Mr Invisible

by Duncan Brockwell

  As Amelia lay on her front, the straps of her top detached, he sat up and watched the comings and goings of Manly Beach. A blistering day, easily in the mid-thirties, a blonde and a brunette, both lovely-looking, walked past him. The blonde’s eyes met his and he held her stare until she had strolled past, but not before she gave him the cutest smile. Variety was the spice of a lasting relationship, so long as she didn’t find out, he thought, watching the brunette’s rhythmic hips.

  Playing in a band had its pluses, especially on tour. On his last Australia and New Zealand tour, Kereama found a groupie at every gig, and he was often spoilt for choice. These girls threw themselves at him. Who was he to deny them?

  He couldn’t have Amelia finding out. Having been together for three years, he’d been with her since before the record label signed his band, before his group started making any real money. If he split with Amelia now, he wouldn’t trust a new girlfriend. And he was going to be wealthy in a few years. He didn’t want that headache in his life; he wanted to focus on his music. Besides, he liked Amelia well enough; he just didn’t love her. She let him do his own thing. “You hungry?” he asked her, his stomach growling. “The Pantry’s open.”

  The Pantry, his favourite beachside restaurant, was getting busy with breakfast diners. Great for traditional Aussie fare, the kitchen catered to his tastes, the finest establishment on Manly Beach. Amelia failed to acknowledge him; instead, she lay on her front soaking up the morning rays. “Hello? Ames? Are you hungry, or not?”

  “Not yet, babe. Maybe in an hour, or so.”

  He could wait, he thought, lying back, his shades shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Not a cloud in the sky, and it promised to remain clear all day. His band, The Savage Seeds, had struck lucky – a label scout had spotted them at a gig in Queensland little over a year earlier. Since signing, they’d released their first full album, and had completed their first tour, which had earned his group a small fortune, but, of course, had to be split equally five ways. While not millionaires yet, his and Amelia’s combined income was enough to allow them to buy a three-bedroomed place on Darling Point. The main drawback: they were only a short walk away from Isla and Oliver.

  They were such tools, he thought, smirking at the memory of Oliver and Shane almost coming to blows the previous night. He rooted for them to brawl, and his money was on Isla’s boyfriend to win. Shane, a show-off, stood no chance against Oliver in a fight. He thought Isla’s boyfriend a puffed up… buffoon. Yeah, buffoon described him well.

  He tolerated Shane and Oliver for one reason: Amelia. Although he didn’t love her, she was the closest he’d come to loving someone. He’d moved in with her, so that showed some commitment at least. No, too naturally selfish to fully commit to someone, anyone, Kereama knew it was a failing of his, not hers. He couldn’t ever imagine being happy with one woman. He was on borrowed time with Amelia. He would continue tasting new flavours while she knew nothing of his indiscretions.

  Shade made him open his eyes. Lying on his back, he looked up and stared at a tall, skinny guy staring down at his girlfriend, checking out her arse. Sitting up, Kereama grabbed his phone. “Here, use this to take a picture, mate,” he said, holding it up. “It’ll last longer.” He stood and glared at the blond grommit, who turned away, laughed, and carried on walking towards The Pantry. “Piece of shit! I’ll kick your arse,” he yelled up the beach.

  “Kay, sit down.” Amelia continued lying on her front. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “He was staring at your arse,” he defended, glaring at the lanky grommit’s back.

  “So what? Guys stare at my arse every day. We’ve been going out long enough. You know that.”

  Calming his temper, he sat on his towel, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the surf. There were a couple of surfers on the line-up, waiting for the perfect set. She was right: he didn’t care that guys checked her out. Why get bent out of shape now, he thought. “Sorry!”

  Amelia got up and sat next to him, her sunglasses hiding her eyes. “What’s up with you? Are you stressing about tonight?” She elbowed him playfully. “You are! You’re aggro about meeting Elf Man.”

  “What? Pshh! Are you kidding? I haven’t given that pom a second’s thought.” He hoped he didn’t sound like he was lying to her. In reality, he thought about Elf Man a lot. What kind of guy went and bought a plane ticket to fly to meet someone they followed on Chatter? A nutter, that was who.

