Fenny hurried through the automatic doors and into the supermarket. What had started out as a pleasantly warm day when she’d gone to the library to research the finer details of drawing genitalia for her class had changed into a much cooler, wetter one by the time she’d finished. She stopped beside a display of washing powder to take off her glasses and wipe the water droplets from the lenses before she snatched up a basket and headed off down the pasta aisle.

She was pondering pasta sauces when she heard an almightily rip and the plastic bag she’d been carrying her library books in tore and they fell to her feet, one sending a piercing pain through her big toe.

“Ow, shit,” she hissed and bent down to collect up her books again. She was rubbing her crushed toe through her sneaker when a familiar pair of feet appeared beside her. She stood up slowly, taking in everything from the well-worn jeans to the rumpled shirt and felt her cheeks redden. “Brad.”

Brad, who’d barely spoken to her since they’d left Australia, shot her a look of disgust. His eyes narrowed and he roughly dropped several packets of pasta and sauce into his basket before turning on his heel and marching off.

“Yeah, nice to see you too,” Fenny breathed, swallowing hard and trying to keep her composure. A woman pushed past her to collect some pasta and grunted something about Fenny being in the way. Fenny felt inclined to attack her with a packet of spaghetti but regained enough composure to finish her shopping and head back out into the downpour.

Fenny looked at the miserable weather, annoyed her car was in the shop, and decided to call a cab. While she waited for the non-English speaking immigrant who didn’t have any idea of the road rules to take her home, she glanced across the car park and observed the various patrons filling their trunks with groceries. Fenny couldn’t help but giggle as an older woman lost control of a bag of oranges and the fruit starting rolling away. Her moment of amusement was quickly overshadowed by her eyes settling on Brad, who was placing his shopping into the back of his car while a thin brunette stood beside him with her hand in his back pocket looking far too cosy for Fenny’s liking.

“Hey lady, you getting in or what?” snapped the cab driver who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Fenny muttered, slipping into the back of the vehicle, her few groceries resting in her lap.

Gina strolled into the Melbourne hotel lobby and glanced around. She noticed a few familiar faces, but no one that she really wanted to fall into conversation with. She caught sight of Paul’s friend Cameron from GUD talking animatedly to someone she’d never seen before, and started heading in his direction. The next thing she knew she had run smack bang into someone’s chest and started apologising profusely.

“Oh, hello Gina,” Ross Noble perked in his slow Northern accent.

“Hi Ross,” Gina laughed. “Sorry for having to get so well aquatinted with your right nipple there.”

“Think nothing of it, you can get close to my nipple anytime.”

“Thanks, I think,” Gina mused. “Ross, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Paul, have you?”

“Funny you should ask,” Ross beamed. “I was talking about him to someone earlier, right, and…” Gina tried very hard to listen to Ross as he went off on one of his bizarre tangents, but she ended up getting lost and distracted. When she tuned in again he finished enthusiastically with, “And then, right, this large chicken came and took him away.”

“Okay, so have you seen him?” she winced.

“No, but I wish I had,” Ross smiled.

“Thanks,” Gina said weakly as she backed away from him, making sure not to run into anybody else, and then turned around only to find that Cameron had disappeared. She let out a disappointed sigh and decided that she would just have to approach the check-in desk and try her luck there.

“Hello, how can I…” the young man behind the desk’s voice trailed off as Gina leaned against the wooden desk. It took her a moment to realise that she was still quite recognisable. Whether she liked it or not, her stint as a newsreader had been more notable than she would have preferred.

“What room is my husband, Paul McDermott, staying in?” she smiled, trying to just get the whole embarrassing ordeal over and done with.

“I’ll just check,” the man declared, regaining his composure and clicked away at his computer for a few seconds. “Room 204.”

“Thank you very much,” Gina perked as she stepped away form the desk and headed toward the elevator. She stepped in and turned to look at the collection of numbered buttons mentally counting what floor Paul’s room would be on. As she pressed one of the buttons, she looked up to see Ross coming in her direction again. Gina made sure to quickly close the doors, beating the button profusely and letting out a relived breath when the doors started to close and the elevator started to move, leaving Ross and his chickens behind. A few moments later she stepped out into a plush hallway. She decided to head right and read the door numbers aloud as she went. “198, 200, 202, 204…”

Fenny arrived home, which came as a bit of a surprise as she was certain she was going to die somewhere between the supermarket and her apartment. She dropped her bags onto the couch and fell into an armchair. How could Brad ignore her, then flaunt some sexy new woman in front of her. Okay, he hadn’t flaunted his new woman, but that wasn’t the point. He had a new woman and was with her in public with no thoughts as to how Fenny might feel should they run into each other. Selfish bastard. She leaned back heavily into the soft fabric of the chair and looked around eagerly for the remote. She didn’t care which remote, just something to take away the dreaded silence that engulfed her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she liked the apartment too much, Fenny would have moved somewhere with fewer memories by now.

