Blue Saturn

by Jay, Libby

  I open the door to the apartment and everything is very hushed. Mikey and I venture into the apartment and as we enter the living area I gasp an intake of air. I quickly pick Mikey up and cover his eyes. “Hey, listen to me, Mikey.” I start walking toward his bedroom. “I’m going to take you to your room for a minute and put on a movie, okay? Then I need you to stay on your bed until I come and get you, okay? Can you do that for me?”

  “Is Mike sick,” he asks me and dread washes through me. He saw it. He saw him.

  “I think he might be a bit sick. But I’m gonna help him to feel better okay. I just need you to stay on your bed. Can you do that?” I put him down on his bed.

  “Sure, Indsy. I can stay right here.”

  I set up the movie for him and take a deep breath before leaving his room. “I’ll be right back.”

  I pull my phone from my bag and call Wayne. “I need your help with Mike. Bring Gavin.” I end the call. I know Wayne will know why I’m calling. This was why he asked me to stay away from the apartment. He knew what Mike was going to do.

  A naked woman is lying on the floor in the living area. She has a clear pouch of white powder sitting in the palm of one of her hands. There is a little bit under her nose. She’s unconscious. Hopefully.

  Mike, he’s also naked, lying on his stomach, his head resting on her thigh. He’s been sick.

  I kick the empty bottle of wine aside and kneel down next to him and feel for a pulse. He’s alive. His skin feels clammy.

  “Mike,” I say quietly.

  His eyes open slowly and they move to look up at me. “I tried,” he says before he closes his eyes again.

  Wayne takes care of the girl. I have no idea where he’s going to take her, and I don’t really care.

  Gavin helps me with Mike. I suggest taking him to the hospital, but Gavin says we can’t. Mike wouldn’t want us to. Gavin drags Mike by the underarms into his room. I’ve wrapped a bed sheet around him to preserve some of his dignity, but Gavin seems to think he doesn’t deserve it. Gavin drags him into the shower and turns on the cold water.

  Mike barely flinches when the water hits him. He looks up at me and I see a mountain of remorse and pain in his eyes. “I tried Lyndsay,” he says. “I tried.”

  I leave him with Gavin while I clean up the mess in the living area.

  I have no idea what to do with the remaining illegal white substance that is lined up neatly on the coffee table. So I wet a tea towel from the kitchen and wipe it all away. Then I throw the towel in the bin.

  I scrape the small amount of vomit off the carpet, thanking Mike for having an empty stomach. I use some of the disinfectant wipes I purchased in Sydney to clean the carpet as well as I can.

  Gavin assures me that Mike won’t die overnight, but I’m making him stay with us in the apartment anyway.

  “Who gave him the drugs?” I ask after I’ve put Mikey to bed.

  Gavin shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter who gave him the drugs. He’s a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. There’s no one you or Mike can blame except Mike.”

  “Was it Paul? Or Steve? Who was it?”

  “What are you going to do about it, Lynd’s? There is nothing you can do.”

  “He was doing so well.”

  “You really think so?”

  “He’d toned it down. He wanted to succeed.”

  “The only way that boy is going to succeed is to book himself into a clinic. But he won’t take help. He thinks he’s strong enough to do it alone. I know he’s not.”

  “You did it alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone. I had my family. See me? I’m six foot two inches of pure strength. My eleven sisters are the same. Henri, she’s even taller than me. Bloody Scandinavian genetics. It breeds giants.”

  “Hasn’t Mike got anyone who can help him?”

  Gavin shakes his head.

  “Will you help him?” I ask in desperation.

  “I’ve already offered, but he says he doesn’t need help.”

  I start pacing and I’m really not so sure why I’m so upset by this. A week ago, I would’ve just shook my head at him and walked away. But so much has changed in a week. I’ve seen a vulnerability to Mike that has softened me to him. He wants to get past this addiction. He’s trying. He’s tried and he’s failed. Surely everyone fails once.

