by Derek Hansen
‘No. She seems pretty genuine to me.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, I’m sure.’ Billy began rolling another cigarette.
‘I hear she’s been running her business — sorry, my business — from here. Did she tell you that?’
‘Yeah, she did.’
‘I also hear that she has regular meetings with her accountant in a motel somewhere.’
‘Actually it’s a Country Club,’ said Billy evenly. He felt Linda tense alongside him. She hadn’t mentioned the Country Club to him and he hadn’t mentioned his conversation with Jimmy.
‘A Country Club? Of course. Nothing but the best for my little schoolteacher. I’m pleased for your sake that Linda has been so forthcoming. Did she tell you her accountant was also her lover?’ Grant caught the quick intake of breath, not just from Linda but also from Billy. Yes! He was starting to really enjoy himself. ‘Oops! Am I right in thinking she didn’t tell you he was her lover? Why would that be? Never mind, Billy, I only just found out myself. Apparently shares in my company weren’t the only inducement she offered around. Right, Linda? Right, Linda!’
‘Right.’
‘Right. Good, we’ve got that cleared up. I should tell you, Billy, just so you know who you can trust around here, that the accountant is now married with a kid. Happily married, apparently. You can make up your own mind whether anything’s still going on between them. But don’t you think she should’ve told you? Been entirely forthcoming?’ Grant ripped the tab off his second beer.
‘You know, I should have realised what a calculating bitch she is right from the start. I’d hardly met her when she drops her almost-fiancé and all but giftwraps her pussy and presents it to me on a plate. Right in front of everyone, including the poor pathetic bastard she’d just abandoned. I was young and full of myself, and naive enough to think it was all down to my good looks and charm, but Linda … well, she had a much clearer grasp of the situation. My charm and good looks didn’t enter into it, did they, Linda? It wasn’t who I was that mattered but what I was. And what was I? I was her ticket to freedom, Billy, her ticket out of triple-fronted brick veneer land, meat and two veg suburbia, her ticket to the bright lights and the high life. I was the pathway to her ambitions. Well, hardly a pathway, more a doormat really.
‘Again, I should’ve guessed what she was all about when we started going out. She was just a westie schoolteacher. She knew nothing. Nothing! The first time I took her to a restaurant she didn’t recognise a single dish on the menu. Had no idea what a risotto was or a salsa. No idea at all. But a month later, guess what? She’s an expert. You name the restaurant, she could name the chef and his signature dish. She was an art teacher and knew all about art history but hadn’t a clue which contemporary artists were hot and which weren’t. A month later she’s throwing their names around like confetti and even getting me to invest in them. I could hardly keep up.’ Grant took another swallow of beer. ‘Christ, beer gets warm quickly out here.
‘In the interests of fairness, Billy, I have to tell you Linda was not ungrateful. She could not find enough ways to thank me. And she was great company. She was excited by everything we did and her excitement was infectious. She made me want to take her to different places, show her new things, have new experiences. She made me appreciate what a fabulous lifestyle I had. When she asked if she could move in with me, well, it kind of seemed a natural progression. Big mistake. Give the bitch an inch, Billy, and she takes a mile.
‘Next thing I knew she wanted to give up teaching and become a film producer. She’d already moved into my apartment, now she wanted to move into my office. Why not, I thought. One of the prerequisites for working in film is boundless energy and she had energy to burn. She took to the business like a duck to water, Billy, and I was proud of her. I taught her everything I knew. I even made her my producer. How about that? But you’ve got to stop and think here, Billy. I mean, what more could a little westie schoolteacher want? She had a good job, made good money and lived a life only a few privileged people like me could afford. What more could she want? It turned out she wanted a lot more, Billy, a whole lot more. The bitch wanted everything I had.