It was strange not having Brad snoring on the couch with the television turned up unnaturally loud, or Lilly running around squealing at Mochrie and scribbling on the coffee table. God, she actually missed Lilly, and she wasn’t afraid to admit it to herself. Fenny was used to reading stories about dogs and watching children’s television now. She even missed Lilly’s hugs, the child’s podgy little arms wrapped tightly around her neck while she cooed about how much she loved her ‘Fenny-Mom,’ it made her feel like she was special. Now, Fenny couldn’t even bear to look in Lilly’s brightly coloured bedroom. It wasn’t just sweet little Lilly’s hugs she missed, though, it was Brad’s affection, too. All in all, she might have been able to cope had he gotten angry and vented his feelings at her, but instead he just got hurt and left without so much as a bad word said.

Fenny found the television remote under a discarded newspaper on the coffee table and switched it on. A cooking show flashed onto the screen and she found that even the cheerful dumpy woman making a flan on the screen couldn’t help hide the fact that she was now very much alone. With Brad gone, it meant Lilly and Mochrie were gone, and her little family unit was now broken like so many others. Gina and Paul weren’t talking to her. She’d had no phone calls or emails from her best friends. Her family was still miffed about her little outburst, and she hadn’t been able to find the courage to speak with them again. Finally, there was Danny, who she’d found herself close to calling many times, but felt a slight pang of resentment toward him; if he hadn’t wooed her and been so loving and adoring she wouldn’t be in the mess she was now.

Paul pulled on his jeans and checked his reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes were becoming more prominent, partly from his intensive partying of late. He figured that if he wiped himself out, it might dull the feeling of guilt sitting in his chest. It didn’t, and in return he was sleeping less and less. It was so bad that he wasn’t even sure he had been totally coherent on stage, but the audience still seemed to be enjoying it anyway. A knock at the door caught him by surprise and he jumped a mile.

“Coming!” he called, grabbing the shirt he’d lain out on the bed and pulling it on without doing up the buttons before he opened the door. “Genie,” he gasped as Gina stood before him, arms crossed, head titled to the side. Just her stance made all the blood rush from his brain to his nether regions. His first instinct was to close the door and hide under the doona until she left, the other made his eyes roam over her body. No baby bulge, still a killer body, breasts to die for…

“Hi hon, nice to see you, too,” Gina declared, a hint of amusement in her voice as she noticed where his attention lay.

“You’re not pregnant,” Paul gasped without even thinking.

“Not that I know of,” Gina said, slightly confused as she pushed past him into the room. “Why? You know something I don’t?”

“No, I just, I thought…I’ve made a very big dick out of myself, haven’t I?” Paul sighed, closing the door and continuing to study her.

“Well you technically did up and leave me for no reason for a few months, so yeah.”

“I didn’t want to, I just got scared,” he pouted, toying uncomfortably with his fingers.

“Of what?” she asked, looking at him bewildered.

He looked sheepish. “I thought you were pregnant.”

“PREGNANT?” she gasped. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I found a positive test that day the garbage bag broke on me. I mean, I know it could have been any of you, but…”

“So you thought you’d just up and leave on the chance that I might be?” she groused. “My, that’s reassuring. It’s good to know you’d be so supportive if I was in fact with child.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Paul said quickly, his arms flailing. “I wasn’t scared that you were pregnant, no, I was scared that I was comfortable if you were.”

Gina paused a moment. “Hold on, you left me because you thought I was pregnant and were fine with the whole idea?”

“Uh yeah,” he winced.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she wailed. “That’s the most stupid, illogical…”

“You could be a little bit pleased.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m happy for us to breed now. Well, not right now, but y’know?”

“Are you serious?” Gina gasped, trying to fathom what planet Paul was on at that very moment.

“Hey, did I not abandon you for several months for that very reason?” he enthused. “I mean it’s like that Bryan Adams song. You can see your unborn children in her eyes…”

“Dear god, man, you’re quoting Bryan Adams at me,” she mused, deciding the whole situation was entirely funnier than it would be in any normal person’s life.

