by Billie Jones
Chapter 17
May Day
I walked into the plush real estate office that looked more like a show home than a place where any work was done. It seemed like a front for some kind of dodgy business. I highly doubt they just dabbled in real estate.
I sat on one of the leather lounges and waited for Mrs Dingleberry to finish on the phone. She was gesturing and screaming at someone in Arabic. She really was a multi-faceted woman. Apparently, she knew eighteen languages because she was some kind of former secret Russian spy but, if you ask me, I doubt that very much. Russian spies are always tall and much better looking. I started picturing a tall Russian spy-type guy who hid cameras down his pants and I was sent to find them. My mission if I chose to accept …
‘Msss Bevilaqua! Come to my desk.’ Jesus. Twice in one day.
‘Hi there, Mrs Dingleberry.’
‘I’ve no time for pleasantries. You have five days to vacate the premises.’
‘What! Why? I’ve paid my rent!’
‘Msss Bevilaqua, you haven’t paid your strata fees.’
‘Strata fees? But I don’t own the unit!’
‘You owe them as they were much higher than necessary because you kept calling that window cleaner back to your apartment every week, before he ran screaming from the building for reasons unknown. You owe over $2,000 on that alone.’
‘OK, fine, but you keep sending other invoices that have nothing to do with me! I don’t see why I have to pay for a gardener, a tree lopper and a reticulation specialist when I don’t even have a garden!’
‘Exactly! So why did you call the gardener, the tree lopper and the reticulation specialist so often?’ OK, I’ll admit, I did call them and then sit on the balcony and watch them work. Geez, who wouldn’t? They take their shirts off, they have those huge muscly arms …
‘Msss Bevilaqua, focus! You’re also behind on your rent.’
‘No, I’m not! It gets taken out of my mother’s account every fortnight.’
‘Msss Bevilaqua. You’ve haven’t authorised the bank to increase your payments. You’re still paying rent at the 2009 price. It has almost doubled since then. The owner was prepared to overlook it after the drama with your father, but now it’s time for you to move on.’
‘How can it double? You just want me out! How can I only have five days’ notice to move? Is that even legal?’ I asked.
‘I’ve been sending you eviction notices for the last month. They always end up back in our letterbox.’
‘Are you implying I had something to do with that?’
She sighed and said, ‘There were also reports of a fire in your apartment recently.’
‘A small hair-fire. Big deal.’ Kylie blabbed, I guess. I was going to kill her with her thinning shears.
‘There have been complaints about loud music, you ordering from the takeaway cafes situated in the building and then claiming you didn’t place the order and expecting the food for free. There have been complaints that you use the garbage disposal, that is meant for paper only, for all your wine, gin, vodka and whisky bottles. There have been complaints of you stalking some of the single men in this complex. There have been complaints …’
‘OK. OK. I get it. I was starting to feel stifled here anyway.’ I picked up my bag and the remote for the plasma and began a slow walk back to my soon to be ex-apartment.
The song ‘It’s Raining Men’ started playing on my mobile. Toffany.
‘Hey, Toff.’
‘It’s Timothy.’
‘Oh, right. Of course.’
‘Hey, I’m at your apartment. I used my old key. Where are you?’
‘Just leaving Dingleberry’s. I’ll be up soon.’
‘OK, Sweet Cheeks. Don’t be long.’
Ah. Timothy. What a nice surprise. I imagined a long evening ahead. He would top up my wine glass, massage my shoulders, kiss me all over, bake me a cake. He really was the whole package. I stopped in at the patisserie and ordered one of every delectable petit four they had. Being homeless had its good points too. I would save all that money in electricity and gas and whatever else those communists tried to slug me for. It was almost worth celebrating. I went to the local bottle shop and bought a bottle of champagne in honour of the future money I would save.
I walked back slowly, impressed with how grown up I had behaved today.
