by Bree Darcy
“You’re just ticked off you never got a chance to try me out. If only Gerry hadn’t interrupted us that time in Palm Springs … you know you were gagging for it.”
“That’s just what an arrogant tosser like you would believe,” I said.
“AJ believed it.”
“What?”
Heath spoke slowly and deliberately. “I said AJ believed it.” He shook the sugar dispenser over his mug before stirring the coffee with his finger. “I may have accidentally let it slip one night that you and I had done the deed. Actually he didn’t believe me at first, but then I told him Gerry would back me up. You should have seen the poor boy’s face when his best friend admitted he’d caught us together.”
I was speechless.
“Anyway it’s all cool because I told AJ the next morning that I’d been pranking him. As if I’d ever be desperate enough to screw you. So he’s well aware his precious girlfriend never cheated on him.” Heath slurped his coffee, then looked off into the distance thoughtfully. “Although maybe I confessed a tad too late. My memory’s cloudy but I’m sure that was the night we played San Fran State. In fact that would have been the night he first bumped into his baby momma.” Heath turned to me with faux concern. “Gosh, I hope my comment wasn’t what made AJ go off with that Cassie chick. I couldn’t live with myself if I was the reason you guys broke up.”
* * *
My last night in London coincided with a showcase gig at the Armoury for a number of the industry’s bigwigs. Playing from a mezzanine level, the band performed with a ferocious energy and the enthusiastic crowd lapped it up.
“The woman I’m going to marry is here tonight … No, no, I’m not looking for volunteers,” Andy joked with the girls lining the staircase who waved their arms in hope of catching his eye. “This song’s for her.”
I could sense Dan bristling beside me as the band launched into Going the Distance.
Later, I found out his future wife was indeed there, on a scouting mission.
* * *
‘We’re on platform four,” said Dan, swinging the backpack strap over his shoulder. “Ready to go?”
I absolutely hated goodbyes. I’ve been known to well up watching a stranger farewell his family. Heck, when ET walked up that ramp to his spaceship, leaving Elliott behind, I was a complete sobbing mess.
My stomach had churned all morning at the prospect of saying goodbye to Andy.
I gave Gerry a quick hug. “Take care of him, won’t you.”
Gerry nodded. “As always.”
I turned to Andy and the tears started to flow. “I’m sorry,” I said, flapping my fingers in front of my eyes. “You know I’m no good at goodbyes. I’ll be fine once I get on the train.” I buried my head into his shoulder. “You go get that record deal and make me proud.”
An Atticus Records rep had been at the gig the night before and was showing interest in signing the band. She was so keen she was joining the boys when they headed to Amsterdam later today, to see them perform again.
Finally I pulled away and wiped my eyes. “Thanks for inviting us. It was great seeing you again. Don’t be a stranger when you next visit your mum.”
Dan handed me my backpack and gently propelled me towards the ticket turnstile. I was about to swipe my ticket when Andy raced up behind me. “Kell, I need to speak with you.” He glanced at Dan. “In private.”
“We don’t have time,” Dan answered for me. “Our train’s due.”
“You’ve got the rest of your life with her, mate. You can at least give me one more minute.”
I moved out of the way of the turnstile. “We’ve got plenty of time before we need to be at the airport,” I told Dan. “We can catch the next train. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”
Andy led me to a quiet corner, Gerry following at a discreet distance. He took a deep breath. “This is crazy – us being apart. You know it and I know it. Finish this year at college and fly back to wherever we are. You’re not meant to be with him, you’re meant to be with me.”
I felt my heart sink. Saying goodbye was hard enough without this. “You know I can’t do that. When I graduate I need to find a job. I can’t be careering all over the place with you guys.”
“Why not? You did a great job with our press kit, even Chad said so. You can do more of that for us. It’s all coming together now. Last night, having Chandler Ellement’s daughter there digging our band, it’s a sign. If Atticus take us on, we’ve made it. We’ll finally have some cash coming in. You won’t need a job, I can look after you.”