  “So, why’re you so stressy?” Amelia asked.

  Nothing sprang to mind. “Band business, nothing major,” he lied.

  As she asked him to elaborate, his ringtone interrupted her. Seizing his chance to block her, he took his mobile out of his bag and entered his passcode.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?” Amelia asked.

  “Nah, don’t panic.” When he opened the app, Kereama saw the message was from the pom. “Nah, yeah,” he confessed, turning the phone so that she could also see it then turned it back again. “Finally here,” he read. “See you guys tonight. Can’t wait!”

  He was in Sydney. The photo uploaded with the message showed Kingsford Smith Airport terminal’s front doors. There was something about this guy; Kereama couldn’t put his finger on it. Oliver started all this, he should be the one sorting it, he thought. “Don’t worry about all this, okay?” he said, squeezing her shoulder, the fear in her eyes hurting him. “Like I said yesterday, if he turns up, he won’t be coming back for seconds.”

  His mobile ringtone told him he had a message: Oliver, asking if Elf Man had contacted him on Chatter. “Oli,” he said to her, tapping his response. It didn’t take long to receive a text from Shane as well. Then, he heard Amelia’s phone’s ringtone. It had to be one of the girls.

  Kereama listened to his girlfriend talking to Georgina about how freaked out she was. If Elf Man did show his face, Kereama, Shane and Oliver were going to enjoy kicking the shit out of him. “Come on, let’s go get some brekkie,” he suggested to Amelia, after she’d terminated her call with Georgina.

  12

  Georgina was nervous, her stomach so tight she felt nauseous as she drove her Jeep towards Bondi Beach, the potential meeting with Elf Man imminent. Wearing a white top and colourful short skirt, with thongs, her hair blowing in every direction, time felt drawn out. On the dashboard, the clock said it was approaching half seven. Next to her, Shane kept saying it didn’t bother him, yet she knew it did. “Switch the station, would you? This is boring.” She didn’t like the commercial pop tunes.

  If she didn’t know he hated heavy metal, Georgina would have put on a couple of songs by The Demented, or Disturbed. Instead, she listened to more popular music blasting through her stereo. Amelia and Isla were huge Nicki Minaj fans, but she couldn’t bear it. With a following on Chatter of over a hundred million, Georgina would more likely ask Minaj about that than about any of her songs. “And you choose this?” Glancing over at her boyfriend, she shook her head.

  With a huff, Shane leaned forwards and pressed the station button again. “Happy?” His question was laced with sarcasm when a guitar heavy song by some band she couldn’t identify came through the speakers.

  “All right, no need to bite my head off.” Concentrating on driving, traffic light along O’Sullivan Road, even for a Monday night, she slowed behind a Nissan. They would arrive at Bondi Beach inside ten minutes. “What’s the matter with you tonight anyway?”

  He told her not to worry. In silence, she drove them along Blair Street and Warner’s Avenue, until she came to Campbell Parade, where she parked on Queen Elizabeth Drive. Killing the engine and stereo, she took the key out of the ignition and put it in her bag. Shane sat motionless in the passenger seat, silent. “It’s time.” She opened her door. “Let’s go meet the others.” When Shane didn’t move, she stopped and stared at him. “What is it?”

  He turned and stared at her. “I want you to be ready, George.” He was serious. “Because if this guy does show, we’re messing him up, d
o you understand? We’re taking him down to the beach and beating the shit out of him, and I don’t want you getting upset… I need you to expect it, that way you won’t be begging me not to.”

  Being half aborigine, her mum’s half was a pacifist and deplored violence on all levels, for any reason. That being said, her dad’s half was pragmatic and taught her that whackos, like this Elf Man, needed boundaries outlined to them in ways they understood. She didn’t know this pom from Adam; she didn’t owe him anything. And the fact he’d flown over a thousand miles to be there freaked her out more than she let on, even to Shane. “Do whatever you feel’s necessary to get him to rack off; I won’t say anything if it gets physical, I promise.”

