“Where the hell have you been?” Gina scorned as Paul sauntered into the dining room, a plastic shopping bag in one hand.

“Finding milk,” Paul shrugged.

“For two hours?” Gina gasped, taking the bag off of him and placing it on the table.

“Well no, I got a bit lost and ended up being harangued by a group of eight-year-olds on bikes who thought it would be fun to see how off-putting it would be if they tried to run me down.”

“So, what did you do?”

“Ran like a girl,” Paul said sheepishly. “Then found a big stick, crammed it in the first guy’s spokes and watched them crumple like human dominos.”

“That is so horrendously evil.”

“Oh there’s more. After I got the milk I detoured to see if the wreckage was cleared, paramedics were called, things like that. I got just past the tyre marks, blood spots and scratches in the footpath when I heard ‘Mum that’s him, that’s the man.’ And this woman who looked like the results of Attila the Hun and a bull terrier’s one-night stand came marching out of her garden, right up to me. I thought she was gonna deck me as her kid starts whining about a broken arm or something and she just looked me up and down and said, ‘Oh my god, you’re Paul McDermott, I love you.’ I gave her an autograph, she gave me a kiss and the little shit got belted for trying to run me down.”

“And that took two hours?” she asked.

“No, the having to stay for a cuppa with Mrs Hun and her friends was what really took the time. They were all mad Dougs fans in the 80s and I was forced to lie a lot. Oh and apparently they all approve of you,” he replied animatedly.

“Is it possible that you’ve actually got stupider since you’ve been out?” she mused.

“It’s the fresh air.”

“Yeah, hasn’t just blown out the cobwebs. It’s taken any semblance of intelligence too,” she giggled and he narrowed his eyes. “Sorry hon, there’s was a lot of initiative involved in attacking a group of small children,” she added and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You should have seem them topple, the screams were music to my ears,” Paul grinned as Gina held him a little bit tighter, having barely been able to lay a finger on him recently. He responded by moving his arms around her, but was still over excited by his run in with the neighbourhood kids. “It was brilliant, eight-year-olds scattered all over the footpath…”

“I’m proud of you, really,” Gina mused and then sighed. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a kiss for your wife before she has to go to work?”

“Gee I don’t know, you’ll be cutting it fine,” Paul teased, checking his watch and then smiling. They had just fallen into a loving and much needed kiss, when a man clearing his throat interrupted them

“The Formica is done,” the man said bashfully.

“Thanks, my husband will see you right in a moment,” Gina smiled and the man shuffled off quickly.

“I will, will I?” Paul chided as Gina pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I’ll make it up to you when I get home,” she smiled as she grabbed her bag and fished out her car keys.

“Oh hey, that reminds me. We’ve been invited to dinner,” he piped up.

“When?” she gasped.

“Ah, tonight,” he winced. “Mikey and Laura invited us to some fancy new restaurant. I completely forgot…sorry.”

Gina felt her entire body slump. She’d wanted a night in with Paul, and now she was being forced to go to dinner. She hated going out to dinner. “You better give me the details since I’ll probably have to meet you there,” she sighed.

Fenny packed the last of her things into her bag and glanced around the empty classroom. She was more than happy with her first lesson, the students had been eager to learn and she was excited to be able to use her skills for good instead of what Fenny deemed evil: advertising. The only drawback had been Jenna appearing as a model. That was something she’d never get used to. Fenny switched off the light and closed the classroom door, still running high on adrenaline.

“Isn’t this just like a blast,” Jenna gushed and Fenny jumped and smacked into the door.

“Shit Jenna, what are you trying to do to me?” Fenny gasped, pulling herself away from the door and turning to see Jenna standing there, redressed and with a styrofoam cup in her hand.

“What are you still doing here? I let you go ages ago?”

“I thought I’d steal a lift home, if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Fenny shrugged as they made their way down the corridor. “So how long have you been nude modelling?”

“I don’t know, a while now,” Jenna shrugged. “I was going to do like an office skills class but Jett told me I’d just be wasting my time.”

“What the hell would Jett know? He’s the dope lead singer of a terrible band who dumps you whenever he hooks up with a groupie?”

“Well you and Brad aren’t exactly rosy,” Jenna countered. “I live across the hall, I hear your raised voices.”