“Maybe I don’t need someone looking after me. Maybe I have my own things I want to do.”
“And you can do them. But with me. What are you so afraid of? You just have to have a little faith.”
“I do have faith. In you as a musician, not as a boyfriend.”
Andy reeled as if I’d slapped his face. “But you told me you’d forgiven me. And now you know it was all Heath’s fault in the first place.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. Heath didn’t force you to do anything. And while I do forgive you, I can’t trust you. You have no right asking me to give up everything for you. I would never ask that of you.”
“If you asked me, I’d do it. Like that.” Andy snapped his fingers. “If the only way we can be together is for me to tell the band it’s over and move back to Australia with you, I’ll do it. I’ll go and cancel our damn Amsterdam trip right now. Stay here while I’ll tell Gerry.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I grabbed his arm. “The last thing I want is for you to give up the band. That band is your life. Us – together – it’s not going to work. Maybe one day but not right now.”
“How about we try the long-distance thing again? It’s worth a shot. We can meet up whenever you have vacation. I’ll come with you now while you tell Dan it’s over. You shouldn’t be with someone like him.”
I glanced over at Dan, who was anxiously standing guard over my backpack. Dan, who had never betrayed me, who would never hurt me.
I shook my head at Andy. “I’ve got to go or I’ll miss my flight. Let’s just stay friends and keep in touch.”
“NO! I want more. I can handle it if you go back to Australia but if it’s with him, that’s the end of us. Forever.” He savagely swiped at a tear rolling down his cheek.
“You serious?”
“Deadly. Who’s it gonna be – him or me?”
I let go of Andy’s hand and walked back towards Dan.
* * *
Dan tried hard to hide his agitation about missing another train. “Thank god that’s over. Come on, gorgeous, time to go home.” We heaved up our backpacks, and Dan handed me my train ticket. “Promise me we never have to see that jerk again,” he said.
The thought of never seeing Andy again brought me up cold. Snippets of memories flashed through my mind – his crooked grin as he launched the Devil over a speed hump at speed; his half-amused, half-concerned expression after I crashed his skateboard into rosebushes; his look of pure joy as he danced wildly covered in foam; his eyes seeking out mine last night as he soulfully serenaded me with our love song.
“Go ahead,” I urged Dan. “I’ll catch a later train and meet you at the airport. I forgot to tell Andy something.” I turned and ran back towards the escalator.
“Kellie,” Dan called. “Don’t do this. Please.”
With my backpack weighing me down, I pushed past commuters, trying to spot Andy in the crowd. I had to let him know I’d changed my mind, that I couldn’t bear to not have him in my life.
I hopped up on a bench, to gain a better vantage point. “I’ve lost my friend,” I explained to the middle-aged lady who was sitting there eating a Cornish pasty.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up, pet,” she told my kneecaps.
But there was no sign of him. Maybe he’d already left the station.
“Sorry, sir.” I threw an apology over my shoulder at an elderly man I’d knocked in my rush
towards the exit. I scanned up and down the street. Where was he? I felt the panic rising in my chest. If I didn’t catch the train soon, I’d be in danger of missing my flight. But I couldn’t leave things like this with Andy.
I ran back up the steps into the station, darting my way through a group of students. Maybe if I asked at the information booth, they would put an announcement over the loudspeaker. Attention. Kellie Beldon would like to inform Andrew Dangerfield that she’s been a complete idiot. She’s choosing you. Please come and claim her at Information.
I continued to scan the crowd as I waited in line – what was it with the British and their endless queues! Finally relief flooded my system as I spotted Gerry. Thank heavens, he’d know where Andy was. I pelted across the concourse, calling his name. But then Gerry turned around. And it wasn’t Gerry – just a stranger with the same lanky build and tousled blond hair.
I slumped on to a bench next to some Japanese tourists, my head in my hands.