  Taking his hand, Georgina walked through the car park, past the graffiti wall and lifeguard tower, her nerves jangling inside her. Still in the early twenties, the heat made her perspire. As she strolled with Shane, watching the passers-by, she glimpsed Amelia and Kereama stood outside Lush, talking to friends. “There they are.” Georgina pulled him in the direction of the café.

  Amelia, who looked stunning in a white vest top, skirt and had her hair up in a beautiful hive display, saw her and said goodbye to her mates. Georgina didn’t recognise them. “Hey! Are Isla and Oli here yet?” Shane and Kereama nodded their acknowledgement of one another, as guys often did.

  The Starfish Pub’s outdoor tables were at about half capacity, which wasn’t surprising given that it was only a Monday night, and only January seventh. Georgina scanned the taken tables for single blokes. Only one she spied, pale of complexion, a balding man who looked to be in his early-to-mid forties. No, he couldn’t be Elf Man, she thought, squeezing Shane’s hand and gesturing the singleton. When Shane shook his head, she breathed easier.

  Amelia and Kereama chose a table closest to the beach, where they could get a good view of the comings and goings of the pub. Georgina sat next to her friend, a nervous expression creeping over her, which she expelled with a smile. The boys asked them what they wanted to drink. Being designated driver, she asked for a Diet Coke, while Amelia asked for a rum and Coke. “I’ve got butterflies,” she said, after the guys went to buy the drinks.

  “Same here. I have all day, and this pom’s not coming to meet me. I’m so sorry for not snatching your phone off Oli.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Ames.” Georgina put a comforting arm around Amelia’s waist. “No one knew he’d go and buy flights out here. Hell, even Oli wouldn’t have done it had he known. I mean, he’s a jerk, but he’s not a complete jerk.”

  “Thanks for not hating me.” Amelia rested her head on Georgina’s shoulder. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  Stroking her friend’s hair, Georgina replied, “You’re here with me now; that’s all the payment I need.” She observed the occupants of the other tables, noting that every table had at least two people sat at them. If Elf Man were here, now, he would be at a table by himself. He hadn’t mentioned meeting friends. Her heart fluttered at the thought of coming face to face with him. “Here they come.”

  When the boys returned with their drinks, they got comfortable and attempted to converse with them. It was stilted and obviously so, long silences hanging over the table. Georgina couldn’t stop her leg bobbing up and down, even when Amelia put her hand on it. She laughed whenever Shane or Kereama said something vaguely amusing.

  “Here they are,” Oliver said.

  Georgina turned around and smiled, relieved when Isla waved as she walked towards her. “Oh thank God.” Greeting her other best friend, Isla stooped down and kissed her on her cheek. “I thought you two bailed on me.”

  “I’ve got your back, George. My boyfriend started this whole thing off, so I can at least back you up.”

  She loved her friends so much, if not their choice in boyfriends. Still, she couldn’t have everything. Amelia she’d known since primary school and Isla since college. Despite knowing Amelia a lot longer, Isla had found a special place in Georgina’s life. “None of you should blame yourselves,” she said to all around her table. “Yeah, Oli did something stupid, but I’m guessing you’re never going to touch my phone again, are you?” She laughed at his expression, a hearty laugh for the first time in days. Now that they were all together, Georgina felt safe. With her friends behind her, she could do anything.

  Her joviality didn’t last long. Before Oliver could ask Isla what she wanted to drink, Georgina’s ringtone told her she had a message.

  Everyone around the table stopped talking and stared at her.

  Taking her phone out of her bag, she glanced at the screen and breathed out heavily at her mum’s text. “Thank God,” she said. “Just my olds.”

  After Oliver came back with his and Isla’s drinks, the atmosphere palpably changed. Georgina listened to the boys’ banter when she noticed it was quarter past eight. With any luck, Elf Man would be a no-show, all mouth and no trousers. It might be wishful thinking, she thought, laughing at Shane’s impression of Oliver, because the pom had paid over four thousand pounds for a plane ticket here. Why would he do that? Her fake bravado evaporated when all their phones went off.

  “He’s here.” Shane was the first to open his Chatter account to find the photo of The Starfish Pub’s entrance. Some of the customers seen buying their drinks in the photo were sat at the tables in front of them. “I wish this guy would rack off.”