Really I should be a ball on the lounge rocking back and forth after all the embarrassing footage that had been splashed across all technology known to human kind. Instead, here I was strolling along, purchasing treats for the night ahead with one of the loves of my life. Perfect, really. I stopped at the florist and picked up a bunch of purple lilies. I loved their perfume and the size of them when they blossomed. A bonus to purchasing lilies is a guarantee Kylie won’t be dropping over, as she’s had a phobia of them ever since watching The Day of the Triffids. Some horrible person used to send her a bunch every weekend after that and film her reaction for YouTube (I swear it wasn’t me). It was pretty funny to watch though.
I caught the elevator back up to my apartment and kicked the door for Timothy to let me in because my hands were full. There was no answer. I figured he’d be in the shower, shaving. He had a thing about smooth legs. His. I juggled my purchases and opened the door. I could barely see through the flowers, but just made out the kimono walking around the lounge room.
I dropped everything, covered my eyes and screamed, terrified. Timothy came running from the bathroom, a small hand towel held against his nether regions.
‘What’s wrong, Sweet Cheeks?’ he asked.
‘The kimono! It’s alive!’ I said, with my hands still planted firmly over my retinas.
He laughed as he prised my hands away from my face. ‘No, it’s not. It’s only May Day.’
I looked around and saw an exotic Eurasian woman sitting at my dining room table. She had dark-brown almond-shaped eyes, full red lips and long movie star black curls like I used to have.
I let out a little sob for my lost hair. I was momentarily lost for words until I realised May Day was dressed in my kimono.
‘What the hell is she wearing that for?’ I yelled.
Timothy looked at me, his face a picture of innocence. ‘She spilt red wine over her dress, so she put the kimono on while I took her dress down to Mai Ling to dry clean.’ Ah, the old ‘spill the drink on the clothes’ routine. How transparent.
I noticed May Day swallowing frantically while this little exchange was happening. Bobbing up and down at each gulp was a little Adam’s apple. Hmmm, May Day. Made sense.
I narrowed my eyes at Timothy and said, ‘And you just happened to be naked and covered with a hand towel because …?’
‘I’ve just finished a six-hour shift at the cafe and I could feel stubble on my legs.’ May Day was busy looking at the floor. I wondered why she was here drinking red wine in the first place. ‘Did you have a reason to visit, May Day?’ I asked.
‘She had something she wanted to get off her chest,’ Timothy said. And what a chest. It looked like this particular drag queen had made the change.
May Day looked at Timothy and said, ‘I, ah, wanted to speak to you in private.’ High-pitched girlie voice. Yep, definitely made the change.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘Samantha knows everything there is to know about me. You can speak in front of her.’ May Day looked at me uncertainly and tightened the kimono around her narrow waist.
‘OK. Umm, well. It’s just I overheard you saying that you and Samantha were back together and I wanted to let you know, um, that I thought maybe, um …’ She looked at Timothy with such desire it was clear to me what was happening. Poor old Tim had no idea. He was looking at her with a vacant expression. For someone so good-looking, he was somewhat dense.
May Day looked over at me, and then back to Tim, took a deep breath and continued, ‘I, well, I thought after I had my last surgery …’ she looked at the ground and fumbled with the thin belt of the kimono.
‘May D
ay, spit it out,’ Tim said, getting frustrated at his confusion. ‘What did you think?’
‘That, that well, maybe we’d end up together. I thought when I undressed before I made my intentions clear?’
See, I told you. It was as played out as Kylie Minogue’s English accent.
Timothy looked at me apologetically. He seemed crestfallen. ‘Oh, May Day. I’m so sorry. I just think of you as one of the guys. Like a member of the same club. Like a brother. Like a …’
‘I get it,’ May Day said, as she stood in all her six-foot glory. Geez, she was tall. ‘Never mind, I’ll be leaving.’ Her voice lost its saccharine timbre and reverted back to a manly boom. ‘Well done, Samantha. Seems none of the ugly footage of you has done any harm. You still have two of the best guys in town eating out of your hand.’
I must say, she said that in a very catty way.
‘Two guys?’ asked Timothy.
