29 – I Find Traces of You

Gina glanced around her rapidly decreasing bedroom, her heart a little despondent over leaving her beloved apartment. She then focussed her attention back at a box she’d found stuffed in her wardrobe between a collection of shoeboxes and a horrendous vase someone had given her as a wedding present.

The box contained various things she’d hoarded during her relationship with Paul, from spare wedding invitations to absurd rambling letters and almost obscene drawings. Gina’s fingers fell upon a brightly coloured postcard of women in bikinis from Brisbane and flipped it over.

Dear Genie,

It’s hot and I’m sweating like a pig. It’s like my armpits have been taken over by Niagara Falls and I’m sitting in my air conditioned hotel room and all. It’s just occurred to me I have no idea where the post office is and I don’t like using postcards because some pervy post prick can read everything you write. Why the hell am I not just emailing you?

Don’t bother reading this when you get it, I’ll e-mail you instead!

Love you, missing you, be home soon.

Paul

P.S. Mikey passed out on my bed and the only way I can sleep is if we spoon!

 

“What you laughing at?” Paul mused, appearing at the door.

“Your stupidity,” Gina smiled. “You’re so insanely cute sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Paul breathed as he swaggered across the room and fell onto the bed.

“How’d rehearsals go?” she asked as she perused more of the box’s contents.

“Mieke did the entire thing on her knees just to spite me,” he replied, staring at the ceiling.

“Why do I have a condom from Portugal?” she giggled, holding up the small plastic packet for Paul to see.

“Like I can remember,” he shrugged. She dropped the condom and turned to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, pushing the box aside and laying down.

“Nothing,” he replied. “I’m just tired.”

“You sure?” she pouted, propping herself up on one elbow.

“I’ll double check, shall I?” Paul half-smiled.

“Okay, well I found something that might cheer you up anyway,” Gina perked and rolled over, picked up a book from the bedside table, and rolled back over to hand it to Paul.

A Lover’s Guide to the Kama Sutra,” Paul read and smiled. “We never did thank your mum for the wedding present.”

“Mostly because you hid the book out of sheer mental trauma,” Gina giggled. “All I remember is you wailing about how my unorthodox mother had destroyed your libido for the best part of the century.”

“It’s a big fucking difference between the Kama Sutra and the nice napkin set my mother bought us,” he chided as he opened the book and started looking at the pictures.

“Hey, I use those napkins all the time,” she countered. “We’ve never used the book.”

He raised an eyebrow his lips forming a lecherous grin, “Well, there’s no time like the present.”


Brad stepped back and admired his handiwork, or at least the rough cutting back of some geraniums that had taken over the back fence and discovered to his surprise that the plant wasn’t even in the same garden he was. He dropped the secateurs onto a clear patch of lawn and decided to make a start on some discarded bricks that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. He had half of them stacked neatly against the fence and was reaching for another when something brown and furry bounced up.

“SHIT,” he yelped, dropping the brick. “Mice bounce here, that’s so wrong.” He fretted for a moment as he considered whether to continue the job or run away like a girl, when several more bouncing mice appeared and he let out a squeal.

“What on earth are you doing?” Vicki asked, poking her head over the fence. She’d been in her own backyard hanging washing, or at least that’d been her excuse.

“No one told me mice bounce here!” he squealed.

“They’re hopping mice, honey,” she smiled. “Don’t kill them, they’re native.”

“I hadn’t planned on killing them,” he gasped. “I could never kill another living creature…I think.”

“Looks like you don’t have to,” Vicki mused as Lewis appeared at Brad’s feet with a dead mouse in his mouth.

“What? Oh, Lewis, go eat that somewhere else.” The cat gave a muffled mew and pranced off to the verandah. “Dirty little…”

“You look hot,” Vicki piped up.

“Why thank you,” Brad grinned and posed for a moment.

“Modest too,” Vicki chided as Brad quickly dealt with the last few bricks. “Do you want a drink or something?”

Brad straightened up and ran the back of his hand over his forehead. Vicki had to stop herself from verbalising the ‘Pworrr’ that was going through her head; after all she was a married woman. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Sweetie, we’re supposed to be at mother’s,” Scott groused as he poked his head out of the backdoor.