  Georgina’s heart rate increased. Having a gulp of her Diet Coke, she stared at the picture. Elf Man was here, amongst them. With caution, she studied every person around her, in turn. The vast majority of visitors to the pub were in groups, chatting and laughing, enjoying the evening, like they were supposed to be. There were only two single people near them, the guy she spied coming in and an older woman, who was drinking a gin and tonic. “You’re around here somewhere,” Georgina whispered, watching people in the distance.

  There were a number of people walking past the pub along the promenade. Georgina scanned them for a lonely straggler. Shane stood and surveyed the area with her, while the others joined them. And when she lost all hope of finding Elf Man, her phone’s ringtone made her jump. “Shit!” she said, her hand shaking.

  A private Chatter message from the pom appeared on her screen. The photo showed them sat talking and laughing together, taken a few minutes earlier, before he sent the picture of the pub’s frontage. “The whole gang’s here,” she read out for them all, before setting the phone in front of them to observe the picture. “Isn’t that sweet!”

  “This is how you wanna play it, huh?” Shane shouted. “You fucking coward!”

  Georgina looked around her at all the curious drinkers watching him and muttering to themselves. She wanted to tell them to mind their business, except she had more important things to worry about. Elf Man was here, hiding. “Let’s go, guys,” she suggested, her voice small. “I don’t like this.”

  “Don’t be stupid, George.” Oliver puffed out his chest. “We can handle one guy, can’t we, boys? No way some pom’s chasing us out of our own pub.”

  “Oli’s right, babe, we’ll teach this fucker a lesson he won’t forget.” Shane stepped out from behind the table and stood in the centre of the walkway, still scanning for their elusive guest. “We’ll find you eventually, Elf Man.”

  Embarrassed for him, the pub’s visitors talking about him under hushed words, Georgina joined him in the aisle separating the two rows of tables. The phone in her hand went off again, attracting her friends’ attention. And when she opened Chatter, there was a video of Shane shouting, “This is how you want to play it, huh? You fucking coward!” She gasped, seeing that the film was recorded to their right.

  “Ah, forget about it.” Shane, checking who was to their right, behind the tables of guests, continued, “He’s playing with us.”

  “We’re giving him what he wants,” Georgina said, holding Shane’s hands. “If we go home, we’ll deny him all this.”

  “I’m with George.” Amelia held Kereama’s hand. “L
et’s all go back to yours and have some drinks, yeah?”

  Another photo came through, taken to their left, of them stood in the centre of the walkway. Georgina checked; there was no one over there. Then, she studied everyone around her, scanning the beer garden for Single Guy.

  13

  “You sneaky little bastard!” Shane said through gritted teeth. The Single Guy who’d moved tables turned his head and caught sight of him, then quickly turned it back. “George! That guy.” He made a move towards the pub. Up ahead, he saw the pub’s owner, Nathan, striding in his direction, finger on an earpiece, as if someone was telling him what was going on.

  “I thought we agreed to leave him.” Georgina walked with speed to keep up with Shane’s longer stride. “Elf Man’s younger, babe.”

  Shane reached Single Guy before Nathan arrived, and pushed him so hard, he nearly fell off the bench. “You! You sneaky piece of shit,” he hissed at the unsuspecting balding man in his early forties. “Stand up! We’re going for a little walk, you and me.” Single Guy looked up at him, scared. Shane kicked the wooden table, making it shake, the guy’s drink almost toppling over. “Did you hear me? I said, get up.”

  “Shane! What the hell?” Nathan was a tall thin bloke in his late thirties, with a stupid moustache and normally sunny disposition. “You can’t go intimidating my customers like this. Come on, calm down and tell me what this is all about.”

  Bending over, Shane grabbed Single Guy’s shirt collar and pulled him to his feet, the drinkers around him gasping and muttering. “Rack off, Nathan, this isn’t your concern, right?” Shane couldn’t stand Nathan. He turned his attention to Single Guy. “No, this is between us. You can’t go around scaring these ladies.”

  “Shane, leave him alone,” Georgina pleaded. “We don’t know it was him.”