‘Or have you boys been fighting in the backyard again?’

He confesses a lie.

‘Yeah.’ He’s pretty quiet. ‘We have.’

She only sighs and believes us, which is the worst thing. It’s always bad when someone believes you when you know they shouldn’t. You feel like screaming it at them, telling them to stop, so you can live with yourself a little easier.

But you don’t.

You don’t want to disappoint them.

You can’t face your own gutless self and explain that you’re not worthy of their trust.

You can’t accept that you’re that low.

The thing is that we have been fighting in the yard, even if it’s only practice for the real thing. I guess Rube hasn’t exactly lied, but he hasn’t told the truth either.

It’s close.

I feel it.

I come so close to telling her all about it. Perry, the boxing, the money. Everything. The only thing stopping me now is the bowed head of my brother. Looking at him, I know he’s heading somewhere. He’s at the edge of something and I can’t bring myself to snatch it from under his feet.

‘Sorry Mum.’

‘Sorry Mum.’

Sorry Mrs Wolfe.

For everything.

We’ll make you proud another day.

We have to.

We must.

‘You know,’ she begins, ‘you fellas ought to be looking after each other.’ Her comment makes me realise that through the lies, the greatest irony is that we are looking out for each other. It’s just that in the end, we’re letting her down. That’s what injures us.

‘Any luck with work?’ Steve asks Dad. I can hear it. They’re in the lounge room.

‘Nah, not really.’

I expect them to begin the usual argument about getting the dole, but they don’t. Steve leaves it alone, because he doesn’t live here any more. He only gets a fixed look on his face and says his goodbyes. I can tell by his expression that he’s thinking, It’ll never happen to me. I won’t let it.

On the Friday of that week, what seems like a typical morning turns out to be a very important one.

Rube and I are out for a run and it’s nearly seven when we return. As always, we have our old jerseys, track pants and gymmies on. The day wears a sky with boulder clouds and a bright blue horizon. At our gate, we arrive and Sarah’s there. She asks, ‘Did y’ see Dad while you were out? He’s disappeared, ay.’

‘No,’ I reply, wondering what the big deal is. ‘Dad’s been taking walks lately.’

‘Not this early.’

Mum comes out.

‘His suit’s not there,’ she announces, and instantly, we all know. He’s down there. He’s waiting. He’s gone down to get the dole.

‘No.’

Someone says it.

Again.