“Yeah, but Brad respects my career and my choices,” Fenny declared and then realised that that probably wasn’t strictly true. “Jenna, if you want to do something more than getting naked in front of a group of people, do it.”

Jenna looked blankly at Fenny as they reached Fenny’s car. “But Jett says…”

“What are you? His lap dog?” Fenny scorned.

“No,” Jenna said sadly. “Never mind, you don’t understand.”

Fenny looked at her strangely for a moment. It was unusual for Jenna to be subduedn and Fenny had the distinct feeling she wanted to tell her something. She kicked the engine into gear and Jenna took to playing with the radio.

“Why don’t they ever play Christina when you want her?” Jenna sighed.

“Because I’d have to remove my car stereo if that happened,” Fenny mused. “And I have no desire to fork out for a new one at the moment.”

Jenna shrugged and pressed play on the CD player instead and settled back. “How’s Lilly?”

“She’s taken to calling her father an ass.”

Jenna giggled, “Oh, I bet he loves that?”

“She calls me Fenny-Mom.”

“That’s so adorable,” Jenna cooed. “I’m so jealous, I’d love kids.”

“You can have Lilly if you want.”

“Can I have her father as well?” Jenna jeered.

“Please, I can’t even have her father.”

“Ah ha, so that’s why you’re so cynical,” Jenna grinned. “No sex will do that to a woman.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I find the best method is just to strip naked and jump reluctant men. Once you get your hand on their…”

“Jenna! I think I know how to pleasure my husband, thank you,” Fenny scorned.

“Yeah, so then why aren’t you getting any?”

“Want me to go back to talking about Jett?”

Jenna pouted and slumped. “I’d rather you didn’t.” They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

“Gee hot pink is really you,” Danny teased as he sauntered into Gina’s dressing room, the glaring pink jacket and matching eye shadow she’d been forced to wear making him cringe.

“Yeah, I always wanted to look like some god-awful 80s reject,” Gina scorned. “How’d your day go?”

“Not bad. I was interviewing golfers all day, and you know what? I still think it’s the most boring sport known to man.”

“I’m sure they’ll send you to interview more footballers soon,” she soothed, squeezing his arm.

“I hope so,” he pouted. “Know what’s worse? I can’t play with my footy team any more, gotta stay pretty for the camera.”

“Aw, I’m sure you’ll survive,” she mused.

“Yeah, I’m being dragged to the gym by another sports reporter, Tony, who I think is gay. Not that I’m homophobic, but I don’t want to lead the poor thing on accidentally.”

“What makes you think he’s gay?”

“I don’t know, he has Lycra gym shorts.”

“Oh, well it’s obvious then,” she teased.

“Speaking of people that freak me out, how’s Paul?”

“Adorably stupid. He’s started lashing out at the neighbourhood kids.”

“And who said you needed a guard dog?” Danny laughed and received a playful punch for his comment.

“Oh, and you’ll be pleased to know Troy is as good as new now.”

“I can’t believe he still has that mongoose.”

“Damn thing gets more time with him than I do,” Gina huffed as the door opened and Freya appeared in a figure-hugging yellow dress.

“Hi guys, how do I look? Does it say seven days of sunshine?” she perked.

“I was thinking corn on the cob?” Danny chided.

Freya laughed and turned to the mirror to add some more mascara. “Paul likes me in yellow,” she declared. Danny grabbed Gina to stop her strangling Freya with the cord of the hair dryer.

“I’ll yellow her,” Gina muttered.

Fenny arrived home to find Brad still slumped in front of the television. A crumb-scattered plate and half-empty mug were on the coffee table, and there was a small trail of Lilly’s toys left precariously on the carpet.

“What’re you watching?” Fenny asked, absent-mindedly picking up the toys and dropping her bag into a chair.

“I think it’s Survivor. Or it could be CNN, I can’t tell.”

“Right. Dinner?” she asked, motioning to the abandoned plate as she joined him on the couch.

“Nope,” he replied, eyes still firmly on the television. “I took Lilly to McDonalds for dinner, and we picked up cake on the way home. There’s some left if you want it.”

“Why’d you take her to McDonalds? I told you there were leftovers in the fridge,” she scorned.

