‘When you find yourself stuck in an immigration detention centre,’ he said, ‘you take an interest in how other countries handle things.’

Manolis shrugged. ‘I suspect the Greek people’s generosity has got a lot to do with memory. They remember what happened a hundred years ago when Greece was flooded with refugees from Turkey. There are many people today with a refugee parent or grandparent. They want to honour them.’

Craning his neck to check on Deacon, Cook saw the guard now playing with an enormous key ring heavy with metal. On his other hip swung a hook-nosed rescue tool, a Hoffman knife.

‘See that?’ Cook said, voice lowered. ‘They call it a “cut-down knife”. They use it on inmates found hanging from nooses.’

Manolis swallowed. Cook gestured in the direction of the detention centre.

‘There’s a bloke up there who’s dug himself a six-foot grave behind Lilac Compound. He lies in it all day and all night.’

Cook said the various detention centre compounds had been given anodyne titles like Lilac, White and Gold. Primary colours were apparently too provocative.

‘And you should see the children,’ Cook said. ‘Can you imagine, being a young kid in that place?’

‘I can’t.’

Manolis mentioned the little girl he’d seen at the centre with sticky tape over her mouth.

‘Her mother put it there,’ said Cook. ‘It was after the other detainees in her donga had complained about the girl’s constant crying. The mum didn’t want further conflict.’

Manolis was appalled.

His horror turned to dismay when Cook said, ‘The children don’t know how to play anymore. I watch them, they don’t know what to do with puzzles and picture books. They don’t explore, don’t even talk. They just sit there numbly eating bits of foam rubber and paper. It breaks my heart.’

Manolis let the image settle in his mind. To make it go away, he pictured his son playing with the wooden train set he’d bought last Christmas.

‘Molly was especially troubled by the kids,’ Cook went on. ‘As a teacher, she was kept away from the worst conditions. But she saw them at the school where she taught in town and asked me about them all the time. I was candid with her, and because she cared about me, this had an impact.’

His sentiments were echoing what the principal had told Manolis during interview.

‘Molly was a woman with a conscience,’ Cook added.

Manolis nodded lightly.

‘Are you a parent?’ Cook asked.

Another personal question. Manolis paused. This time, when it came to his own child, he didn’t want a part of the conversation. ‘No,’ he lied.

‘Just as well. This isn’t a country into which to bring new life, let alone a world.’

Manolis refocused. ‘Where were you Friday night?’ he asked directly.