“It’s been a while since I’ve slept,” he breathed and rubbed his head, feeling both elated and annoyed, if that was possible. “So what are you doing here, anyway?”

“I figured it was time I brought you home,” Gina smiled. “I know you well enough to know when you’re being a dick.”

“So how’d you know I’d be here?” Paul asked, then realised it was stupid question. It was the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, where else would he be?

“I’m psychic,” she chided. He looked at his feet and then back at Gina with a wry smile.

“So, what do we do now, huh?” he shrugged. “I’ve got nothing planned, you’re looking particularly gorgeous…”

She moved forward and slid her hands inside his open shirt. He grinned appreciatively as she nipped briefly at his chest and then looked up, they locked eyes and she teasingly brought her lips close to his. “You know, I’ve actually got a plane to catch.”

“What? No, you can’t do this to me,” he wailed, reaching out to grab her. He got hold of one of her arms and refused to let go.

“I have to, but I’ll be expecting you home tomorrow,” she smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek and pulled her arm from his grip.

“But, you…EVIL WOMAN!” Paul yelled as Gina laughed her way out of his room.

Fenny absentmindedly reached for another chocolate and brought it to her lips.

“Cockroach Cluster,” she mused as she pondered hunting out a DVD of Monty Python, but instead just swallowed the orange cream and continued to lie otherwise motionless on the couch. She stared at the screen, not taking in the home renovations programme that was on, and felt her eyes start to grow heavy, and she might have nodded off had there not been a knock at the door. Curious as to who was there and vaguely excited someone might actually want to talk, Fenny tumbled off the couch, quickly neatened herself up and opened the door while rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I’ve come to get my…” Brad’s voice trailed off as he looked at her curiously. “You have a big red mark across your nose.”

“I fell face first off the couch,” Fenny shrugged, feeling a slight pang of happiness he was actually talking to her. “You don’t have to knock, you know.”

“I don’t live here. It’s only courteous,” he remarked, stepping into the room as she watched her pang of happiness flee down the hall.

“Right,” she swallowed. “What was it you’ve come to get?”

“My credit card statements,” he breathed as he headed toward the study. “I’ve gotta do my taxes and shit.”

“Yes, right, surely the second part of that statement would be better off completed in the bathroom,” she said, trying to break some of the tension that was filling the room. He looked at her strangely. “Maybe not, huh?”

“You still keep everything in the desk?” he asked, changing the subject and pulling open a desk drawer.

“Yep, even have them in order of more recent to not so recent,” Fenny enthused as Brad reached into the bottom drawer to pull out a rather thick stack of papers. “Oh, let me help,” she gushed and hurried forward to assist. A millisecond later paper went flying in every direction and Fenny let out a squeal. “Shit, sorry.” Brad rolled his eyes and knelt down to start picking up the array of bank statements and she quickly joined him. “I’m so useless and clumsy and shitty and…”

“Fen,” Brad sighed.

“No, don’t try and make me feel better because it’s not worth the energy. I am a stupid, inconsiderate, impossibly clumsy idiot who…” the room was filled with a unanimous yell as the two ex-lovers painfully smacked heads together. “…now has a fractured skull to go with the broken nose.” Fenny looked apologetically at Brad and was surprised to see a wry smile had appeared on his face.

“You never change, do ya Fen,” he mused. “It’s nice to know that you’re still going to injure me substantially whenever we meet.”

“It’s a knack,” she shrugged as they started collecting up all the papers. They were silent until the papers had been placed neatly in a box. “Do you want a drink or something?”

He looked at his watch and winced. “I should really get going.”

“Please, just one, a quick one,” she begged.

He cocked his head to the side. “Fen, I really shouldn’t…”

“No, you’re right,” she agreed, averting her attention to her feet. “While I don’t have any friends or family who want to talk to me anymore, I shouldn’t pressure people into associating with me who obviously don’t want to.”

“You have friends, Fen,” Brad sighed.

“Do I? The Hitchhikers hate me. Gina and Paul hate me. Ritza tried to kill me. Jenna’s gone to Maine to visit an aunt. I’ve banned myself from Greg. My family has basically disowned me. I can’t ever see Danny, and…” Fenny’s voice was being muffled by sniffles. “And you hate me. Not a lot to choose from really.”

