“Al, tell me about the first time you came here,” Jess asked. 'Here' was Max' flat. We were having our usual Friday fish and chip night. Jess was Max's Sydney casual manager, pay-mistress, the flat caretaker and she even drove his car about to keep the battery charged. He rarely used the flat now. He'd taken to stopping in an inner-city hotel on the rare occasion that he came to town. We don't mind, we often stopped over here since we'd become engaged. Very nice! "The first time I came here? You mean this flat, Jess?" I asked. "No. Why were you in Melbourne and why did you come back to Sydney?" She doesn't need to know anything about that disaster. I chewed a chip and tried to ignore her. “Well?” She persisted. “It's a fairly boring story, Jess.” “So bore me.” I'm gunna have to skate over some of the details, I thought. “Well, my little chickadee, Max was setting up a security firm in Melbourne and was looking for staff. An old army buddy told him that I was available, ex-army, sturdy and incredibly handsome---” “Whooh, back up there, Al. You 're as handsome as a house-brick with a self-haircut. The truth. Now!” I glared at her. “I'm taking my share of the fish and chips and leaving.” “Aren't you going to wait for the sweets?” She smiled demurely. I gotta admit, Jess could be persuasive. Sweets, she said. I hope so! “So I went to Melbourne. Max'n'me hit it off, he was ex-army - ten years earlier. We did security and branched out into debt- collecting, Then I found that I was missing Sydney's better weather and my parents so I came back to Sydney and found a beautiful girl.” I told her. I didn't tell her that I scuttled back with my tail between my legs. ---- Or about Max ringing me at 3.00 am. “Al,” he's coughing, “ bloody flu! Get outa there right now. Some bad people are coming for you,” he was croaking, “turn left outa the door and watch for a black Holden that I'm sending for you. Move it, now!” I'd been sleeping in me undies. Good start . Climbed into me jeans, windcheater and jacket. Stepped into my sneakers. I had a half packed footy-bag that I lived out of. I swept the stuff off my bedside table into it, into the bathroom, the same with my toiletry gear. Last thing: my overcoat hanging in the old wardrobe, folded and draped it over the top of me bag and I'm gone. Down the stairs, lingered on the landing, looking with longing at Lulu's little love nest. Down to the front door and peered out. Nothing moving. Not even a mouse. I crossed the road and headed for a recessed, dark shop doorway. And waited. A dark car rounded a corner and cruised towards me. A black Holden. I stepped out and onto the road. The car stopped and the window came down. “Al?” He asked. “Yeah, Mate,” I said. “Get in. Don't muck about.” I threw my bag in the rear door and followed it. “Where we goin'? I asked. “Southern Cross Station. You're to catch the first train out of Melbourne, where-ever it's going,” he said and drove off. “I've got an envelope with some cash and instructions for you.” I noticed he was taking a lot of corners. “You takin' the scenic route?” I queried. “Max said to take evasive action. I've even got to change cars,” the driver told me. “Whatever, go for it. Max is pretty smart.” We wheeled around a couple more corners and entered a dark, multi-storey car park. The boom-gate was bent sideways. “We change cars here Al and then straight on to Southern Cross station.” Up to the second floor, still dark but our headlights lit up a parked car by the far wall. As we slowed and approached it the doors opened and four large, swarthy gents alighted. Disturbing! Even more disturbing, they were carrying things in their hands. I thought I could see a hammer. I knew they weren't gunna panel-beat this car. “Party time, Al,” my driver said. With a clenched sphincter muscle, I took my recently acquired knife from my bag. It was near the top just under my coat. I leaned forward and nicked the side of his neck. “Get me outa here Ace or you're the first to die,” I told him. Fortunately I'd belted meself in earlier. He slid the car around in it's own length and tore out, missing thugs and concrete pillars by inches, flying down the ramp and up the road. “Keep up the good work and I might let you see the sunrise,” I told him toughly. Then I'd like to track down the lying, imitation Max that phoned me and seriously hurt him. We wove through the back streets. The driver knew his life depended on preserving my life. We came to Sydney Road but where? I spotted a big Shell Service Station with a lot of taxis clustered around it. “Take the next on the right, Ace,” I said. Which he did. “Pull over. Lights out." I'd been poking around the rear of the car looking for a weapon. I didn't want to kill him – unless I had to. Then I found the perfect weapon. A small collapsible brolly. With a hard round end. “Okay Ace, we're going for walkies,” I lied. I'd dropped the knife onto my bag, grasped the attack brolly in both hands and drove the end of it into his temple. He bounced off his window and slumped forward. I checked him out. No blood, a steady pulse. I ran my hands over his pockets and collected his phone, a knife and his wallet – which I ratted. All of that plus the car keys went under his car. It was drizzling so I took the brolly and carried my bag via a couple of back streets to the big Shell servo. ---- Al, can you hear me up there on your planet?” It was Jess banging on. “Ah,” I said positively. “And that's it.” “Al, are you alright? You're sitting