My introduction to James was far from a meet-cute. We were teenagers, working at a Bankstown shopping centre. He was prone to mansplaining (I didn’t know what that was back then, but I did know it annoyed me) and arrived late to work every day. I was a terrible salesperson, prone to telling customers where they could find things cheaper. But I was the darling of our employers because I turned up on time and had a predilection for cleaning the store. It was February 2005 and the neighbourhood was still reeling from the racial vilification that had plagued its community in the aftermath of the Skaf gang rapes, 9/11 and the Bali bombings.