“She wanted a Happy Meal,” he shrugged.

“You spoil her.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do. If she asks for something, you give it to her.”

“If you wanted something I’d get it for you.”

“I don’t want anything material, you dumbass, I want you,” she exclaimed.

“Did you just call me a dumbass?” Brad asked, finally looking at Fenny.

“I’ve been stuck in a car with Jenna, my brain had to close down to deal with her.”

“I thought you were doing your teaching thing?”

“I was. Turns out Jenna was the model.”

“Hmm, maybe I should take up art,” Brad grinned and got elbowed for the effort. “Jesus, or maybe not.”

“So, what did you get up to while I was gone?”

“I watched prime time television, got Lilly to bed, and watched more television. Oh and I’ve got a taping the day after tomorrow.”

“You didn’t decide to do any housework then?”

“There was housework to do?” Brad asked blankly.

Fenny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Well if you’ve got a taping, who’s going to look after Lilly?”

“Well I thought you could…”

“I’m teaching.”

“Yeah but, you could take the night off, couldn’t you? I mean it’s not like we need the money.”

Fenny looked angrily at Brad. “I’m not doing it for the money.”

“No?” Brad mused. “Then what are you doing it for?”

“Because I’m an artist, or had you not noticed that? I’m teaching other people my profession, and I enjoy it because for once it’s something I know I’m good at.”

“I’m not doubting that, but someone’s got to look after Lilly if I’m working.”

“So what are you saying? Your job is more important than mine?” Fenny snapped.

“Well, you’ve only just started, sweetie, and I’ve been doing Whose Line for years.”

“You selfish prick,” Fenny spat and got to her feet. “Get out of my apartment.”

“What?” Brad gasped.

“Oh you heard,” she snapped. “I can take a lot of shit from you, but how dare you tell me what I do isn’t important. Sure, it doesn’t save lives or change the world, but it’s important to me.”

“Fen, I didn’t mean it to…” he gasped as he shot to his feet. He tried to take her in his arms, but she stepped away from him.

“No Brad, you did,” Fenny hissed. “Now get out of my apartment.”

Brad was speechless. The spineless, helpless Fenny he was used to seemed a long way behind. He’d overstepped the line this time, and she wasn’t backing down in a hurry. He grabbed his keys and looked hopelessly at Fenny, who stood arms crossed and glaring at him.

“I didn’t mean it how it sounded, it’s just…” his voice trailed off as she stalked over to him.

“You’ve insulted me, Bradley, and I don’t want to see you until you learn to grow the hell up,” Fenny spat. “Now get out of my apartment.”

“I love you,” Brad managed to breathe before the door slammed in his face.

“Where’d Daddy go?” Lilly asked, appearing from her room, her small hands rubbing her eyes.

“For a walk,” Fenny replied. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” she added and swept Lilly into her arms and carried her back into her room.

Gina stifled a yawn as she returned home and dropped a bag of clothes and shoes onto her bed. She was absolutely exhausted and had no desire to pretend to be happy over some ridiculously expensive dinner she didn’t really want. She was about to rifle through the bag of clothes she’s grabbed from her apartment on her way home when she nearly jumped a foot in the air. The doorbell ran properly and was considerably louder than she’d expected. She hurried to the front door and wasn’t all that surprised to see Vicki standing there.

“Hi,” she smiled. “Oh, you look like you’ve slapped by a fish.”

“Huh? Oh sorry, I’m tired and slightly grumpy,” Gina sighed. “Any idea why my doorbell is fixed?”

“Yeah, Paul popped round to use the phonebook. Apparently the possum catchers said that a few wires had been gnawed and needed replacing, and I guess he got the electrician to fix the doorbell too.”

“My god, that’s his first intelligent action in days,” Gina laughed and cheered up a little. “I hate to rush you, but I’m supposed to be going out to dinner,” she added and moved aside to let Vicki in.

“Dinner, huh? Romantic meal for two?” Vicki asked.

“No, more a catch up dinner with four in a posh restaurant.”

“So, doesn’t mean you can’t blow him away” Vicki grinned.

“Excuse me?” Gina mused.

