by Bree Darcy
Andy jerked his thumb at the guy. “At least we got another few hours to ourselves.”
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” the driver panted. “We need to get back. Your friend Gerry has been rushed to hospital.”
Andy sprinted towards the carpark, with me and the driver trying to keep up. “Is he going to be okay?” I puffed to the driver.
“They say it was a drug overdose. That was all I was told.”
It was a tense drive back to London, with Andy berating himself for not checking on Gerry in person.
“What’s he likely to have taken?” I asked.
“Coke probably. Or ecstasy. Speed. Poppers. Let’s face it, he could have taken anything.”
I felt sick to the stomach, watching the motorway flash by wasn’t helping. I slid down a window to get some air but Andy leant over me to put it back up again. “That flapping noise is annoying me,” he growled.
I willed myself to stop the tears welling in my eyes. I needed to put on a brave face for Andy. He had lost enough people in his life … please don’t let him lose Gerry too.
“Shit, if only you hadn’t come by last night. Then I would have hung around this morning and gone woken Gerry up.”
Did he blame me for making us run away from the driver too?
“Andy, it’s not your fault or mine. Gerry’s a grown man and -”.
“Look I don’t want to talk right now,” Andy snapped. “I just want to get to the hospital and make sure he’s okay. Why the fuck did I leave him alone?” He stared out the window. The distance between us grew the further we got from Brighton.
As we neared the inner city, Andy turned to me. “It’s best if you don’t come with me. There might be reporters hanging around.”
He had a point so we arranged for the driver to drop me off near the next station.
“Let me know what happens with Gerry, please. And if you need me, ring.” I scribbled my contact details on a piece of paper and left it on the car seat next to Andy. Along with my purple unicorn.
I read about the incident in The Sun the next morning. Gerry had been found slumped in the bathroom around lunchtime by the hotel’s cleaning staff. There was no mention of his Charlie’s Angels so presumably they were long gone. Danger Game had to postpone their UK and Ireland concerts but Gerry recovered enough to complete the rest of their European tour.
The Paris show came and went and I never heard from Andy. It was like our time together never happened.
The next time Danger Game were in England, I stayed at home with my husband and son. And I never heard from Andy again, until that letter arrived in my in-tray on Melbourne Cup day.
PART TWO
Now: Five months later
CHAPTER 1
“Ah, this is the life.” Andy floated across the pool on a red lilo. “I told you everything would work out if you stuck with me, babe.”
I gazed across the canyon, enjoying the heat on my skin. It was like being back at Chad’s place in Palm Springs. My daydreaming was interrupted by a babble of voices and the slam of car doors.
“Shit, the boss is home.” Andy hauled himself out of the pool and pulled on his T-shirt. Grabbing a pool scooper, he pointed out where I could slip out the side gate. “I’ll meet you at the car when I’m done cleaning the pool. Got a hundred bucks due, so I’ll take you for a real nice meal at Denny’s.” He winked at me.
The scene changed to Andy sitting at a pull-down table in a caravan while I re-attached the peeling tulip wallpaper with sticky tape.
“Someone get me a beer,” Andy bellowed. A snotty-nosed toddler wearing only a nappy waddled to a bar fridge filled with beer and pulled out a can. “And Ricky Joe, I know exactly how many beers there are, so don’t go thinking you can sneak any.”
A pre-teen boy with matted hair scowled in the corner, as a mass of tittering girls piled into the caravan. Ciara looked as if she was on her way to a gypsy wedding, dolled up in an aqua mini skirt and fluorescent yellow bra top. “Mum,” she whined. “You’ve got to tell Tanika, Tayesha and Taleela to stay out of my make-up.”
“Girls, girls, quit your bickering,” Andy said. “I don’t want the TV crew to see youse acting out. They’re starting the shoot any minute now.” He belched loudly.
“Why are the cameras here, again?” I asked, pushing my lank, grey-streaked hair out of my eyes.
