Billy

by Donna Joy Usher

  He let out a laugh and took a swig from the glass. I grabbed mine and took a seat on the couch, getting comfortable for the fashion parade.

  ‘Ummmm.’ Billy reappeared at the top of the stairs. ‘It might be a little on the small side.’

  He jogged back down and stood stiffly, his arms slightly out from his sides as he pivoted slowly on the spot. The shiny pink Dazzle logo sat over his left pectoral muscle. I could tell that’s where it was because the shirt’s stretchy material was moulded to the curves of Billy’s body.

  ‘It’s perfect.’ Bruce clapped his hands together and jumped up and down. ‘No use having them if you can’t show them off. What do you think?’ He turned to look at me.

  ‘Nice.’ My eyes roamed over Billy’s chest. ‘There’s just one problem.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Every single female and most of the men will be too busy looking at Billy to see the show.’

  ‘That’s a problem?’

  ‘Yes.’ I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t want Billy wearing that out in public unless I was there to beat the crap out of anyone who decided they might try their luck. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. More that I felt a primal urge to protect my property.

  Bruce let out a dramatic sigh and reached back into his bag. ‘Well, lucky I had them make this one up as well.’ He pulled out another shirt that looked larger than the first.

  Billy let out an audible sigh of relief and took it from Bruce. ‘Thanks man.’ He ran a finger under the edge of the sleeve. ‘This one is starting to dig in. That, and I feel a little silly.’

  ‘And yet,’ I grinned up at him, ‘you seem totally comfortable in my apron.’

  ***

  I looked at my phone screen again and then peered up at the apartment building in front of me. Yep. The addresses matched.

  The entrance door loomed above me, a twisted artwork of rusty metal punctuated by stained glass. For all its seeming weight, it swung smoothly when I pushed. I welcomed the warm air that rushed out to envelope me.

  The lobby smelled of the fancy leather chairs randomly positioned throughout the space. I was betting that week’s wage it had taken a Feng Shui master days to achieve that level of symmetrical nonchalance.

  ‘May I help you, Madam?’

  I repositioned my jaw back to the closed position and turned to face the uniformed man behind the sweeping teak table.

  ‘Does that table only have two legs?’ I closed one eye and tilted my head to the side.

  ‘It’s an optical illusion.’

  ‘Huh.’ I tilted my head to the other side. ‘Nope. Still can’t see them.’

  ‘Were you here for something in particular?’ His voice held levels of snark I hadn’t encountered since my academy days.

  I could feel my eyebrows rising up my forehead as I stared at him. ‘Yes. I’m here to see Bianca Wellington.’

  His, ‘Humhem,’ as he lifted a sleek silver phone to his ear indicated he didn’t believe me.

  ‘Oh, Ms Wellington. There’s a woman here claiming she’s here to see you.’ He covered the mouthpiece with one hand and staring at me as if trying to determine what crime I was considering committing. ‘Your name?’

  ‘Chanel Smith.’ Was that the face I wore when I was on the beat?

  He uncovered the mouth piece and relayed my name to Bianca. ‘Yes, of course Ms Wellington,’ he purred. He placed the handset carefully back onto the glass receiver and stood, brushing down his pants with his hands before stepping around the table. ‘Follow,’ he ordered, marching off towards black, glass elevator doors.

  I waited while he pushed the button, staring around at the massive vases overflowing with lilies. The doors slid open with an almost-silent swoosh and he leant in and pressed the button for Bianca’s floor.

  ‘It’s nice,’ I said to him as I stepped into the lift, ‘but not as nice as the apartment building my mother has her penthouse in.’ I smiled brightly at his stunned face as the doors slid shut, relishing my petty triumph far more than I probably should have.

  Bianca was waiting for me when I arrived at her floor.

  ‘Who was that?’ I asked as I air-kissed her.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The man on the front desk.’

  ‘Oh, Ralphy. He’s a pet, isn’t he?’ She took my hand and started pulling me down the corridor towards her apartment.

  ‘A pet? More like a rabid dog.’

  ‘Oh.’ She pulled a face. ‘He can get a little protective.’ She pushed open her door and led me in. ‘Want a glass of wine?’ She turned when I didn’t answer straight away. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve become a teetotaller. I mean I saw you drinking on Friday night.’

