“Of course, you don’t have children, so you wouldn’t understand…” Rae sighed. “I mean have you ever tried to spice things up when a four-year-old decides to climb in between you?”

“You and Scott did it in the shower?” Denise gasped, looking blankly at Vicki.

“Oh yeah,” Vicki grinned. “It was fantastic, the first time we’d done it in like eighteen months or something.” Gina nearly choked on the pretzel she was eating; she could barely imagine Paul holding off for a week, let alone a year and a half. “Gina is full of great ideas, aren’t you?” Vicki added, nudging her.

“It’s really not that hard,” Gina shrugged. “Excuse the pun.”

“Any tips on how I might get George to spend more time with me and less time at the office and working on his car?” Janet asked curiously.

Gina pondered a moment. “Well firstly you have got to stop being so selfish. I’m sorry but he’s obviously got a lot on at the office, and if you’re harping on at him it’s really not going to help. Try and be a bit more understanding of his needs for a change. Working on his car is his outlet, it’s his escape, and you shouldn’t stop him from doing that. Perhaps you need to find a hobby too, and find some things you like doing together, even if it’s just watching television. Once you start to communicate and the burden of work and family lifts from his shoulders, then you’ll both be happier and want to spend time together.”

“Oh, you go girl,” Vicki giggled. “Do Denise now.”

“Denise, if you think Oliver is having an affair, then he probably is. I’ve been there and it’s not a pleasant experience. And I’ve also done the cheating. You can work through it, though as I said to Janet, you have got to communicate. He still comes home to you at night, which means he still loves you. The best method of making sure it stays that way: give the kids to their grandparents, get your hair done, splash out on some sexy lingerie and blow his flute until he’s screaming your name to the light fittings.”

“Yuck, I’d never indulge in oral sex,” Denise gasped.

“No wonder he’s having an affair,” Vicki cackled until she hiccupped.

“Meg, same goes for you, but don’t pressure Nick, make it so he has to beg for it. Alternatively, I recommend surprising your man by doing thing when he least expects it. Make him eat his breakfast off your stomach, cook it naked, give him one before work. He’ll have you bent over the breakfast bar before the kettle boils.”

“I so have to try that,” Vicki mused. “See, I told you she was good.”

“So, you whore yourself to your husband to get him to do what you what?” Rae said somewhat crudely.

“No,” Gina mused. “I don’t have to, he loves me,” Gina countered.

“All our husbands love us. Well, except Denise’s. Still doesn’t mean they do the things we’d like,” Meg shrugged.

“No, but her Pauly, he worships the ground she walks on,” Vicki chirped. “We overheard them talking the other morning. It was so sweet, said he loved her completely.” The women cooed and awed and Gina looked horrified.

“You did what?” she gasped.

“Sorry,” Vicki smiled. “But it was so cute. You guys are so cute. You don’t see the way he looks at you or hear how much he talks about you.”

“He’s also incredibly hot,” Denise sighed as the other women looked at her. “Well someone had to say it.”

“What are you giggling at?” Brad yawned as he wandered into the study where Fenny was perched at the computer.

“Paul and Gina. I swear those two are a danger to society,” Fenny laughed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at class?” he queried.

“I’ve still got twenty minutes,” she sighed. “Just thought I’d check my e-mail.”

“I’m assuming they’re well?”

“Well, physically they are. Mentally I’m slightly concerned. They got their names tattooed on their butts!”

“Had that been anyone else I might have been surprised.”

“They sent a photo of said tattoos as an attachment but I’m slightly frightened to open it.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t leapt at the opportunity to see Paul’s bare buns of steel.”

“Everyone so needs to get over that. And anyway, I’m sure you just want to see Gina’s naked butt.”

“Seen it,” he smiled. “We skinny dipped, remember.”

“Oh yeah, so did we,” she paused. “You know, I think Gina has a skinny dipping fetish.”

“Do you hear me complaining?”

“No. Anyway,” she sighed, getting to her feet, “I’d better get going.”

