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red-faced.
    The driver let Silence go.
    Silence milked it. He tugged his hoodie back into place and scowled.
    ‘Sorry, mate,’ the driver said. ‘Lots of purse snatchings lately.’
    I stood, incredulous, as the Japanese woman pressed aten-dollar note into my palm. She peeled off another and handed it to Silence. He bowed. She bowed back. The two of them looked like a couple of bobbing birds.
    I grabbed Silence’s hand and pulled him away. We sat on a flight of cold stone steps overlooking a water fountain.
    Silence’s ears were pink and he wouldn’t look at me.
    ‘That was stupid,’ I said. ‘How many times a day do you do that?’
    He held up three fingers, then flicked up a fourth.
    ‘And is that what you call work?’
    Yes.
    ‘Is that what the others call work, too?’
    Some.
    ‘It’s theft, is what it is. What if you took that poor woman’s passport and she couldn’t go home? What happens if you steal a man’s wallet and his kids can’t eat?’
    Silence let his shoulders drop. He looked down at his feet.
    ‘Aren’t you scared of getting caught?’ My voice was shrill. ‘Why do you do this?’
    He shrugged again. He pulled out his notebook and wrote: I need to make $200 a week.
    ‘For what? To live?’
    To stay.
    Silence jerked to his feet and beckoned me to follow. We traipsed along a sawdust pathway between rows of shedding plane trees, through an archway draped with vines, and into a clearing. He pushed his way througha cluster of bamboo stalks and stooped to prise open a green box that looked like an old water meter. The lid flipped open and he stood there, shamefaced.
    There was a graveyard of wallets and purses scattered in the bottom of the pit.
    I sucked in my breath, then let it out with a whistle. ‘You’re pretty good at this,’ I said. ‘You’re the Artful friggin’ Dodger, reincarnated.’
    Silence frowned. I think he knew it wasn’t meant to be a compliment.
    ‘If you need money, I’ll give you what I have. You can’t keep doing this. How old are you, anyway?’
    He gave me three bunches of fives.
    ‘You’ll have to find another way to make a living. First this, then you’ll graduate to home invasions and muggings.’
    Silence looked mortified. He put the lid back on the box and dusted off his hands.
    ‘How do we get out of here? I’m hungry.’ I changed the subject because all those lost things made me feel unbearably sad.
    Silence took me to a takeaway shop in a dirty street full of bars with blacked-out windows. Sandwich boards advertised happy hours and silhouettes of female bodies promised good times. We ate greasy kebabs on a park bench and watched men come and go through the curtained doorways.
    ‘Do you know where I can find the university?’ I asked. ‘There’s somebody I need to check out.’
    Silence nodded. He pointed to his watch and showed me that it was nearly six. He wiped his chin and stood up.
    ‘Do we need to go? Back to the house?’ I said. There was a seesawing sensation in my belly.
    Induction. The word sounded like it described the process of sucking-dry, like dragging the dregs of a milkshake through a straw. Some words just don’t match their meaning at all.
    ‘Okay. I’m ready,’ I lied and bit my lip.
    You could say one thing, and mean something else.

CHAPTER SIX
    Rats. Another thing that gave me the pinprick terrors. We passed through the trapdoor. On both sides, lumpy bodies scurried along the fence line between the houses. The fig tree was alive with dark, writhing shapes and high-pitched squeaks.
    Silence picked up an apple core and buzzed it at the fence. A few seconds of stillness, then the rats resumed their dusk raid as if we weren’t even there. My teeth ground and I squeezed his hand as we made our way along the flattened path through the weeds.
    Darcy let us in. She stood back and watched me without expression as I lost my balance and landed hard on the concrete floor. When Silence offered his hand she sighed and flounced