  “Did you ever relapse?” I ask Gavin.

  “Not yet and I pray I never will. My little girl needs me.”

  I continue to pace.

  “You need to go for a run,” Gavin says.

  “I don’t feel like going for a run.”

  “I don’t care. You need to run. You’re all anxious.”

  “It’s too late to go for a run. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ll call Wayne to come sit with Mike and I’ll run with you.”

  “I don’t want to run.”

  Gavin pulls out his phone. “You’re going for a run.”

  The run did wonders, but I’m sure Gavin will never run with me again. I set a fast pace and with all my built up stress, I kept pace for the entire 11.2 kilometre run. I thought Gavin was going to go into cardiac arrest at one stage but he never asked me to slow down. Pride does strange things to a person.

  Wayne left as soon as we got back from our run. Gavin has fallen asleep on the couch. I put the empty cups into the dishwasher and decide to go to bed. But before I do, I need to check in on Mike.

  I know he doesn’t like people being in his room. I got away with it once, but I know I won’t rest unless I know he’s still alive.

  I slowly open the door to his bedroom and look in. I can’t see him from this position, his room is too dark. So I turn on the light in the hall and wait for my eyes to adjust.

  I can just make out his form in the bed. He’s sleeping on his side, facing toward me. I watch for any movement, but don’t see any. I step into the room, hoping to hear him breathing. But I can’t hear anything. I step closer to the bed. In the dim light, I can see sweat on his forehead. Then one of his legs twitches.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and step backwards toward the door. I’m just about to close it, when I hear his voice.

  “Lynd’s.”

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be in your room but I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  He moves, rolling onto his back. “Come here.” His voice is whisper quiet, but I know he’s not deliberately trying to be quiet.

  I step into his room and slowly make my way toward his bed.

  “Did Mikey see?”

  I almost break down in tears. His only worry is his son, as it should be. Finally, he’s thinking like a father.

  “Yes, but he thinks you’re sick, that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry Lyndsay,” he says.

  “It’s okay, Mike.”

  “No it’s not. I promised you...I promised better times were ahead. At the concert. How many days ago was that?”

  It was three nights ago, but I don’t answer his question.

  He groans. “I couldn’t even keep my promise for one week. One week...” He swallows. It’s laboured and he winces. “Could you please get me a bottle of water?”

  I nod my head slowly. “I’ll be right back.”

  When I return with the water, he’s sitting up in his bed. “Who put me in bed?”

  “Gavin.” I hold the bottle out to him.

  “I only did two lines. It was the alcohol that...” He stops talking as he tries to undo the cap on the bottle. He can’t get a strong enough grip.

  “Do you want me to...”

  “I can do it.” He uses the edge of the bed sheet to wipe his hands dry and tries again. “I guess you can see now why she left me.”

  Again I don’t know what to say. This man is in pain. The worst sort of self-inflicted pain coupled with a shot of shame and low self esteem.

  “I don’t see that,” I finally say.

  He grunts as he manages to loosen the cap on the bottle and unscrews i
t. He takes a few mouthfuls before putting the bottle on the bedside table.

  “I was a failure then and I’m a failure now.”

  “You’re not a...”

  “Go to bed, Lyndsay. One of us is going to have to be on the ball tomorrow. He have a plane to catch.”

  I stand up from the bed. “Good night, Mike.”

  “Yeah.” He lowers himself back down to the bed.

  I quietly close the door and feel the weight of the past few hours move. It doesn’t lift, it just moves from my neck and shoulders and settles over my heart.

  12.

  This apartment is nice, but not as nice as the one in Brisbane. It’s not a penthouse apartment it’s just a regular sort. I know I sound like a spoilt brat, but it’s true.

  This apartment is big. It’s another three bedroom apartment and it’s modern but it doesn’t have the same modern conveniences as the apartment in Brisbane. Mike said that we’re in New Zealand so we have to expect everything to be a bit behind in the times.