“We’re filming Living in the Danger Zone, remember hon. It’s about our poverty-stricken family living in a trailer park and how in an alternative universe I am a mega-wealthy rock star. You don’t need to be part of that other filming though, they’ve cast me another wife for that. Bit of a looker too.” He winked at Ricky Joe.
“And we’ve got how many kids?” I counted all the faces – sixteen in all.
“Only thirteen, sweet cheeks. And our three grandbubbies of course. Fancy us being grandparents before we’re forty!”
“Are you all right, Mum?” Ryan came over to hold my hand. “You seem a bit dazed.”
“Mum, Mum.” I opened my eyes to find Ryan tapping my hand and waving my phone in my face. “It rang a couple of times, so I thought I’d better get it in case it was an emergency. It’s AJ.” And with that my son discreetly backed out of the bedroom.
“Andy?” I sat up quickly and checked the alarm clock. Quarter past nine. Curtis would be halfway through the Bay Run by now.
“Sorry, didn’t realise it was early for you. You know I’m no good at working out the timezones.”
“I slept in – I was having a weird dream, it was actually about-”
Andy cut in, his voice thick with emotion. “I know you said not to contact you anymore but I needed to speak to someone …”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Chandler. He’s gone. They couldn’t save him this time.”
“Oh, Andy. I’m so sorry.”
All I got down the line was some shuddering breaths.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.
“He had a massive heart attack at his desk. He’d been working so damn hard – he even cut a deal yesterday for us to do the next Eternal Heart soundtrack. I should have stopped him worrying about stuff like that.”
From what I’d heard, no one had a hope of stopping Chandler working on the business he loved so much.
“How’s Siena?”
“She’s in with him now, with Michael, saying their goodbyes. I should be in there with her but I can’t handle it. I’m hiding out, out the front about to have a smoke,” he admitted. “Had to bum a ciggie off someone, and my hand is shaking so bad I can’t light it.”
We chatted for twenty more minutes, Andy seemed keen to reminisce about Chandler, and I just let him talk. I also, rather inappropriately considering the body was not even cold, wondered whether this meant Andy’s divorce would be back on.
Then again, perhaps not.
“Do you know the last thing he said to me? He was up at his noticeboard, pinning tacks on all the places we’d play on the next leg of the tour. And he looked me right in the eye and said ‘Make sure you do the right thing by my daughter’. Then he repeated it three times. It was like he knew he wouldn’t be around much longer. Do you reckon that’s crazy?” An ambulance siren pierced the air. “Anyway, thanks for listening. I’m sorry I had to bother you. I’d better go.”
“Andy, forget what I said that time. Call me whenever you like.”
But he’d already hung up.
* * *
I was checking my newsfeed for reports about Chandler’s death when Nikki rang.
“Have I ever told you my boyfriend is the most perfect guy on the planet?” she gloated.
“Only daily.”
Nikki’s romance was the one good thing to emerge from that disastrous reunion night five months ago. As she regaled me now with details about their kayaking trip down the Avon River, I tuned out and instead remembered back to the day after the reunion …
Curtis was long gone by the time I dragged myself out of be
d, feeling rather sorry for myself. For a moment I feared he’d left me until Mum reminded me he was at the hardware store buying a new front door lock for her. She didn’t comment on my bleary, red-rimmed eyes, simply passed me a cup of super-strength coffee.
We had made plans to meet Nikki, Dawn, Corey and their two youngest at the South Perth foreshore that afternoon. While the men took the kids to watch a kite-flying display, us girls made a beeline for the cafe strip across the road.
Naturally the hot topic of conversation now we were alone was what had happened in the aftermath of Dan’s revelation. Nikki, though, was not her usual inquisitive self, instead simply listening with a dreamy expression on her face.
I poked her. “So how’d the night finish up for you?”
“On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it a 1001.” And with a pleased-as-punch grin she recounted how she’d hooked up with one of our former classmates, Dane.
“I don’t remember a Dane at school.” The cogs were whirling in Dawn’s brain but nothing registered.
