Ritza slowed the van at an intersection and squinted through the raindrops on the windshield to read the signs. “I take it we’re heading back to Edinburgh?” she announced.

“Yes, I have a publicist to apologise profusely to,” Greg nodded.

“Do you think Mick and Cameron will believe me?” Paul asked, looking at Gina.

“Do you think the editor of The Sun will believe me?” Gina countered.

“He’ll probably give you 10,000 pounds and the opportunity to be page three girl,” Danny quipped.

“Be nice to me, I’m your boss,” Gina huffed and poked him in the stomach with Troy.

“Don’t assault Troy,” Paul pouted and snatched the mongoose back.

“So, we’re going back to Edinburgh?” Ritza reiterated as she still sat at the intersection.

“Yes. No, wait,” Brad chirped. “We have to go back to Betty’s. We said we would.”

“We can still be back in Edinburgh by tonight though, right?” Fenny asked.

“Should do,” Ritza nodded.

“Good, because if I don’t get some decent underwear soon I’ll loose all feeling in my breasts,” Fenny grumbled and pulled at the corset under her sweater.

“You can take it off it if you want,” the four men said in unison.

“Nice to see you’re all sharing the same cloud of testosterone,” Gina mused.

“Actually, if you and Ritza do the same we can have a mini wet t-shirt competition,” Greg perked.

“Oh please, Proops has seen all your tits anyway,” Danny chuckled.

“He’s seen Ritza’s?” Brad said blankly and looked at Greg. “Buddy?”

“I hardly think whether I have or have not seen Ritza’s generous breasts is any of your business, Sherwood,” Greg pouted.

“They did the deed,” Danny grinned before Gina kicked him in the shin. “Bitch, what did you do that for?”

“Ever heard of discretion?” Gina scorned.

“This from you? Everyone’s seen your tits and all,” Danny grumbled.

Gina pondered a moment. “Oh, guess that’s true. Paul and Greg have had near equal access. Brad and I got nuded up and he soaked me in the shower once.”

Fenny looked curiously at Brad and raised an eyebrow. “I failed to notice she was in white,” he shrugged.

“So when has Dan seen your assets?” Paul asked.

“There had been some drinking involved, and a bit of a daring competition,” Gina shrugged.

“You were drunk?” Fenny gasped.

“I never said I’d been drinking,” Gina mused.

“You worry me,” Paul muttered. “So that means Dan’s the only one not to have seen Ritza’s generous assets,” he grinned.

“When did you see my boobs?” Ritza gasped, forgetting she was driving for a moment.

“When we burst into that hotel room in Adelaide and you we’re doing nasty things to Sherwood,” Paul replied.

“And Paul’s the only one not to have seen Fen’s, right?” Brad announced more than asked.

“And Paul’s the only one Fen’s not seen naked,” Gina giggled.

“Yeah thanks for that,” Paul scorned.

“I’ve seen him in various stages of undress,” Fenny shrugged. “Often without pants,” she added.

“I haven’t seen Paul or Dan naked,” Ritza piped up.

“You don’t want to,” Gina chided. “I’ve seen all the guys naked. Wanna know how they measure up?”

“I hardly think talking about penis size is appropriate in these surroundings,” Greg declared.

“Oh, but discussing our boobs is fine?” Fenny scorned.

“Fen’s right, we should change the subject,” Brad piped up. “Have you girls seen each other naked?” he added with a smile.

“Have you guys?” Ritza retorted.

“Oh god,” Paul suddenly gasped. “I’ve just realised I’ve seen all three of ’em.”

“When?” Gina giggled.

“Well, after we got Dan drunk at the wedding there was a small ‘streaking through the bridesmaids’ incident.”

“No wonder Abbie was always after him,” Gina mused.

“Greg, well, let’s just say it what happens on tour stays on tour. And Brad, well we got changed together before his wedding.”

“Why are we talking about seeing each other naked?” Fenny asked.

“We can go back to discussing your breasts if you’d like?” Danny quipped.

“Can we?” Greg said with a grin.

“Ritz, how much longer to Betty’s?” Fenny groaned.

“About 45 minutes,” Ritza mused as she was forced to squint again.

By the time Ritza pulled the van to a stop at Betty’s the early morning rain had departed and the sky was now a vibrant blue, the sun slowly warming the chilly air.

“The weather here changes quicker than a supermodel on speed,” Gina mused.