I shrugged my shoulders at him, as if to say ‘who knows?’ and threw an empty dry-cleaning bag at her. ‘You can wear that downstairs to pick up your dress.’ She dropped the kimono and stood naked with just her huge white heels on. I closed my eyes before any more damage could be done to my psyche. I’d seen enough nakedness for one day. She wrapped the dry-cleaning bag around her lithe frame and stormed out of the apartment, not before she stomped on the box of petit fours. Now that was just unreasonable. Her subservient nature was obviously a farce. Jesus, talk about huffy.
‘Wow, you sure know how to pick them, Timothy. What the hell did you do to make her think you were interested?’
‘Nothing! She’s been at the cafe for weeks now asking about you. I thought she liked you!’
She probably did. I’m pretty sure she winked at me as she flounced out. I picked up the flowers, the champagne and the squashed box of pastries.
‘Why were you seeing the Dingle?’
‘Oh, I had a few issues with the apartment. I’ve decided to vacate in five days.’
‘What! Why? Where will you live?’
Good question. ‘They kept trying to put the rent up. And charging me for a gardener when I don’t even have a garden! I don’t know where I’ll go. Maybe JJ has room in his new apartment.’
Tim looked dejected. ‘Why don’t you live with me instead?’
JJ owned a brand-new penthouse apartment in South Perth that overlooked the city, while Timothy had a two-storey townhouse overlooking Cottesloe beach. Tough choice. Time-share?
‘Of course. I’ll definitely consider it.’ I didn’t want him to think we were back together just like that after all he’d put me through. I am, by nature, kind, accepting and forgiving, not one of those massively long grudge-holders like Kylie, but some things are better left unsaid. The less he knew the better. Relationships were all about the balance of power.
Picking up the kimono, I surmised it couldn’t be coincidence I’d just been evicted and one of the loves of my life was under siege. Danger lurked at every turn. I’d have to get rid of the kimono.
Chapter 18
Truth Serum
I walked over to the kimono and picked it up. That no-good drag queen had some balls throwing it down like that. I looked at it. Suddenly it had lost its unique glow, the colours seemed to bleed into each other, the paper-thin silk looked worn instead of delicate. I simply couldn’t have it near me any longer.
‘I’m going to list this on eBay,’ I said.
‘Really? What a relief, Sam! Your Mum and I have been so worried, but she told me not to mention it because I’ll end up on your suspect list …’
‘You’re already on the list, Tim. You and Toff.’
‘I see.’ He scratched his hairless chin. ‘In that case, I think it’s a good idea you get rid of it, and hopefully this whole curse shemozzle will be over.’
‘I’m not sure that selling the kimono will stop the curse. It’s just that it smells like envy now. It’s very off-putting.’
Timothy hung his head, knowing full well whatever he said would be taken the wrong way, so he did the right thing and kept his mouth shut. He wandered into the kitchenette and hunted through the sink for some wine glasses. He was walking around naked as he’d tossed the hand towel aside after May Day had left. I noticed he had an all-over natural-looking tan. Sans tan lines.Wow, that guy knew exactly what hot was. He walked back with two different sized wine glasses and I know this for sure because I was trying really hard to keep my eyes above his nether regions.
‘Do you want me to crack open the champers, Sweet Cheeks?’
‘Ah. Yes.’ A perfectly proportioned, full-body-tanned, former male model with healthy glossy hair and smooth skin walking around naked was kind of turning my brain to mush. I had to be very careful the balance of power didn’t shift in these unforeseen circumstances.
Timothy walked back with two full wine glasses and sat next to me on the lounge. With the weight of both of us, we sank and rolled into each other. I was feeling mightily overdressed at this point.
‘So, I was thinking if you were serious about getting back together, we could sell up and go travelling for a while. I know you’ve always wanted to go to Paris,’ he said.
That’s because JJ was living there. ‘Really? Sell up? You’d leave the café just like that? What will we do for money?’ I mean, I know the cafe was worth a fair bit, but I wasn’t prepared to travel on a budget or anything like that. Backpacker hostels were full of people who called swimming in the ocean a shower and a can of baked beans a gourmet dinner. It just wasn’t me. Packing light didn’t come naturally, either. People who stopped wearing make-up because they were on holiday just astounded me. Shouldn’t you wear extra because you have more time to apply it?
