Ben felt sorry for Grandma Leonie. Everyone except his dad seemed to really hate her. During their trip Up North, Dad had confided, ‘Your Grandpa Noel deserved some fun in his autumn years, and in my mind there was nothing wrong with the old boy having some on his way out. Don’t tell your mother I told you that. But he never got much fun. Leonie once told me that if she put a jelly bean in a jar for each time they made love before their marriage, and took one out for every time after, she would still have got indigestion on beans.’ It took Ben a while to figure out what Dad meant. ‘But she gave him better than fun,’ Gordon went on. ‘And better than nursing. She gave him sound financial advice.’

As he walked up the hill, Ben was in a good mood, as his team had won their semi-final, qualifying for the final against Cobcroft Boys’ High. Ben had been twelfth man. Luckily, the match had finished before an unseasonal sou’-easter swept in torrents of rain. It had turned into one of those afternoons when Ben’s dad snuck out for a surf thinking nobody knew. Dad would be pissed off he had to do his duty to the grandmothers instead. Ben sped up to a jog to reach the Hilton before he got drenched.

In the public bar, early starters clustered around the prime stand-up table beneath the television screen to watch a two-year-old repeat of a pro surfing event in Portugal. As none of them remembered who had won, they placed bets, kidding each other about inside information. Ben exchanged nods with Snake and Tonsure Man.

The stairs smelt of sawdust. The renovation zone seemed empty. He wandered through the stripped, bare-board rooms and entered the prize corner suite. The windows were rattling, but the gun-barrel vista of Bluebird Beach and the sea was going to make Grandma Leonie’s renovation a winner.

‘Not bad, eh?’

Ben swung around. ‘Wait, what?’

There were no shadows in this bright half-painted room, but a man who seemed able to make darkness around him hobbled out from a previously unseen corner, sweeping a flop of grey-bloomed chocolate-coloured hair out of his eyes. He was dressed in shapeless trousers and an XXXL jumper.

‘You don’t remember me?’

The hand he offered Ben seemed boneless. He wrung it in pain.

‘Two broken metacarpals. But you should see the other guy.’

Ben didn’t know what to say. This strange man’s glassy eyes focused over Ben’s shoulder.

‘Hey, Gordo.’

‘You’ve always been big on the surprise entrances.’ Ben’s dad entered the room behind him.

‘My presence was requested by your stepmother-in-law,’ the strange man said. ‘The puppeteer snaps her fingers, we come running.’

‘Want to go downstairs?’ Ben’s dad asked, looking rattled. ‘I’ll buy you a drink.’