I slung my backpack in the footwell of Rani’s car, got in and fiddled with my phone. ‘Bec’s sent us an optimised Google map with our hottest ghost sightings. And she’s signed it Overwatch.’

‘Overwatch?’

‘Arrowverse.’

‘Oh.’ Rani thought about this. ‘Bec and you go back a long way, don’t you?’

Something in the way she said that put me on high alert. It wasn’t a question, not quite, but she glanced at me, waiting for an answer. ‘Yes,’ I said after a while.

‘That must be grand.’

‘Yes.’

‘You share so much.’

‘Are we going anywhere in particular with this?’

Rani accelerated smoothly, making the traffic around us appear to go backwards. ‘Just curious.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘I don’t have any friends like that, none with a history like Bec and you.’

Right. Losing her parents, being adopted and then being snapped up by the Company of the Righteous for advanced ghost-hunting training. Not exactly the standard sandcastle-building/tree-climbing/bike-riding childhood Bec and I had shared. ‘We pretty much know each other back to front, I guess.’

‘So it seems. You two have something special, you know.’

‘We’re lucky.’

‘So special, I sometimes feel like a gooseberry.’

‘Who the what?’

‘A gooseberry. An unwanted third person when two particularly close people are together.’ She glanced at me. ‘And I’m guessing from your stupefied face that gooseberry is a Brit term and you’ve never heard it before.’

I felt my face with my fingers. ‘This, indeed, is a stupefied expression. Gooseberry.’

‘But you can’t deny my point. You and Bec have something special.’

‘But so do you two! And I’m the one who’s excluded, not you! Hold on a second.’ I held my finger in the air. ‘Bec said that she felt on the outer because you and I have the whole ghost-hunting thing.’

Rani took a while to process this. ‘But I thought …’

‘Yeah, but I thought …’

‘And you’re saying Bec thought …’

‘I know. What if we say that we all have something special with each other and that means no one’s on the outer. We’re all included, but each in different ways?’

Rani frowned. ‘Did you think of this all yourself?’

I slapped my chest. ‘Mature Anton, ready to sift the complexities of emotions at a moment’s notice.’

‘In a wonderfully simplistic way. Often, Anton, things aren’t as straightforward as you’d like them to be.’

Ouch. ‘Just trying to help, is all.’

‘Right, the fix-it mentality. Sometimes, though, glue and hammer and nails aren’t enough.’ She sighed. ‘Leave it with me, Anton. I’ll be all right.’

‘Hey, don’t make a problem worse than it is. We’ve misunderstood each other, that’s all. No big deal.’

‘I hope not, Anton. I hope not.’

‘Me too.’

While Rani concentrated on traffic, I admired Bec’s map. So shiny.

‘I’ve set up a meeting with the Scots,’ Rani said when we stopped at some lights.

‘Hey, how’d you do that? I was looking forward to combing every pub in the city, except that’d be terrible stereotyping.’

‘I messaged them.’

‘You have their number?’

‘They have mine.’

‘How’d they get it? Some arcane ghost-hunter trickery? Their dog is a black-hat hacker?’

‘They rang the bookshop and Bec gave it to them.’

I shook my head in wonder. ‘Such esoteric methods, far beyond the knowledge of mere mortals.’

‘Things are moving. Where are we meeting?’

‘Pellegrini’s.’

For someone who was a relative newcomer to Melbourne, Rani had a good handle on its top coffee locations. True, she had a lot to select from, but her choices were consistently good. Pellegrini’s is a bit of Melbourne coffee history. In the 1950s, they got the first-ever espresso machine in the city, at a time when I expect there were dinosaurs and mammoths roaming up and down Bourke Street. At first glance, it’s not what you’d call a super classy place, but it has a grungy authentic vibe and a no-nonsense approach to serving coffee to live for, with some of those tiny, super sweet and usually almondy biscuits on the side.

Rani made sure we got there a bit early. She ordered our espressi in Italian with an accent that made the barista smile even more widely than he had when she walked in.

I inhaled first, then sipped and was immediately a better man.

I was savouring that first mouthful when someone slapped me on the back. ‘Oi!’ Kirsten said to the barista after pointing at my cup. ‘Two of those, laddie!’