“Let’s drink our toast outside,” Brad suggested as he took a seat on the steps of the porch. Fenny sat on the step below him and leaned back in his arms. Paul sat leaning against a railing, Gina moving beside him, her head on his shoulder and a hand on his thigh. Danny sat on the bottom step and stretched his legs along it, while Ritza leaned on another of the railings. Greg appeared with the whisky and seven glasses, which he poured a little into for everyone.

“I’m not drinking that,” Fenny declared.

“Do it for Betty,” Brad urged as she looked mortified at her glass.

“Greg, you doing the honours?” Paul asked.

“Certainly,” Greg nodded as he sat himself next to Brad. “To freedom from psychotics, and our futures that have now been secured by the tragic death of Don. To Beven; wherever you are, we’re forever thankful. And to Betty, who taught us that the love between two people is sacred.”

“TO BETTY!” they roared and chinked glasses before downing the pungent liquid.

“Argh!” Fenny gagged.

“That burns,” Gina added.

A silence fell over the group that was soon shattered by Paul breaking out into soft song.

“Amazing grace how sweet the sound

That saved a retch like me

I once was lost but now I’m found

Was blind but now I see

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear

And grace my fear relieved

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed

Through many dangers toils and snares

We have already come

‘Twas grace that brought us safe thus far

And grace will lead us home

When we’ve been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

Than when we first begun

Amazing grace how sweet the sound

That saved a retch like me

I once was lost but now I’m found

Was blind but now I see.”

He finished the song and the silence fell over the group again. They looked at each other bashfully, as they all appeared to be teary.

“Damn hayfever,” Greg muttered.

“I think I’ve just realised what a lucky escape we’ve had,” Gina breathed snuggling closer to Paul.

“I’ve sprung a leak,” Brad mused, wiping a tear from his eye.

“God, let’s get back to Edinburgh,” Paul declared. “We’re all pathetic.”

The group broke into exhausted laughter and got to their feet.

By early evening they’d returned the van and found themselves back in Edinburgh where the warmth of the afternoon sun was being lost amongst the old grey buildings.

“I suggest we split up, do what we have to and then meet up somewhere for dinner,” Brad declared.

“Sounds like a great idea to me.” Danny yawned.

“Sorted then,” Ritza perked. “Brad, Fen, you’ve gotta come with me.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Fenny mused as she and Brad followed Ritza away from the main street.

“Want me to go with you?” Paul asked turning to Gina.

“Nah, go and do what you have to,” Gina smiled.

“Lie profusely, drink too much and change my underwear?”

“Something like that,” Gina mused as they wrapped each other in a hug.

“You can take Troy if you like,” Paul offered.

“You know, I think I’ll pass up on that one.” Gina chided as she reluctantly let go of him and headed to her hotel with Danny. Greg noticed Paul standing there looking giddily happy and grabbed him by the arm.

“Come on, McDermott, I need dry pants.”

Ritza led Brad and Fenny into the lobby of a small hotel that was furnished in way too much tartan.

“Wait here,” Ritza smiled and hurried over to the desk. She had a short conversation with the person behind the desk and then looked over to Brad and Fenny. “Come here.”

Brad and Fenny shrugged and sauntered over and were surprised to see their suitcases waiting just behind the desk.

“How the hell…” Fenny began.

“A little something I did back in Amsterdam,” Ritza smiled. “Oh and before I forget.” She unzipped a pocket on the side of her own bag and handed Fenny her glasses.

“My glasses!” Fenny gasped.

“For some reason Don seemed to be keeping them as a trophy,” Ritza shrugged.

“Thank you so much,” Fenny gushed and wrapped Ritza in a hug, surprising herself and Ritza.

“Group hug,” Brad declared and wrapped his arms around both of them.

“God, I’m going to go and try and remove the smell of pond scum from my skin,” Ritza giggled, untangling herself from the hug.

“Now that is a good idea,” Brad agreed as they grabbed their luggage and booked rooms for the night.

Gina stepped back into her hotel room and felt a shiver run down her spine. It was exactly as she’d left it when she was kidnapped. The towel from the bathroom was still sprawled across her bed.

“Lazy fucking maid,” she grumbled as there was a knock on the door.

“If you’re here to kidnap me, I’m not in the mood,” she called as Danny poked his head around the door.

