Gina was halfway up the garden path by the time she could even start to comprehend her feelings. She loved Paul. She adored him from his little insecurities to his big problems, and she’d even risked her life for him. What the hell was she doing cramming her tongue down Giles’ throat? She took a deep breath and decided that it didn’t matter, considering she’d practically bolted from the park anyway, and with any luck, that would be a good enough hint to convince Giles to hop on the next plane back to London. She approached the front door to hear a threat of “you selfish little shit!” and felt a smile spread across her face. Yeah, she still loved Paul.

“What are you doing?” Gina asked as she stepped in the front door.

“Well, I was changing the doorknobs,” Paul nodded. “I mean, the ones we have are fucked, but the whole process just turned to shit. I dropped the screws, broke the knob and locked myself into my own studio. I’m seriously considering hunting down that handyman from Better Homes and inserting my screwdriver up his pretentious fucking arse.”

“So, you changed how many?” she asked, confused.

“One,” he pouted. “They make me angry and I fear for their safety should I attempt more.”

“You’re kind of an un-handyman, really, aren’t you?”

“Hey, I fixed the hole in my studio door.”

“I didn’t know there was a hole?”

“Well, there wasn’t until I got a bit frustrated with the knob,” he said blankly. “Had a little slipping with the hammer incident.”

“You don’t need a hammer to attach doorknobs!”

“Little bastard wouldn’t budge,” Paul half-smiled as he motioned to the remains of the pulverised doorknob on the floor.

“I think you should be banned from touching the tools,” Gina mused.

“Planning to give my hands something else to do, huh?” he remarked slyly as they both moved closer and wrapped each other up in a hug. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Nothing important,” she cooed and avoided the topic by kissing him.

“Must have been something to get you out of bed,” he pressed.

“I was burying Freya’s corpse,” she giggled and kissed him again.

“No really, where were you? And why the fuck do you taste like blueberries?” Paul asked suspiciously. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times as she tried to think up an excuse. A wave of relief swept over her as Paul’s phone rang out.

“You better answer that,” she breathed and hurried off to the bedroom to change as Paul pulled his phone from his pocket and tried to ignore the fact his wife was acting more than a little strange.

“I wonder if they have intense security measures here,” Fenny mused as Brad reappeared after a tussle at the baggage claim with several other tourists and small children.

“Well, we haven’t been strip searched yet, so that’s gotta be a good thing,” Brad mused and dropped the cases onto an airport trolley that Fenny had forked out her only two Australian dollars for.

“I’m not having some guy stick his rubber-gloved fingers up my butt,” she declared and received a glare from one of the airport workers as they hurried to the only vacant customs desk.

“G’day,” smiled the man at the desk as he removed his hands from his shorts pockets to take the passports from Brad. “You pack those bags yourself.”

“No, we called in the woman from down the road and a couple of good friends,” Brad mused as images of being pushed against a wall and having her legs spread flashed into Fenny’s mind. She was surprised when the man laughed.

“Everything looks in order, go through,” he perked.

“What? That’s it?” Brad gasped.

“Darling, don’t argue with the man,” Fenny announced through clenched teeth and grabbed his arm.

“You don’t want to search our luggage? Check for gelignite? Stick a thermometer under our tongues?”

“Not really, I’ve got a tea break in three minutes,” replied the man, and he turned his attention to an elderly couple.

“How does this country survive?” Brad gasped. “We could have been smuggling in anything: drugs, guns, endangered species!”

“Thankyou for announcing that so the whole of Australia could hear,” Fenny sighed as they headed toward the electronic doors.

After nearly an hour stuck in a taxi with Brad still amazed he wasn’t ritually searched, interrogated and quarantined, Fenny checked the piece of paper she’d scribbled Gina and Paul’s address down on.

“It should be around here somewhere,” she breathed, reading the house numbers.

“You’d hardly believe it,” Brad laughed. “Jesus, look at the state of that place,” Brad laughed, pointing to the most dilapidated house in the street.

“I wouldn’t laugh, according to this, that’s it,” Fenny gasped.

“You’re not serious?” he laughed as the taxi pulled to a stop. She nodded and grabbed her purse to pay the driver. With the jet lag starting to set in, they grabbed their cases and lugged them into the front porch.

“I still can’t believe it,” Brad mused.

“Well if the music emanating is anything to go by, it’s definitely the right one,” Fenny declared and rang the doorbell. She waited a few seconds and rang it again.

“If they turned their music do…” Brad’s voice trailed off as the door clicked open and they copped the full force of the music making their ears ring.

All my friends are fuck-ups, but they’re fun to have around, banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Gemini’s love Wooden Dragons, and how down the street the weeks roll by…

“FEN,” Paul gasped. “BRAD,” he added looking to Brad.

“Surprise,” Brad grinned.

“Who is it?” Gina asked, appearing beside Paul. “FEN!”

“What are you guys doing here?” Paul demanded, still looking like a stunned bunny.

“We needed a holiday,” Fenny smiled. “And what better way to have a holiday then in laid back Australia, with friends and free accommodation.”

“Oh, it’s gonna be great!” Paul beamed, leaping forward and wrapping Fenny in a hug, which took her by surprise and they stumbled off the porch and onto the grass.

“STACKS ON!” Gina yelled, raced off the porch and jumped on top of both Paul and Fenny.

“What? Oh!” Brad mused. “GERONIMO!” he called.

“NO!” screamed the pile on the grass as Brad crashed down on top of them.

“Oh my spleen,” Fenny yelped.

“My testicles,” Paul groaned.

“My boobs,” Gina added.

“I love you guys,” Brad laughed as they all fell separately onto the grass in both pain and fits of giggles.

“Oh my god,” Vicki gasped, peering through her curtains. “Scott, look at this, who would have though the McDermott’s were into orgies? And so publicly, too.”

Danny trudged into the Channel Ten studios annoyed that he was being forced to work on a Saturday afternoon. He stalked into the make-up room and looked into the mirror. No matter how crisp his suit was, how gelled his hair was, or how clearly he spoke, nothing was going to disguise the black eye he’d gotten from a quatre of playing football. Not only was the news director going to kill him with a boom mic, but all the old people who watched were certain to ring in and ask how it happened. It’d hit the rumour mill, and next thing you know it’d be the result of a drunken brawl in a gay bar with three drag queens and a chicken. Danny was about to hunt out some foundation and a sponge when the door opened.

“I know, I know, It looks bad,” he began until he noticed it wasn’t the news director but Freya who’d turned up.

“What looks — oh my gosh!” Freya gasped, her hands shooting to her mouth. “You can’t go on like that.”

“I have to, Craig is sick,” Danny huffed, his mood deflating further now that Freya was there.

“Not him, too, so is Cheri,” Freya sighed. “I’m stuck doing the weekend weather.”

“I hope they’ve got bloody SARS, that’s all I can say,” he groused.

She pondered a moment. “You know, Cheri was fine yesterday.”

“So was Craig.”

A wry smile spread across Freya’s face. “You don’t think…”

“No? They wouldn’t be,” Danny paused turning to Freya. “Would they?”

“It’s a bit strange that two single people should be off on the same weekend, dontcha think?”

He let out a sigh. “Well, at least we get paid extra, I guess.”

“Still, it’s hardly fair that we’re stuck working while they’re off cavorting somewhere.”

“Hey, we don’t have anyone to cavort with,” Danny declared as he opened a large make-up case.

“Maybe you don’t,” Freya smiled slyly and grabbed the sponge he picked up. “I’ll do it, you’ll just make a mess.”

Danny refrained from asking Freya any more questions or denying her the opportunity to do his make-up, as the manic look in her eyes made her just that little bit scarier.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Paul declared, leading the way down the hall and into the kitchen.

“This place is cool,” Fenny smiled as she abandoned her bag in the hall. “TROY!” she squealed, noticing the fully restored mongoose on top of the television.

“Yeah, he’s about the only thing looking good at the moment,” Gina mused as Fenny gave the mongoose a cuddle, even if it did bring back memories that made her shudder.

“Why on earth do you have…” Brad began as he reached down to pick up Archie from his position next to the television.

“DON’T TOUCH MY GNOME!” Paul yelled from the kitchen.

“Paul has a sixth sense about that gnome, just back away slowly and you’ll be fine,” Gina sniggered. Brad comically stepped back like something out of a bad spy movie and stumbled over a paint can.

“Oh, you so deserved that,” Fenny teased as Paul bounded back into the living room.

“Just a thought, babe,” he perked. “Where are the yanks gonna sleep?”

“Spare room?” Gina shrugged.

“Yeah, I’d figured that much out,” Paul nodded. “What is the spare room missing that might constitute good accommodation?”

Gina thought for a moment and then her eyes went wide. “A bed. Oh shit, we haven’t got a bed!”

“You’re a genius, honey,” Paul sarced and she gave him the finger before they both started giggling. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Easy,” Gina smiled, digging her fingers into her pocket. “Brad takes my car and the two of you grab the spare mattress from your place,” she finished and chucked her keys to Brad.

“Oh that’s right, make the guests get their own bed!” he wailed.

“Just go,” Fenny sighed and shoved him toward the door.

“I’m not happy about sleeping on anything that might have been fornicated on by Paul,” he announced as he headed out of the door.

“Well go on,” Gina ordered at Paul who looked back at her blankly.

“And to think I was making you tea,” he huffed and stalked out of the door.

“Men are just so stupid,” Gina laughed.

“And ours are up there with the best,” Fenny nodded.

“This car brings back so many memories,” Brad sighed as he started the engine of Gina’s Beetle.

“What type of memories, mate? You and Fen haven’t rooted on the backseat, have you, because there’s a couple of stains and a footprint on the roof we can’t explain?” Paul asked with mock seriousness.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our night of passion?” Brad gasped.

“We said we’d never discuss that,” Paul whimpered before they both cracked up laughing.

“You and Gina seem revoltingly happy,” Brad mused, deciding to change the subject.

“Yeah, we’re doing okay,” Paul nodded. “I’m assuming you’ve been briefed on everything.”

“Of course. And I’ve been there with Freya, and I don’t know why you let her do that.”

“It wasn’t a conscious decision, mate.”

“Well I’ve seen both women naked, and I know which woman I’d rather have up against a fridge.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that or imagined having my wife against a fridge.”

“Let’s never speak of it again.”

“You know Freya bought an apartment just down the hall from mine. Even fucking arranged her furniture the same as me.”

“Christ, she is a wacko.”

“Gee Sherwood, I hadn’t noticed,” Paul sarced and then fell serious. “She’s not the problem at the moment, anyway. It’s Genie I’m worried about.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Brad asked.

“Well, her BOYFRIEND from ENGLAND decided to turn up and profess his love,” Paul groused.

“Gina was seeing someone else?” Brad gasped. “That’s harsh.”

“His name is Giles, he wears beige, and I hope he gets taken by a shark,” Paul spat. “She said it was over, but this morning she went out really early, which just isn’t like her, and she came home tasting of blueberries, which she hates.”

“Blueberries, huh? Well, that’s just asking for trouble,” Brad teased. “Don’t have a breakdown over something that has no evidence of being a problem.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” Paul sighed, leaning his head against the window.

“Oh, I love this song!” Brad suddenly declared and turned the radio up. “When I’m out walkin’ I strut my stuff Man, I’m so strung out, I’m high as a kite I just might stop to check you out. ” A grin spread across Paul’s face and he and Brad belted out the chorus together. “Let me go on, like I blister in the su,n Let me go on, big hands I know you’re the one…”

“And this is the backyard slash downtown Basra,” Gina announced as she guided Fenny onto the back verandah.

“Oh this is…what is Lewis doing?” Fenny winced, noticing the cat amongst a pile of feathers.

“Ripping the spleen out of a pigeon,” Gina shrugged. “So, how are things with you and Brad?”

“Huh?” Fenny muttered, tearing her eyes from the carnage. “A lot better. He seems to have remembered I exist again.”

“That’s good to hear,” Gina nodded.

“I was getting worried though. I thought we were heading for a divorce for a while.”

“It got that intense?”

Fenny nodded, “It was horrible. I think we just forgot how to work as a couple. You’re lucky you and Paul can talk so freely about anything.”

Gina gave a sharp laugh, “If only it was good news we talked so freely about.”