“Stick on your sexiest frock, slap on some make-up, and you’ll be pleased to know in my previous life I was a hairdresser, so I’ll do something gorgeous with that disgustingly natural blonde hair. When you walk into the restaurant, his tongue will be on the floor.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, let’s just say I purchased some shower gel, and while the children were with friends, Scott and I discovered things about shower cubicles we never knew,” Vicki mused. “So, essentially he’s exhausted and I think I owe you one.”

“Well, I can give it a go,” Gina shrugged. “Whether it makes the slightest difference, who knows.”

“Oh, I think it’ll work…”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“What’s there to know other than the fact he never stops talking about you,” Vicki chided. “So go on, hurry up or you’ll be late.”

“Okay, okay, keep your knickers on…” Gina laughed.

“Jenny dear, I’m parched,” Aunt Jean said softly.

“Of course you are,” Jen soothed. “Greg, put the kettle on.”

“Shall I run to India and collect some fresh tea on the way?” Greg asked, raising an eyebrow. Both his wife and Aunt Jean frowned as there was a knock at the door. “Oh look, the cow’s here for me to milk,” he declared and marched out of the living room. He opened the door and was surprised to see a dishevelled and miserable Brad Sherwood on his doorstep.

“She threw me out,” Brad pouted.

“Sherwood, for fuck’s sake,” Greg gasped. “What did you do?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Brad replied.

“Fine, go home and talk to her about it then,” Greg scorned and went to close the door.

“I made it sound like her art wasn’t important,” Brad suddenly gushed.

“Oh dude, you’re in trouble,” Greg mused.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” Brad scorned. “Can I stay here the night.”

“Sure, you can bunk in with Aunt Jean.”

“Aunt Jean?”

“My nemesis,” Greg sighed. “Come in,” he added, moving aside to let Brad in.

“I’m really sorry about this, I just, I didn’t know where else to go,” Brad babbled.

“Wait here,” Greg ordered and walked back into the living room.

“Who was it?” Jen asked, looking up from where she was seated next to Aunt Jean on the couch.

“It’s Brad, he and Fen are having a few troubles, and he was hoping to stay the night…”

“Where? Aunt Jean is in the spare room,” Jen breathed.

“I don’t want a stranger staying here when I’m here,” Aunt Jean piped up.

“He’s not a stranger, he’s my very good friend,” Greg stated through clenched teeth.

“If Aunt Jean isn’t comfortable with it, then he can’t stay.”

“But Jen…”

“Gregory, it’s late, we’re all tired, just send him home. I’m sure they’re mature enough to make up,” Jen ordered.

“You don’t know them very well,” Greg scorned. “Although, I suppose she won’t send him to some hippie therapist,” he added under his breath.

“What was that?” Jen said quickly.

“Nothing dear, just practising my voodoo curse for Aunt Jean,” Greg sarced.

“How dare you insult my family,” Jen spat.

“She insults me!” Greg defended.

“She’s old and sick,” Jen snapped.

“She’s still alive, that’s not sick enough for me,” Greg snapped back. Aunt Jean nearly had a coronary and Jen was nearly shooting flames.

“In that case you can go and join you friend, because I don’t want you here!” Jen hissed and bustled him back out into the hall and slammed the living room door.

“So what did she say?” Brad asked with a small smile.

Fenny switched off the television and let out a yawn. Any other time she would have been in pools of tears and inconsolable. This time, however, she just felt angry with Brad, and although she knew they’d make up, she wanted him to stew and suffer for a while. She was plotting various methods of revenge when Mochrie started snuffling around the door.

“Trust you to want the bathroom when I’m thinking of going to bed,” she sighed and hunted out Mochrie’s leash. She checked to make sure Lilly was soundly asleep and then led Mochrie out of the apartment. She was shocked by the loud music emanating from Jenna’s apartment but if she was honest it wasn’t the first time, and she ignored it and took Mochrie to the nearest piece of lawn outside. After she pried the excitable mutt away from a discarded coke can, they headed back up in the elevator. Fenny could still hear the music. She paused to grab her key and then it clicked: mixed in with music was words and sounds that had nothing to do with a fancy bit of singing.

“You stupid fucking bitch.”

“Jett I’m sorry.”

“You’re too fucking stupid to do something like that.”

“I know, okay, just calm down, please.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“Please Jett I’m sorry, I won’t bring it up again.”