  ‘Wo-oowww.’ I turned the word into 2 syllables. ‘I mean Bianca, really wow.’ I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass panels that offered a stunning view over the Harbour Bridge.

  ‘Oh.’ She opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of white wine. ‘Well, you know. It’s somewhere to call home.’

  ‘How?’ I swept an arm around the enormous lounge as I turned back towards her. ‘What? When?’

  A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she handed me a glass of wine. ‘Let’s just say I made an old, rich man very happy.’ She bent to wipe a tea towel over an already spotless coffee table.

  ‘Oh. Euuuwwwwww.’ I took the glass of wine while I ran a speculative eye over her magnificent abode. Would I make an old man very happy for this?

  ‘Not that sort of happy.’ She straightened and slapped my arm with the tea towel. ‘I massaged his feet, and ran his errands. Made sure he took his medication. Those sorts of things.’ She shrugged. ‘There was nobody else to look after him and he didn’t want to end up in a home. I didn’t expect him to leave his property to me.’ She flashed me a smile. ‘I might have made him that sort of happy if I’d known.’

  ‘Don’t. Please.’ I held my spare hand up, trying to force the image of Bianca riding a shrivelled up old man out of my head. I failed.

  ‘Sit. Drink.’ She plonked onto the sofa across from me and pulled her feet up underneath her.

  ‘So,’ I paused while I tried to formulate a delicate way to form my question, ‘why were you,’ I grimaced, ‘if you had this?’

  ‘Turning tricks?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Well, I only inherited it a year ago, and the rates and land tax are quite steep.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘The plan was to keep going until I was sure I would have enough savings for a few years. But then, well, it wasn’t worth risking my life over.’ She took another sip as she looked me in the eye.

  Roger. She’d stopped because of Roger.

  I froze, waiting.

  ‘You okay?’ She reached across the gap to lay a hand on my arm.

  I smiled as I nodded. ‘I’m good.’ I still wasn’t used to the absence of the persistent, fluttery panic that had accompanied thoughts of Roger. ‘It stopped when Billy moved in.’

  ‘I thought you were better when you came back from Las Vegas?’

  ‘I was. But then after Hamilton Island, when Billy went back home….’ I took another sip of my wine. ‘Dr Shooten says it has something to do with abandonment issues.’ I pulled a face. I still couldn’t believe I had ended up back in the shrink’s office.

  ‘Well, your Dad did abandon you.’ She put a hand up as I opened my mouth to protest. ‘I know he didn’t really. But that was the story you grew up with. Those sorts of things set up mapping in your head that can wreak all sorts of havoc later.’

  ‘Huh.’ I slumped back into the chair. It really was very comfortable. Maybe when Billy and I got a larger apartment we could get some comfier chairs. ‘What are you? A psychologist or something?’

  ‘Well,’ a smile lit up her entire face, ‘not yet. But that’s what I wanted to tell you. Look.’ She jumped to her feet in a move that probably would have seen me face plant on the floor, and sauntered over to a massive mahogany table. She picked up a sheet of paper an
d waved it in the air like a flag as she came back. ‘Here.’

  I took the offered piece of paper. The letterhead held The Sydney University Crest. ‘You’ve been accepted into Uni?’

  ‘It’s just a Science degree. But I’m planning on majoring in Psychology. With the 4 years of study and the years of residency I need to do, it will take about six years, but at the end I’ll be a Psychologist.’ The words tumbled out of her in a garbled rush as if she were scared of the damage they might do once they were free. ‘What do you think?’ This time she spoke in a half whisper. ‘Do you think it’s a silly idea?’

  ‘I think it’s amazing. I think you’re amazing.’ I looked at the paper again. Wow. Bianca a psychologist. ‘I’m still not sure what I want to be when I grow up.’

  She burst out laughing. ‘Honey, you are grown up!’

  ‘Yeah. I guess. It just seems so mature you know? Having a six-year plan. I’ve kind of just fallen into all of my jobs.’

  ‘But you’re good at what you do.’

