‘You know she’s been rooting one of the assistant pros? How tacky’s that.’

Dog’s outrage seemed, outrageously, genuine, bereft of any memory of his part in Kelly’s fall from respectability.

‘Sal took a piece out of her,’ Dog said. ‘I mean, Kel’s a free woman, but you’ve got to draw a line. There was a bit of how’s-your-father, and who should get involved but your old lady. Norma stood up and gave Sally a big poke in the chest and said if she knew how to satisfy her husband none of this would have started! Mate, you’d have been proud of the old bird. Who’d have thought she’d be sticking up for Kel?’ Dog paused, only now thinking through the tactlessness of what he was saying. ‘Naturally, I made myself scarce.’

‘That’s what you wanted to ask me?’

‘Nah, champ, just thought you’d like to know.’

‘What did you want to say?’

‘Well—’ Dog took a drag on his joint like it was a theatrical punctuation mark—‘I was down at the local court the other day and who should I run into but old bugalugs.’

‘Bugalugs.’

‘His nibs here.’ Dog tossed his chin to the side.

‘Sorry, I’m not that quick.’

‘I was down there for a mention for a client who’s been caught up in this banking inquiry.’ A well-publicised royal commission into the banking industry had, unlike other royal commissions, resulted in actual criminal proceedings, albeit against junior rogue traders, cowboy loan officers and mortgage brokers whom the banks cut loose with no-one to represent them but bottom-feeders like Dog.

‘Turns out, one of my client’s close friends is old mate here.’

‘If you don’t tell me who you’re talking about, I’m going inside. I’m meant to be keeping an eye on Carl.’ And Ron, he thought. And Ben. And, as he heard Jude Oxenford’s laughter from the kitchen, Lou.

‘Champion, you’ve got your hands full with that one,’ Dog said. ‘I thought you had a complicated home life before.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Carl’s out of his gourd. Are you sure he’s not on the juice? I don’t think it’s going to last, mate.’

‘I don’t think I will either.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to get to if you’ll stop interrupting me.’ Dog interrupted himself with a succession of deep drags. He was about to flick his roach away when Gordon stopped his hand.

‘Just make a bit of an effort,’ Gordon said.

‘Sure, sure.’ Dog put the roach into the pocket of his board shorts. ‘But anyway.’

‘Bugalugs.’

‘Him!’ Dog rammed a thumb at the side of the house. ‘Do I have to make it any clearer?’

Gordon followed the direction of Dog’s thumb, which seemed to be aimed at the bushes.

‘That fucking weasel who took us to court!’ Dog’s voice broke.