by Sean Kennedy
But there were two things I had to clear first.
“I can’t leave without Nyssa,” I told Gigi.
Gigi laughed. “I thought as much. You two are far too loyal to each other to survive in this business!”
I looked at her blankly. “You already asked her?”
“Yes, and despite the fact it would be a promotion for her, she said she couldn’t leave you.” Gigi gave a small, self-satisfied giggle. “She was very relieved when I said I was going to be offering you the local acquisition leader role.”
Now I had to bring up what could be the deal breaker. “I’m not being offered this job because of… well, the fact I seem to turn up in the media quite a bit?” I had to know if Declan wasn’t going to be on my arm for required social functions whether the offer would be rescinded.
Gigi looked at me over the rim of her glass. “I hire people because of what they can do with the job. I’ve seen your work for the past few years, Simon. I just had to wait and ascertain it wasn’t a fluke and then make sure I snatched you up before somebody else did.”
“Oh.” Compliments didn’t sit well with me.
“So, what do you think?”
“I’ll have to talk to Nyssa.”
Gigi smiled smugly. “I’ll get your business cards made up on Monday.”
NYSSA tackled me to the ground, and we rolled around on the grass quite unbecomingly for festival runners.
“This is brilliant!” she howled. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me!”
I briefly wondered if I had ever shown as much loyalty to Declan as I did to Nyssa that night, but I did truly think that was one thing I couldn’t doubt about myself.
I sat with my friends in a small copse of trees a little way from the amphitheatre, where our talking wouldn’t disturb the festivalgoers who were now watching the first film of the evening.
A bottle of champagne had been lifted from the bar, and I was allowing myself one celebratory drink as Nyssa and I toasted to our new jobs.
“What are we celebrating?” came a voice from behind us.
I turned to see Lisa with Abe standing slightly behind her. Of course, I looked for Declan, and I don’t think either of them missed my searching expression. Recovering quickly, I jumped up and hugged them both. “I’m really glad you came. Nyssa and I have been headhunted for another festival, we just found out ten minutes ago.”
“You really want to leave the Triple F?” Lisa asked.
“Oh, you know,” I said offhandedly, “new horizons, blah blah blah.”
Lisa took me by the elbow and led me off a little way from the others, who pretended not to notice even though they knew exactly what we would be talking about.
But before Lisa could start, I turned to Abe.
“I just wanted to apologise about the Brownlows.”
Abe shrugged with characteristic nonchalance. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I was a dick.”
Abe laughed. “Okay, you were a little bit. But I understand why. I was just trying to help.”
“I know, and I’m trying to work on being more gracious when people help me.” I held out my hand. Abe smirked, gave it a quick shake, and pulled me into a hug. His build reminded me of Declan’s, and I pulled away quicker than I would with most friends. It felt familiar, but wrong. “Be careful. There’s press about.”
“Oh yeah,” Abe said mockingly, and he soft-punched me in the shoulder. “That better?”
“That’s the usual manly gesture of affection, yeah.”
“We really thought he would be here tonight,” Lisa said, returning to the subject we knew had to be brought up. The white elephant in the middle of the festival.
I loved her, but the words burned. “Lisa, please don’t make me want to believe something that might not be true.”
“Do you really think I would do that to you?” she asked.
“No,” I said immediately, honestly. “But did he really say that?”
Abe stepped in. “He was thinking about it. But maybe he knew seeing you for the first time in a place where media would be wasn’t the best idea.”
“But he did think about it?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes!” they said in exasperated unison.
“What about that guy he’s been photographed with?” I asked pathetically.
“Simon, what did I tell you about being stupid?” Lisa asked, looking like she wanted to whack me.
I nodded. “Is he home?”
“That’s where we left him,” Abe said.
They both looked at me expectantly.
“Do you think—”
“Do we have to fucking drive you there?” Abe asked.
I shook my head. “Can you take Roger and Fran home?”
With that sorted, I ran back to the others. I wasn’t sure how things had suddenly changed, but Declan must have said something to them tonight he hadn’t shared before. I knelt beside Nyssa and whispered into her ear. She broke into a huge smile and said, “Go. I’ll handle everything.”
I looked at Fran; Nyssa’s smile was practically a reflection of her own.
“Gotta go.”
“Where’s he going?” I heard Roger ask. I didn’t hear Fran’s reply as I ran back past Abe and Lisa, but I’m sure it was probably a comment on how dense he could be sometimes.
BUT the surprises of the night were not done with me yet. As I raced towards the car park, someone called my name. I debated running on and pretending I hadn’t heard them, but they called it again insistently.
I turned, only to find Jasper Brunswick.
“Hey, Jasper,” I said breathlessly. “Catch up with you later, catering emergency—”
The fact I had been speaking to him for five seconds and hadn’t insulted him yet immediately put him on alert. “I was just speaking to some of the press—”
I wondered if I could throw him off the scent. “You know, I just wanted to thank you for the interview you did with Declan.”