She took the stool next to me, and an impressed Jamie climbed onto the one on the other side of Rani. ‘Bonnie place, this,’ he said. ‘Reminds me of Naples.’

‘Nice Band-Aid,’ I said, pointing to his forehead. ‘You like Peppa Pig, do you?’

‘You got something against Peppa Pig?’

‘How could anyone have anything against a pig who has a teddy bear?’

The barista eyed Fergus, who Kirsten had led into the café. He sat down, thumping his tail on the floor, but at the mention of Naples the barista brightened. Rani noticed his interest and spoke to him in Italian for a while about – I guess – the delights of Naples. After that he was our best friend. We could get down to business with Kirsten and Jamie, and Fergus was welcome.

‘We’re having a little trouble getting on top of Melbourne’s ghost outbreak,’ I started off.

‘No shit?’ Jamie scoffed a couple of the little biscuits.

‘We’ve been having a right old time slicin’ ’em up. Top holiday stuff, that,’ Kirsten added.

I winced. Their ways weren’t our ways, but right now we had to take what help we could get.

‘How would you like some more ghost action?’ Rani asked.

Jamie frowned. ‘Meaning?’

‘We’ve got an organised network of ghost spotters out there,’ I said. ‘We gather sightings and prioritise them according to severity. What if we shared this information with you?’

Jamie screwed up his face. ‘And what would you be wanting in return?’ Kirsten asked.

‘Nothing,’ Rani said. ‘We’re simply looking for help in a crisis.’

‘Crisis, eh?’ Jamie said. ‘Are you sure that it’s not just a way to spy on the quality ghost-dispatching techniques of the Loyal Ghost Hunting Order of the Knights Puissant of St Mungo and St Cuthbert?’

‘Spy on and steal,’ Kirsten said.

‘We’re quite happy with our ghost-hunting techniques,’ Rani said.

‘Aye,’ Kirsten said. ‘Namby pamby Marin ghost-hunting ways.’

‘Hold on a second,’ I said. ‘We’re offering you this information despite your dispatching methods, not because of them. Slashing ghosts until they fall apart with no hope of going on? That’s not only cruel, but it’s lazy.’

Both Kirsten and Jamie started to get to their feet, protesting, but Rani’s steely grip on Jamie’s forearm stopped them. ‘A partnership between two professional organisations shouldn’t start like this, should it?’ she said. ‘Deep breaths all round.’

The Scots settled again, muttering. I held up both hands. ‘I overstepped the mark.’

‘Aye, you did that,’ Jamie said. ‘And it’s not exactly making us feel cooperative.’

‘I’m starting to wonder about your hidden agenda,’ Kirsten said. ‘You want us on your side, even though you don’t like our ways? Something’s going on.’

‘No agenda,’ Rani said, ‘apart from saving the public from this plague of ghosts. It’s our duty.’

Jamie bristled. ‘Are you saying that we’ve forgotten our duty?’

‘It doesn’t hurt to get a reminder now and then,’ I said.

Kirsten thumped the counter. ‘Don’t you go telling us what’s our duty and what’s not! We’re not a bunch of amateurs like you Marins!’

I flinched. ‘What?’

Jamie was with her. He pointed a very serious finger at me. ‘We have to consider our position. Associating with half-arsed ghost hunters cannae be good for our reputation.’

‘Half-arsed ghost hunters?’ I repeated. ‘Is that how you see us?’

‘If the cap fits,’ Kirsten said.

‘This sort of talk isn’t helping,’ Rani said.

‘And you,’ Jamie said to her. ‘You’ve got some potential, but you’re wastin’ it here. Too scared to get out into the real ghost-hunting world?’

Aargh! Too far! ‘Look,’ I said, ‘we don’t need advice from a pair of over-aggressive holiday-makers who seem to be spoiling for a fight.’ I jabbed a finger at them. ‘We’ve got enough on our hands without having to try to sweet-talk a couple of idlers who make soccer hooligans look good.’

‘That’s enough,’ Rani said through gritted teeth.

‘Aye, at least that’s something we can agree on,’ Kirsten said. This time she stood before Rani could stop her. A red-faced and fuming Jamie followed. ‘We’ll be on our way.’