Gina looked at the almost unfamiliar keys in her hand and unlocked the door of her apartment. She was greeted by an unmistakable musty smell; one that told her a window hadn’t been opened in months. She dropped her bags in the hall and sauntered into the kitchen. She glanced at her pile of mail on the table as she wandered to the window and opened it, letting the cool air that blew off the harbour fill the room.

Gina looked around her small kitchen and knew she’d been away too long. The job in London had been truly wonderful, but the depressing London weather combined with her longing for Paul had made the decision to come home an easy one. She smiled slightly at the prospect of surprising Paul by turning up on his doorstep. Unfortunately reality came first: unpacking, showering and a run over with the vacuum cleaner. Then she’d be ready to fall into Paul’s arms and retrieve her poor dejected cat, Lewis.

Fenny stood at the baggage claim feeling too tired to properly pay attention to whether their bags had appeared or not.

“They out yet, sweetie?” Andy perked, beaming enthusiastically.

“What? Oh, the bags no,” Fenny mused. “That shirt is terrible.”

“You don’t think it says Australia?”

“I think it screams, ‘Yes, I’m American’.”

“Well hello Miss Stereotype,” Andy teased and grabbed her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Fenny giggled and wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek resting against his chest.

“Oh hey, there’s one,” he suddenly announced and disentangled himself to fetch it. As Fenny watched Andy squish his way between the crowded, grumpy travellers, she couldn’t help but smile. This must have been the first time in a long time she could say, without doubt, that she was happy, and she owed it all to Andy. She hadn’t meant to fall for the good-looking, sweet-talking, advertising guru. But he’d made her feel so loved and so secure that it had been hard not to. After all that had happened with Brad, it was nice to be in a simple, uncomplicated relationship.

“I’ve got everything, let’s go,” Andy grinned as he returned pushing a trolley laden with their luggage.

The couple walked out into the terminal and Andy scoured the crowd. He noticed a man in a suit holding a cardboard placard with “Andrew Timms” blazoned across it.

“That looks like Danny,” he announced to Fenny who, to be honest, wasn’t really interested. They approached the man who grinned broadly and extended his hand.

“You must be Andrew Timms.”

“Danny Brannigan, right?” Andy perked as they shook hands.

“We’re pleased you could make it to Australia,” Danny enthused.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, man. I mean this is going to be huge.”

“You better believe it, mate.”

Fenny took the liberty to wrap her hands around Andy’s arm and he looked at her with an expression that said he’d forgotten she was there.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Danny smiled, and extended a hand to Fenny rather than wait to be introduced.

“Fenny,” she nodded and shook his hand.

“Welcome to Australia, Fenny,” Danny winked. “Right, let’s get you two to the hotel. I can imagine you’ll be hungry.”

“Well, technically no…it’s after dinner in the States,” Andy pointed out.

Fenny heard Danny cough but it sounded more like “prick” and she stifled a giggle.

“I could go for McDonald’s,” she piped up.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Andy laughed. “You can have decent hotel food.”

Fenny rolled her eyes but decided not to push her luck.

After thoroughly cleaning her apartment, showering and sticking a load of washing on, Gina had slid behind the wheel of her restored Beetle, which she’d missed greatly, and driven through the heavy traffic and winding streets to Paul’s apartment block. By the time she found herself outside his door, she was beginning to feel nervous. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure. Certainly their communications had been strained lately with her being so busy and him appearing never to be home. Still, that was all about to change. She pondered letting herself in but instead decided to surprise him further and knocked on the door.

Several seconds later she heard muffled fumbling before the door opened a little and Paul peered around.

“Genie,” he gasped, trying to hide his shocked expression as he opened the door slightly more. Gina noticed he had a bed sheet wrapped around his waist.

“Surprise,” she smiled.

“What are you doing here? When did you get back?” he asked, holding tightly to his bed sheet.

Gina was slightly taken aback but tried not to let it show. “I got back this morning, I quit my job in London.”

“Why? I thought it was your dream job?”

“I wanted to be with…” Before Gina could finish, a woman appeared and draped her arms around Paul’s neck. She appeared to be wearing one of his shirts. Her dark hair fell over his shoulder.