“Huh?” Vicki mumbled. “Oh right, yes, coming darling,” she called back. “I’ll, um, talk to you later.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds,” Brad teased as Vicki disappeared. “You know Bradley, you spend a few hours gardening and the women folk just fall over you,” he added before accidentally lobbing a rose bush in half.


Fenny unlocked the door to Gina’s apartment and sauntered into the hallway. She’d taken a long walk back in the hot sun and still hadn’t managed to rid the butterflies in her stomach that the merest thought of Danny created. She headed toward the bathroom and stopped when she heard squeals of laughter from Gina’s room.

“Wait, wait, I’m supposed to be kneeling,” Paul’s voice cackled.

“Well hurry up, my pelvis is about to snap,” Gina giggled.

Fenny shook her head and approached the door which was ajar. She poked her head around it to see Paul with his back to her, on his knees while Gina was on her back with her feet on his shoulders, her knees together and a pained expression on her face.

“I don’t even want to know what you’re doing,” Fenny declared.

“The Kama Sutra,” Paul grinned and let go of Gina’s ankles.

“Aren’t you supposed to be naked to do that?” Fenny queried.

“Wouldn’t it be slightly more traumatic for you if we were?” Gina breathed as she rubbed her back.

“Good point,” Fenny nodded, wandering over to the bed. “Is that your wedding album?” she added, noticing a thick white album on the edge of the bed.

“That would be why the words ‘Our Wedding’ are written in big letters on the cover,” Paul teased, falling back onto the pillows.

“Can I look?” Fenny asked, picking up the album. Gina nodded. “Oh wow, you two look like cake decorations.”

“Thanks Fen,” Paul chided.

“How was the beach?” Gina asked.

“Oh, you know, sandy and wet,” Fenny shrugged. “Oh my, who are those miserable looking people?”

“My parents,” Paul scorned.

“Sorry,” Fenny winced.

“Did you get any sketching done?” Gina pressed as Paul rested his head on her shoulder and she absentmindedly started toying with his hair.

“No, Steve just wanted to tan,” Fenny jeered.

“Isn’t she a terrible liar?” Gina sighed.

“The worst,” Paul agreed.

“Danny looks different, huh?” Gina perked.

“What? How would I know?” Fenny gasped.

“In the wedding photos,” Gina mused.

“My, that was subtle,” Paul giggled.

Fenny closed the album. “Can I talk to you?” she winced.

“Sure, hon,” Gina breathed. “Shoot.”

“Alone.”

“No, whatever you have to say you can say in front of Paul,” Gina smiled.

“Yeah,” Paul grinned, draping an arm over his wife’s stomach.

Fenny looked at them both pained for a moment. “I met Dan at the beach and was half a pheromone away from doing it with him on the sand in front of a group of surfers, a volleyball team, and several five-year-olds eating ice cream.”

“Ohh, kinky,” Paul chided.

“So why didn’t you?” Gina asked as Paul distracted himself from the conversation by averting his attention back to the open Kama Sutra book.

“No idea,” Fenny shrugged. “I mean I wanted to. I still want to.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“I know, but he’s so…I can’t even put it into words…” Fenny whined. “Do you know what it’s like to have a guy who just, just knows how to push your buttons?”

“I think I might have some idea,” Gina nodded as she tried not to crack up at the various animal noises Paul was making as he looked over the book.

“So what do I do? I can’t avoid him, he’s your friend,” Fenny huffed. Gina pondered a moment.

“Hon, go read the book in the kitchen,” she announced, patting Paul’s head.

“What happened to whatever you have to say can be said in front of Paul?” he asked, pouting as he sat.

“Trust me, this is one of those conversations you don’t want to hear,” Gina nodded. “Up there with menstruation, babies, and old people having sex.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul sighed, grabbing the Kama Sutra book and heading out of the bedroom door. “Anyone want tea?”

“Yeah, but the kettle is at home,” Gina giggled.

“Fine, I’m going on a mission to find tea,” Paul declared from down the hallway.

