We're coming back from a meeting, talking about ice on Four Corners and Ben spots it on the floorboards. A tiny doll made of camel coloured wool wound up tight. Its head, covered in fabric gathered at the nape of the neck like a pirate, is topped by a small bell and its eyes are set wide making it look cross. It belonged to one of the Macbeth kids I'll bet but it's mine now. It's the start of a collection of faces around my desk: little cross doll and Gerry on a stick.

Now it's dark. Across the water the apartments are a grid like any other block. The layers go: harbour, lit meeting room, dark apartment, the pool at the Commonwealth Games on wide screen, dark apartment with bubbles rising in the fish tank. To the right a crane and another grid, lights at East Balmain.