“Yes, don’t want to keep your students waiting,” Brad agreed.

“Not going to come and sit in?” Fenny pouted, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Actually, I might skip tonight. There’s a Baywatch marathon on cable,” Brad mused.

“Well don’t get eyestrain watching all those fake breasts bouncing about,” she chided and tilted her head up so he could kiss her.

“You miss Paul and Gina a lot, don’t you?” he smiled when they broke apart.

“Yeah, course I do, they’re my best friends,” she sighed. “Why?”

“No reason, I’ve just noticed you almost glow after hearing for them.”

“Maybe happiness is catching,” Fenny said as she kissed Brad again before leaving.

“Maybe it is,” he breathed, noticing she’d left the computer on.

Paul had slumped further toward the table, forcing him to prop his head up with both hands and try desperately to be interested in the conversation, which revolved mostly around rugby league.

“You look tired, mate,” Scott mused, sucking on what was probably his 500^th beer.

“I had a late one last night,” Paul replied.

“Yeah, what made it so late?” Scott asked the other men listening in.

“Ah, we went out didn’t get home until dawn,” Paul replied.

“Mate, I’ve got six-month-old twins, you don’t know what tired is,” Olli/Nick jeered.

“I don’t know,” Paul shrugged. “Being chased by viscous drug-dealing psychos around Europe fucks you up a bit.” The men looked at Paul and then broke out into laughter. They assumed he was being humorous, and he was prepared to let them believe that. A roar suddenly went up and Paul took it to mean the right team had won the match, and the conversation fell back to how fantastic the team were, how brilliant Macca played, and how the other team were a bunch of pathetic pillow biters.

“Think we’ll beat the Eels next week?” Oliver grinned, looking around the table. There were various cheers of ‘bloody oath’ before all eyes went back to Paul.

“I don’t know who the Eels are, and I don’t particularly care for rugby, and I fear you might break all my limbs if I don’t agree with you,” Paul said blankly.

“S’all right, McDermott,” Scott slurred. “He’s more the arty type.”

“Not gay, are you?” Nick/Olli gasped.

“No, I would think my wife would be proof of that,” Paul sighed.

“Oh,” George nodded. “We’ll just have to convert you then. What do you say fellas. Get McDermott to have a game with us?”

Paul went wide-eyed: the men he was sitting with were all large, swarthy men, and he’d be killed instantly should one of them fall on his small, hairy body.

“What d’you reckon, huh?” Scott grinned as he nudged Paul.

“While the idea of having my head pummelled into the ground would be tempting if I had been drinking heavily, I have far too many rugby-based memories that I’ve managed to repress from my youth. So no, I think I’ll pass you up on that one and just go home and make love to my wife over and over again,” Paul declared.

“Ha,” George laughed. “No married man gets decent sex, it’s common knowledge.”

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Paul mused, finishing the last of his beer. “Me and the wife have done things that’d make you blush.”

“Well, there’s something to think about next time you tune into the news,” Nick/Olli mused.

“You guys have no idea,” Paul giggled. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to get a hard on when you’re listening to a story on mining in Kakadu?”

“I’m sure we will now,” Sam cackled and then noticed Paul glaring at him. “What? Your wife is hot.”

“That’s right, and she’s my wife,” Paul scorned. “So, no lewd thoughts about her, fellas. I don’t want to hear you’ve been playing with little Elvis while watching the news.”

“I think,” Scott announced drinking the last of his beer, “It’s time to go home and see our lovely wives.”

“Can’t we just go and see Pauly’s lovely wife?” George mused.

“Oh fellas,” Paul groaned and buried his face in his hands as they burst into drunken laughter.

“…And then I have to grab the leading lady, wipe away her tears and stick my tongue down her throat,” Josh perked as he grabbed Fenny in his arms and jokingly acted out the scene he’d been rehearsing all day.

“You know,” Fenny giggled. “This would be slightly less disturbing if you weren’t butt naked.”

