‘I tell you one thing, John. I’d only take you if you stayed clean and helped around the house and didn’t give yer mother grief every five minutes.’

‘I don’t—’

‘I talk to her, she tells me.’

‘Well, they tell you bullshit.’

‘No.’ He turned to his apprentice. ‘That’s just the thing. If you’re told something.’

‘I’ve always done what I’m told.’

‘Breakin’ inta delis? Johnson won’t put up with any of that. First time you answer him back …’

John glared at me, like he wanted me gone. I took the hint, stood, left the shed, but lingered outside, listening.

‘You say I stole, but what about Dad?’

Pop took a moment. ‘I’m just sayin’, takes a bita work to hold down a job. I gotta be sure.’

‘And I’m tellin’ you, there’s nothin’ wrong with me.’

I didn’t think Pop really believed there was any excuse. I’d heard his speech about the sins of the father, and how you weren’t them, and you had to answer for your own deeds, and other bits of Bible he’d trot out when it suited him.

I noticed the shadow, turned, and saw the broad shoulders, the white shirt, the tie. ‘How are yer, Clem?’

‘Hi, Mr Harper.’

‘Your pop around?’

‘I reckon, somewhere. Said he was gonna call you when it was ready.’

‘I hadn’t heard, thought I’d look see.’ He just stood, waiting.

‘You wanna come in?’

‘Is he in there?’ He indicated the shed door.

‘Well …’

But there was no point: Pop’s voice, John’s, venting from the shed. Mr Harper went in anyway, and I followed.

‘Doug? How are you?’

‘Glen … this is John, he’s been helping me with yer car.’

Hands shook, smiles exchanged. Then Harper noticed his car. ‘You got it back in okay?’

I couldn’t watch. I stepped back and leaned against the outside of the shed.

‘We were putting it back in and we had an accident … me and Clem.’

‘Jesus.’

‘You can see, it damaged this panel.’

‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I’s gonna, but John here, he’s got an apprenticeship at Johnson’s, reckoned we could fix it, so I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘It’s never had a dent, nothin’. I thought you were good.’

‘Well, the engine’s runnin’ fine. You wanna hear it?’

Silence. That’d be Harper, inspecting the repairs. ‘You’re never gonna get that to match, Doug.’

‘Yes, we will. Teal blue. Trust me.’

‘Look, it’s a mess. The way it’s been knocked out, see, that’s not right, and the putty, that’s all over the place.’

Pop, lost. ‘Well, I’m sorry.’

‘Bet yer fuckin’ arse you’re sorry.’

‘Said he’s sorry,’ John began.

‘Did I ask you?’

‘I’s trying to fix it for you.’

Pop tried his best. ‘Righto, we’ll have it fixed, Glen. John, come on, you head home …’

‘I just reckon it’s pretty rude. It was an accident, and we tried to make good. That paint cost me fifteen dollars. I thought you might be grateful.’