  Our stay in Auckland is only short, four nights. After Auckland we head back to Melbourne. The band will go their separate ways for ten days before they head to the UK. I haven’t spoken to Mike as to whether he wants me to stay with him for the ten days before we head overseas or if I should go home. He hasn’t broached the subject with me either.

  I’m just finishing unpacking my suitcase when there is a knock on the door. Liane walks in with three dress bags draped over her arm. “You’re a ten, right?”

  I nod my head as she lays the bags out on the bed. “There’s a red one, a black one and a blue one. They’ll all look stunning on you because the girl in the shop was a native and they all looked beautiful against her dark skin. I had no idea what size shoe you are so I guessed a seven, considering you’re short. You need to be ready to leave at eight o’clock.”

  I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. “Where am I going?”

  “Mike has something planned.” Liane looks me up and down and leaves my room.

  I don’t know whether to look at what’s in the dress bags first or to seek out Mike. But going by the sounds coming from the living area, I’d say Liane is none too impressed that she was sent shopping for me.

  I unzip the first bag and pull out the blue dress. She was right; it is stunning. But it’s also very low at the back. I can’t wear a backless dress. My hair only covers to just below my shoulder blades. I don’t want my patches being on display.

  The black dress is... well a simple black dress. With my hair down, it will keep my patches covered. But it has spaghetti string straps. My shoulders will be exposed.

  The third dress is a red bandage style dress. It has thick shoulder width straps, it covers most of my back, but is very low in the front. It’s also short, fitted to mid-thigh. So now I have to decide whether I want my patches or my breasts and legs on display.

  Breasts and legs win.

  I try on the dress and it is a perfect fit. It’s just not my usual style. The low cut front is round and makes my breasts look bigger than they actually are. I remove my bra and realise the dress is so tightly fitted, I can get away with not wearing it. The bandage effect gives my curves the perfect amount of accentuation and on the sides of the dress, under the arms, there is a laced effect, making the bodice look like a corset.

  It’s very sexy and very not me.

  The shoes are a perfect fit. They’re a simple nude coloured stiletto. I don’t have stockings to wear or a jacket to go with the dress, so I’m hoping that wherever we go, we’ll be inside, somewhere warm.

  I look at myself in the mirror. With my hair washed and blow dried straight and a little bit of makeup, I might just be able to pull this look off.

  But first I need to know what Mike has planned.

  He’s sitting at the dining table with Liane. She’s going through a list of publicity bookings. She’s mentioning radio shows and a morning show and a magazine shoot and a meet and greet before tomorrow night’s show.

  I go into the kitchen and boil the kettle. There’s not even a coffee machine in this apartment. And if I’m going to be going out late tonight, I’ll need a coffee.

  Mike looks bored but nods his head. He has a copy of all the appointments on a sheet of paper in front of him, but Liane seems to think she needs to reel them off to him.

  “Any questions?” she asks as she stands.

  “No,” Mike says.

  “Good. Enjoy your night out. Think of me, working away.”

  Mike stands and walks her to the door of the apartment. Once she’s safely outside, he sighs. “That woman is becoming a pain in the arse.” He joins me in the kitchen. “Do you like the dresses?”

  “I do. But I wish I knew what they were for.”

  “We’re going out tonight. You and me for dinner and then we’re meeting up with the boys at a club.” He smiles at me. “I know you like to jump, but do you like to dance?”

  “I like to dance,” I say narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Good.” He moves closer to me and hesitantly puts his hand on my upper arm. “Tonight is my version of a peace offering. I’m really sorry about yesterday.”

  “It’s okay, Mike.”

  “I’m going to keep my promise to you. It won’t happen again.” He gives my arm a gentle squeeze before he walks away.

  It’s three minutes to eight. I look at my reflection in the mirror again. I don’t look like me. I look like something or someone else. I look tempting and sultry. I do not look like a nanny.

