11 – Sex, Love and Other Catastrophes

Fenny was woken the next morning by the sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains and the creaking of floorboards. Her arms ached and her hands felt numb. She wearily opened her eyes and slowly looked up to face Ritza, who was standing over her with a cup of tea and a plate of toast.

“Sleep well?” Ritza asked.

“Oh yeah. Kept having these dreams about crucifixion, though,” Fenny sarced.

“Are you hungry?” Ritza asked coolly.

“Well, I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, and the nausea brought on by your excruciating taste in music seems to have passed,” Fenny breathed.

Ritza placed the tea and toast on the bedside table before she reached over and untied Fenny’s hands. Fenny slid the rest of the rope off her wrists and rubbed the dark red grooves it left.

“Eat, we have to make an early start,” Ritza demanded before she turned and left the room. The floorboards creaked louder as she left.

Fenny was confused by Ritza’s seemingly kind turn, but took the tea and toast without a second thought. She was starving and dehydrated, and she had a feeling she’d need her strength.


Gina woke to the unfamiliar feeling of soft skin against her own. She opened her eyes sleepily and found neither she nor Greg had moved position all night. Her head was still on his shoulder and his arms were still wrapped tightly around her. In those first few sleepy seconds, Gina wished that one moment could have lasted forever.

“Greg,” she whispered and kissed his shoulder softly.

Greg let out an unattractive grunt

“We have to get up, we’ve got to find Fenny,” Gina breathed.

“Fuck Fenny,” Greg grumbled, still half asleep.

“You did,” she chided.

Greg’s eyes flickered open, and he looked at Gina bemused. “That’s hardly the most romantic thing to start the morning after.”

“I’m not used to morning afters,” she sighed, holding his gaze.

“Maybe you need a practical demonstration then,” he mused and slid a hand up to her cheek. He pulled her close and they began their lustful exploration all over again.

“Do you think anyone heard last night?” she gasped between kisses and running her fingers down Greg’s chest.

“God I hope so,” he breathed.

Gina fought off the giggles to straddle Greg. “You do, huh?” she panted.

“Well, I have said previously I could make you scream,” he mused.

“Well then, I think it’s your turn,” she purred and began to leave a trail of kisses down Greg’s chest….


Brad opened the curtains to reveal a strong blast of sunlight through the grime and dead flies. He turned away from the window and crouched down to check the mini bar. Nothing but an array of those stupid milk things with the tear back tops. He pondered drinking the lot, but decided he might as well go down for breakfast.

The only upside Brad had discovered so far was that his clothes were dry, although they stunk of stagnant water. It was a small price to pay, considering he could have ended up with severe chafing on his testicles if they’d still been wet. Brad pulled on his clothes and then wandered into the small bathroom. He washed his face, ran his wet fingers through his hair and used the air freshener as deodorant.

Pleased and now smelling of a spring morning, he headed downstairs for breakfast. Brad was greeted by several large truckies, including the more than familiar Big Bazza. He was tempted to run back upstairs, but Bazza caught him.

“Brad, mate! You back again?” Bazza chirped as he strolled over and put his arm around Brad.

“Yeah, can’t get enough of the place,” Brad said with false enthusiasm.

“Mate, the other guys here?” Bazza asked.

“No, well Greg’s here…”

“Have you had breakfast? Course you ain’t. I’m buying,” Bazza chuckled and led Brad, unwillingly, to a table that had three other truckies sitting at it.

“Fellas, this is my mate Brad…” Bazza perked.

Brad smiled, slightly scared by the three hulking great men before him.


Paul hadn’t actually slept, unless you counted the five minutes he’d had between Greg and Gina’s never ending fuckfest and when a possum had decided to throw things at his window. Oh, and there was no doubt that Gina and Greg had been doing it like rabbits. Between the creaking of the bed and the high-pitched squeals of ecstasy, it was hard to mistake.

He rolled out of bed, zapped of any energy. He attempted to pull on his pants, but eventually ended up hopping halfway across the room, pirouetting and falling forward into a chair. Paul pulled himself back up, screamed several obscenities at the chair, and kicked it. This resulted in more obscenities and a stream of blood from his toe.

When he got his pants on and remembered how to button his shirt, Paul hopped into the bathroom looking for Band-Aids. Nothing. Not even a tissue. Furious, he hopped out of his room and knocked on the door across the hall. A woman answered and looked at him strangely.

