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about going back to the Murder House to get my bag. I had risked my life, the only life left to us, now that Tom was gone. I had to be more careful. I decided not to tell Granddad about finding Mr Garnet. Nothing spoils an evening at home listening to the radio faster than some kid turning up and telling you he found a half-dead bloke practically on your doorstep. Stands to reason. And Mum was definitely out. She already thought I was a liar, or crazy, or both. Granddad was always telling me to let well enough alone, so I thought I would.
    When I got back home I found the two of them having a cuppa, which was a common occurrence on Saturdays. I grabbed a slice of Madeira cake, to make Mum feel better. I hoped Granddad was going to ask her if he could take me out for the day. I never knew where we were going to end up till we arrived, because he’d always spin Mum a yarn about where we were off to.
    â€˜So where are you taking him this time?’ she asked, once Granddad said the magic words. ‘Off to see one of your crooked mates, I suppose. You know what I think of that, Dad. He’ll just pick up bad habits.’
    â€˜Now, love, some of my cobbers are straight blokes.’
    â€˜Name one.’
    Granddad wasn’t falling for that one.
    â€˜Look, all I’m sayin’ is, don’t jump to conclusions. We’re off to Ryrie’s to visit a few old boxing mates, then I thought we’d drop in at Vic Market: I have to see a man about a dog.’
    â€˜See a man about a dog, eh? Just mind he doesn’t come home swearing like a wharfie.’
    â€˜God’s honour, love.’
    I don’t like standing next to Granddad when he says things like that, in case he gets struck by lightning. Sister Benedict says every time lightning strikes, a blasphemer gets killed, and the weather had been pretty dodgy lately.
    Mum didn’t smile, but she didn’t put her foot down, either. She knew how much Granddad loved to keep in touch with his old mates in the fight game, and she knew I loved to hang out with him. Also, she didn’t want to stop Granddad coming home from the market with a ham, which was always a possibility when someone owed him money and had to cough up something else instead.
    A part of me thought Granddad might have been telling the truth about where we were going, but another part of me knew from experience that we could end up anywhere, and usually did.
    Often, on these trips, we’d visit Aunty Queenie, over in South Melbourne, or sometimes we’d visit some aunt I’d never heard of. Either way, he’d say to me: ‘Best we don’t tell anyone where we’ve been today,’ which really meant: ‘Best we don’t tell Mrs Morgan or Mum.’ Sometimes we’d go down to the wharves and go onto one of the ships to pick up a parcel or down to the beach to watch the racehorses paddling around before the races. It was always an adventure, though it seemed to me that, although Granddad’s and my adventures coincided, they did so only geographically.
    Usually, when we got to where we were going, I’d take off and do a bit of exploring. And there is no doubt at all that when it comes to places to explore, ships win hands down as they are full of secret tunnels and passages, and hatches that open to ladders, and ladders that lead to hatches. The inside of a ship is like a snakes and ladders game made of steel, that you are actually inside. Although we only ever went onto three ships, I never did memorise their secrets, which is probably just as well. I was drawing one of those ships on the map while Granddad and Mum were talking, and he came over to have a gander at the map, and gave me one of those looks you give another kid when you think he’s going to touch your lunch. He got my rubber and started to erase it, while looking at me and shaking his head seriously. I’d been around long enough to know what that look meant, and I