opposite an adorable young lady who you called Ace but otherwise ignoring her. Have you something on your mind?” C'mon Al, you can do it, I thought. “Yeah, I was distracted by the forthcoming sweets you mentioned earlier.” Brilliant save, my boy, I thought. “Is that wine bottle empty?” I asked as a further distraction ploy. “Ah well, shall we go straight to the sweets?” “Soon, my Lothario,” Jess said. “You were about to tell me what brought you back to Sydney apart from the weather?” “Oh yeah, hang on, it was a while back and I'm trying to sort out the timing." ---- I walked into the big Shell servo and found they had an all night cafe. Well they would. It seemed to be a taxi base. Even at this hour of the morning there was plenty of activity. Who said Melbourne died at 9 pm? I bought a pie with sauce, a mug of coffee and found a table in a corner. I phoned the real Max. My Max! “Do you know what time it is? Where the hell are you? When I find you I'm going to set the dogs onto you,” Max growled. “Max, I'm knee-deep in it. There's five thugs after me. Well four at the moment.” “Once again, where are you?” “Sydney Road, there's a big Shell servo that's a taxi base. Traffic lights and I don't know the cross street.” “Well ask someone, Al.” Which I did and told Max. “I know where you are. I'll be there in under thirty minutes. Sit with your back to the wall. Don't go outside. Don't go to the loo. Just keep your head down. Okay?” “Yeah, thanks Max.” I hoped he'd find me before the thugs did. But as a precaution, I had my assault brolly on my lap. ---- “Al, I'm still waiting. Did the police chase you out of Melbourne? An irate daughter's father?” Jess asked. “I know. You impregnated the premier's daughter thus driving shards of glass into my innocent, maidenly heart. We're through, Al. Sorry, no more sweets!" “No, no. It was a matter of territory.” And that's pretty close to the truth. “Two different security companies squabbling over customers,” I told her. “Max thought that I was too confrontational, so he told me to take a holiday while he sorted the problem.” That's nearly the truth. I hoped that she believed me ---- Max walked into the big Shell servo looking for me. I gave him a wave. He sat down, glared at me and said. “You do know why these people are trying to kill you, don't you?” “Is it because I hurt that nasty, little, knife-wielding bastard that was trying to kill me?” “Spot on, Al.” “Well I wasn't gunna let him kill me, Max. But I told you about that.” I remembered being on a security patrol around a block of a dozen sheds when a little bloke walked around the corner and demanded to know who the hell I was. I told him that I was the security bloke and asked him who he was. He told me that his firm had taken over the security in this area. He pulled a knife and told me to bugger off or he'd slice'n'dice me. “I don't know if he realised that I had a bloody big Maglite torch hanging down by my side. Then he did - because I swung it into his knee. He bent over screaming so I belted him on the head with the very same torch as he went down. Out like a light. He shoulda known not to take a knife to a torch fight. I checked his vitals but he hadn't gone to Glory. I stuck his knife in my belt, I thought it may come in handy one day. “Next step: I rang you, Max. No answer! No answer, Max! No help, Max. I remembered that this time of night, on a Friday, you spend an hour or so, personally helping that fleshy matron with her security. A job that should be farmed out to a younger and doubtlessly more active subordinate. Thus leaving you free to take care of business. But no --- “So I had to wing it. I went through his pockets, found his driving licence and car keys,” I said. “Then backed his car into the complex, loaded him into the boot, delivered him to his home and to the arms of his loved ones as an 'up yours' gesture.” “And that's where you went wrong, Al," Max told me. "The home of his loved ones is infested by nasty, suspicious animals and they have security cameras everywhere. They have a video of you driving there and exiting the car. Of you, Al, in all your homely glory. They searched the car and found their loved one succumbing to a heart attack. He died, Al! “They didn't go to the police, they have too much evil-doing going on to attract attention. They used the same cleaning service that I've had to use on occasion to dispose of the sadly demised. They hunted you down because your victim was the younger brother of the boss. Needless to say, they took umbrage at the situation and so here we are.” “What'll we do, Max?” “You'll take my car, drive it to Sydney, put it out of sight in the garage of my Sydney flat. Don't use your credit card. Here's the car keys, a card with the phone number of my Sydney contact. Ring her when you're close. Here's some money to see you home then you're on your own. Oh yeah, keep a low profile for a while.” “What'll you do?” “See you safely off, have a coffee and get one of these cabbies to take me home. I will then make a phone call to even nastier people than our current adversaries.” ---- “So you came up here for a holiday, did some odd-jobs around the place?” Jess asked. “You did some Sydney debt collecting for Max and otherwise lived off your parents?” “And my army pension. Then I met a beautiful girl who inspired me to stay here in Sydney, to get a regular job and become a responsible citizen.” “Excellent choice, Al," Jess nodded. "Do you think that it's too late for sweets?” I asked.