“I thought you were at ease with the naked body?” he asked, letting her go and flexing his muscles.

“Doesn’t mean I want to be that close to yours,” she replied, turning back to her desk as she heard the bustling of the students.

“Your significant other not making an appearance tonight?” he mused as he prepared to pose.

“No, he’s watching a Baywatch marathon, apparently.”

“Great, now I’m going to be butt naked thinking of Pamela Anderson…we’re concentrating on the back today, right?”

“Well, for fear you might startle some of the older members of the class if you can’t get Baywatch out of your head, then yes,” Fenny mused as the students started to set up.

“I thought I was going to be late,” announced an older woman. “Been having trouble with the water works, if you know what I mean.”

Fenny smiled politely and had to fight a smile. All she needed was someone looking suspicious behind their easel and she’d be forced to kill Paul for being right.

Brad logged off the internet feeling proud of himself and padded into the living room to hunt out the Baywatch marathon. He’d just gotten comfortable on the couch when the phone rang.

“Oh man,” he groaned and rolled off the couch to answer it. At first he thought it was a wrong number with the amount of background noise and was ready to hang up until the caller spoke.

“Played any poker recently?” the strong English accent asked.

“Beven…Beven is that you?” Brad gasped, the horrible realisation that everything that happened just over a month ago was still very real.

“Me and about 14 million Chinese.”

“Where have you been? Why are you calling? How did you get my number?”

“I’ve been laying low, I’ve missed your startling company, and I’m a trained hitman, I can get whatever I want.”

“You’re just being sarcastic, right?”

“Believe what you want ,man.”

“So, how are things?”

“Not bad considering I betrayed a mob boss.”

“Have you been back to London?”

“No, you?”

“God no, and I can’t look at a pack of cards now without shuddering.”

“That’s probably a good thing, you know,” Beven mused. “How are your friends?”

“Fine. Paul still has the bloody mongoose, got it repaired and everything.”

“And your wife and little girl?”

“Slowly forming an alliance against me,” Brad chuckled. “How’s Toby?”

“Palmed off on his grandparents. I’m heading back to get him in a few days.”

“So, it’s safe for you to go back to London?”

“It’s not,” the conversation was lost by some rather loud screaming in Chinese “Sorry, I’m at a bar and the patrons are fucking noisy. As I was saying, it’s not too bad. I think a lot of people were glad to see McIver go.”

“Me included.”

“According to a friend of mine, they reckon it was a rival hitman that did it.”

“They never worked out it was you?”

“What? I never killed Don. I mightn’t like the man, but I never killed him,” Beven laughed. “I thought one of you guys did it?”

“Oh yeah, like one of us is a cold blooded killer.”

“Are you saying it’s not possible? Ritza’s killed before, Paul shot him once, and Gina is inherently spontaneous.”

“Don’t put fucked up ideas like that in my head.”

Beven laughed again as more orders were yelled in Chinese. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go before one of these mad fucks tries to attack me with a bottle of rice wine.”

“Oh please, you could knee cap them all.”

“Flatterer,” Beven chided. “I’m thinking of finding somewhere new for me and Toby to start again. Was thinking of visiting you, what do you think?”

“That’d be fantastic, and I’m sure Toby could do with somewhere better than where he is now,” Brad agreed. “But I’ve got a better idea, buddy…”

“You know the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone. Only seven flying hours, and I’ll be landing in Hong Kong. There ain’t nothing like the kisses from a jaded Chinese princess. I’m gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long”

“Dear god, they’re singing ‘Khe Sahn’,” Vicki gasped and the ominous sound of the song most commonly sung by drunken Australian men resonated from the front porch.

“I’ve never worked out why a song about Vietnam is so popular,” Meg sighed.

“I’m surprised they actually know the lyrics,” Janet added as the door flew open and the men all but staggered in. Apart from Paul, who swaggered in behind them looking slightly embarrassed.

