‘You know the Omega Cafe in Ashfield? That’s the one. After Easter my cousin needed some painting done so he put a note in the window saying Painter wanted and next day Achilleas comes to the cafe, talking about Ithaka. Beautiful island. You’ve heard all that shit. That’s how old man gets a job. But Achilleas says to my cousin that he will paint for no money—he only needs place to stay. Damian is a sucker; I say to him he’s too nice. He puts Achilleas outside in a shed because that’s where he has the room. The shed is not too bad for one person. Achilleas has bed, and toilet out there. And he does his painting of the walls—a bodgy job, a big fucking slop—and then he says he needs to stay a bit longer. He has nowhere else to go. Maybe he can chop some wood for the stove? But my cousin knows how to use an axe, he doesn’t need someone to chop wood. Inside, Damian lives in the house behind the cafe with his wife and children. And in the morning Achilleas uses their bath, sitting in the bath making it dirty, leaving hairs. My cousin is trying to raise three children in this small place. I said I will come over and get rid of this man, make him trouble, but Damian says no, Achilleas too old, can’t put this man on the street like that. But for sure you can put someone in the street. If they’re not family, you can do it. We all know the rules. If you’re not family, I’ll put you out, like that.’

‘Achilles can be difficult and dangerous. How about I talk to him? Maybe I can help.’

‘Is it true he killed his daughter and burned down his own cafe?’

‘That’s false.’

‘It’s the story I heard,’ said Alexander.

Ashfield wasn’t far. Lucky lived in Stanmore and each morning he walked to the local franchise a few blocks away, on Percival Road, and said his hellos in the kitchen and went through a crooked door to a locked office with a desk and guest chairs and cabinets with labelled drawers. On the wall: an icon of St Vasilios (a gift from Valia; he was not religious). On his desk was an automatic electric speaker phone. When Lucky spoke to franchisees, a daily duty, he took notes and talked at the extension speaker box, which was ovoid and looked like the lidless eye of a marble head. He never raised his voice. Crazy to sit alone in a room yelling at a speaker the size of a stick of butter.