“Hi.” She smiled at Gina, and Paul looked sheepish. “Is he being useless?”

Gina had to fight for words. “No, but he might be rendered that way soon.”

“Gina this is Freya, Freya this is Gina,” Paul breathed.

“Oh, so you’re friends,” Freya perked.

Gina crossed her arms. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“Don’t be an ungrateful host darling, let her in,” Freya ordered as she let go of him. Paul moved aside and Gina glared at him as she stalked into the apartment.

“I’ll get some pants on,” he mumbled and padded off to the bedroom.

“Can I get you a cup of herbal tea or something?” Freya asked, sweet enough to make Gina want to throw something at her.

“No, I’m only here to get my cat,” Gina replied.

“Oh, so you’re the one Paul’s been looking after him for,” Freya cooed. “He’s under the bed in the spare room, I’ll get him for you.”

“Thanks,” Gina said with a sardonic smile as Freya disappeared down the hall and into the spare room. Paul reappeared adjusting the belt on his jeans.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed.

“Sorry?” Gina gasped and then found herself not being able to find the right words. “Who is she?”

“She’s an arts journalist, we met at an exhibition,” Paul sighed, looking at the floor.

“And?”

“And I like her a lot.”

“You like Herbal Tea Woman a lot?”

Paul nodded and looked up. He could tell Gina was struggling to keep it together and he felt compelled to hug her, but stopped just short of doing so.

“Does she know your married?” Gina breathed.

“No, I haven’t found the right moment,” Paul mumbled as Freya reappeared. They both jumped like they’d been caught in the act. “And I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell her,” he added quietly.

“He doesn’t want to come out,” Freya announced.

“So I’ve been told,” Gina mused, looking at Paul. The joke was lost on Freya, who looked bewildered.

“You told her about the kitty then?” she asked.

“She wasn’t talking about the…Yeah, he’s under the bed, won’t come out,” Paul replied.

Gina rolled her eyes. “Show me,” she ordered and followed Freya back to the spare room.

Freya crouched down and began trying to coax Lewis, who looked absolutely mortified, out from under the bed. Lewis moved back further and after a few painful seconds Gina stepped forward.

“Lewis, here puss,” she cooed. The ginger tom gave a frantic mew and pulled himself up from his haunches and padded over to her. Gina promptly lifted him into her arms and he purred appreciatively as she smiled wryly. Well, at least one of the men in her life still loved her.

“Would you look at that view,” Andy gasped as he stared in awe at the underside of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

“Yeah, it’s truly fascinating,” Fenny teased as she appeared from the bathroom, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.

“Hey, not all of us have been downunder before, you know,” Andy chided and pulled her into his arms.

“Trust me when I say it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I’ll make this trip memorable for you if it kills me.”

“You never know,” Fenny chuckled. Andy looked at her strangely. “Never mind babe.”

“I’m scared to leave you now.”

“Leave me? Where you going?” she asked, bending down to unzip her bag.

“Drinks with a few colleagues. I’ll be back for dinner, promise,” Andy cooed.

“You’re not going to spend the whole time working, are you?”

“Of course not, I need to spend some time with my princess.” He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers, then pulled away. “Wear something sexy at dinner.”

“Jeans can be sexy,” Fenny smirked as Andy blew her a kiss and disappeared out of the room. She sat on the edge of the bed and went back to pawing through her bag looking for clothes. Eventually she found a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, which she pulled on and then searched for socks. Her hand brushed against something in a side pocket and she pulled it out. She flattened out the ball of scrunched paper and then burst into giggles: it was a list of 100 things she and Paul would rather be doing. They’d written it in France when they’d been trapped in the hotel room. Fenny folded the list and slid it in her back pocket. There was no way she was spending the afternoon in a hotel room, she already had issues about that.

