9 – Playing the Bed Flute

“Oh my dear god,” Ryan gasped as he looked up from his plate of eggs to see Fenny, Greg and Ritza making there way into the hotel dining area.

“What?” Colin said blankly and then looked where his friend was pointing. “Oh.”

“Oh no, I was hoping she’d still be locked up,” Drew groaned into his coffee.

“She did save all our asses,” Chip said in a low voice. “We owe her that.”

“She’s tried to kill me,” Drew huffed. “I don’t want her anywhere near me.”

“Good morning,” Greg perked, sauntering over to the table as Fenny took a seat near Chip, and Jeff and Kathy joined the table as well.

“You all remember Ritza, don’t you,” Greg smiled.

“Of course we do,” Ryan chided.

“Bit hard to forget someone who’s held a gun to your head,” Drew mumbled.

“Speaking of which,” Ryan perked, “how’s your sister.”

“Still doing 26 to life,” Ritza shrugged as she sat down.

“That was very funny,” Jeff mused.

“No really, her sister is doing 26 to life,” Fenny nodded. Jeff looked a bit startled and buried his face in the menu.

“How’s the wound?” Ritza asked, looking over at Colin.

“Oh, it healed nicely, thank you,” Colin perked. “It’s lucky your lackeys were actually good shots.”

“They were trained by professional assassins,” Ritza nodded.

“It shows,” Colin agreed.

“Hey Fen, that’s your kid, isn’t it?” Chip piped up and motioned to Lilly who was being escorted by a hotel worker.

“She’s Brad’s kid, not mine,” Fenny corrected and twisted around in her chair as Lilly raced over.

“Where’s your daddy?”

“Sick,” Lilly said blankly.

“Great,” Fenny sighed as she noticed Lilly was still in her pajamas. “Thanks for bringing her down,” she added and gave the hotel worker a tip.

“Daddy said he wants to die,” Lilly declared as Fenny pulled her onto her lap.

“He’ll be ok, he’s just been a very silly man,” Fenny breathed.

“What do you want for breakfast, kid?” Greg piped up. “You can have anything you want.”

“Ice cream,” Lilly grinned.

“Except that,” Fenny declared.

“Don’t be mean, Fen, the kid deserves a treat after having to bear with her ass of a father,” Ryan declared.

Fenny let out a sigh. “What flavour ice cream?”

“Strawberry,” Lilly perked as Greg hailed a waitress.


Paul had just put the last stroke of Moroccan terracotta on one of the kitchen walls when he heard the front door slam. He stepped back to see Gina storming toward him.

“I’m going to kill the bitch,” she declared, dropping her bag on the counter.

“So the run through went well then?” Paul mused.

“I don’t know if I can work with her. I might just snap and ram my pen through her skull.”

“What did she say?” he asked, dropping the paintbrush onto a piece of newspaper.

“She wants me to go apartment hunting with her.”

“Shit, she does have a death wish,” he gasped. “Is she living some deluded fantasy or something?”

“She seems to think we’re best friends,” she grumbled and rubbed her temples.

“Ah well, don’t worry about it now,” he soothed, resting his hands on her arms. “You’ve at least got the weekend before you really have to deal with her.”

“The woman makes me tense,” she pouted and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. “You smell like paint.”

“That would be because I finished painting the kitchen,” he mused, deciding to lead the conversation away from Freya.

“Oh, did you?” she lifted her head and took a brief look around. “And you’re all scruffy and sweaty and sexy looking.”

“Sexy, huh?” he smiled.

“You’ve almost reached manly,” Gina teased as their lips edged closer. The room suddenly filled with the shrill ringing of a phone and both Paul and Gina let out a groan.

“We’ll be taking a raincheck on that kiss then?” he sighed as she pulled away to hunt the phone out of her bag.

“Hello?”

“Gina hi, it’s Freya.”

“How’d you get my number?”

“It’s on your business card.”

“How did you get my business card?”

“Are you going to be difficult?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“Well, I thought rather than wait, I’d go apartment shopping today.”

“And?”

“You said you’d come with me.”

“No, you said I’d go with you.”

“Does it matter who said what? Oh come on, it’ll be fun, just us girls.”

“Oh yeah, highlight of my life.”

“Well, it’s not like you were doing anything, was it?”

“Thirty seconds and I would have been,” Gina mumbled. “Look if I say yes will you go?”

