‘She had eczema.’

‘Yeah? Fuck, I thought she was just addicted to scratching and that.’

‘Mighta been on the ice,’ Ty said. ‘Seen a fella scratch right through to his insides once on that shit.’

Kylie rolled her eyes at Lena, saying, ‘Yeah, Ty, she was on ice at the age of ten.’

‘Could be, could be.’

‘Anyway, I know she was going to uni to do teaching because she came into Mac’s—you know the chicken place up at the centre? Yeah, so I work there a couple nights a week—and she came in one time, like three years ago or something, and she said how she’d gotten into the teaching course and that. She looked pretty pleased with herself. Can’t remember if her arms were scratched up or not. That’d be a bit shit for a teacher to have skin flying off and that, hey?’

‘The treatment for eczema is heaps better now,’ Lena said, although she had no idea if it was true. She was sinking into a pleasure she’d long forgotten—being the clever one, being appreciated for that.

‘Good to know. So what are you going to teach? Like the little ones or … ?’

‘Yeah, primary. But actually, maybe not. I’m thinking of dropping out.’

‘How come?

‘Lots of reasons. I haven’t been going much, exams are starting and … I dunno. It just feels kinda pointless, you know?’

‘Fuck, what doesn’t, mate?’ Kylie said, but then reached behind and stroked the sleeping child’s arm and smiled a little.

‘Yeah, so, weird thing, though. You remember my aunty Nic?’ ‘Yes! She always had rainbow Paddle Pops in the freezer. And she painted our nails for us, like all different colours and with glitter and that. We used to pretend she was our mum. How’s she doing?’

‘Turns out she’s, like, a total hoarder these days.’

‘Fuck, for real? Mrs Kidd in the block one over’s a hoarder. Department’s been trying to get her out for ages, hey, but she’s got some lawyer or social worker or something, this smart bitch who keeps fending them off. They tried to get some cleaners in a while back. Poor Mrs Kidd. Screamed her fucking head off the whole time, cops came and all. Remember that, Ty? When the cops were up at Mrs Kidd’s?’

‘They were looking for her husband.’

‘No, they weren’t. That’s a stupid shit rumour.’

‘Yeah, well how come he just stopped turning up at the pub one night and then after that the mad old thing starts filling her house with so much shit no one can get inside? I’ll tell youse why. Because she’s knocked him off and his body’s hidden somewhere under all that crap. He’ll be dust before anyone gets to him.’

‘Maybe he took off because of all the shit. Didn’t want to live in it anymore.’