After seeing Freya off to work, Paul had spent the rest of the morning lying on his back on the couch trying to tell himself he was feeling more of a heartless bastard than he actually was. He’d nearly died when he saw Gina standing there; it wouldn’t have been so bad if Freya hadn’t been there, half-naked, draped over him. He had a small inkling she’d done it deliberately. Though, even he had to admit the whole thing with Lewis was hysterical. The cat had instantly hated Freya, even when she declared that “cats just love me,” and he’d taken a chunk out of her index finger. Paul sometimes felt that Gina could control the cat through mind control. Well, that would go a long way to explaining his testicles getting clawed the morning after he’d first slept with Freya.

Paul was pondering paying Gina a visit. He needed to explain, soothe, and clear his conscience. Hell, by rights he should go to confession. Hey, that wasn’t a bad idea. He was about to hunt out a Bible when there was a knock at the door. He wasn’t expecting visitors, and if it was a salesman he was going to scream. Paul unlocked the door and got his second shock of the day.

“Fenny,” he beamed.

“Hey Pauly,” Fenny grinned and wrapped him up in a hug.

“What are you doing here?” he gasped, hugging her back.

“Business, sorta,” she replied as she followed Paul into the living room.

“Business?”

“Yeah, not mine. My ah, partner, Andy’s.”

Paul gave Fenny an bemused look. “Andy, hey? And what does Andy do?”

“He’s in advertising.”

“What? Has he drugged you? Are you ill?” Paul teased, feeling her forehead.

“Get off me you idiot,” she giggled and sat herself on the couch. He flumped next to her. “All you need to know is I’m very happy.”

“Obviously. Last time I heard from you, you were contemplating becoming a woman of the cloth.”

“And how are you doing?”

“Yeah, not so good. Well I was good, but then as usual with my life, things went to shit,” Paul mumbled.

“In English, please.”

“I’ve kinda met someone too. Freya.”

“And?”

“Genie turned up this morning. She quit her job in London, I think for me, and I feel awful.”

“So you should! Everyday she emails me and talks about nothing but you,” Fenny cussed.

“Oh don’t make me feel worse than I already do,” Paul whined.

“So what’s Freya like?”

“She’s an arts journalist.”

“What? That’s her only personality trait?”

“Hey, why don’t you meet her before you judge, okay,” Paul huffed.

“What are you suggesting? A double date?” Fenny laughed.

“Yeah, you and Andy can come for dinner,” Paul nodded.

“You’re not cooking, right?”

“No, I’m not cooking.”

“Okay, but if I don’t like what’s-her-face, you have to dump her.”

“Get fucked.”

“You offering?”

Paul looked at Fenny, bemused. “You dirty girl.”

“I blame Gina,” she sighed. “Speaking of which, I better make sure she hasn’t decided to hunt Freya down and ritually kill her.”

“Tell her I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

“Tell her yourself,” she scorned as she got to her feet, then remembered the list in her back pocket and pulled it out. “Here I found this,” she added, chucking it at Paul as she headed for the door.

Lewis stretched himself along the length of the arm of the chair before he surveyed his next destination. He decided a nearby beanbag was his best bet and took a flying leap in its direction. He hit the material and sunk straight into it, leaving only his paws visible.

“You stupid cat,” Gina sniffed and retrieved the petrified cat from the beanbag and dropped him back on the chair. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. Nothing worse than being jetlagged and heartbroken at the same time. Gina could feel herself about to descend into floods of tears again when there was a knock at the door. She wiped her face and took several deep breaths before opening it.

“Hey kiddo,” Fenny smiled, noticing the usually cool and calm Gina’s puffy red eyes.

“I thought you weren’t getting in ’til tonight?” Gina said with a weak smile.

“Andy decided we should get here earlier so he could meet and greet,” Fenny sighed.

Gina nodded. “That’s advertising wankers for you.”

“Don’t be horrible,” Fenny teased and then stepped forward to wrap Gina in a hug. “If it’s any consolation, Paul feels terrible.”

“She drinks herbal tea,” Gina scowled as she pulled away from Fenny to let her in.

“Really? Oh my god, maybe she’s…ugh…a vegetarian,” Fenny cringed.

“Paul hates vegetarians.”

“Yes, but this one will give him a blowjob.”

“I want to make a gag about meat, I really do,” Gina said with a small smile as she flumped on the couch.

“That’s the Gina I know,” Fenny teased. “Fight for the man, even though at the moment he’s the lowest form of life on the planet.”