“Oh, me neither,” he nodded.

“Ah, Daniel.”

“I came to give you these back,” Danny mused handing Gina her Dictaphone and cell phone.

“Why thank you,” she mused before noticing the 102 missed calls. “Oh dear.”

“Please tell me you don’t want my reviews by tomorrow?” Danny chided.

“I could be cruel and do that.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Danny smirked. “I’ll come back later,” he added and slipped back out of the room.

Gina looked at her phone and discovered all the calls were from her editor, minus the two from her Mum. She took a deep breath before deciding to take the gamble and talk to him.

“Make it quick, I’m trying to get topless photos of Fergie.”

“Brian, hi, it’s Gina.”

“Coleman? Where the fuck have you been? I’ve had no reviews from Edinburgh in over a week.”

“Sorry about that, my laptop died and I lost my phone.”

“Why didn’t you use a payphone or the phone in your hotel room.”

“I have a phobia of phones that aren’t my own. Been seeing a psychiatrist for years, very rare mental condition actually.”

“Coleman.”

“Yes, Brian, you cuddly snuggle bear.”

“What about Brannigan. Does he suffer from the same condition?”

“No, he was off fucking a model in Spain.”

Brian let out a long sigh and it was obvious he was rubbing his temples. “I want all the reviews you owe me in, in two days.”

“Will do sir.”

“And Coleman.”

“Yes Brian.”

“If I ever find out what you’ve really been up to, I will kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first, sir.” Gina smiled as she ended the call.

Greg and Paul traipsed into the lobby of their hotel, both looking as though they’d gone ten rounds with a large salmon.

“Paul, where the fuck you been?” Cameron wailed as he appeared from the bar with Mick in tow. “Or more to the point, what the fuck happened to you?”

“We’ll talk later,” Greg sighed and slapped Paul on the back as he departed.

“Yeah, later mate,” Paul replied.

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Mick gasped.

“Yes, that would be from the fucking gaping wound on my head and my split lip, among other things,” Paul sighed.

“We’ve had to cancel shows, you know,” Cameron continued.

“Yeah, well you can tell me all about it when I give a fuck, okay?” Paul groused and headed toward the elevator.

“We’ve been telling everyone you were kidnapped and being held at gunpoint,” Mick nodded. “What’s the real story?”

“Wasn’t so much gunpoint as anything that could inflict damage on my vital organs.”

Cameron chuckled. “Yeah right, you were off fucking Gina.”

Paul rolled his eyes and let the elevator doors close as Cameron and Mick started asking lewd questions that he had no desire to answer.

“…No you don’t understand. I know the fans are pissed off, I’d be pissed off. Hell, I am pissed off. I was mourning the loss of a very good friend. No, I can’t tell you who it was. Why? Because it’s none of your fucking business. I’m an emotional person, you know? You can’t just get over death. I was crying myself to sleep for a week. You what? I don’t care if they want refunds, give them the fucking refunds. No, I will not do extra shows. I want to get home to my wife…” Greg slammed the phone down and let out an annoyed grunt. His publicist was furious, and apparently so were fans, who weren’t taking ‘he just disappeared’ as an excuse. Greg sauntered into the bathroom and turned the shower on before he peeled off his clothes, dropped his glasses on the sink and slid under the steaming water. As he felt the warmth returning to his skin, he realised he was going to have a lot to tell his therapist, and began amusing himself by voicing a possible scenario.

“So, Mr. Proops, I understand you’ve been on tour recently?” Greg began as he reached for the shampoo. “Why yes, that’s right, I was in Britain. How did you find that? It was very enjoyable at first, lots of gigs and catching up with old friends. I ran into Paul, Gina’s husband. We got really drunk on more than one occasion, he was being stalked by a psycho girl.” He washed the shampoo out and reached for the conditioner. “When did you feel things weren’t going well? Oh probably when the rental car exploded in Amsterdam. See, Gina, yeah, she’s reappeared in my life again. She and Paul got kidnapped and we had to save them.” He washed the conditioner out and fumbled around for the soap. “How did you feel meeting with Gina again? Well, we came face to face after she and Paul rescued me from a windmill after I was drugged. I felt my usual amount of lust toward her, and while hiding out in a dead old lady’s place we shared an intimate moment.” He washed the soap from his body and fiddled with the taps. “How intimate? Oh not as intimate as the moment I shared with Ritza. Yeah, the woman who tried to kill us. Turns out she fancied me, and fucked each other’s brains out in a bout of drunken lust.” Greg stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “How did that make you feel? Guilty. But not toward my wife, to Gina. So we talked it over and decided that should our relationships crash and burn, we will got to Mongolia and raise goats…Hey, where are you going? Don’t leave…”

“I have never been so happy to wear a pair of comfortable cotton panties in my life,” Fenny declared as he sauntered out of the bathroom in only her comfortable clean underwear.