  I stared at the ceiling while I thought about it. ‘I guess so. But half the time it just seems to happen to me. I never plan any of it. I just kind of react to what life throws at me. It would be nice to have a life plan for once.’

  ‘Hang on.’ She hopped up. ‘I’m listening. I just forgot the cheese.’ She disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a wooden board which held a couple of different cheeses and some crackers. ‘So what would your life plan include? Married to Billy and a couple of little ankle biters?’

  I barked out a laugh. ‘Maybe. Eventually.’ I cut off a chunk of Brie and placed it on a cracker.

  ‘You know,’ she ran the tip of her pointing finger around the top of her wine glass, ‘maybe you don’t need a life plan. Not yet, anyway. Maybe your plan at the moment should just be to enjoy what life throws at you. I mean,’ she paused and pushed back into the sofa, wriggling around till she was comfortable, ‘maybe you only need to make it a life plan when something needs to change. Like with me.’

  My phone let out a shrill ring and settled into the ringtone I had made specific for Martine. A muffled version of Girls Just Want To Have Fun partied on in the depths of my mammoth handbag.

  ‘You get it.’ Bianca placed her glass on the coffee table. ‘I’ve got to go to the little girl’s room.’

  I snagged the phone on my third pass through the contents of my bag.

  ‘Where are you?’ Petulance edged Martine’s voice.

  ‘At Bianca’s. Why?’

  ‘Oh fine.’ She let out a huff. ‘You have no idea how hard it is to lug this thing up and down those stairs.’

  ‘What thing?’

  She was gone before I had even finished my sentence.

  ‘Martine?’ Bianca asked.

  ‘Yeah. Not quite sure what that was all about.’

  Bianca laughed. ‘She does tend to keep us on our toes.’ She paused and turned towards the hall she had just come from. ‘Oh damn. Now it’s my phone. Do you mind?’

  ‘I’m just going to sit here and enjoy this cheese.’ I picked up the cheese knife and cut another piece of Brie.

  ‘Make sure you try the other,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘It’s amazing.’

  I tried the other cheese, a crumbly, soft one that melted on my tongue and exploded with flavour. Then I went back to the Brie. I was just contemplating searching the fridge for the bottle of wine when there was a tapping on the front door.

  ‘Bianca,’ I called. ‘Are you expecting anybody?’

  Her head popped around the corner of a doorframe. The phone was still pressed to her ear as she shook her head.

  The rapping was louder the second time. I let out a sigh and put my glass back down. ‘Coming.’

  It took me a second to work out the fancy locking system on Bianca’s front door.

  ‘Finally,’ Martine exclaimed when I managed to tug it open. She pushed past me into the lounge room, towing a massive suitcase behind her.

  ‘What on Earth?’ I trailed after her.

  ‘You have to help me.’ She laid the suitcase on its side and unzipped the lid.

  ‘Is there a body in there? ‘Cause if there is, you know you can’t show me. I took an oath.’

  She stopped struggling with the zip and looked up at me through the fringe of the dark brown bob she had chosen to wear that day. ‘It’s not a dead body.’ She blew at a piece of hair that was stuck to her nose. ‘It’s worse than a dead body. She’s coming to visit.’

  Bianca strolled back into the lounge, hooked her wine glass off the table and sank into the sofa. The white-knit sweater she wore slipped off one shoulder, highlighting her golden-brown skin.

  ‘Hey B.’ Martine recommenced her struggles to open the bulging suitcase.

  ‘Martine. You want a glass of wine?’

  ‘Can’t.’ She let out a grunt of effort and sank back onto her heels. ‘Got to keep my wits about me.’

  ‘Who’s coming?’ I hopped off the couch and leant down next to her, taking the zip and tugging gently on it. It ran smoothly around the bag till it was open.

  ‘Show off.’ Martine threw the lid back and tulle, satin and feathers burst from within. ‘Now, you two have to help me pick the perfect outfit for dinner.’

  ‘You brought all this over for that? Why didn’t you just text me photos?’

  ‘You have to see them on to choose.’

  Bianca raised her eyebrows and shrugged when I glanced over at her.

  ‘Martine who are you having dinner with?’

