“Harvey, it’s okay, Harvey,” I said, and got a cranky yap for my efforts. Arch stepped in to try and tame the savage beast as well, only to have Harvey snap at his outstretched hand. It was Rush who had the magic touch. He walked straight up to Harvey, crouched down, offered his hand for examination and said, “Good boy.” Harvey, traitorous mongrel, rolled over at Rush’s feet, offering his belly for a pat.
And there we were: a dog with a bucket on his head, a playboy-athlete, a hero-action man, a thespian-diplomat and me and we were suddenly all having a sleep over at my house.
And I was the biggest swear word, swear word idiot in the entire universe to think for one nano-second that this would work. Fuck!
People can be different types of silent. They can be feigning sleep, hushed with awe or still in anticipation. I think the type of silence that filled the house as we entered was more the silence of being smacked in the gob. Even though it sparkled, Nana’s house wasn’t Hollywood fit. It took about three minutes for them to make it from the front door to the back verandah. I had my guts clenched and my speech prepared. And Simon had something delicious laid out for us, so at least I wouldn’t be starving them as well as embarrassing them.
I took a deep breath, not in the least calming. “My grandmother left me this house. When I couldn’t find suitable accommodation, I thought this might be better than nothing at all. It’s quiet and central and we have housekeeping, and mostly everything works. Simon is here to organise our meals, and the beach is down the road, but I understand this is nowhere near the standard you would’ve expected and...” that breath wasn’t deep enough, my next words came out sounding choked. “I can’t imagine why I thought this would be all right. My apologies. Obviously, I understand this is a fiasco of my making. Perhaps you’d prefer to go home.”
“Home! Hell, no!” boomed Shane. He came out from one of the bedrooms. “This is cool, we can cope. We’re not complete jackasses. We know we didn’t give you any time to organise this. Kept thinking it’d all be too hard and get called off.”
“We’re surprised you agreed in the first place, but Toby said you’d work a miracle and here we are,” said Arch, opening his arms to indicate the orange vinyl lounge suite I’d thought was retro chic and could now see was more St Vinnies.
“And we’ve been here two hours and no one has taken a picture,” said Shane, “that’s a record for us. What do you think Rush?”
“I’ve got a problem.” Rush stepped into the hallway with a severe expression.
Here it comes. Shit, it’s over. Next stop unemployment queue.
“What?” said Shane, in a fair imitation of a mother dealing with a tantruming toddler.
“I’ve got an Oscar. I don’t share my bedroom with complete strangers.”
“Oh yeah?” Arch laughed.
“What?” I was still trying to process the fact they’d half expected to cancel the trip.
“There’s someone already in my room and I don’t like the look of him,” said Rush.
Then we heard, “Who’s a pretty cocky? Who’s a pretty cocky?”
Holy mother of crap!
“And I think he’s insulting me,” said Rush, over stunned laughter from Shane and Arch.
The only way out was to tough it. I slid past Rush into the bedroom and retrieved Chook. “I thought you might like to meet the local wildlife.”
11: Fireworks
Chook was an instant hit and waddled from room to room supervising unpacking and muttering obscenities. While my new besties seemed to accept being at the house, I took Shane aside to have a more specific discussion.
“I just want to say again I know how unorthodox the accommodation is and I fully understand you might not want to stay. At worst, I can place you in a suitable hotel by January third.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Andi, it’s not a problem. Hotels are all the same after a while and we’d be sneaking about using back entrances and avoiding the public spaces. Besides we’d like to spend a few days in Sydney and then get out of the city somewhere. What do you think?”
I thought someone might have told me this before now. Did that truck stop outside Ulladulla count? Hmm, probably not.
“I’m sure I can come up with something.” I was almost positive I couldn’t, but I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say while looking into those baby blues? “Tonight we have a choice of activities. We have an invitation to a party on a yacht. It will be moored in front of the Harbour Bridge where the fireworks take place and we have tickets to an exclusive event at the Opera House, which is the premier party in the city. In both cases, there’s the risk you might be recognised, but we have a cover story about you being lookalikes here to pre-promote your movie.”