“Have fun, did we?” Denise huffed as the men swayed slightly, looking at the women lecherously.

“I’m just going to take the boys out to the shed, show ’em my new saw,” Scott declared and led the way toward the back door.

“He doesn’t have a new saw,” Vicki pouted. “Just a fridge full of beer.”

Paul decided against consuming anymore alcohol and looked over at Gina, who was slumped on the couch looking bored to the point of wanting to drown herself in a large bowl of pretzels.

“Not going with the others?” Janet asked, curiously reaching for her half-empty glass of wine.

“No, think I’ll pass,” Paul smiled. “I kinda want to spend some time with my wife.”

“Why?” Rae sighed. “That can’t possibly be normal.”

“I haven’t seen her since late this afternoon, I miss her,” Paul said blankly.

“Oh he misses her, that’s so sweet,” Vicki cooed.

“He doesn’t miss me,” Gina mused, getting to her feet. “He’s just horny.”

“Even better,” Denise mused, and Paul looked at her strangely as Gina made her way over to him.

“Thanks for the girls’ night, Vicki,” Gina perked.

“No probs,” Vicki grinned. “You can host the next one.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gina said gingerly as they walked calmly to the front door, waved goodbye, and then once surrounded by the sanctity of the outside world…ran.

Fenny arrived home to find Brad slumped on the couch asleep while some god awful reality programme consumed the television. She dropped her things into an armchair and then turned to look down at him. One arm was dangling over the side, the remote lolling in his fingers, the other lay limply across his chest while both feet were dangling over the arm of the couch. She leaned over and pressed her lips against his cheek. Before she managed to right herself, his arms quickly engulfed her and pulled her down onto the couch.

“I thought you were asleep,” she giggled, discarding her glasses.

“I was resting my eyes,” he lied and brought his lips sleepily to hers. “How was class?”

“Not bad, although I am going to write back to Paul and give him a mouthful…”

“What for?”

“Invading my psyche.”

“Oh, speaking of psychos, you’ll never guessed who called me.”

“Who?”

“Guess!”

“You said I’d never guess.”

“So, make it worth my while.”

“God, I don’t know. Your mom?”

“No.”

“My mom?”

“No.”

“You said psychos, right? Um, Ritza?”

“Are you inferring my mother is a psycho?”

“No, but she does call me Fanny, and that’s kinda annoying.”

“I humour your father, you shouldn’t complain.”

“Complain? My father invites you to Thanksgiving before he invites me.”

“My mother buys you nice Christmas presents.”

“Yeah, that pamphlet for me to get breast implants was just darling.”

“She was only thinking of me.”

“That disgusts me more than is humanly possible.”

“I was forced to sit through your father’s slides of when he went to Canada.”

“So was I.”

“There were 57 of the same moose!”

“Hey, I was seven, and that moose was the most entertaining thing on that trip.”

“You didn’t have many friends growing up, did you?”

“Are you going to tell me who called, or are we just going to insult each other’s families until dawn?”

“I like insulting our families.”

“Brad!”

“Okay, okay. Beven called from China somewhere…I think.”

“Beven, why’d he call?”

“Wanted to catch up,” Brad shrugged. “Oh, and he says he didn’t kill Don, which means it was either one of us, or there was someone else there.”

“I don’t care,” Fenny shuddered. “I don’t want to even think about it.” They fell silent and she buried her face into his neck.

“You know my mother still thinks you should bleach your hair and wear blue contacts,” he announced.

“My Dad wants to show you his tape of the Christmas we all went to Florida to visit some distant relative and ended up spending Christmas Day in a traffic jam.”

“What on earth did he film?”

“About 18 hours of us playing I-Spy.”

“Can we never visit your parents again.”

“Sure, as long as we never have to visit yours.”

“We tried that and they came to us, remember?”

“Maybe we should emigrate,” she mused.

“How about a vacation?” he suggested.

“A vacation?” Fenny said blankly.

Brad nodded with a wry smile. “How’d you like to go visit your best friends?”