He couldn’t have been more surprised if I had dropped to one knee and offered him an engagement ring. “Excuse me?”
“Just, it was nice, that’s all. Maybe you should do more stories like that rather than your gossip columns. Now, I really have to—”
His eyes narrowed. “Why isn’t Declan here?”
“He had other commitments,” I sighed.
“I’ve noticed you’ve both been a bit AWOL since the Brownlows.”
“Well, we’re trying to keep it low key lately. No oversaturation of the media, you know what I mean?”
He stared at me without any hint of mercy. “Not really. Anything you want to share, Simon?”
“Nope.” I shook my head vehemently. “Except, don’t eat the mushroom puffs. They may give you gastro.”
I was lying; there weren’t any mushroom puffs.
Jasper was relentless. “What about these reports of Declan with other guys?”
I tried to appear as casual and nonchalant as possible. “You would probably know better than anyone else what the media can be like. Anything to sell a story.”
“Well, as you just pointed out, I’m trying to move past that now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But getting back to you and Declan, it would be tough trying to make a relationship last in these circumstances. With all the pressure from the media.”
“What, like being waylaid when trying to solve an epicurean crisis?” I laughed.
Jasper didn’t laugh, however.
“Look, Jasper. We’re fine.”
And before he could say anything else, I ran. We would be fine, if someone would just let me get out of Fairfield.
In movies there is this rousing, emotional moment when the hero or heroine does something grand and stupid to get their love back at the last moment. I jumped into my car, determined to drive to the Docklands and see Declan. I would let myself into his complex, and because I was so desperate I would think the lift was taking too long to reach the ground floor, so
I would have to run up the stairs (because my fitness levels magically increased in my fantasies). Declan would open his door, shocked but happy, because my presence, of course, is the thing he has desired most. We would kiss passionately, he would tell me he was waiting for me, and then we would go into the bedroom, undress each other feverishly, and white lace curtains would billow in the background before the scene faded to black.
Or something like that. Of course, if your film is more like a 1940s melodrama, there is the tragic happenstance that stops the planned reunion from taking place. And my life, it seems, is more like a 1940s melodrama. Driving while high on adrenaline and emotion is not the smartest thing to do. I was wired, anxious, and fearful. In that part of Fairfield, because it was a large parcel of natural bushland, there were few streetlights to guide my way. So when a dog ran across the road as I was getting closer to the more suburban part of the area, I swerved and managed to avoid it, but forgot that I was on an embankment which would have been easy to see in the daylight.
The ground seemed to tilt beneath me as my car slid sideways down the embankment, chucking up plumes of gravel. As the car hit the bottom on an angle, my seatbelt snapped, and I fell against the passenger door, the headlights showing how close I had come to ploughing into a tree.
“Oh fuck,” I managed to grunt.
Chapter 30
WHEN I tried to move, my shoulder screamed with pain. Actually, I screamed with pain as well. My forehead throbbed and felt sticky, and when I touched it with my good hand it came away bloody. I was strangely calm; whenever there wasn’t anything really wrong with me I tended to panic and overact, but it seemed in the face of real injury I was remarkably resilient. I knew head wounds tended to bleed freely even if only a small one, so I was more concerned about the arm.
Trying not to move it as much as possible, I pulled myself upright with my good arm. It was like being in The Poseidon Adventure, although my car was sideways rather than upside down. I was going to have to get out through the driver window, which currently resembled a sun roof. My bag was lying at my feet, and I looped it around my neck and began wriggling out of the window, using my good shoulder to latch onto the opposite side of the roof and pull myself out.
I could hear voices above me. It turned out that people coming from the opposite direction had seen my car veer off the road, and they had stopped to investigate. An ambulance and the police had already been called, and my good Samaritans hoisted me out of the ditch and up onto the bitumen of the road.
By the time the ambulance arrived, the police had already breathalysed me; my three or four sips of champagne barely registered, and I was cleared to go to the hospital.
I felt stupid that an ambulance had been called as my injuries weren’t that extreme, but as the officers explained, I couldn’t drive because of my shoulder, and the minor fact of my car presently lying at an angle in a deep ditch. So I meekly hopped into the back and lay down on the stretcher; one of the ambos cleaned the blood from my head, immobilised my arm and applied a couple of stitches to stem the bleeding.
In the lobby of the emergency room at the hospital, I knew it would be a while before I was seen by a doctor. It was Saturday night, and although the night was still young, the department was full. I was glad I hadn’t been injured a couple of hours later, or else I would have been here until Monday. I rang Roger’s mobile; it was Fran who picked up.
“Well?” she answered happily. “Can you put Declan on to say hi?”
“Uh, I don’t want you to panic, but I’m at the Austin.”
“He put you in hospital?” she screamed.
It was then I realised that she had had a little too much to drink. “Get a grip, Fran. Put Roger on.”
Even though Roger was more sober, he was still Roger. “Declan beat you up?”