Nikki showed us a photo she’d snapped on her phone. “That was because he was called Dwayne back then. He changed his name when he changed his life.”
“Dweeby Dwayne?” I nearly choked on a hazelnut from my sticky bun. “The boy who used to read computer manuals at lunchtime?”
Nikki bristled at this reminder but if memory served me correctly, she’d once been a ringleader in the theft of Dwayne’s stripy boxer shorts from the gym changerooms. They’d been hoisted halfmast on the flagpole, where they flapped in the wind for two weeks until the maintenance man finally spotted them and took them down.
“Lifting all those heavy textbooks has certainly done wonders for his physique,” Dawn said, admiring the photo.
“And I bet you’re planning to see his undies at halfmast all the time now,” I giggled.
“He actually goes commando,” Nikki admitted, with a blush. “Says he finds it too restrictive, likes to be free and easy.”
Dane had been in engineering but several years ago had an epiphany when a colleague introduced him to a brand of nutritional supplements. Now the leading distributor for the Australasian market, he had a high six-figure income, a deep-purple Porsche and a role as a motivational speaker at the company’s conferences around the world.
“So Niks, you planning on seeing the great Dane again?” I asked.
“He’s picking me up in twenty minutes.” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Girls, I think this might be the one.”
After Nikki tore off in Dane’s sports car, Dawn revealed she had finally worked up the courage to confront her husband about what Stacey claimed he did that football trophy night. Corey was ashamed to admit that he had initially responded to Stacey’s seduction but he had well and truly drawn the line before he broke any chastity vow. Dawn’s relief was tangible.
“See, I told you, you were stressing about nothing. I knew Corey would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Maybe but he also confessed to kissing someone else from school, someone with close ties to us in fact.”
“No! Who?” I racked my brain. It certainly wasn’t me. Not Nikki, surely?
Dawn grinned. “He lost a bet and had to kiss Dweeby Dwayne. So think how uncomfortable Corey will be, if we ever go out with Nikki and her new man, especially since we are now fully aware he’s sitting there with nothing on under his trousers.”
Our peals of laughter drew looks from everyone in our vicinity. Then Dawn had to excuse herself to find a toilet – her pelvic floor muscles were not what they used to be.
Once Dawn’s family left too, we headed towards the bridge as the afternoon breeze picked up; Ciara and Ryan riding a hired pedal car, Curtis and I strolling behind in silence.
Dan’s comment about how little I had changed when it came to Andy was replaying in my head. I hated admitting it but Dan was right, it was wrong sneaking around behind my husband’s back. I vowed there and then to put Andy right back where he belonged – in the past. Just as I was wondering how to make it up to Curtis, he spoke up.
“Kellie, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for the way I reacted, accusing you of cheating with your old boyfriend …”
I stepped on to the grass as a couple of cyclists shot past at speed. “It’s me who should be apologising to you. That was an awful way for you to find out -”.
“When that guy was going on about how you cheated on him, it made me think the worst. Saying that about Ryan not being my son, that was horrible of me.”
I tried to speak but Curtis shushed me. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. Nikki swears nothing’s happened between you and that Dangerfield fellow. And she’d be the one to know, you tell your best friend everything. She also asked after my chafing rash – thanks for sharing that with her. She suggested Vaseline, said she saw it on an episode of How I Met Your Mother.”
Curtis took an exaggerated step to avoid a pile of dog poop. “I was so angry, wondering why you never told me. But then I realised it wasn’t like you lied to me, because I’ve never asked you about your past relationships. And you’ve never asked me about mine, which is why I’ve never had to explain about Felicity.” Curtis looked over at me. “To be honest I don’t want to hear anything about him, it’s bad enough I’ll be picturing you together every time I hear one of his crappy songs on the radio.” He smiled ruefully. “But looking at things logically, it was stupid of me to get so worked up about a dumb teenage crush that fizzled out years ago. As if you’d be interested in someone like him now!”
I bit my lip. “But you and Felicity though, it’s more than having to listen to a song on the radio, she’s always going to be a part of our family. I’d like to know what happened between you.”