‘You know what a spreadsheet is, Billy? It’s the sheet girls like Linda spread ’em on. That’s how they get to the top in the film business. They marry the boss. She proposed, I accepted and we got married. Do you know why I married her? I’ll tell you. Yes, she was gorgeous. Still is, don’t you think? She said she loved me and I had no reason to doubt her. She was fun to be with. She was good to work with and we had lots to talk about. There was never a dull moment. But you know something? I didn’t marry her for any of those reasons. They’re reasons to live with someone, not necessarily marry them. No, I married Linda, Billy, because I was very aware of where she’d come from and who she really was. I thought I was marrying a schoolteacher, a good old-fashioned girl with good old-fashioned values, someone from the heartland of Australia. I wanted a wife who would be a good, diligent, loving mother to my kids, someone who’d keep the house neat and tidy and my clothes clean and pressed. In short, Billy, I wanted a good old-fashioned wife. Tell me, was that such a bad thing to want?’
‘I imagine there are a lot of men who think that way.’
‘You are so right, Billy. There are lots of good-looking women around who give you a great time in bed but they’re not necessarily the ones you want for your wife. I thought I’d made the right choice with Linda.
‘I thought she’d give up work and become a housewife once she got pregnant, but no. She kept on as my producer until her belly grew so big she could no longer travel. What did she do then? Go home and make sure she was eating the right food and doing the right exercises so we’d have a bonny bouncing baby? No way. She made herself office manager. I was a bit busy, Billy, otherwise I would’ve put a stop to it right there. Linda didn’t need to work. We didn’t need money. But what does she do? She has the baby and next thing I know she’s bringing her into the office, breastfeeding her while she’s working and changing her nappies during meetings with clients. Does that sound right to you, Billy? Does that sound like the actions of a caring mother? As soon as the kid was old enough she was shunted off to kindy. Then to school. The poor kid’s feet didn’t touch the ground. I have to tell you, Billy, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for the mother of my children.
‘We started arguing about it. I thought Linda should quit work, have another child and become a fulltime mother, but she wouldn’t have a bar of it. She was violently opposed to the idea and I mean violently. She went off like a cheap alarm clock every time I mentioned it. It took me a while to realise that she hadn’t even wanted the first child. Why? Because it interfered with her ambition, Billy. It interfered with her precious plans. You know, a lot of commercials Linda worked on won awards, but I tell you there’s one award she’d never win in a million years. She’d never win Mother of the Year. Believe me, Billy, I don’t think she’d win a single vote.
‘I don’t know what your plans are, but I hope you weren’t thinking of marrying her. Bad move. It’s a funny thing but, for some reason, women change when you marry them. It doesn’t matter how much fun they are to start with, they soon get tiresome. No matter how much fun they were in bed, sex becomes an imposition. And you know what the worst thing is, they start telling you how to live your life. That’s what happened to me. She never let up and the problem was, there was no escaping her. I had to put up with her at home and in the office. So I fired her, Billy. Got her out of the office. I mean, what’s a man supposed to do? It was not what she wanted, God knows, but it was the only way I could keep my sanity.’
‘That so?’
‘You doubting me, Billy?’
‘My understanding is that there was another woman involved.’
‘Billy, please, there’s always another woman involved. Man is not monogamous, especially when what he’s getting at home is monotonous. The wise man gets his life in order, Billy, makes sure
each thing is in its place. Don’t think I’m not loyal, because I am. Linda was becoming a total pain in the arse but all I did was fire her. I didn’t divorce her or abandon her. She was my wife, for heaven’s sake, the mother of my child. I had responsibilities. I made sure she had a nice home, a nice car and plenty of money to indulge herself. We went out together, took holidays together and had good times together. I even threw my leg over as duty required. Yes, there was another woman, Billy, but I felt I was entitled to that. She was a tiger between the sheets, a real tiger. I worked hard and deserved a little R & R.’
‘Maybe you should’ve divorced Linda and married her.’
‘Men like me don’t marry girls like her, Billy. Sharna — her name was Sharna, in case you didn’t know — well, she had that wrong-side-of-the-tracks quality about her. Know what I mean? Great head, great body but lacking a bit in the breeding department. Voice a little too harsh, manners a little too coarse, a tad loud, that sort of thing. I really looked after Linda, Billy, I really did. Everything could’ve been so fine. I’d finally got her to understand her place in my life and I thought Sharna understood hers. But would you believe it, Sharna had ambitions too. It doesn’t matter what you do, Billy, how reasonable you try to be, women always want more. They always want what they can’t have.’