“Still, you’ll keep the red stuff, right?” Brad smiled from where he was sprawled on the bed in only a pair of grey cotton boxers.

“Maybe,” Fenny said coyly as she removed the towel from her hair and hunted out a comb.

“Sorry I’ve been spending so much time in Montana,” Brad announced unexpectedly.

“Hey, what can you do? Lilly adores you, Mochrie pines, and Gus needs a male role model.”

“Was that understanding and acceptance?”

“I’ve been under pressure lately,” she said innocently.

He gave her a sultry smile before her leapt forward and pulled her onto the bed. she let out a squeal, which turned into uncontrollable giggles.

“Do you know I’ve never been so scared in my life?” he said quietly as he held her, looking honestly into her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s over now,” she soothed and brought her lips tenderly to his. He kissed her briefly, and then rested his head on her chest. She stroked his hair, his stitches serving as a horrible reminder of what could have been.

“Promise me, when we get back to LA, that we’ll tell each other how much we love each other everyday,” he murmured.

“Can I tell you 31 times now, just in case I forget over the next month?” she mused. Brad lifted his head and looked at her amused. “No?”

“You’re a crazy woman, Fenella Sherwood.”

“That makes me sound like a cologne or a porn star,” she remarked.

“Brad and Fenella Sherwood in – Amsterdam: The Story of the Red Corset,” Brad said in his best announcers voice. “Staring the roguishly handsome Brad Sherwood as the gambler.”

“Paul ‘buns of steal’ McDermott as the dealer,” she added.

“Gina Coleman-McDermott as the feisty blonde.”

“Daniel Brannigan as the tanned piece of Aussie eye candy.”

“Hey?”

“Just going with you,” Fenny shrugged.

“Gregory Proops and the cynical crybaby.”

“And introducing Ritza Crispin and the ball-tearing Mafia bitch.”

“With, the sexy Fenella Sherwood in the red corset.” Fenny and Brad both started to laugh, the seriousness of the last few days lost in a few seconds of stupidity.

“Well, what shall we do?” Brad asked still smiling.

“Hmm. We could dig out a Scrabble board?” Fenny mused. “Or Scattagories.”

“Things starting with ‘T’,” he declared. “Teeth” he said and kissed her.

“Tickles,” she grinned and gently ran her fingers over his sides, making him giggle.

“Thighs,” he piped up and grabbed her leg to drop several kisses on her thigh.

“Brad!” she squealed.

“Doesn’t begin with a ‘T'”

“So sorry,” she chided. “Testosterone.”

“Temptress.”

“Turn on.”

Brad swallowed, “Taboo.”

“Tango,” Fenny said huskily, moving her lips closer to Brad’s.

“Tantalising,” he breathed, his lips millimetres from hers.

“Titillate,” she managed to utter before the game was lost to a rather passionate session of Twister (without the mat.)

Paul looked at the emaciated mongoose that was perched on the dresser, its glass eyes staring into the distance. He’d been forced to explain where Troy came from to Cameron and Mick, eventually pleasing them with a story about a daring theft from a Moroccan museum. He turned back to the mirror to do up his shirt, the wounds of his past week still clearly visible. Still, Don was dead now, and that could only mean a release from all that shit. A shiver ran down his spine as it occurred to him: all things come in threes. Certainly he never thought kidnapping would be one of them, but seeing three corpses, that was a stunner and something he was unlikely to ever forget. He jumped a mile when there was a wrap on knuckles on the door.

“I’m busy masturbating,” Paul called.

“Can I come in anyway?” Gina’s voice mused from the other side of the door. He wandered over and unlocked the door. “You lie,” she chided.

“Only to the ones I love,” he smiled.

“Mick and Cam asked me how Morocco was,” she asked blankly.

“They’re dickheads, ignore them.”

“Pretty hard when they chase you across the lobby, into the elevator, and down two corridors.”