The music overshadowed whatever took place next and then Fenny heard the door and quickly slipped into her apartment. She let Mochrie go but kept the door open a crack. Jett staggered out rubbing his fist and slammed the door. He disappeared into the elevator and Fenny stepped back into the corridor. Everything was deathly silent apart from Jenna’s sobs, which made Fenny’s blood run cold.

“Gee I hope your wife hurries up, mate, I’m starving,” Mikey declared and looked over the menu for the billionth time.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” Laura mused, looking at her husband’s considerable girth and he looked at her sheepishly.

“I can live off my own fatty deposits.”

“You’re like your own food production system, that’s really freaky,” Paul mused and checked his watch. It was nearly 8 o’clock and he was starting to get paranoid that Gina wasn’t going to show.

“So how’s the renovating going? I’m dying to see your new house,” Laura piped up before Mikey started whining about food again.

“Not bad, actually. We got invaded by possums…”

“Mate, is that your wife?” Mikey gasped, motioning to Gina’s approaching form. Paul looked over his shoulder and nearly fell onto the floor. Next to Fenny, Gina was the most reluctant person to dress up. In fact, the only time Paul could remember her making a real effort was their wedding day. He could barely believe that the woman approaching the table in a figure hugging little black number with her hair glossy and loose was his wife.

“Hi, sorry I’m so late,” Gina gushed, noting not only the dazed look on Paul’s face, but the fact he was in his pinstripe suit.

“Not a problem, it’s great to see you,” Laura perked and nudged Mikey who smiled before looking for a waiter.

“Thanks for getting the doorbell fixed,” Gina smiled as she brushed her lips against Paul’s before taking her seat beside him.

“Doorbell?” Paul said blankly, still not looking away from her. “Oh, the doorbell yeah,” he suddenly perked, trying to hide his embarrassment for just sitting there ogling.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked, her hand creeping onto his thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Wonderful,” Paul swallowed. “We were discussing something, me and Laura…what were we discussing?”

“Possums,” Laura mused.

“That’s right, possums and how we were…Ah who cares,” Paul declared and finally managed to tear his eyes away from Gina to look at Mikey, who looked like he was about to crack a tantrum if he wasn’t served soon.

“Well, we can’t go back to my place because Fen’s likely to remove my testicles with a butterknife, and then have them deep fried and fed to starving children,” Brad sighed as he and Greg sat slumped in Brad’s car.

“And we can’t go back to my place because Jen is likely to attack me with various blunt objects before Aunt Jean takes to me with a cheese grater,” Greg groused.

“So what do we do?”

“Well I don’t have any cash, Fen kicked me out before I could grab anything other than my keys.”

“And Jen kicked me out with less than that.”

“We could sleep in the car,” Brad suggested.

“Together?” Greg winced.

“Oh come on, we’ve slept in worse situations,” Brad enthused. “I’ll park it back at the apartment, it’ll be safer there.”

“Can I have the back seat?”

“No, it’s my car, I get the back seat.”

“You won’t be comfortable. You’re too big.”

“Don’t whine or you can get out and find somewhere else to sleep,” Brad scorned.

“Fine, but if we’re mistaken as drive-by victims or lovers, I blame you,” Greg huffed.

“It’ll be almost like camping,” Brad perked.

“I hate camping,” Greg scowled. “Why would anyone want to get damp, cold and attacked by wildlife in some horrendously leafy area with no bathrooms?”

“It’s called adventure, Greg.”

“Well Brad, I like my adventure in the comfort of casinos with women in tiny outfits and lashing of alcohol.”

“You’re the only man who gets kidnapped and asks for a comb.”

“Get fucked,” Greg spat.

“Get fucked,” Brad mimicked and then sniggered as Greg shot him daggers. “Lighten up, buddy.” Brad pulled the car into the parking lot and killed the engine. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“So, how close are you to running back up there and begging Fen for forgiveness?” Greg asked.

“Why?” Brad asked.

“Cos I ain’t sleeping in your car, and at least at your place there’s a bed,” Greg declared.

Brad thought for a moment, “I’m still going to be confined to the couch you know.”

“Yeah, but I get a bed,” Greg perked as he slid out of the car.