“What? Of course I would, but it’s impossible I have to…”

“I’ve already booked the tickets.”

“What about work?” Fenny gasped.

“I’ve swapped a few tapings, and I spoke to your boss and she was fine about it.”

Fenny’s mouth hung open. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you and I think after what’s happened recently, we need some us time.”

“What about Lilly?”

“She’s staying with her mom, she’s fine.”

“And Moch’s and Jag?”

“Jenna’s kindly offered to feed them.”

“Is there anything you haven’t thought of?”

“Don’t think so,” he shrugged. “A real vacation, it’s going to be great.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she gasped.

“How about ‘Brad you’re fantastic and I love you’,” he suggested.

“Brad you’re fantastic and I love you,” Fenny laughed and kissed him, his hands caressing her back gently. “One thing though…”

“What?” he breathed as he started nibbling at her collarbone.

“Have you informed Gina and Paul?” she asked.

He paused and pondered a moment, “Ah, it’ll be a surprise.”

“Can we vow never to associate with our neighbours again?” Paul groused as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“It’d be pretty hard to avoid them,” Gina shrugged as she kicked off her jeans.

“You don’t understand,” he whined as he crouched down to undo his laces. “They want me to play rugby with them.”

She giggled. “Oh, I’d pay to see that, honey.”

“I have no desire to stick my head between their bloated, fat arses while they simultaneously pummel my already sensitive vital organs.”

“You think that’s bad,” she laughed as he stood up and she teasingly undid his belt. “I was forced to give them all sex advice.”

“What did you tell them? Lie back and shut up?” he chided.

“I’m not telling you,” she mused, removing her shirt and hunting out her pyjamas.

“Does it involve a cucumber?”

“It certainly doesn’t involve any deli meats,” she scorned, removing her bra and pulling on her singlet. “Did you know Vicki overheard us the other morning too?”

“Really?” he mused. “God, maybe next time we’ll have to give them something to really fucking gossip about.”

“Like what?” Gina smiled as Paul dropped his jeans on top of his pile of clothes. He gave her a wicked smile and then leapt across their makeshift bed and pulled her down onto it. There were a few moments of fervent kissing that soon turned into hysterical giggling.

“The guys were making lewd remarks about you every time a fucking newsbreak came on,” he breathed, as they lay tangled together.

“Denise thinks you’re hot,” she cooed and ran a finger down to the waistband of his boxers.

“Which one was Denise?”

“The one with the bad regrowth and faded Michael Bolton tour t-shirt.”

“Really? Are you worried you have competition for my affection then?” he asked with the utmost seriousness.

“Darling, if you find love with Denise, then I’m just going to have to accept it, aren’t I,” she sighed.

“I know it’ll be hard when we meet at premieres and things,” Paul chided. “Me in my brand new suit, and her in her bridesmaids dress from 1983…”

Gina cracked up laughing. “Oh that’s mean. Hysterical, but very mean.”

“True,” Paul agreed with a cheeky grin. “Hey, you think Fen’s looked at that attachment?”

“I bet she has, the pervy bitch,” she chided. “Hoping to catch a glimpse of your naked butt.”

“And getting a picture of Troy on top of the television instead,” he giggled. “Either way we’ll know if she’s a voyeur or not.”

“You’re an evil, devious man,” she breathed.

“And you love it,” he grinned and went to kiss her, only to be interrupted by the doorbell.

“Who the fuck is that?” Gina huffed.

“Probably Scott realising I’d bailed,” Paul grumbled, getting to his feet and pulling on his jeans. “I’ll go deal with it.”

“Well be quick!” she ordered pouting.

Paul hurried out of the bedroom still fiddling with his pants and just getting them done up as he opened the door. Freya stood on the doorstep, her face masked with tears, her mascara having run so much she looked like she’d been beaten.

“Freya what the…”

“It’s horrible, just terrible…” she babbled and wrapped her arms around him, her face buried in his shoulder.