‘You got Sharna pregnant.’
‘Correction, Billy. Sharna got Sharna pregnant. She thought if she got pregnant I’d piss off Linda and marry her. I’m loyal, Billy, I told you that. Marrying Sharna was never an option.’
‘So you lost your temper and killed her.’
‘Ah, now we’re getting to the crunch. You see, Billy, this is the bit where everybody gets it wrong. I have to admit I wasn’t overjoyed to learn she was pregnant, but that sort of thing happens and it wasn’t something I couldn’t deal with. I mean, I had three choices, right? I could divorce Linda and marry Sharna, which was never going to happen. Take care of Sharna and the kid financially, which I was prepared to do. Or pay for an abortion, which, to be perfectly frank, was the option I favoured. I said as much but that wasn’t what Sharna wanted to hear. I told you Sharna was a tiger in bed — well, sometimes she was a tiger out of it as well. As soon as I mentioned abortion she went off her brain. When I tell you she flew at me, believe me, that’s what she did. Un-fucking-real. She’d had a few goes at me before, to be honest, and I can’t tell you how many times she’d sunk her knee into my nuts. But this time, Christ Almighty, she lost it completely. She would’ve scratched my eyes out if I hadn’t pushed her away. I didn’t even push her particularly hard. We had scatter rugs on a polished floor, Billy. Scatter rugs. She slipped as much as anything. Anyway, she fell and the edge of the table pretty much did the rest. I didn’t kill her, Billy. I didn’t even harm her. What happened to her was an accident and an accident of her own making. She chose to get pregnant. She chose to attack me. If you knew Sharna you’d have no trouble understanding that.’
‘I understand she had a few other bruises as well. I suppose she made a habit of slipping.’
‘Here we go again. I wonder who told you that? I admit there were times when Sharna lost her temper and things got a little out of hand. But I never hurt her intentionally.’
‘No, you just hurt her accidentally. Regularly, but accidentally.’
‘Sarcasm, Billy? It doesn’t do you justice, though I must confess justice has become a devalued concept. Tell me, Billy, did Linda ever tell you about the time Sharna and I were shooting a Colgate commercial? We’d spent a day building a set for a bathroom. We’d even had tilers laying tiles and plumbers rigging up taps that worked. Sharna came charging out of the make-up room, still talking to the talent and not looking where she was going. She hit the set so hard she demolished it. She knocked the whole damn thing down. Walls, sinks, tiles, taps. We had to pull her out of the wreckage and take her to Emergency to get patched up. She cost me a whole day’s shoot, but that was Sharna. Then there was the time she bought a stone Buddha in Thailand that had been pilfered from Angkor Wat. She didn’t want to risk checking it in with her baggage so she stuffed it in her flight bag and stowed it in the overhead locker. I mean, write your own ending here. Sharna was a disaster area, an accident waiting to happen. And sure enough it did. The plane hit an air pocket, the locker flew open, Buddha popped out and head-butted Sharna. Buddha won on a TKO. Billy, there are a hundred Sharna stories.
‘One time we went to a wedding. Sharna decided to take a photo of the bride and groom cutting the wedding cake. She rushed to get a close-up, tripped over the cable to the lights the official photographer was using and crashed into the table. The table collapsed at one end and the cake went down like the Titanic. It was amazing to see and fortunately somebody captured it on home video. The cake slid down the length of the table as gracefully as you like and the camera tracked with it. That was the bit I liked. The guy with the camera could’ve saved the cake but instead he filmed it. You have to admire his professionalism. But once again we had to dig Sharna out of the debris, this time with a split lip and a sprained wrist. Unfortunately, the cameraman missed that.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying here, Billy? Sharna was accident-prone. She was a standing joke, a disaster area. There was never a time when she wasn’t carrying bruises from one misadventure or another.’