“I certainly will, and you can pick me up in twenty minutes.”

Before Gina could argue she was greeted by the dial tone and let out a frustrated scream.

“Problems?” Paul asked.

“I’m going apartment shopping with Freya. Now,” Gina spat.

“Looks like that kiss is getting more than a raincheck,” he mumbled as she stormed back out of the house.


Fenny unlocked the hotel room door and ushered Lilly inside. It was pitch dark and Brad was still sprawled out in bed. She took Lilly into the bathroom, gave her a quick wash, and got her dressed before taking her back out to where Ritza was waiting.

“Thanks for looking after her this morning,” she breathed.

“It’s fine, Lilly and I will have a ball,” Ritza perked. “Won’t we?”

“Yeah!” Lilly grinned.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Fenny nodded and watched as Ritza and Lilly disappeared into the elevator. She walked back to her room and wasn’t surprised to see that Brad still hadn’t moved. He looked generally awful, which probably had as much to do with their fight as his raging hangover. Fenny sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him sadly. Her fingers instantly brushed the hair from his forehead and he finally stirred.

“Sorry,” he croaked and nuzzled into her leg.

“Are you okay?” Fenny asked softly.

“No, I’m dying, my wife hates me, and I don’t even know where my daughter is.”

“Your wife doesn’t hate you,” Fenny breathed. “And your daughter is with your ex-girlfriend.”

“You don’t hate me?” he groaned, rolling onto his back.

“No, but I’m worried about you,” she announced and got herself comfortable on the bed. “If you’re not coping with being a father and this is your way of coping with not coping, then I think we need to talk.”

He gave a dry laugh. “I love Lilly and I love being a father.”

“So what’s the problem?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “That you don’t love Lilly or love being a mom. I mean I know you’re trying and I really appreciate it, but you’re not happy. I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t fucked up by getting Ella pregnant, you’d be happier, and I know that’s right.”

She stopped stroking his hair and let his words wash over her. He was entirely right; she would be a hell of a lot happier if Lilly wasn’t part of their lives, but the kid meant so much to Brad. She remembered a conversation she’d had back in LA with Paul where he’d said that if Gina was happy he was happy. And Fenny suddenly realised what he’d been getting at. All the times she and Brad had argued, it was because neither would back down. Fenny loved him, even if he was an ass quiet frequently, and if having the brat around meant he was happy, then she could learn to be happy.

“What’re you thinking?” Brad asked, massaging his head.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Of course I love you,” he replied as he found enough strength to take her hand. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, so I’m not seeing a problem,” she breathed and snuggled down beside him.

“But what about Lilly?”

“Have I throttled her yet? No. and so long as she spends at least one weekend a month and school holidays with her mother it should stay that way.”

He gave a tired chuckle. “Thanks sweetie.”

“I’m serious, she’s going to her mom’s next weekend,” Fenny chided.

“Okay, I’ll call Ella once we’re back in LA,” Brad agreed. “Got anything planned in the near future?”

“Only lunch with Ritza and Lilly.”

“Will you lie with me until I fall into a coma?”

“I think I can manage that,” she mused, dropping a kiss on his cheek. For once she felt proud: they’d talked through their problems and it’d ended peacefully without the aid of the UN.


“This is the last one, I promise,” Freya beamed as she gave Gina what felt like her billionth set of directions. So far they’d looked at six different sterile, white apartments and Freya has gushed over them all. Gina had concluded her only hope was to convince the stupid bitch to buy one of the apartments, otherwise she feared she’d never get home to Paul.

“Here it is,” Freya perked and Gina felt her blood pressure increase. The building they had come to was the same building where Paul’s apartment was; not that it mattered too much, as he wasn’t living there for much longer.

“I just love the views from this place,” Freya perked as Gina followed her inside. There was a woman there to greet them and she instantly started on some spiel about how they were the best apartments in Sydney. Gina tuned out as she followed the two equally annoying women into the elevator and let her mind wander back to the previous night’s shower gel experimentation.

“Gina, are you even paying attention to what Sue is saying?” Freya huffed.

“Not really, I was thinking of nasty things to do to my husband,” Gina smirked and received daggers from Freya who marched into the vacant apartment.

“I love it, it’s perfect, I want it,” she declared.

“You don’t want to see the bathroom?” Sue asked, slightly shocked.