“I don’t suppose you have any Band-Aids, do you?” Paul asked, pointing to his bloodied toe.

“Sure, hold on,” the woman replied and closed the door. She returned several seconds later and offered a handful of Band-Aids to Paul. He thanked her and headed back to his room, only then noticing they were purple Winnie the Pooh bandages.


Fenny finished the last of her tea and stared at the picture on the side of the mug. There was a cat and the phrase “Hang in There”, which she found rather ironic. Suddenly the door flew open and Ritza reappeared.

“You done?” she asked.

“Only just. Hey, I couldn’t use the bathroom, could I?” Fenny asked.

Ritza stared at her for a moment. “Down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Fenny muttered as she brushed past Ritza.

As she crossed the lounge room, she was shocked to see another person there. Another woman who looked like Ritza, playing with a baby on rug. They stared at each other for a moment and Fenny had a feeling she knew this woman. It wasn’t until she locked the bathroom door she realised it was the woman she’d seen on the beach.

Fenny pretended to wash her face but instead listened to the two women talking.

“That her then?”

“Yeah. Why did you bring him here?”

“He’s your kid, I thought you might want to see him.”

“I do, but there’s more pressing matters.”

“Like?”

“You know.”

“So when do I get to have my fun?”

“I want to leave ASAP.”

“They’re only half an hour away, I’ll do what I have to and come straight back.”

“Shit, Rona, it’s bad enough with the yank…”

“Oh, come on, you want to make the bitch suffer.”

“You’ve got an hour, no more.”

“Sis, have I ever let you down?”

Fenny switched off the tap and sunk to the floor. This was not good, and there was nothing she could do.


“Do you have to do that?” Greg whined as Gina pulled on her jeans.

“Yes, I have to buy another map,” Gina replied.

Greg slid out of bed and pulled on his pants. “Do you know where my shirt is?”

“Last time I saw it I was ripping it off you,” she cooed.

“How could I forget?” he mused, pouncing on Gina and catching her in another kiss.

“I’m serious, I have to get a map,” she giggled.

“Like five minutes is going to matter,” he mused, trying to undo her belt while she was trying to do it up.

“You’re like a bloody teenager,” she laughed. “Look, I won’t be any more than ten minutes.”

“Promise?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Would I lie to you?”

“Probably,” he chuckled, “you are a journalist.”

She pulled on her boots and looked back at him. “I’ll be five minutes,” she mused and headed to the door.

“Wait,” Greg perked. “My shirt,” he added, pointing to the handle.

Gina looked down and grabbed Greg’s shirt from the door handle. He sauntered over and kissed her as he grabbed it. “I really love you.”

“I know,” Gina smiled and slid out the door.

She ran straight into Paul, who looked her up and down.

“Morning,” Gina rushed.

“Oh Greg…Oh do me do me do me…Ahhhh that feels so good,” Paul announced in a high pitched voice.

Gina blushed, and tried to hide a smile. “I have to buy a map.”

“Why? By the sounds of it he already knows the road to your g-spot,” Paul sarced.

For a moment it looked like they were both about to burst out laughing, but Gina quickly hurried off down the corridor. Before Paul could leave, Greg stepped out of Gina’s room.

“Good morning, Mr McDermott,” Greg beamed.

“You hurt her and I’ll use your testicles as furry dice,” Paul scowled and marched off downstairs.


Fenny stepped out of the bathroom once she heard the other woman leave. Ritza was now on the floor with the baby.

“Yours?” Fenny asked.

“What do you think?” Ritza snapped.

“Does he have a name?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Ritza mumbled.

“Well Prince used to just be a symbol,” Fenny shrugged.

“Go wait in the bedroom,” Ritza said in barely whisper.

As Fenny followed orders she looked back over her shoulder, Ritza appeared to be crying.


Gina wandered into the service station, grabbed a couple of maps and sauntered up to the counter. She paid for the overpriced pieces of paper and then headed back toward the hotel. Gina was so entranced in one of the maps that it came as quite a shock when she suddenly tripped and fell flat on the ground. Still on the ground she turned around and was greeted by a familiar wicked smile.

“Hey. Bet you weren’t expecting me,” Rona perked.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gina spat.

“Unfinished business,” Rona scorned. “Get up.”

“What if I don’t,” Gina hissed.

Rona stepped forward and gave Gina a swift kick in the ribs. Gina winced and coughed.

“Now get up,” she ordered.