Curtis jumped on to the limestone wall separating the path from the river and held his hand out to me. “When I first found out she was seeing my brother, it hurt like crazy. But in a way I wasn’t upset about losing her. It was more that Ewan had taken something away from me, that he’d won yet again. Now I realise things happen for a reason. If Felicity hadn’t broken up with me, I wouldn’t have chatted up the pretty girl sitting next to me at the movies.” Curtis jumped off the wall and this time his smile reached his eyes. “So when and why did you break up?”
“I was eighteen. He cheated on me and the result was his oldest daughter.”
“Ouch! That’s harsh. Not an amicable ending then.” He held out his arms to me. “So are we good?”
I lifted on to my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his. Moments late Ciara and Ryan pulled up on their pedal car.
“Eewww. Please, people your age shouldn’t, like, kiss in public. It’s disgusting,” Ciara said.
“Right, hop in the back, kids,” Curtis said. “Let’s test how quick this thing can go.”
And as we pedalled as fast as our legs would take us, I thanked my lucky stars that Curtis had been so understanding. But I had learnt my lesson, nothing was worth putting my family at risk.
The first chance I got, I texted Andy: Some family stuff has come up. It’s best if you don’t contact me from now on. All the best. And then I deleted his number from my phone.
And after that day, Curtis never mentioned Andy again.
Mind you he did have a lot of other things on his mind. With speculation mounting that his company faced a restructure, Curtis was paranoid his head was on the block. He worked harder than ever, desperate to show his department was too profitable to lose. He had his division’s annual meeting with head office next month and was sure that was when he’d find out their fate.
I tried reassuring him that we would manage – no matter what. “You’ve always felt trapped in that sales role. Maybe this will allow you to go back into research. I always fancied you in a white lab coat.” I winked at him. “We can sell up and buy somewhere cheaper.”
“As if I would ever give my father the satisfaction,” he said, before shutting himself away in his study for the night.
I should have l
earnt years ago that Curtis would never stop trying to impress his parents.
CHAPTER 2
Zara, back from a management pow-wow on Hamilton Island, was ranting about us missing a story late on Friday about an up-and-coming actor being escorted off a plane for “inappropriate behaviour”. The weekend papers splashed big on passengers describing his drunken behaviour in which he propositioned several flight attendants and urinated into a cup because he didn’t like the sucking noise when you flushed the toilet. According to one witness, he also had to be restrained from stripping off his clothes because he always slept naked.
As Zara tore strips off the staff member on duty at the time, Adele tore in, flustered at running so late. “Monster traffic jam on the M4,” she panted.
“Ahoy matey.” Lenny removed himself from her chair.
Adele slung her handbag under the desk. “What’s with the bandana and long hair?” she asked.
“Shiver me timbers, don’t you know it’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day,” Lenny explained.
“You weren’t supposed to recognise Lenny,” I stage-whispered to Adele. “You were meant to think Johnny Depp’s paying us a visit dressed as Captain Sparrow.”
Adele slapped her thigh in feigned mirth.
“Give over ya scurvy wenches,” Lenny said. “Aaarrrr! Got me a case of the thirsts. Gonna get meself a bottle o’ rum.” And with that Lenny headed towards the break area, his massive hoop earring clanking against his jaw.
But he hadn’t got that far before Zara’s screech reverberated across the newsroom. “Lenny, I’ve got a parrot in my office, asking me to show my tits. Get it out of here or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
* * *
It was standing room only at Chandler Ellement’s funeral. I know this because E! News told me. It was attended by a who’s who of the music industry, with guests ranging from Simon Cowell and Ryan Seacrest to Jared Leto and Richie Sambora.
The TV footage showed a grief-stricken Siena emerging from the majestic old church in Pasadena, clutching her husband’s arm. She was dressed in a retro black dress with a square neckline that, in my honest opinion, showed far too much cleavage for such a sombre occasion. Her curled bob was draped with a black lace veil and her eyes were hidden behind oversized sunglasses.