‘Well, I figured we’d sell the cafe and rent out the townhouse. I actually made a few good investments in the last year or so. I was thinking of selling them and seeing a bit of the world.’
‘Investing? How did you get into that?’
‘Through your mum, actually.’
Jesus. The plot thickens. ‘How would my Mum know anything about investing?’
‘She saw it in a vision. Then she astral-travelled to me and told me to buy as many shares as I could in the local brothel that was becoming a public company. The stocks soared and the CEO decided to franchise. Baby cake Bordello’s – you might have heard of them?’
‘No. Never had much reason to visit a bordello. Why did Mum choose you?’
‘She reckons I was the only one with an open mind and enough cash.’
‘Looks like she’s gathering followers and some liquid investments for that cult she’s been talking about for ages.’
Tim’s eyes widened like he’d just seen Charles Manson.
‘What cult?’ Really, he was so easy to bamboozle sometimes.
‘Oh, she doesn’t use the word cult. Nature retreat, she calls it. You know all that eating mung beans and chanting using her high priestess name Seriah-lieh. Need a lot of funds for those places. Funds, and protection from the police.’
Tim looked momentarily worried until he remembered who he was talking about. ‘Your mum would never do anything illegal. She’s still reeling over your dad.’
‘Maybe he taught her everything she knows!’ I said.
Tim shook his head, almost getting offended on behalf of my crazy mother. Timothy was completely different to Toffany. It seemed that once he donned that long blonde wig and put chicken fillets into his push-up bra he became Toff the tough-talking drag queen with an attitude problem. Timothy was the opposite: a sensitive, funny, caring beach bum with a killer body and a smile to die for.
‘So, will you come to Paris with me?’ he asked.
‘Maybe. I do have my career to think of.’ I was planning to sort myself out in that department very soon. Next week or the week after. Or the week after that. Really depends on the house situation. I want to commit to the job I accept, you know. Not be half-arsed when I start. Actually, a year or two travelling might be just the thing I need. The only obstacle w
as JJ. The thought of leaving him made me feel physically sick.
I loved him. Timothy wasn’t Toffany, though, so I wondered whether Timothy would remember his illicit affair with JJ? It wasn’t actually Tim, it was Toff. I get confused.
‘If I asked you a question, would you give me an honest answer?’ he asked. Geez, could that be any broader? The likelihood of honesty was slim to none.
‘Of course,’ I said.
Tim clasped my hand and locked his beautiful blue eyes onto mine. Oh, no. I knew I was dangerously close to losing my hold over him as I felt myself melt. I hope he didn’t ask me to kill anyone or vote Liberal because I’d do whatever he said at this point. ‘Do you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you love JJ?’
‘Yes.’ Oh God, it just slipped out. It was like he’d spiked my drink with truth serum.
‘Do you love him more than me?’
‘No.’
‘If I asked you to leave him, would you?’
‘No.’
‘OK. That’s settled then. Maybe we need to ask JJ if he wants to travel the world. We’re going to make a good-looking trio.’
Usually I’d be excited that someone had offered to take me travelling around the world with no expense spared and agreed to take my other boyfriend along for the ride, but something was niggling at me. Unfinished business. The curse. I needed to find out who had it in for me and, I don’t know, resolve it, like an adult or something.
I started to feel hot, as in temperature-wise. Honestly. That’s why I took my clothes off. It wasn’t a premeditated sex thing, if that’s what you’re thinking. Timothy looked at me in surprise and kissed me. I was a little alarmed when the kiss still felt like the kiss of a gay man, but who was I to argue? The kiss of a gay man is the best kiss there is. Our hands were a confusion. Rapidly caressing, feeling the way all over each other. His skin felt so soft and supple I wanted to taste it. We kicked the junk off the end of the lounge and lay side by side. He pulled me closer to him and I could feel his erection against my belly. That was a good sign. I reached for it, almost desperate after the sex drought I’d been through …