  I hear Mike and Gavin in the living area. They’re laughing at something. Gavin is here to look after Mikey until later, when a hotel recommended babysitter is coming by to sit for Mikey. Mike has given a fake name so the sitter won’t actually be aware of whose child they’re looking after. Because of the time difference, Mikey is still awake even though it’s almost eight o’clock. Back home, it’s only six.

  I check my appearance again and because I can’t put off the inevitable, I leave the safety of my bedroom and walk down the hallway toward the living area.

  I see Mike first. He’s wearing black pants and a white button up dress shirt. He looks even more handsome than usual.

  He does a double take when I walk into the room. Gavin is staring at me, his mouth slowly opening. His hair is a burnt orange colour now.

  I stand still, feeling my body heat rise with the unexpected attention and slowly smile. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Oh dear mother of...” Gavin begins. He looks at Mike. “You’re in serious trouble.” He walks toward me and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “You’d better save a dance for me.”

  I smile up at him. “I will.”

  He steps away and shakes Mike’s hand. “See ya later.” He makes himself comfortable on the couch.

  Mike comes toward me and smiles. I remember how that smile used to make my skin crawl but tonight, it makes my skin tingle for a different reason. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thanks Mike. You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.”

  He’s still smiling when he puts his hand out to me. I take it and let him lead me out of the apartment.

  Wayne drives us to a restaurant not far from the hotel. It’s a French restaurant and I’m instantly concerned about having to eat frogs legs and snails.

  We’re seated at a very private table at the rear of the restaurant. The large window affords a stunning view of the harbour. The waiter comes to take our drinks order. Mike lets me order first and I ask for iced lemon water.

  Mike revises my order and asks for a jug of iced lemon water.

  “You can drink alcohol, if you want to,” I say.

  “No. I’ll go dry tonight.”

  The menu is written in French for the most part, but under each item is a brief description in English. I decide for an entree I’ll have the oysters Kilpatrick, for my main I’ll try the ocean trout and for dessert I cannot go past the chocolate mousse. I’m disappointed there is no Crème Broulee.
>
  “I can ask the chef to make you one,” Mike says as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times.

  “No. I’ll stick with the mousse.”

  The waiter takes our menus and suddenly we’re alone.

  “I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” Mike says. “But I need to ask you one question.”

  “Okay.” I’m just glad we have something to talk about.

  “After we get back home, before we go to the UK, will you come and stay with me at my house in Melbourne?”

  “If you’d like me to.”

  “I would really like you to. I have to set up an area for Mikey. A bedroom and a play room and...make a home for him. My house is just a massive bachelor pad. I share it with Gavin, but he has his own space. I need to make it a place where Mikey feels at home and I need your help to do that.”

  “I’d love to help you.” And I would. Seeing Mike finally taking responsibility fills me with pride. I don’t know why I feel like that. I guess I’m just relieved that when the time comes to finally leave, Mikey will be well looked after. The thought of leaving Mikey makes me feel sad.

  “Thanks. I have all these ideas about making his bedroom really simple, but boyish still. But his playroom, I have this massive room that’s just full of old guitars and old drum kits and I thought I could make it a massive indoor play room. With slides and ball pits and a trampoline and all that stuff kids love. And then outside, next to the pool, there’s this massive grassy area that just annoys me because it has to be mown when all I’d really love to do is concrete over it so I don’t have to pay my gardener to mow it. Anyway, I thought I could make it into a jungle gym. I always wanted a jungle gym when I was a kid. We could have swinging ropes and slides and rickety bridges and...” he stops and looks at me. “What’s so funny?”

  It’s only now he’s mentioned it that I realise that I’m laughing. I am laughing at his enthusiasm and his child like nature. It’s endearing and totally unlike the Mike Greene I thought I knew.

  “I’m laughing because a few weeks ago you said you didn’t want Mikey anywhere near you and now you’re remodelling you’re entire home to accommodate him. I’m laughing because I’m reassured.”