  She grabbed a bright-pink satin skirt, buoyed out by a mass of tulle. ‘Now I was thinking this, with this.’ She reached back into the case and tugged out a white spandex top. ‘Then I could wear these.’ A sky-high pair of white, patent-leather boots joined the shirt. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Well,’ Bianca tapped her bottom lip with a finger, ‘It would all depend on who you were having dinner with.’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘Right.’ Martine’s eyes took on a wild look for a second and then she blinked, shook her head and smiled. ‘It’s my Drag Mum. She’s coming to town for a couple of weeks and we’re having dinner tomorrow night.’

  ***

  ‘Drag Mum?’ Billy’s fingers left off their path of discovery over my arm as he raised himself onto an elbow and looked down at me.

  ‘Yeah.’ I wriggled around on the bed till I was facing him, enjoying the feel of his skin brushing against mine. ‘So it turns out there’s like some kind of drag hierarchy. And this woman, Sally Sparkles….’ I paused for a moment while I waited for Billy’s guffaws to die off.

  ‘Sorry. Go on.’ His smile said he might start laughing again at any time.

  ‘Well, this Sally, she’s like the head of it all.’

  ‘So kind of like the head of the Drag Queen Union?’ He let out another bark of laughter.

  ‘Stop it.’ I punched him softly on the arm. ‘This is serious.’

  ‘Oh yes. I know,’ he said. ‘Sparkly serious.’

  I smiled. ‘Anyway, she determines if the new Drag Queens get gigs and things like that. And she organises for the promising ones to have mentorship. She took Martine under her wing when she first started out.’

  ‘So what’s Martine so worried about?’

  ‘I get the feeling she’s a bit of a perfectionist.’

  ‘Or a bit of a bitch.’

  It was my turn to laugh. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe, baby.’

  Billy pulled me closer and a flood of tingles swept across my body.

  ‘Baby,’ I whispered back as his mouth closed on my own. All interest in the existence of Drag Mums disappeared and was forgotten about until the morning.

  3

  Gone…

  ‘Isn’t Autumn beautiful?’ I spun on the spot, holding my arms out wide as I breathed in the crisp air. The setting sun cast long shadows; the dark images breaking up the golden g
low like missing teeth in an otherwise perfect smile.

  Bob paused in the act of taking another bite out of a donut. He had developed an icing moustache two donuts ago but I hadn’t bothered to tell him. It was petty I know, but a girl has to get her amusements where she can.

  ‘I think technically, it’s Winter.’

  ‘Huh.’ I counted on my fingers. ‘So it is. I get so confused. I mean why don’t the seasons run with the quarters of the year?’

  Bob shrugged, his mouth so full of soft, doughy goodness that he wasn’t able to speak. A chunk of crusty moustache flaked off and lodged on top of his rotund belly.

  The Village People’s Y.M.C.A blasted out of the vest pocket that housed my phone. ‘Bruce,’ I said. And of course that reminded me that tonight was Billy’s third night working at Dazzle, and well, anything to do with Billy had me wanting to spin on the spot again while I sung The Hills Are Alive at the top of my voice.

  ‘Chanel.’ Bruce’s voice was a squeaky panic.

  ‘What?’ TheHills Are Alive came to an abrupt, screeching halt.

  ‘It’s Billy. There are three of them. And I think at least one of them has a gun.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m hiding under the bar.’

  ‘No, I mean…never mind.’ I dumped my phone back in my pocket and took off at a sprint. It would take too long to go back and sign out one of the police cars.

  ‘Chwawel.’

  I heard Bob start coughing on a piece of inhaled donut but I didn’t stop. If it came down to a choice between letting Billy get shot, and letting Bob asphyxiate, Bob was going to come out the corpse every time.

  I threw a quick look to the left and the right before I darted across the street. A car honked at me and I resisted giving him the finger, mainly because I was in uniform, but mostly because I couldn’t spare the energy. My sprained ankle had seen my cardiovascular fitness shot, and I hadn’t really gotten back to the treadmill since Billy had arrived.

  I rounded the corner to the street Dazzle was on, and increased my stride. The slight downhill slope helped, but my breathing was starting to come in short, sucking bursts. I wasn’t going to be much help if I turned up only to collapse, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt.