The case was pulled from under the bed

She made a call to a sympathetic friend

And made arrangements

The door was closed, there was a note

I couldn’t be bothered

Maybe I’ll choke, no more engagements

Fenny sat at her desk rifling through a collection of dog-eared books about various artists in a vain attempt to organise some work for her class. She had a tissue clasped firmly in one hand for when she would inadvertently break into floods of tears. She seemed to have been crying for the last three weeks, and not because of any huge bust up with Brad. In fact, they’d barely said a word. Instead they’d returned home, he’d packed a few things and left without ever having bothered to talk things over. Just thinking about Brad and how guilty she felt made Fenny’s eyes prick with tears and she was annoyed when there was a knock at the door. She got to her feet, took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, and dabbed her eyes before hurrying over and unlocking the door.

“I’m just here to get some stuff,” Brad declared without looking at her and made his way toward the bedroom.

“Do you need a hand?” Fenny managed to ask as she scurried after him, wishing he’d just say what was on his mind rather than ignoring her completely.

“No,” came his gruff reply as he hunted out an empty duffle bag and started packing it with various items from around the room.

“Did you want a drink or anything?” she persisted but he ignored her and started removing some clothes from a drawer. She opened her mouth to speak again, but stopped herself when she realised it was futile. He had no desire to talk to her, he was hurt and angry, and had every right to be. She felt a lump forming in her throat and forced herself back into the study where she tried to feign interest in her books. All she could hear, though, was the sound of opening and closing drawers and Brad packing his belongings. Fenny soon became overwhelmed with guilt and loss and burst shamefully into tears again.

With “where-have-you-beens?”

And far away frowns

Trying to be good by not being ’round

And here in the bar

The piano man’s found

Another nail for my heart

And here in the bar

The piano man’s found

Another nail for my heart

“I can’t believe we finally got that roof patched,” Gina mused as she stopped to look at the ceiling before carrying on to the kitchen to deposit her mug in the sink.

“Let’s just hope it holds and we avoid anymore possum infestations,” Paul agreed as he stood at the sink trying to wash the plaster from his hands.

“Oh, and I was just starting to enjoy being able to see the water heater from down the hall,” Ritza teased as she appeared with Gus charging around her legs with a Spiderman toy.

“Oh, you’re back?” Gina mused. “How’d everything go?”

“My lawyer reckons I should be able to get sole custody of Gus no matter what Marco says,” Ritza replied.

“Even with your criminal record?” Paul asked, sounding more shocked than he meant to.

“Paul,” Gina cussed slapping his arm.

“It’s okay,” Ritza laughed. “I never murdered anyone, I should be fine.”

“Just don’t ask us to be character witnesses,” Paul perked. “We’re not exactly model citizens either.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gina laughed as Gus roared out of the room while yelling something about attacking the mongoose.

“PLAY NICELY WITH TROY!” Paul yelled.

Gina rolled her eyes. “Be a good husband and put the rest of that rubbish in the bin for me.”

“Yes dear,” Paul mocked and dried his hands on the back of her shirt before escaping from the room as she lobbed a sponge at him.

“I’ve some other good news,” Ritza declared.

“You’ve taken an office job rather than an in-the-field position for the Mafia?” Gina chided.

“I’ve found Gussy and I a house,” Ritza beamed. “It’s only little, but it’s enough for us at the moment.”

“That’s fantastic,” Gina smiled. “And Paul will be pleased he’ll no longer have to pretend to be Wolverine every night.”

Ritza gave a sad sigh. “My poor baby, losing another father figure.”

“No, I think it’s a good thing,” Gina nodded as the two women looked at each other, then cracked up laughing.

That stupid old bug

That kills only love

I want to be good

Is that not enough?

Paul hunted out a rather large bag of garbage from his studio which had been sitting there for weeks. He flung it over his shoulder and sauntered from the room feeling something like hell’s version of Santa, which led to a rather inane chorus of a made up Christmas carol. He stepped out onto the back verandah and found he was going nowhere. The bag had snagged on the corner of the flyscreen door. He gave it a rather large heave and the bag tore open, leaving a gaping hole and its contents littered across the concrete.

“Fucking hell,” Paul groused and let out a huff before he stalked over to the wheelie bin and flipped the lid open. He crouched down and began grabbing piles of garbage and dropping them into the bin. He was nearly through the pile when an unfamiliar box caught his eye. He picked it up and felt his blood run cold. “Home pregnancy test,” he mumbled and pried it open. His heart beat faster as he came across the actual test stick, which he gingerly removed and was forced to bite his lip: it was positive.

“What on earth did you do?” Gina announced, flying out of the backdoor.

“Nothing,” Paul said so fast and so shocked the test flew into the bin and he looked at her innocently.

“Then why is there garbage everywhere?”

“Bag broke,” he babbled and grabbed a broom. “I’m cleaning it.”

“I’m glad,” she mused. “Want me to help you?”

“No, you go inside and rest or something,” he declared, bustling her back into the house. He made sure she was gone before he turned back to the leftover garbage and let out a long relieved sigh.

So play me the song

That makes it so tough

Another nail for my heart

Then play me the song

That makes it so tough

Another nail for my heart

Brad looked around the bedroom. There were still things he needed to collect, but he had all the important things, the things he might need in the immediate future. He looked blankly at a picture of he and Fenny together on the dresser and picked it up. He still felt too betrayed to look at her, and put it back before grabbing his duffle bag and heading out of the room. He glanced around, looking for Fenny, and found her in the study, blowing her nose in a tissue. A part of him wanted to go over and hug her, the rest just felt numb. He gave the apartment a somewhat final look before making his way back into the corridor. Just as he came to ground floor in the elevator, Brad noticed Jett saunter in, a six-pack crammed under one arm. He realised he didn’t particularly care what happened to Jenna. In fact, he’d be more than happy to never see any of them ever again.

A short while later Brad parked his car at the small hotel he was staying at. He grabbed his bag from the trunk and slung it over his shoulder as he walked into the lobby. He was halfway to the elevator when he remembered his room key was still in his car and grumpily dropped his bag without looking.

“OW!”

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” Brad gasped, looking at the thin woman with long dark brown hair he’d nearly killed with his bag.

“So you should be,” groused the woman.

“Are you hurt? Should I get medical attention?” Brad asked, kicking his bag out of the way, dropping to his knees and prodding her feet.

“I’m fine,” the woman giggled, moving her feet quickly. “But thank you for caring.”

“My pleasure. Not for crushing you, but for being useful after nearly crushing you,” he nodded. “And now I’m not making sense and rambling.”

“It could be worse. I could have been bleeding profusely and you could have run off. Like a hit and run,” she enthused.

“Be more of a crush and hide like a girl,” he agreed.

The woman laughed as she reached into her handbag and pulled out a business card. “My name’s Bess, call me.”

“Brad,” he said blankly, taking the card, and watched as Bess disappeared into the elevator. He looked at the card and discovered she a was nurse, and there happened to be a conference of some kind on at the hotel. He shook his head and slipped the card into his back pocket before heading back to his car to get his room key.

I had excuses, those little boy lies

That she computed by watching my eyes

And told me firmly

Greg sat flicking through the most tedious array of women’s magazines as he waited for his wife to appear. He’d felt a lot better in the last few weeks. The angst that had been eating him had lifted when he found out that (a) his wife had been more than faithful and (b) Stuart had been struck off for indecent behaviour with several clients. No, everything was sorted, and Jennifer had insisted on letting bygones be bygones on one condition: they had to have a new councillor. As much as this pained Greg, he was more than willing to go through it for the woman he loved. He glanced at his watch and was distracted by his phone.

“Hello, oh hey pumpkin. What? Not Aunt Jean. She’s done what? With what? No, no, it’s fine. Yes, I’ll get to know Hugo. Hey? I will behave, I will. Listen, I think he’s coming, I’d better go. Yes, yes, okay. You too.”

“Jennifer and Gregory Proops?” a soft male voice asked the room.

“Hi, yeah, I’m Greg,” he perked, getting to his feet and sauntering over to his new shrink. It wasn’t until he reached the door he finally took note of what the man looked like. He was small, tubby with long hair that was painfully thin on top, a rough looking beard, and for reasons Greg couldn’t work out, he was sporting a caftan.

“And where might Jennifer be?” asked Hugo as Greg stepped into the office after briefly shaking hands.

“Why, I’m Jen too,” Greg mused and Hugo looked at him blankly. “No, she’s actually got stuck helping her Aunt Jean, who I like to refer to as Satan.”

“Okay,” Hugo nodded as Greg looked around for somewhere to sit. A couch, chair, beanbag, anything.

“Dude, you have no furniture,” he piped up.

“Gregory, we are our own furniture,” Hugo smiled.

“Oh,” Greg replied. “So I’ve actually got a three seater futon up my ass?”

Hugo smiled at him unblinkingly. “Why don’t you stand against the peach wall and tell me about your relationship with your wife and what’s brought you here.”

Greg looked to where Hugo motioned and there was in fact a peach coloured wall. He gingerly walked over to it, leaning back gently in case something bad happened. When he was comfortable that no sharp objects were going to pierce his flesh, he continued. “Well, the truth is, dude, things were going fantastically until I met a beautiful Australian named Gina…”

She couldn’t stand it, I’m bad on her heart

She dropped her make-up and now I found the bar

Now it concerns me

Danny grabbed his beer and tried to ignore his own image on television. Even in crowded bars he was getting recognised as ‘that sports guy’ on a regular basis. He didn’t feel like going home. It was bad enough he was suffering a severe broken heart. It was like Fenny had just torn it from his chest, shown it to him, and then proceeded to jump up and down on it for fun. He hadn’t heard a word from her since she left, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was back in her cosy love nest with Brad. To make matters worse, he’d hurt his relationship with Gina by getting drunk, turning up on her doorstep, and trying to pulverise Paul for telling Brad about what was going on with him and Fenny. He might have succeeded, had Gina not become proficient in rupturing vital organs. While he had apologised and she’d somewhat reluctantly offered him her old apartment, there was still an unhealthy tension between them. He could deal with missing Fenny, he was used to it. But not having Gina around was killing him. It was bad enough he had to be stuck with Freya and her ‘dust storms and low cloud frock,’ but without someone to help him mock her relentlessly, it just wasn’t as much fun. He took several large gulps of his beer and let his heavy heart sink further into his chest.

“Why do all the women I love get taken away from me,” he sighed and buried his face in his hands.

I’ve had a bad time

Now love is resigned

I’ve been such a fool

I’ve loved and goodbyed

As the faint early morning light started to trickle through the gap in the curtains, Paul realised he hadn’t slept all night. He looked at Gina who was on her side and facing away from him, her breathing slow and relaxed, and he knew that if he stayed, he’d only be lying to himself and hurting her. He gently leaned over and kissed her shoulder before creeping out of bed and quietly getting dressed. He threw a few things into a bag and winced as the zipper broke the silence of the room. He slung the bag over his shoulder, picked up his shoes and tiptoed toward the door. He stopped only to look apologetically at Gina’s sleeping form and whisper, “I love you and I’m sorry,” before he crept out into the cool air of the early morning. He sat on the doorstep and pulled on his socks and shoes and then rang for a taxi, which he asked to meet him at a park a block away. He crammed his phone back into pocket and started to walk. Every step he took made him hate himself more and more.

So here in the bar

The piano man’s found

Another nail for my heart

And here in the bar

The piano man’s found

Another nail for my heart

As Fenny lay staring at the ceiling, her eyes sore and swollen from crying, she realised she was alone. Her husband gone, her friends were pissed at her, and her family had disowned her. She had no one, and as the television flickered silently, it was as though her life had gone full circle, back to the neurosis and apt loneliness that had haunted her, before Greg, Brad, Gina and Paul, before Danny, and before she had ever been truly happy.

Brad ran his fingers gently down the bare flesh of Bess’s arm as he lay beside her in her hotel room bed. He wasn’t sure if it felt as though he hadn’t had sex in a long time, or whether he wasn’t entirely sure he had enjoyed the experience emotionally. Either way, the fascinating brunette he’d shared dinner with, talked and laughed with for hours, and then made love to was sleeping beside him, and even if he didn’t feel anything for her, it was nice to have someone there. He didn’t want to be alone. Being alone would mean dealing with his feelings, and he wasn’t quite ready for that emotional roller coaster.

Gina sipped her mug of tea quietly. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been surprised to wake up and find Paul gone. There was no doubt he was gone: his sketchbook, best suit, and Troy hadn’t left of their own accord. She knew something was up. He had been acting very strangely the previous night. Sure, it hurt that he’d once again destroyed her plans for a few weeks of happiness, but she knew in her heart he’d come back. He always did.

Paul stepped out of Melbourne airport and clambered onto a taxi, which he instructed to take him to a hotel. He fell into a quiet, melancholy mood and watched the scenery pass in a blur until they reached the centre of town. Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, Paul paid his cab charge and fell out of the taxi and into the street. He headed toward the hotel, happy to be lost in the crowd and pleased to have something else to occupy his thoughts. He stopped to buy a newspaper from a vendor and was collided into by a woman with a pram. He took one look at the sleeping baby, mumbled an apology and looked to the heavens. If that had been a sign from the gods, it wasn’t bloody funny.

Greg slumped into his car after two hours with Hugo, the peach and nectarine walls, and something about Tibetan massage. He fished his phone out of his pocket and noticed he’d missed a call from his agent. He went to hunt out her number but hit the wrong button and got a stored voicemail message instead.

The time is 3:30pm, you have one new voice message…Thought you’d seen the end of m,e hey? Didn’t think I’d be back. Thought your little slut had seen the end of me. Then you and your friends and that — traitor — Don wanted you dead and you fuckers killed him.. Oh, I’m going to avenge his death with all of yours. You won’t know when or how. In fact, it’ll happen when you least expect it…

Greg dropped his phone as a maniacal laugh cackled ghostly from its speaker. He cursed himself for not deleting Amy’s message and quickly resigned himself to the fact her threat was as hollow as Hugo’s head. He dropped the phone onto the passenger seat and started the car. It was time to get his life back to normal.