“Paul,” Fenny called and he bounded back up the hall and poked his head around the door.

“Yes,” he said blankly.

“While you’re out, can you pick me up a muffin or something,” Fenny smiled.

“I’ll have a doughnut,” Gina added.

“Oh, that’s right, I’m just your slave now! No, Paul’s not good enough to join in the conversation,” Paul huffed as he headed back down the hall and they listened as he kept grumbling out of the front door. “No, all Paul’s good for is traipsing halfway around town to get tea and baked goods and no one gives me any cash or thanks me…”


“Oh man,” Greg hissed through his teeth. His head was pounding and his memories of the previous evening were a blur. He rubbed his eyes as the realisation that he had no idea where he was washed over him.

“Why did we ever move onto the tequila?” Jenna groaned as she handed Greg his glasses and flopped down into an armchair. Greg slid his glasses on and felt a chill run down his spine when he noticed Jenna was only in a tiny pair of panties and a singlet.

“Oh no, tell me I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Jenna shrugged, pulling her long legs under her. “Oh!” she giggled, realising what he meant. “No, you passed out and I went to bed.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he breathed. “I have a habit of having illicit affairs when I’m wasted.”

“Really? All you did was talk about Gina,” she mused. “Kind of makes you wonder why you’re not still with her.”

“Gina? I talked about Gina?” he gasped.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “Maybe you could win her back and then I can have Paul.”

“Ha,” Greg laughed and then wished he hadn’t. “You’ve never seen those two. The only thing that comes between them is a thin layer of sweat.”

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” she chided.

“Sure. And believe me, it’s a nice thought,” he nodded.

“Anything has to be better than…well…” her voice trailed off. “Do you want your aspirin before or after your coffee.”

“Better give me the aspirin first,” he breathed, massaging his temples.

“You better hope I’ve got some,” she chided, pulling herself out of the chair and heading for the bathroom. Greg lay back down and was promptly sat upon my Jaguar, who mewed, clawed, and then settled between his thighs.

“I really want to make a pussy joke…” he sighed. He closed his eyes and listened to Jenna looking for aspirin when the lock on the door opened.

“JENNA!” an unfamiliar voice yelled.

“Oh fuck,” Jenna gasped and skidded out of the bathroom. “JETT!”

“What the fuck have you been doing? You look like shit,” he snapped, dropping his bag on the floor and resting his guitar against the wall.

“I was drinking,” Jenna swallowed.

“Drinking? You were drinking my fucking booze,” Jett spat.

“Ahh, fucking cat,” Greg yelped as he felt Jaguars claws press into his nether regions.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jett gasped, watching Greg push the cat onto the floor. Greg opened his mouth to speak but Jett turned his attention back to Jenna. “Have you been fucking around behind my back?”

“No,” she yelped, shaking her head frantically. “We were just talking, that’s all, I swear.”

“Fucking slut,” Jett hissed and stalked toward her. Greg felt his blood start to boil. While normally he wouldn’t go within ten feet of Jenna, she’d been nice company when he needed it, and right now she looked terrified and he had no time for a guy who beat his girlfriend because he could.

“Hey, lay off her,” Greg demanded, unsteadily getting to his feet.

“Who the fuck asked you?” Jett snapped, turning his attention to Greg. “You gonna hit me, four eyes?”

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, and had my life threatened in three continents, buddy,” Greg sneered. “You lay a finger on her and I’ll brain you with the empty tequila bottle.”

“Why don’t you fuck off, huh?” Jett snarled and then glared at Jenna. Greg gingerly reached for the tequila bottle and Jett roughly grabbed Jenna’s arm. Suddenly Mochrie bolted into the room and dove straight at Jett, her jaws latching onto his crotch.

“Oh ahh,” Greg winced and Jett loud out a blood curdling scream.

“Mochrie!” Jenna gasped. “Good girl!”

“Women of the world unite,” Greg agreed as Mochrie released Jett’s testicles and sat protectively at Jenna’s feet.

“Get a doctor, please,” Jett panted.

“Nuh,” Jenna declared stepping over him. “I was going to make coffee, wasn’t I?”