“No, I lived in one of these apartments with my boyfriend a while back,” Freya smiled sweetly.

“Will your boyfriend be moving in as well?” asked Sue.

“You never know,” Freya replied. “He’s in an unhappy relationship with another woman at the moment.”

“Is he really?” Gina piped up.

“Yes, she was overseas and I had to, ah, help him out a bit,” she said coyly. Gina clenched her fist and decided punching her work colleague, although therapeutic, wouldn’t really help matters. Instead she stormed out with the purpose of finding out what kind of ‘helping’ that wench had given Paul.

From: proopdog@hotmail.com

To: ginacoleman@hotmail.com

Subject: RE: Roses and Pixie Dust

 

Gina,

Firstly, I’ve made the mistake of trying to use a computer while I’m considerably hungover after a large tequila binge. Even worse, I’m at an internet café and not only is the coffee bad but people seem to think that just because you have glasses you’re some sort of cyberspace guru. If one more person comes up to me and asks about the state of the sever I will hurl my piss poor excuse for caffeine at them.

Secondly, I think you only need look at the man you married to see the results of someone who has drunkenly hurled themselves at hecklers, walls, passing cars, anything with or without a pulse really.

You have no idea how happy it makes me to find out bilbies and bandicoots are related, and I looked up that website you gave me the link for. My they sure are ugly, why on earth would you want to eat something that damn ugly at Easter? What’s wrong with traditional Easter chocolate goods like rabbits and eggs huh? Australians are just weird.

How’s the renovating going? Paul glued himself to anything yet? You do realise it wouldn’t be the first time if he has? I’m disturbed by Archie the axe-wielding gnome and by Paul’s obsession with disembodied heads and skeletal figures. I hope for your sake none of those things appear or stay too long in your house. Mind you, you are stuck with Troy for like ever…

I tried to be nice to my therapist, even tolerated Stuart the Hippie for two hours as we waited for my wife and you know what…SHE DIDN’T SHOW. This is the woman that deemed it necessary for us to have marriage counselling and yet she backs out because some annoying aunt is dying or something. How dedicated does that make her to our relationship huh?

I’ll sum up the whole Fen, Brad and Vegas thing for you. From what Fen has said she’s still opposed to Lilly even existing but I think she’s weakening or at least trying to keep the peace. Then Brad got himself hammered before the show last night and passed out. We talked Fen into taking his spot (she did fantastically by the way) but I think she’s going to berate Brad when he’s sober enough. Oh and believe it or not Ritza has reappeared, she’s not doing so well either. Gus’s dad has decided to make himself part of the kids life. So in the city of sex and sin everything is just how should be, totally and completely fucked up.

Now you in a showgirl outfit is something I do like, would you really do that? I’ll pay for the outfit and the photo opportunity? How am I supposed to go to lunch with that mental image huh? Even when you’re not here you fuck with me you naughty little minx.

By the way, I think Naru is an island in the South Pacific.

Love and tequila,

Speccy


“How you feeling?” Fenny asked sleepily as she nudged Brad awake.

“Better,” he replied equally as sleepily.

“Want to come to lunch then?”

“I couldn’t eat anything.”

“That’s okay, you can just have coffee,” Fenny sighed. “Besides, your daughter is worried about you.”

“Good point,” Brad nodded.

“I’m insisting you shower first, you stink.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he yawned and rolled out of bed. He staggered across the room and into the ensuite. Fenny lay on the bed for a few second before springing to her feet. It wasn’t often they got any alone time.

Brad was already in the shower and humming some unidentifiable song, and Fenny quickly stripped and slid into the shower behind him.

“Oh hello,” he mused as he felt her hands massaging his chest.

“Hi. Thought you might need a bit of help,” she smiled as he turned around.

“Well, if you’re insisting,” he smiled and then couldn’t fight a groan as she trailed kisses over his bare, wet flesh. “I’m liking this new, mature stance you’ve taken,” he smiled.

“Why?” she asked, her lips finding his shoulders and neck.

“Because if it’s less arguing and tears and more passion and sex, I’m all for it,” he breathed, his hands sliding up her wet back and gently caressing her skin.

“I just hope you can handle it,” Fenny purred. “I mean, with you in your delicate state and all,” she added and nipped at his chin.

