test line by line.

Competition frames all five. Brisbane's managed-services market is crowded from below by owner-operator shops under fifteen staff and from above by the consolidators themselves — Atturra bought its way into managed services precisely to sell national scale against local incumbents, and Brennan, the buyer of MOQ, runs the same argument. TechPath's counter-position, on its own pages, is deliberate localism: a Brisbane-based helpdesk, response targets in minutes, and awards from its own city. That is a real moat against national pricing but a narrow one, and it is the reason the geography discount exists in the first place. The regulatory surface, by contrast, is thin: reselling carriage in Australia requires industry-scheme membership rather than a licence of the kind that constrains network owners, and no adverse regulatory trace of any kind appears against the company's names in public searches. The macro risk is the ordinary one for the sector — that the consolidation cycle itself cools. The expert's table shows multiples rising through two decades; the same table would print lower if rates and private-equity appetite turned, and a private seller without a process is always the first to feel it.

What would change this judgement

The judgement, then: TechPath reads as a genuinely good specimen of the asset class — a thirty-year institution with published prices, observed network substance dating to 2013, a family holding structure arranged the way sellers arrange them, and a stickiness that is real but living in behaviour rather than in contracts — and its hypothetical price sits in the high single-digit millions, stretching toward twenty only with proof of recurring mix or a second bidder. Several specific facts would move that reading, and each has a public tell. Audited or even management accounts surfacing in any form — a credit filing, a court document, a tender disclosure — would replace the widest inference band in this piece with arithmetic. A change at the holding layer would be visible within days in the business-names register that already told us about Adams Racing; TPVA registering, transferring or lapsing the TechPath name would be the loudest quiet signal available. The dormant autonomous system beginning to announce address space would suggest network expansion or integration with another operator; the older system going quiet after thirteen unbroken years would suggest the opposite. A burst of simultaneous job postings would mark a growth investment; a sustained hiring freeze alongside founder-age arithmetic would mark the window in which trade buyers start writing letters. A disclosed transaction for any Brisbane MSP of 40 to 80 staff would re-anchor the whole multiple discussion with a fresher print than Somerville's 7.5 or Cirrus's 11.1. Two supplier-side moves would also reprice the book from outside: a material change in national wholesale broadband pricing — the July 2025 tariff round moved the key input by little more than a dollar, but the roadmap is republished annually — would widen or crush the connectivity spread that makes the attach line worth carrying; and any restructuring of Microsoft's partner economics, which govern the resale margin on nearly every seat TechPath manages, would flow straight through a P&L that nobody outside the company can currently see. And any erosion of the review-and-award lattice — a slipping star rating, a missing year in the workplace studies, complaint threads where today there is silence — would attack the behavioural stickiness that is, on this record, the most valuable and least contractual thing the Adams family owns.

Evidence register