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new passenger who got on. Let me say that, apart from keeping my eye on the kids, at no stage did my thoughts wander from the strange miracle of the ingot in my pocket, sitting with my keys and a tissue and a packet of lifesavers. A beautiful word—ingot. Bullion is another lovely word. I’d had to make certain my pockets did not have any holes. I could not bring myself to put it in a handbag in case it was snatched by someone.
    A small part of me wondered where the ingot had come from, but only a very small part. Smaller still, the civic voice that told me to hand it in as lost property and hope for a reward. That was plan B. It’s nice to have a plan. I suspect the ingot had more to do with the shots and the police that the Family Hotel attracted or maybe the used car lot next door. Or both. Or nothing. What on earth would something like that be doing sitting on the street? One of those little imponderables of the world, really. Like my father leaving home when I was nineteen. Not for any reason that I could see. I don’t have a clear understanding of his relationship with my mother but they always gave the appearance of being happy. I can clearly remember the last words I ever heard him speak. They were: ‘Can you move your car?’
    I only hope the children’s father doesn’t say anything so cruel.
    â€˜Mum, what’s this?’
    I’ll never forget the sight of it when Jayden opened his palm and held it up to me. It was like a lightning bolt. I knew instantly what it was, even though I’d only ever seen gold on television before. We kept it in the sugar bowl. A bit bigger than a die or is it dice? I can never tell. One morning I woke up early to find Jayden sitting at the table weighing it in his hand. Intermingled with my pride in him was a feeling of uneasiness. I made a cup of tea and we sat in bed trying not to talk about it.
    â€˜It’s not that important,’ I said, really believing it.
    Inside the Gold Exchange, a bundle of nerves, I approached the counter. Fifteen long steps from the door. The woman there, a proper Madam in a suit with gold cuff links, looked me up and down without changing her expression. Disdain.
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜I’d like to exchange some gold.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ said Madam, glancing at my jeans. ‘Show me the ring.’
    It wasn’t a question. Already she was looking elsewhere. Bitch. Jayden’s nose left a smear on a glass display cabinet. Good.
    â€˜It’s not a ring. It’s bullion.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    Her temperament changed immediately. She directed me to a gentleman at the end of a long counter.
    He was perched on a pedestal, owlish behind a tall walnut desk like a judge’s bench. I don’t really know if it was a walnut desk, I just like the sound of it. Walnut. Ingot. Bullion. My knees were trembling and I badly wanted to wee. I had to reach up like a schoolgirl to hand it to him.
    His eyebrows barely reacted. He inserted his little eyepiece into his socket and studied it. Nodding to himself. Saying ‘Mmm.’ Saying he’d be back in a moment. His chair squeaked.
    â€˜Where’s he taking it?’ Jayden asked. ‘Is he stealing it?’
    â€˜It’s all right. He’ll bring it back.’
    I was petrified. Any minute I half expected the police to burst in and arrest me. At this point Bianca loudly filled her nappy.
    When he returned he held an envelope.
    â€˜At today’s market value, Madam, if you wish to proceed beyond an evaluation, this item would be redeemable for—.’
    He handed me the envelope with a figure written on the front.
    I almost fainted.
    $2 680
    I opened the envelope. Cash. Holy… I turned to leave.
    â€˜Excuse me.’
    My heart jumped. My bladder bursting.
    â€˜Yes,’ I squeaked, ‘I suppose you want to know where I got it from?’
    â€˜Er, no, madam. I was speaking to my colleague.’
    And he was. The