“Huh?” Greg gasped. “Yes, yes you were,” he added, putting the tequila bottle back on the coffee table.


“So, what do I do?” Fenny sighed, crawling up the bed and lying next to Gina.

“See, this is where I have trouble giving you sound advice,” Gina pouted. “I should be telling you that you have a duty to be loyal to Brad…”

“But?”

“I spent a lot of time with Dan in Britain, and he is really hung up on you. I mean I’ve know Dan a long time, and I’ve never seen him so besotted with someone,” Gina declared. “His only serious relationship was with Sam, and he fell for you over her, and there’s not really been another prominent woman in his life.”

“Apart from you,” Fenny countered.

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh come on, how long have you been friends with him? You don’t think it’s a bit strange that a guy like Danny, who is single, would do just about anything for you even when you’re so very married?”

“Men and women can be friends, Fenella.”

“So you’ve never been attracted to him?”

“Of course I have, he’s gorgeous,” Gina laughed. “That’s why it’s nice to have him as a friend.”

“I can’t believe you had him at your mercy and ended up with Paul. Not that there’s anything wrong with Paul,” Fenny mused.

“Okay, see, now you’ve completely distracted the conversation,” Gina cussed. “Remember how you asked earlier about guys who know how to push all your buttons? Well Paul’s that guy for me.”

“Right, so how does that help me with Danny?” Fenny asked with a grin.

“I’m not opposed to smothering you with a pillow,” Gina replied. “It’s all up to you. Danny is mad about you and you obviously still have some pretty intense feelings toward him.”

“I know, but I’m a married woman and love my husband,” Fenny whined.

“Well what you would prefer? To die without ever knowing, or to continue your adulterous relationship? I haven’t forgotten Scotland you know.”

“Do you regret your fling with Greg?” Fenny asked, propping herself up on her elbows and looking casually at Gina.

“No, never,” Gina smiled. “And I ended up with the man I really love, so it all worked out.”

“You and Paul are so happy it’s nauseating,” Fenny teased.

“Yeah, I wish,” Gina sighed.

“Well, you looked happy when I walked in.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Gina said quietly. “I know him too well to know he’s not happy but he keeps denying it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Fenny soothed. “So long as he hasn’t like, well you know, with Freya again.”

“FEN!” Gina yelped, grabbing her pillow. “Oh, for even uttering that you’re getting smothered!”

“NO!” Fenny giggled, holding up her hands to hold the pillow back as Gina straddled her, the pillow clutched tightly in her hands.

“You know, I was angry but now I’m very happy,” Paul grinned, appearing at the door.

“Shall we strip down to our underwear and cover ourselves in oil as well?” Fenny squealed as they both lost concentration and the pillow fell onto the floor.

“Oh, don’t stop,” Paul pouted. “I’ll run and get the oil and you get back to it.”

“How about we call a truce and just kill him?” Gina suggested, crawling off of Fenny.

“Deal,” Fenny agreed as they both got to their feet.

“You wouldn’t hurt a man who brought you beverages, would you?” Paul peeped, placing the tea and bakery bags on the dresser. The girls stepped towards him and Paul took off down the hall.


Danny pulled on the ‘Network Ten’ t-shirt he was permitted to wear as a sport reporter and happily looked at his reflection in the mirror.

“What are you doing?” Freya sighed, waltzing into the room. “You’re supposed to be in a shirt and tie.”

“I thought I was just reporting from the cricket?” Danny pouted.

“No, you’re the sports presenter tonight.”

“No,” Danny whined. He was working weekends, stuck with Freya, and now he had to wear a tie. He pondered if his day could possibly get any worse, and then he remembered Fenny all but breaking his heart. He decided it couldn’t.

“Do you think this says a late shower?” Freya asked, motioning to her grey slacks and pale blue top.

“I’m thinking it’s more a shower or two outfit,” he chided.

“Oh really? Oh no,” she gasped. “Should I change?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he muttered as he grabbed a shirt and tie from the rack of clothes available.

“So, how was your day?”

“I had my heart torn in half and stamped upon,” he groused, hoping she would take it as a sign to go away. She didn’t.