“Oh Fen,” Brad breathed. “It’ll sort itself out. Gina and Paul are bound to turn up on the doorstep with some illicit problems, and Jenna will return from Maine…”

“And you?”

He licked his lips and checked his watch. “I should go, have to pick Lilly up tomorrow from her Mom’s.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “It was nice to see you,” she swallowed wiping a tear from her cheek with the cuff of her shirt.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’ll work itself out,” he added, grabbed the box of bank statements and left. Fenny let out the wail that had been building inside her and slid to her knees beside the desk.

Gina checked the clock on the VCR. It was getting near to dinnertime and Paul still hadn’t put in an appearance. She mightn’t have been so bothered if he’d at least called to say that he’d be late. She knew he didn’t have a plausible excuse not to have been there first thing in the morning, well, other than a raging hangover, but the festival was over and he’d seemed excited to see her the previous night. She got to her feet and padded into the kitchen where she placed her empty mug in the sink and looked out on the now flourishing back garden. She was about to warn Lewis to back off from a pigeon when the phone rang. She picked it up from where it’d been left on the breakfast bar and headed back into the living room as she talked.

“Hello.”

“Hey Gina, it’s Cam,” Cameron perked down the line. “Is your pussy whipped husband home?”

Gina laughed. “No, should he be?”

“Well he left the bar early last night because he wanted to be up early to get back to you. Haven’t seen him since,”

“Oh, well, he hasn’t turned up yet,” she replied, a strange sick feeling creeping into her stomach. “I’ll be sure to tell him you called when he does, though.”

“And I’ll let you know if I find him passed out somewhere.”

“Oh, thanks Cam, you’re a darling.” Gina strained to keep the amusement in her voice. “Bye, then,” she added, ending the call. She slid into an armchair, the phone still clutched in her hands, and a horrible feeling that maybe Paul didn’t want to come home after all.

Fenny was halfway out the door when her phone rang. She cursed and juggled her bag and books as she tried to answer it, eventually having to balance the phone in the crook of her neck.

“Yes, hello?”

“Fen, hi, it’s Ella,” the voice on the other end announced, and Fenny wondered instantly why Ella would be calling her. Surely Brad had told her they were no longer together.

“Hi, is there a problem, is Lilly okay?”

“Lilly’s fine, it’s her father I’m worried about.”

“Why? What’s he done?”

“It’s more what he hasn’t done,” Ella sighed. “He’s not come to collect Lilly, and Pete and I are supposed to be going to visit his parents in Colorado.”

“Oh, well, that’s not like him.”

“Exactly, which I was wondering if you might have…”

“Seen him?”

“Yeah.”

“Only briefly last night,” Fenny shrugged. “I’m sure he’s just having car trouble or something. He’s not the smartest man in the world.”

“That’s for sure. I think I’m just anxious about getting away on time.”

“I’ll try calling him if you like,” Fenny offered.

“Oh, would you? Thanks, I have to finish packing.”

“Not a problem,” Fenny mused as she was greeted by the dial tone. She reluctantly placed her bag and books on the coffee table and then dialled Brad’s cell phone number. She was surprised to find herself directed to his message bank and concluded he was probably screwing his new woman against some piece of furniture. “I tried,” Fenny shrugged and swapped the phone for her belongings and headed back toward the door. The phone rang out again and she let out a frustrated huff, dropped her things on the floor and stalked over to grab the phone.

“No, he didn’t answer.”

“Who didn’t?”

“Oh, er, hello?”

“Hi, it’s Jennifer, Greg’s…”

“Wife, yes, I know who you are,” Fenny declared and then wondered why she was being rather short with the woman. “Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you then. I was just wondering if you’d seen Greg, he was supposed to be home hours…”

Fenny listened but wasn’t really paying attention. In the space of a few minutes she’d been asked twice if she knew where two people were. This wouldn’t bother her so much if it wasn’t for the fact the missing people happened to go missing on a rather frequent basis, but they couldn’t have, could they?

“Fenny?”

“What? Oh, I’ll let you know if I see him,” she mumbled and hung up the phone. Her mind was racing and the temptation to call Gina to ask if Paul was there was at the front of her mind. She paced the room, a million awful scenarios flashing through her head like a D-grade movie trailer. She took several deep breaths and steadied herself. The whole idea was ridiculous. This was Brad and Greg, for Christ’s sake, they were probably somewhere safe, with nothing spectacular happening and would turn up soon. “Mountain out of a mole hill,” Fenny breathed, grabbed her things from the coffee table and headed off to class.