“Maybe I should make you wait then,” Brad smiled before dipping his head to work on her neck. She felt her hormones run wild, and pressed herself as hard against him as she could. She was weakening with ecstasy when he pulled away. He stepped out of the shower panting and grabbed a towel. She let out a small cry of disappointment and quickly turned the water off.

“You can’t do that,” she gasped.

“I just did,” he mused, fastening the towel around his waist.

“That’s just cruel,” Fenny scorned, grabbing a towel. “We barely get any time together.”

“And you think any time we do should be spent screwing against the tiles?” Brad asked, feeling the stubble on his face.

“Maybe a little bit,” she cooed as she came up behind him and planted a kiss on his back, her fingers edging toward the tucked in bit of the towel.

“Hey,” he laughed and turned around, quickly grabbing her hands. “I think I’m going to make a stand.”

“Isn’t that what I’m asking?” Brad cocked his head to the side. “Sorry, too much Gina,” she smirked.

“I think since we’re taking our relationship to a new, mature level, we should take it upon ourselves to do more productive things than fuck whenever Lilly isn’t around,” Brad declared.

Fenny looked pained; “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” he nodded and turned around to face the mirror as he hunted for his razor.

“Well what else are we going to do?” she huffed.

“I don’t know, maybe we could go out and experience things like restaurants and bars.”

“I’ve been kidnapped, nearly raped, forced to prostitute myself and been involved in the disposal of a corpse,” Fenny scorned. “I’ve had enough experience, thank you.”

“Yes, well, I was thinking nicer things than that,” Brad sighed, smothering his face in shaving cream. “I’m still not wasting a perfectly good few hours having sex with you.”

“Wasting!” Fenny gasped and marched toward the door muttering, “at least a vibrator doesn’t expect you to do its washing.”

Catching her words, Brad stopped shaving and looked after her. “It wouldn’t leave love bites on your neck either.”


“What do you think of the colour?” Paul asked, looking to Troy who was perched on top of the stereo he’d decided to relocate from Gina’s with the help of Moonstar and her tie-dyed combi van. “I wasn’t sure about green either, but now it’s on I…” he paused as the front door slammed. “Is it wrong that just by her entrance I know she’s still pissed?”

“Why is my stereo here?” Gina spat as she marched into the master bedroom where Paul was painting.

“Troy wanted music,” Paul said blankly, noticing the venom in Gina’s expression.

“You’ll be pleased to know that skank found an apartment in the…”

“Same apartment block as me, I know,” Paul nodded. “Not that it matters because I don’t live there any more really…what?”

“How did you know?”

Paul flapped about for a moment, “Well, you see, she ah, well…she called me to say how excited she was.”

Gina let out a growl. “That bitch.”

“I told her I was thrilled and hung up,” he nodded.

“Right, so ah, darling,” she began and crossed her arms. He instantly knew whatever she said was not going to be good. “How did she ‘help’ you when I was away?”

“I have no idea what that mad woman is…”

“Don’t lie to me, McDermott.”

He winced, “Remember I said I was very, very drunk, embalmed almost, and I said she crawled into bed with me, naked?”

“You fucked her?”

“NO!” he almost shrieked. “No, she, well, she kinda,” he closed his eyes. “She played the bed flute.”

Gina’s hand flew to her mouth, “That’s disgusting.”

“You’ve played quite a few tunes on the bed flute.”

“I’m your wife, I can have a whole fucking symphony,” she snapped.

He held the paint-covered roller up to keep her at bay and then realised she wasn’t actually moving, worse she was fighting back tears.

“Sorry,” he said feebly, knowing it really meant nothing.

“I can’t believe you let her do that,” she said quietly.

“Well, we haven’t exactly had the most monogamous marriage in the world,” he sighed and dropped the roller back into the container of paint.

“The second one was doing pretty well,” Gina mumbled as she used her palms to rub her eyes. “She said you were in an unhappy relationship. Was she right?”

“No, god no,” he exclaimed and almost leapt across the room to her. “I love you and I’m very happy. Look, I’ve been painting our new bedroom Zambezi green all afternoon.”

she let out a heavy sigh, “I wish I could hate you.”

“Can’t hate me more than I already hate myself,” he breathed.

Gina started backing away from him, “That one hurt.”

Paul listened as her footsteps descended down the hall and the front door closed before he let out a frustrated scream and his foot went straight into the tray of green paint. “This is your fault,” he snapped at Troy.