‘You’re lucky you’ve still got each other,’ Frontal said. ‘I miss my old man every day. You realise when they’re gone, you only ever have one.’

‘I’m not going yet!’ Ron snapped. ‘Save your misty-eyed reminiscences for the funeral.’

‘Mrs Grimes is suffering to see you in here,’ Frontal said, all wide-eyed innocence.

‘You mean Eva Braun,’ Ron said.

Gordon thought: And that makes you … ?

‘It must break her heart not to be able to look after you,’ Frontal said.

‘Break her bank more like it,’ Ron said.

‘Okay, let’s go.’ Gordon bounced on the balls of his feet, desperate to be somewhere else. Where else, he could decide later.

‘Let me walk you out,’ Frontal said. ‘See you later, Mr Grimes.’

‘Look for me around town,’ Ron replied, raising his glass. ‘I’ll be the one with the ankle bracelet.’

Finding himself in the lift with Frontal, Gordon felt like he was the prisoner.

‘He’s a character,’ Frontal said as he pressed the not-very-secret code into the keypad.

‘He said you were going to end up town clerk when we were in third grade,’ Gordon said.

‘That’s nice. I appreciate that.’

In the forecourt of the nursing home, the sun ricocheted off the concrete. The street used to be housing commission, but was now duplexes on one side and this nursing home on the other. Gordon searched his pockets for his key ring while Frontal unlocked his car by murmuring something to his phone.

‘And he always said you were going to end up where you are, too,’ Frontal said. ‘Fathers and sons, eh? The old drama.’

Gordon located his key.

‘You’re going to cop a belting in court,’ Frontal stated. ‘The thing with your neighbour. Hard to see why you’re bothering.’

‘Principle.’

Frontal was nodding ruminatively. ‘I get that. Sometimes I stand on the beach and look up at all those squillion-dollar places, and I see the ghosts of the old houses. This town’s empty most of the year, that’s the sad thing. Real estate on the beach, at today’s prices, is a collectible for the super-rich. I know where you’re coming from, mate.’