“What do normal people do?” asked Shane. He’d moved his hand from my shoulder to a tray of smoked salmon thingys. He’d already had about five of them. “These rock,” he said and popped another one in his mouth.
I laughed. “They stay home and party with friends and family and watch the fireworks on TV or they find somewhere with a view of the harbour.”
“Then that’s what we wanna do.”
“You mean forget the yacht. Forget the Opera House?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“Yep. We spend most of our lives going to damn events. Hell, being the damn event. We try to be normal and just hang out whenever we can.”
This was a twist. Neither of the invitations had been easy to wrangle and both were events that sold out a year in advance. It hadn’t occurred to me they would want to avoid the prime party spots that everyone else was desperate to get into.
“You’re sure?”
With that Shane flung open the bathroom door and shouted over the shower water, “Arch, what do ya wanna to do tonight?”
Arch stuck a wet torso out from behind the newly installed screen and I lurched back behind the door, but not before seeing how very muscular he was. Oh my Lord. “Can we do something normal? With pizza?”
“Rush, where are you? What do you wanna to do tonight?” called Shane.
“Out here.” Rush was on the verandah. “I’ve been working on my Aussie accent. I’d like to get out on the street and try it out,” he said, adding in a near perfect imitation of Bert, “Whaddya reckon, mate?”
I made a few very apologetic phone calls, had Simon rustle up more food in the form of pizza and beer and downgraded my wardrobe for the evening. Instead of a deep blue slinky silk halter-neck number, we’d be going strictly casual, which was a much better look for me, given the unfortunate footwear situation. I also packed a bag so I could move next door with Bert.
I’d heaved it to the back door when Rush appeared. He was dressed casually in a pair of dark blue jeans, a pair of scuffed cowboy boots and a white button down shirt, open at the neck with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was wet from the shower and slicked back and he smelled of something divinely spicy. It wasn’t the clothes that made me feel swoony, it was the way he moved, the confidence in his gestures, the quick upward flick of his left eyebrow, the subtle tilt of his head, and the slow, almost shy, lopsided smile he gave me. It did something odd to my insides, made me feel light headed and stupid.
“Are you running out on us already?”
I was standing next to Rush Dawson, touching distance. All the calcium drained out of my bones. My face still worked so I smiled. “I’ll be sleeping next door.”
“God no, Andi.” He picked up the bag and moved it away from the door. “We’re not throwing you out of your own bedroom.”
He was so easy to want to smile at. I could do it around the clock. “Not at all.”
He put the toe of a boot to the side of my bag. “So what’s this?”
“You’re not putting me out, but it’s bad enough you’re sharing one bathroom and an ensuite.”
“We’re not putting you out and we’re perfectly capable of sharing. This is your home. It was a big call you agreeing to put us up. Shane
knew we were tempting fate making these arrangements so late. We get it. If you’d put us in a tent we’d have been happy, but to open your own home to us.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t comprehend why I’d do that. “This is terrific, really.”
Oh, good four-letter swear word. Rush Dawson was making me squirm. Not just with what he said, but that voice of his—liquid golden syrup, all warm and deep. Shit! I think my mouth was open the whole time he was talking. Yep it was, because when he reached out and touched my arm, I heard my back teeth clack together.
“It’s also good of you to take time out from friends and family to look after us on such short notice. I hope we didn’t ruin your own New Year’s plans.”
He had this way of looking straight in your eyes as though he could see every sin you’d ever thought of committing. That was beyond distracting, it was downright invasive. It was quite possible that if I opened my mouth only drool would spill out.
“Did we ruin your plans?”
Oh crap, that was a real question. “Ah, no, my family is away. I was planning on having a quiet time, resting the leg, so it’s no problem.”
