Afterwards, Lucky told himself that maybe Alexander had secretly hated him all along. Or maybe he wasn’t up to the work. Or maybe the subcontractors were to blame, or maybe this or maybe that. Whatever the case, in early 1975, after several dry months, it rained heavily in Sydney and the surrounding region and every one of Alexander’s roofs failed to withstand the downfall. The walls had the look of stained aprons. Water drowned the restaurant floors and the vinyl came up like wet pages. Further north, the roof collapsed on the new franchise in Forster.

In a phone call to Lucky, a structural engineer read from his written report, which described the roofs as ‘lightly conformed’ and the walls ‘incorrectly mortised’, and four of the nine buildings ‘appeared to be moving in a downward motion’. Astounded Lucky, in a call to Alexander, asked: ‘Did you build these joints with fucking glue?’

Soon Alexander stopped answering the phone. Phoenix Constructions engaged a lawyer. Again Lucky visited each of the nine new restaurants. Looking for every crack, gap, lean, mistake, betrayal. Finding all such problems before him. They may as well have been built on the edge of a cliff. They may as well, all nine, all uninhabited, have been derived from some old offence of Lucky’s, some wrongdoing at the start of his career.

In June, Phoenix Constructions declared bankruptcy. The repairs were yet to be paid for. The new franchisees were still not trading. And there were loans: massing and frightening loans.

3.

Lucky asked Shirley: ‘Is Alexander involved with your business?’

‘Never met the man. And Christ, we don’t want to. But we know that he’s started work again. He’s running a building company set up by his cousin, a cafe owner in Ashfield. The new company isn’t called Phoenix Constructions, but, well, you get the idea.’

‘Someone should have told me that. My lawyer, for example.’

‘We respect what you’ve done with the franchise. You’re a visionary. We mean that. But what we’re going to do with this business—I promise, it’s going to make you proud. We’ll keep the Lucky’s brand name. It will be your company, in a sense.’

‘It won’t be mine. Don’t insult me.’

‘People will think it’s yours. They’ll credit you to some degree.’

‘Do you think I’m going to give up everything I’ve gained through long and painful experience?’ said Lucky. ‘That it counts for nothing?’

‘You’re in enormous debt, Mr Mallios. You’re in financial pain,’ said Shirley. ‘We can make that pain go away.’

The look of pity on Shirley’s face knocked Lucky flat. Or maybe it was a mask and she was enjoying the transaction. Lucky couldn’t tell; he folded; he forced out the words.

‘You’ve beat me,’ said Lucky.

‘Thank you,’ Shirley said softly.