“My life was a series of routines and rituals. I always had my coffee from a chipped beer glass with one sugar cube. Always scalded the tip of my tongue. Then I’d read the sports’ section of the Herald Sun from back to front.
I’d pass the paper on to old Mr Hunter who lived in the apartment opposite mine. He knew what I was but he was always telling me how he’d been on covert ops in the Great War. Never knew if he was telling the truth. Guess he thought the same of me.
Then it was on to the gym on Providence Street and then the office.
The office wasn’t much. Just an old weatherboard that sat facing backwards on a tiny block right in the heart of town. And, that’s where I waited for whatever job came my way.
It’s hard to fathom how many jobs I carried out, but it all came to a head when I met Colleen. Her father was my final job.
That ruined me.”