“You lie, they’d never use that much energy.”

“Okay, so I checked the bar first.”

“Did you call Brian?” Paul asked as he sat on the bed to pull his socks on.

“Yeah, he yelled a lot,” Gina mused. “It’s all sorted though,” she added as she sat next to him.

“I can’t wait until I’m finished here. I never thought I’d be so happy to get away from Edinburgh and back to Sydney,” he sighed.

“I know how you feel,” she agreed.

“I’m even excited about us finally getting a place together and doing coupley stuff. Like baking cakes and washing the cat.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship before?” she teased.

“You know what I mean,” he pouted, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you happy? You’re not still angry at me are you?”

“How about we just stop talking and make out until dinner?”

“I like the way you think,” Paul grinned as Gina pulled him down onto the bed.

“What a surprise, the couples are taking the longest,” Greg huffed, scanning the menu for the sixth time.

“Oh stop bloody whinging,” Ritza scorned and snatched the menu from him.

“I’m with Greg, I’m starving,” Danny grumbled. “Finally, they emerge from the battle of the pork swords,” he added as Fenny and Brad appeared hand in hand.

“Oh, shut up or I’ll attack you with the fish knife,” Fenny chided.

“Always with the fish knife,” Danny pouted.

“Have we ordered? What are we eating? Where’s the wine list?” Paul babbled as he and Gina appeared.

“Oh, no Troy,” Brad said sadly.

“No, Genie wouldn’t let me bring him,” Paul pouted.

“Thank god for that,” Ritza breathed.

“I need to pee,” Fenny announced.

“Me too,” Gina piped up.

“We’ll be back,” Fenny declared as the two women headed toward the restrooms.

“Always in twos,” Brad said, baffled. “Ritza why do women…”

“Because they can,” Ritza sighed.

“Can we order? Please,” Danny begged.

“Gotta wait until the girls get back,” Paul said blankly.

“Gee this is fun,” Greg sarced.

“God, if he doesn’t cheer up, I’ll attack him with the fish knife,” Brad scorned.

“Is it weird to be happy after all that’s happened?” Fenny asked as she washed her hands.

“I know, it’s weird. How’s things with Braddles?” Gina queried.

“Oddly fantastic. How’s things with Pauly?”

“They’ll be almost perfect until I tell him I can’t go home with him.”

“No, that’s not going to go down well…”

“At least one of us isn’t quite so fucked up.”

“Makes a change. Don’t worry, Paul worships you, things’ll be…” Fenny paused as the restroom door opened and Freya walked in.

“Oh my god, you guys!” she squealed.

“How did I know that was going to happen?” Gina breathed.

“Have you seen Pauly? I’ve been looking for him for days?” Freya said, all thoughts of Gina being his wife seemingly gone from her tiny little mind.

“You know, I don’t think we have,” Fenny piped up before Gina could say a word.

“Aw, shame.” Freya pouted. “Oh well, have to tinkle,” she added and disappeared into a cubicle.

“Can I kill her? There’s still four burial plots left?” Gina groused.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Fenny smiled deviously.

“If they don’t hurry up, I’m going in there and dragging them out,” Danny huffed.

“Like to see that, Bambi,” Ritza mused.

“Finally, here they come,” Paul sighed.

“I’m concerned that they’re laughing hysterically,” Brad announced.

“I never realised urination was that enjoyable,” Greg agreed.

“Isn’t it a lovely evening?” Gina perked as she sat herself next to Paul.

“Have you two done something?” Paul asked.

“Us? No, we just went to the bathroom,” Fenny smiled before they both snickered.

“Let’s order now,” Danny begged.

“Please, before I break his neck,” Ritza groused.

“If we ever get kidnapped again – don’t bring Dan,” Paul mused, looking at Greg.

“Can I take your order?” asked a waitress who produced a notepad and smiled warmly.

“A bit of everything and lots of tequila,” Brad piped up.

“Oh, how specific,” Fenny jeered.

“Hands raised, who wants everything and tequila?” Brad asked, and the other men raised their hands.

“Who just wants tequila?” Gina asked the men all raised their hands. “This is going to take some time,” she smiled at the waitress.

“HELP!” Freya squealed as she banged on the cubicle door after it became mysteriously stuck. “I’M TRAPPED. SOMEBODY, ANYBODY, PLEASE!”