“Is there anybody with a working brain still with you guys?” I asked, exasperated.
“We’re home already.”
“Already?”
“We were bored without you. Why are you in the hospital?”
“I didn’t even make it to the Docklands. I ran off the road in Fairfield. I think my car is totalled.”
Roger snorted. “About time somebody put it out of its misery.”
“Thanks, Rog.”
All of a sudden, he kick-started into panic. “Oh fuck, you really are in hospital! We’re on our way!”
“Don’t worry about it! I don’t want you to even think of driving!” That was all I needed.
“We’ll catch a taxi.”
“I’m serious. I’m fine.”
“Shut up. We’re coming.”
There was no further argument, because he hung up on me, and I knew it was useless to try and call back. I sat back, waiting for my name to be called out, and tried to shut out everybody else in the waiting room by concentrating on the blaring television above my head.
“BROKEN collarbone,” the doctor told me.
“Is that it?” I asked, disappointed. “It hurts like hell!”
The doctor shrugged. “It’s still a broken bone.”
“I was hoping it would be something I could sucker more sympathy for. I mean, it’s the kind of injury a kid gets at a rollerskating birthday party.”
He grinned. “You’re covered in blood from your scalp wound. That might get you something.”
I winced as he fitted the sling over the opposite shoulder to the fractured one and manoeuvred my arm into it. “So I have to wear this thing for four weeks?”
“At least,” he looked up. “Looks like your friends are here.”
I turned, expecting to see Roger and Fran.
Declan was standing in the small sliver of light coming from the curtain surrounding my bed.
This was… interesting.
I swallowed heavily. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he replied, his tone neutral.
“The nurse will get your paperwork,” the doctor said, and he moved off to the next patient.
I wanted him to stay, because I had no idea what to say to Declan. Except the obvious question; the only question I could think of.
“How did you know?”
“Roger called me in a panic. He made it sound as if you were at death’s door.”
“He’s a panic merchant, and he’s drunk. So he’s prone to hyperbole.”
“I came down here, expecting to find you in a coma.”
I tried to bite down on the anger rising in me. “Is that the only way you would talk to me? If you thought I couldn’t answer back?”
Declan’s hands were defensively positioned on his hips as he towered over me. “Jesus, Simon. I came here because I was worried. And now I’m wondering if it was all just a ploy to get me down here to finally see you.”
Even he must have known how ridiculous it sounded. “Yeah, I trashed my car on Yarra Boulevard and paid this doctor off to give me a sling just to get you to finally return my calls.” I picked up my jacket and jumped off the bed, ignoring the sudden spinning of the room.
“Where are you going?” Declan demanded.
“To get the paperwork.”
“He said the nurse would bring it. Sit down.”
“Piss off,” I told him.
“Real mature.”
“Look who’s talking.”
He suddenly leaned across me and easily picked me up and placed me back on the bed. What was most amazing was how he managed to avoid my shoulder so it didn’t hurt. My pride was, though.
“I’ll go and look for the paperwork. Stay there.”
I could only sit and fume as he disappeared. I couldn’t even turn on my mobile and find out where Fran and Roger were as we were in the emergency department and urban legend reliably informed me I could make somebody’s heart explode if I did so.
Declan came back and handed me some paperwork in a clipboard. I took it and started to fill it in.
“How long would it have taken?” I asked.
“What?”
“For you to talk to m
e.”
He rubbed his hands against his face. “I don’t know.”
“If you’d just listened to me—”
“Yeah, well, that’s always the problem, isn’t it? We never listen to each other.”
“I was on my way to see you.”
He looked at me, and I thought I saw a softening of his features finally. “Yeah?”
“Lisa and Abe told me that you almost came to the festival.”
“I thought about it.”
“Would you have let me in, if I had made it to your place?”
He avoided the question. “Have you finished the paperwork?”
I tried to reach for his hand, but he pulled it away. “You say we don’t listen, well, sometimes we don’t talk either.”
Declan looked at his watch, and my anger grew.
“Do you have to be somewhere, Declan?”
“No.”
I thought when he turned up here, that it meant he was willing to try and sort things out. But he was closed off, distant. I suddenly found myself wishing he had never come.
“Won’t your boyfriend be wondering where you are?”
Declan looked surprised. “What boyfriend?”
“That’d be right,” I said snarkily. “You’ve had so many recently, you probably don’t even know which one I’m talking about.”
“The guys in the paper?” Dec scoffed. “You know what it’s like. I can’t even ask a guy the time without them speculating over whether I’m fucking him. They’ve published photos of me with my brother-in-law, possible new recruits for the team I’ve been involved in trying out. Even the bloody broadband guy when he came out to fix the cable in the apartment!”
“What, so it’s the closeted ex, then?”
“You can be a real prick when you want to be.”
“Tonight, you’re making me one!” I cried. “Why did you come here? Why haven’t you released a statement saying we’ve broken up? Why haven’t you even told me if we have or not? Why can’t you talk to me now?”