‘I take it Linda was also accident-prone?’
‘Now I’m glad you brought that up, Billy. Obviously Linda’s told you how I used to beat her up, use her as my punching bag, and doubtless you believed her. Why not? Everyone else did. And do you know what, Billy? It’s true, I did hit her. Twice, actually. The first time was when she found out that I was screwing Sharna. She was hysterical, Billy. I slapped her to calm her down. Let me see, we’d been married five years by then. Now, don’t you think if I’d been a wife-beater, Linda would have found out a long time earlier? The second time was when she demanded the right to continue working. She got hysterical then too.’
‘Was that when you broke her collarbone?’
‘Ah, the collarbone. God, that played well in court. You know, despite the misguided testimony of my receptionist, I think the men and women of the jury accepted my evidence about Sharna’s propensity for self-injury. In fact, I’m sure they did. I think they also accepted the truth about how Sharna had slipped and hit her head. At least, they were prepared to give me the benefit of the doubt. But then super bitch takes the stand and tells them I’m a habitual wife-beater. She tells them how she lived in mortal fear of what I’d do to her. Two slaps and she’s in mortal fear, for fuck’s sake! And then she claims I beat her up so badly I split her head open and broke her collarbone. She produces the medical records. It is so obvious to me that she is lying that I assumed everyone else could see that she was lying too. The judge, the jury, everyone.
‘But I underestimated her again, Billy. I underestimated her acting ability. But most of all, Billy, I underestimated how ruthless she could be in pursuing her ambition. She was brilliant. By the end of the day she had the judge and jury eating out of her hand. Why just marry the boss when you can be the boss? You see, Billy, super bitch here saw the opportunity to get her ambitions back on track. Once she got me locked away she could take over. Take over my company and take over my life. Get everything she’d ever wanted from the day she met me. All she had to do was tell a few little porky pies. So she lied, Billy. My little schoolteacher put her hand on the Bible and lied her fucking tits off! I didn’t break her collarbone, Billy. I didn’t split her head open. I didn’t, did I, Linda? Did I, Linda!’
‘Neil, you bastard, you can’t end the day here!’ Lucio turned indignantly to the others for support.
‘I meant to stop half an hour ago. My bloody leg’s killing me.’
‘Come on! You’re just using your leg as an excuse. What’s another fifteen minutes?’
‘Agony, Lucio,’ said Neil. ‘No, that’s probably too strong. Acute discomfort. And the discomfort has become so acute I’m not putting up with it
for another minute, let alone another fifteen. You can’t complain.’
‘I think you’ve done well to last as long as you have,’ said Milos. ‘Coffee?’
‘I don’t think I’ve got the time. I’ve arranged for my PA to pick me up at five which is in exactly …’ Neil checked his watch ‘… two minutes.’
‘Come now, Neil. I’m sure Barbara wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes.’
‘Barbara, Milos?’ Neil’s eyes narrowed. ‘I had no idea you were on such familiar terms with my PA.’
‘I’m not,’ said Milos quickly. ‘You know she rang after your accident. People give their name when they call, no?’
‘She rang you, did she, Milos? I was under the impression she rang Gancio.’
‘When Gancio passed on the message he also passed on her name,’ said Ramon wearily. ‘The real issue is whether or not you have time for coffee. It would be a courtesy to Gancio to let him know how many to make.’
‘I’ll skip coffee,’ said Neil. ‘Maybe one of you would like to demonstrate some of your wonderful European courtesy and help me out of my chair. Ahh … thank you, Lucio. Frankly I’m surprised I had to ask.’ He gathered up his crutches and put them under his arms. ‘Always a pleasure to see you, gentlemen. Till next week. Please feel free to talk about me when I’m gone.’
‘Till next week,’ the men responded and watched Neil make his way ineptly to the door, which Gancio held open for him.
‘Till next week indeed,’ said Ramon softly. ‘Milos, what on earth possessed you?’