“Anyway, enough about my problems. You fancy going out and getting some lunch before we both get swamped by jet lag?” Gina asked.

“I was about to ask, can we please go to McDonalds?” Fenny pleaded.

“Of course. Andy still anti-fast food?” Gina asked, getting to her feet to hunt for her wallet.

“‘You can have good hotel food’ – fuck that, I’ve been flying for hours, I want grease and sugar,” Fenny scorned.

“My, aren’t we a little rebel?”

“Not really, I just get sick of being told what to do sometimes.”

“Well, I did warn you. It’s never good when a man tells you what you’re going to wear on your first date,” Gina said matter-of-factly as she found her wallet under a newspaper on the coffee table.

“It saved me thinking about it,” Fenny shrugged.

“You’re so weak willed.”

Fenny narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you think Freya and Paul make such a lovely couple.”

“You go around saying things like that and I’ll insert your thickshake somewhere unpleasant,” Gina scorned.

“Sorry.”

Gina shook her head. “Weak as piss.”

“Oh shut up,” Fenny huffed.

“Do you want to walk?” Gina grumbled, grabbing her keys and heading out the door.

“Sorry,” Fenny apologised.

“Stop bloody apologising as well,” Gina laughed as they headed out of the apartment.

Paul sprawled out on the couch again and unfolded the piece of a paper Fenny had given him. He read it aloud to himself.

“100 things we’d rather be doing than being holed up in a hotel room by psychopaths, by Paul McDermott and Fenella Grey,” he began. He picked numbers at random: “’Number 77 eating the tops off chocolate chip muffins,’ fuck we must have been deliriously hungry. ‘Number 32, eating the contents of tacos off the stomachs of our lovers.’ ‘Number 10, running naked through Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory’,” Paul started to laugh, not sure whether it was because of the idea or the fact it was number ten. He quickly regained his composure and was about to continue reading when, for the third time that day, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Paul stuffed the list behind a cushion, slid off the couch and bounded over to the door, where he got his third surprise of the day.

“Hi, I’m from the fucked up Yank exchange program,” Brad beamed.

“Sherwood,” Paul gasped. “By jingo, by crikey, it’s been like a family reunion today.”

“Huh?” Brad asked bewildered.

“Come in,” Paul smiled and moved aside to let Brad in. “Through there mate,” he added and pointed Brad in the direction of the living room. Brad fell into an armchair and Paul sat back on the couch.

“What did you mean by family reunion?” Brad asked, stretching out.

“Genie turned up today, quit her job in London,” Paul replied.

“Yeah, great, she around?”

“Um, at her place probably. My girlfriend was here.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Freya.”

“You dog.”

“Fuck off,” Paul huffed. “I had another visitor, too. Fen.”

Brad looked shocked for a moment and then shook himself out of it. “And how is she?”

“Exceedingly happy with Andy the advertising wanker.”

“She’s dating an advertising guy?” Brad gasped, looking nothing short of disgusted.

“Yep, they’re both here. He’s on business,” Paul mused.

Brad looked like he wanted to throw something. “Well, I’m very happy for her.”

Paul laughed. “Bullshit. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“A holiday mostly,” Brad sighed. “For some reason I decided to attempt to see some of Australia without a gun to my head.”

“Always a good start.”

“Possibly. I plan to see Ritza.”

“And someone’s pushed the sanity boat right out of the harbour,” Paul jeered.

“I know it sounds insane, but there’s issues there I need to deal with,” Brad nodded.

“I suggest buying a bullet proof vest and investing in a semi-automatic weapon,” Paul scorned.

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry mate,” Paul smiled. “Hey, do you need somewhere to crash, you’re welcome to stay here.”

“Oh hey, I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s the least I can do since I destroyed your kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Brad smiled. “Freya won’t mind?”

“She’s got her own place if she does.”

“Right. So, fancy a celebratory drink at the pub?”

“I shouldn’t,” Paul replied sheepishly. “Freya doesn’t like me drinking.”

Brad started to snigger. “Whipped.”

Paul narrowed his eyes and then jumped to his feet. “Ok, just one.”