He bent forward and picked up my bag. “If you move out of your own bedroom that will make me unhappy, Andi.” Okaaay, so he could channel Master and Commander in a very believable manner that hit me about kneecap level.
“Ah...”
He gave me eyebrow attitude, and he might as well have stuck a hairdryer in my mouth—all my saliva dried up. “And you don’t want to do that.”
Which is how I came to watch him carry my bag back into the house and down the hallway to my bedroom. And what a mighty fine sight that was. Hit me quite a bit above my kneecaps and quite a bit below my waist.
And let’s not forget he touched my arm when he didn’t need to for politeness sake.
I was suddenly every ridiculous teenage TV character who was never going to wash again. What on earth was wrong with me?
By 7.00pm, we were piled into a taxi on our way into the city. The plan was to do what normal people did, which meant no security detail—one more freak out to add to the list of things I’d freaked out about already today.
They wanted to get as close to the crowded harbour foreshore as we could and join in with the street party. As plans go, it was such a bad idea it might just work. It was about the last place you’d expect these three to be. And they were supremely confident they could get away with it, filling my head full of stories of when and where they’d done this kind of thing before. They left me somewhat confident that they’d be relatively anonymous if we blended in with the crowd. Then again, I’d clearly lost my sense of what was smart when I turned my house into a Hollywood bed and breakfast. In an odd way, it was safer than the yacht or Opera House options where I could never be sure some media savvy socialite wouldn’t catch us in our cover story lie. But still, I was way out of my comfort zone here.
It was a hot and steamy night with clear skies and beginnings of a pink sunset. There were thousands of people on the streets. Families with little kids and babies in strollers and backpacks, giggling teenagers with big expectations, groups of friends out for a rowdy time and couples looking for magic in the air. The bars and restaurants were brim full of people in party hard mode.
Wearing jeans and cotton shirts, Hollywood looked no different from anyone else out and about. Rush and Arch both had caps pulled down low over their faces and Shane had a short brimmed straw trilby. There wasn’t a pair of stereotypical dark sunglasses to be seen.
“Sunglasses at night, that’s like wearing a billboard that says ‘look at me’,” snorted Shane.
We managed to get through the crowds as far as the famous Jack’s on George where music from a live band was blaring. There was a ripple of shared glances and the three of them charged into the packed, dimly lit bar leaving me standing on the pavement cursing the plan and wondering if I’d ever find them again. A few minutes later, Arch was back, he took my crutches, grabbed my hand and made a pathway for me to a table they’d secured by attaching themselves to a big group of single girls.
“Are you with John, Robert and Teddy?” sneered a peroxide blonde in skin tight pink spandex. She looked me up and down, rating me a zero in the competition stakes. If only she knew who I’d glimpsed naked in the shower and would be sharing walls with later.
They’d been arguing about what alias to use in the taxi. I was grateful they’d gone with political royalty over comedy royalty. I’d pointed out calling themselves Harpo, Chico and Groucho wasn’t all that consistent with our flying under the radar strategy.
Drinks were bought, dancing was done, and accents were assumed. Hearing a Scottish burr from Arch was a surprise and Shane’s Aussie accent was more Cockney, but Rush had it down pat. He could have been born here instead of having arrived this morning.
The guys were having a good time and their adoptive girls were counting lucky stars to have all the attention. I took it all in quietly from a stool Arch magically procured for me, completely amazed at what we were getting away with. Just like they said we would. This was too easy.
By about 10.00pm Shane was talking with the band, Arch had a redhead in a micro mini skirt on his knee and Rush was deep in conversation with a drag queen in a feathered bra top, silver flares and platform heels.
Fifteen minutes later, easy evaporated. Suddenly, Shane was on stage with the band screaming out AC/DC’s You Shook Me all Night Long, to roars of approval. He’d taken Arch’s cap and pulled it low down over his face, but this was so far above the radar as to be orbiting the sun.