I quickly weighed up my options. The band had already booked out of the hotel and I didn’t know any details about their trip to Amsterdam. I couldn’t afford to miss my own flight because I had no money to buy another ticket. And the next train to Paddington was leaving in five minutes.
So, with a heavy heart, I boarded the train, checked in my luggage at the airport, and locked myself in a toilet cubicle and cried until I heard my flight called. I didn’t see Dan until we disembarked in Singapore.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lenny was waiting for the lift when I arrived at work the following Monday. He was wearing a hideous orange Hawaiian shirt with hibiscus flowers and palm trees, the buttons straining to cover his paunch.
“Don’t say I forgot it was bad taste dress day?” I said, rustling in my purse for a gold coin. “Let me give you a donation anyway.”
Once we arrived on the Starfix floor, Lenny walked over to deposit my coin in the charity collection box on Heidi’s desk. She and everyone else were in normal business attire.
“It’s bad taste dress day next Friday,” Lenny explained. “My brother Pete gave me this shirt at the weekend. He stopped over on his world cruise – one-hundred-and-nineteen nights from Southampton.”
As I waited for the ground to swallow me, raised voices came from Zara’s office. Bethany was in the firing line today.
“Get out of my sight,” Zara screamed. “This is the thanks I get for taking you on as a naive little editorial assistant and teaching you everything I know. You betray me to go work for that bitch.”
“What’s going on?” I asked Lenny.
“Bethany’s been offered the deputy editor’s job at Reach.”
Wow! What a great opportunity for her but what a slap in the face for Zara. Even though we were all part of the same company, Queen Z would see any move to Amanda’s staff as an act of treason.
After saying some hasty goodbyes, Bethany pulled me aside. “Before I cross to the dark side, I wanted to give you the heads-up on my first juicy exclusive.” She rubbed her hands together in glee. “Misty the weather girl is pregnant. Please let me know how Zara reacts when that story lands on her desk next week.”
And without a backward glance, Bethany waltzed off to her new life on the twelfth floor.
The defection obviously left Zara too emotionally wrought to continue – she went home with a migraine. So I was left trying to second-guess how she would want us to cover a veteran singer nearly overdosing on Xanax. Brad Drysdale, the frontman of 90s hair band Lethal, had been rushed to hospital after being found unconscious by a maid in his hotel room. The paparazzi had snapped him emerging ashen-faced from the hospital, looking like a broken man.
I shifted uneasily in my chair, this story was a bit too close to home for comfort. The media were intruding at what was clearly a traumatic time. Sometimes it was all too convenient to forget the human behind the headline.
I strung together some comments from his publicist and the hospital spokesman, then uploaded the story with what I thought was the most flattering photo.
Then another story on the newsfeed caught my attention. “Bliss and Escapade magazines are merging,” I announced.
Adele immediately stopped working on her story about a squeaky-clean actress who mistakenly tweeted a topless photo of herself to her followers while trying to delete it from her phone. “Really? What does that mean, more job losses?” She looked over my shoulder at the report.
“The company says it’s a cost-cutting move that won’t compromise its standards of editorial excellence,” I said.
Adele scoffed. “As if. One hundred staff trimmed to fifty-five. I wonder how long it’ll be before we feel the pinch. That memo last week about not accruing more than four weeks leave got me worried. Lenny says keeping annual leave down is what a company does before a round of redundancies. And I bet Bethany won’t be replaced.”
“Well, I suppose all we can do is keep our heads down and our fingers typing.” And the more rock stars in trouble, the better. The Brad Drysdale story had already garnered ten thousand views.
I turned my attention to replying to an email from a reader complaining we weren’t giving enough coverage to Ryan Gosling. I was so tempted to begin with ‘Hey girl’.
* * *
Curtis frowned as my phone trilled. His eyes were glued to the tennis – god forbid if anyone talked over the commentary – so I headed upstairs. It was Dawn, stressing out about our upcoming school reunion.