“He hasn’t done something stupid again, has he?” Fenny asked.

“No, Paul has been a good boy,” Gina replied. “I did the something stupid.”

“Greg’s not here is he? Hiding in a cupboard or something?”

“No, a guy I was seeing in London turned up. Giles.”

“Giles,” Fenny sniggered and then stopped herself. “Sorry, don’t know what brought that on.”

“He turned up professing his love for me,” Gina scorned.

“And Paul doesn’t know?”

“Oh, Paul knows. We worked through that after he had a minor hissy fit.”

“So what’s the problem?” Fenny asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against a verandah pole.

“I met Giles this morning, I planned to just reiterate that I loved Paul and go, but we ended up kissing.”

“What type of kissing?”

“Passionate, longing kissing.”

“Gina.”

“I know, I know,” she groused. “And I don’t know why I did it, because I don’t really have any feelings for him. I love Paul more than ever, you know that.”

“Yes, that part is blatantly obvious,” Fenny smiled. “I take it you haven’t told him about kissing Giles?”

Gina shook her head. “Do you think I should?”

“Yeah, you tell him to be honest, you’d be a hypocrite if you didn’t.”

“Is it wrong to hate yourself for being an idiot?” Gina sighed.

“No, I do it daily,” Fenny shrugged. “Come on, you owe me tea,” she added and dragged Gina back inside.

“Let me go on, like I blister in the sun, Let me go o,n big hands I know you’re the one.” Brad and Paul belted out as Paul unlocked his apartment.

“Should we go again?” Brad asked.

“No, I think five times is enough,” Paul nodded and then started humming the tune as he wandered into the kitchen. “Want a beer, mate?”

“I shouldn’t, I’m jet lagged and I’m driving,” Brad replied as he joined Paul in the kitchen.

Paul held out an unopened beer. “Go on mate, you know you want it.”

“Just the one,” Brad mused and snatched the beer off him. “So how come you have beer if you’re not living here?”

“Oh, Dan’s house sitting sort of. I guess it’s his beer,” Paul grinned as they both giggled their way into the spare room, where they stopped to look at the bed and the queen sized mattress.

“That looks heavy.”

“It is, mate,” Paul nodded. “How about we have another beer, then just go buy one.”

“I like that idea better,” Brad nodded. “And I’ll know it’s clean then too.”

“Not scared by a little stainage, mate, are you?” Paul mused. “I mean it’s only natural, for fuck’s sake.”

“Have you no idea the amount of germs carried in bedding?”

Paul shook his head and starting walking out of the room. “Fucking yanks, fucking paranoid about fucking everything.”

“Oh, you’re so getting dangled over the balcony,” Brad declared and took off after him.

“You’ll be able to arrange all your furniture soon,” Fenny declared as she looked around the living room again.

“Yeah, just a couple of bits to touch up,” Gina nodded. “I wonder where Tweedledee and Tweedledum have got to?”

“I dread to think,” Fenny sighed. “Paul’s apartment isn’t that far.”

“I have this feeling that they’ve discovered Dan’s beer supply.”

“Dan?” Fenny said, trying not to sound too eager. “Why would Dan have beer in Paul’s fridge?”

“He’s back in Australia,” Gina smiled, “and he had nowhere to stay, so he’s staying at Paul’s.”

“That was nice of you,” Fenny breathed as the doorbell went off.

“I’ll just see who that is,” Gina perked and hurried out of the living room. Fenny shuffled about and stopped to look out the window until her attention was brought back to Gina. “We have visitors.”

“Who?” Fenny asked and looked up. “Dan.”

“Fen,” Danny gasped.

“What did you do to your eye?” Gina asked.

“I played footy,” Danny replied not looking away from Fenny. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Gina muttered.

“I’m on holiday with Brad,” Fenny smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Freya’s being insane,” he mused, not even bothering to address Gina. “You look, wow.”

“Dan,” Fenny warned but felt her cheeks redden. “Your eye looks bad.”

“It’s a scratch,” Danny swallowed before they fell silent with awed looks on their faces.

“Well, I couldn’t feel anymore uncomfortable if I tried,” Gina breathed and stalked off into the kitchen to put the kettle on again.