I needed to get them out of here and get us lost in the crowds at the foreshore, as quickly as possible. The bar was dangerously full, sweaty and jumping. I’d lost sight of Rush and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get them out of the bar unrecognised.
There was no way I could get anywhere near the stage, where Shane and the band were now doing Cold Chisel’s Khe Sahn, but mad waving of a crutch above the heads of the crowd managed to get Arch’s attention, so I crossed my fingers that he’d get the message, grab Shane and get the hell out of Dodge.
On the street, I found Rush nursing a beer and limped across to him, but I didn’t see he was on the phone until I was at his side and heard him say, “You bitch. You’re bluffing. There is no way you’ll see this through. I’m not playing your fucking nasty little game.”
I backed off, but not before Rush lifted his head, caught sight of me and gave me a dark look that made my insides curl up and wither. He moved away to continue the conversation and I leaned on my crutches feeling like a naughty school girl waiting to see the principal.
A few minutes later the crowd inside the bar erupted with cheers and whistles and a dishevelled Shane and a shirtless Arch were beside me.
“Love Australian rock. Whoo!” Shane danced about and punched the air. “Sorry Andi, couldn’t help myself.”
“Do we need our cover story?”
“Maybe,” he laughed. “He needs a shirt,” he pointed at Arch.
“No I just need buttons,” Arch waved his shirt above his head cowboy stripper style. Oh call the fire brigade. “Where’s Groucho?”
“There,” I pointed. “On the phone.”
“And acting the part too,” mused Shane, studying Rush. “Andi, we’re safe, I promise you. C’mon, let’s go see the fireworks.”
The four of us made our way down to the foreshore and stood with thousands of others looking out towards the Bridge, the Opera House and the north shore. Arch manoeuvred us to a space near a set of traffic barricades and lifted me up to sit on top of one saying, “There you go, much safer for you.” Then he propped beside me with a look that said, ‘you’ll have to get past me to get to her’, and I realised he’d known how handicapped I was in a crowd and was actively looking out for me. I snuck a look at him. He had his shirt back on but without the buttons it was open, displaying his smooth chest and ripped abdominal muscles. Holy swear word. Take that spandex girl.
I wasn
’t the only one looking. We’d attracted attention amongst the people waiting and to my dismay I heard, “Hey, aren’t you that bloke. That guy from the movies. You are, you’re him, that guy!”
Oh God, this is what I’d been tensed and waiting for, but I needn’t have worried.
“Mate, you’ve just won me twenty bucks,” yelled Rush, sounding like a younger version of Bert. “Pay up ya bastard,” he clapped Shane on the shoulder. As Shane handed across the money, Rush laughed, “That’s why I like going out with this bloke. There’s always a sucker who thinks he’s that actor and I always go home richer!”
Unbelievable. They were going to get away with it.
All around us laughter rang out as the three of them started a mock punch up, cuffing and shoving at each other. Rush flipped Shane’s hat off. Arch lifted Rush off the ground, and Shane danced around them with his fists up saying, “I’ll take ya both.” Suddenly we went from being the object of unwanted attention to just another boisterous group out for a good time. I shot Rush a look and mouthed the words, ‘Thank you’ and got a mini salute in return.
At midnight, the real show began with a spectacular parade of boats and water crafts all lit up and the crowd counting down to the moment where we said goodbye to the old year. Hoots, whistles and cheers along with the first of the bright, shimmery fireworks filled the air. The crowd was oh-ing and ah-ing as one explosion of light and colour after another illuminated the night sky.
There were starbursts and flower shapes, and rockets of bursting colour flaring way overhead and coming from a dozen vantage points around the harbour to create the sensation of being at the centre of a wondrous flight of fantasy.
The firework display was set to music and paced to create a sense of drama, building to a crescendo where the Harbour Bridge was transformed into a cascading waterfall of sparkles crowned with shooting stars, finally revealing a large flashing peace sign that served as a symbol to welcome the New Year.
How to Hide a Hollywood Star Page 5