“Oh, well you’ll never guess who I ran into today,” she perked, sitting herself in the empty make-up chair.

“Satan maybe?” he chided.

“Oh ha,” Freya scorned. “Paul, we ran into each other in a café.”

“So?” Danny shrugged.

“So, everything is going to plan, Daniel,” she smiled. “He’s coming to my place for dinner tonight.”

“Really?” he gasped, not sure whether Freya was telling the truth or if she’d really just lost her mind.

“Yeah. He was a bit edgy, but that’s nothing new,” she gushed, almost bouncing to her feet. “Gina has nothing on me,” she added before skipping out of the room.

“She’ll have a fucking noose around your neck when she finds out,” Danny breathed.


“I think it’s bruised,” Paul whined as the three of them bustled through the door of the house.

“Oh, stop whining,” Fenny chided.

“You both beat me up,” Paul wailed. “I have every right to whine.”

“Such a girl,” Gina teased. “I wonder if Sherwood has landscaped the back garden yet?”

“I wonder if he’s still shirtless and sweaty,” Fenny grinned.

“You two just treat him like a piece of meat,” Paul chided and headed for the kitchen.

“What cut?” Gina pondered.

“Rump,” Fenny giggled as she made her way to the back door. She found Brad perched on the verandah trying to clean the old push mower. “Where did you find that?”

“Under some overgrown flora,” Brad shrugged as Fenny sat beside him. “Thought I’d try and clean it up a bit.”

“Is there any metal left under the rust?”

“I’m starting to think there’s not,” he mused. “How was the beach?”

“Wet,” she replied. “Wasn’t much fun without you there.”

“Well being attacked by bouncing mice wasn’t much fun without you.”

“Bouncing mice?”

“That was in between being leered at by the neighbour, Vicki.”

“Oh really? Well, looks like you’re not allowed to get shirtless and sweaty without my supervision from now on,” Fenny mused. “I don’t want to come back and find you butt naked in the long grass with some horny housewife.”

“Unless it’s you,” he smiled.

“I’m not getting butt naked in the grass,” she countered and playfully smacked his arm.

“Oh, husband beater,” he gasped and then pulled her down on top of him. They giggled and fell into a slow kiss. Fenny’s hands caressed Brad’s bare flesh and his took handfuls of her hair. “You smell like the sea.”

“Is that bad?” she breathed.

“No,” he whispered. “Because I’m dirty and you’re dirty…”

“You’re filthy,” she giggled and kissed him again.

“Want to help me get clean?” Brad asked raising an eyebrow.

“Only if you help me,” Fenny smiled running a finger to the waistband of his pants.


“Should I do fish or chicken for dinner?” Gina asked and then paused as the backdoor opened and there were footsteps and hushed voices. The bathroom door opened and closed and there was muffled giggling.

“Obviously we’ve forgotten about Dan,” Paul mused.

“Yeah,” Gina nodded, placing the frozen fish into the microwave to defrost it. “So, what do you want with your fish, huh?” she added, wandering over to Paul who had gone back to flipping through the Kama Sutra book.

“What fish?” he asked, confused. She took the book off him and dropped it on the counter and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“The fish I’m cooking for dinner.”

“Oh, I was going out.”

“Do you have to?” she pouted. “You said you were tired, and I know you’ve got to get up early for the final run through tomorrow.”

“I know, but I kinda promised Mikey,” he winced as the microwave pinged. Gina rolled her eyes and let go of him to check the fish.

“Yeah, yeah,” she chided as she hunted out the electric frying pan. She paused and turned to look at him. “I love you.”

“I know,” he replied, slightly amused.

“No, I’m serious, I don’t say it often enough,” she cooed. “You love me right?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled.

“Say it,” Gina begged, and Paul shook his head and walked over to her.

“I love you, I do,” he sighed and brushed his lips against hers.

“Do you really have to go?”

“Yeah. Is there a reason you’re getting all girlie on me all of a sudden?”

“Just being insecure,” she shrugged as he wrapped her up in a hug and gave her a quick squeeze.

“I won’t be late,” he promised and grabbed his wallet on the way to the door. She shook her head and went back to preparing dinner.