“If you know of a way to lose twenty kilos in a hurry, let me know. To be honest, I’m not looking forward to it at all,” she confessed. “There are some people I’m glad I haven’t set eyes on for years.”
Join the club, I thought. There were definitely some people I never wanted to see again.
“I doubt Dan will be there,” Dawn continued, as if reading my mind. “He lives in Hong Kong now.”
“I know, Nikki told me he’s already sent his apologies.” There’d be no way I’d have accepted the invitation myself if he was attending. “Remember no one is allowed to breathe a word about Andy to Curtis.”
“You’ve only told us a hundred times. Stop freaking out, your secret is safe with us. Nobody else ever cottoned on that that long-haired lout you used to hang out with went on to become a rock star.”
Moments after ending my conversation with Dawn, my phone rang again. It was the former long-haired lout, ringing from South Korea. He had been in Asia all week doing promotional stuff.
“You’ll laugh at this,” I told him. “I’ve been roped into attending my school reunion next month. Twenty-one years since we graduated, can you believe it’s been that long?
“Tell me about it, I found a grey hair in my eyebrow last week. I’m told it’ll be the pubes next. So do you need anyone to go with you? I was a student there once, you know.”
“Twenty minutes in one history class doesn’t count.”
“Me and Gerry were invited to our ten-year reunion. Even though I never got a high school diploma, I still got this sucky VIP invitation from the same people who used to make our lives hell. And you know what Gerry told me: ‘I don’t need to find out how the captain of the football team is doing, I know cos he mows my lawn every fortnight’.” Andy guffawed. “So will Dan be there?”
“Apparently not, thank goodness, he lives overseas. So tell me, what’s been going on with Siena?” I had been itching to find out how she reacted to getting caught out with Marty.
“She denies it all. They’re only friends, working together to help Kris become a star. Yada-yada. The rumours are all the work of a mud-raking media. In fact, I may have heard your name taken in vain a few times.”
“And what do you think?”
“I believe every word of the Smarty story. But this isn’t the time or place to air our dirty laundry. I owe it to Chandler to stick around. Siena’s in a bit of a bind actually. Our pre-nup had an infidelity clause. Her old man insisted on it. Remember when we got married, all the money was hers. Now she’s pan
icking because her family’s fortunes are a mess so she certainly can’t come out and admit she’s seeing someone else.”
“But doesn’t it bother you that she is?”
“Nah, I don’t care. However if you rephrase the question to do I mind that the girl I love is with someone else, then of course I do.”
* * *
I one-handedly swirled the breakfast dishes around in the sink, while chomping on a piece of Vegemite toast. I was daydreaming about being interviewed as the inspiration behind many of Danger Game’s hits.
Last night, I watched a documentary about the making of their albums, which featured a lot of Siena as creative muse. There was one part where Andy was talking about the song Someone Like Him, how it was about how the jerks always got the girl. The video featured a guy getting left behind on a dock while Andy took off on a yacht with his girl. Wonder where he got that idea from?
Catching sight of the clock, I called upstairs. “Ryan, Ciara! Get a move on, we need to go.”
Ryan bounded down in his Cobra Ninja uniform. It was open day where the students demonstrated their skills and participated in championship bouts. Curtis was meeting us at the hall after his bike ride.
The first bouts had already finished and the juniors were being presented with their medals when Curtis finally slid into the seat next to me.
“Nice of you to join us.”
He patted down his still-damp hair. “Had a few calls to make but I’m here now.”
“Ryan’s group is up next.”
“Didn’t miss anything then, did I?”
He tapped away on his phone as the last of the little kids paraded to the front, bowing to instructor Masato.
“Turn it off,” I hissed as a few parents cast disapproving sideglances at his constantly beeping phone.
“One last email and I’m done.” Curtis slid his phone in his pocket. “How long is this going to take?” he asked tapping his foot on the floor. “I’ve got a mountain of work.”
The next procession of boys marched into the arena. I beamed at Ryan as he lined up with his intermediate class.
