Billy

by Donna Joy Usher

  I pulled a face at him. The car was driving slowly, but any second now it would be out of sight.

  ‘Billy.’ I hissed.

  ‘Oh.’ He uncrossed his arms. ‘Where?’

  ‘Black Porsche.’ I nodded in the direction of the departing car.

  Martine hopped up and down on the spot. She looked towards Dazzle, then at the Porsche.

  ‘Thanks Steve. Got to go.’ I grabbed Nick’s arm and started jogging down the street after the car. I could just see the tail lights in the distance.

  ‘Chanel.’ Martine’s voice floated after us but I ignored it. There was no time for a discussion on why she couldn’t come. Bruce would kill both of us, and then he’d kill me again if she missed the show.

  The lights stopped, caught at a stop sign or a zebra crossing. I saw the left indicator flick on and then the sleek black car disappeared from my line of vision.

  I could hear Nick’s gasping coming from further behind as I turned the corner. The car was stopped at a set of lights.

  I really hoped its destination was somewhere close. Nick was doing pretty well considering he had been nearly dead a few minutes ago, but I didn’t think the little man had much gas left in the tank.

  It turned right without any indicator and I swore as I darted across the road. I had a feeling I knew where it was going. Sure enough, when I rounded the corner I saw it further down the street with its hazard lights on.

  I put my arm out to stop Nick as he came pounding around the corner. ‘They’ve stopped,’ I whispered.

  He nodded and bent over, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

  The front passenger door opened and the man in the front stepped out. He was tall and wore a long, black leather coat. I sucked in a hiss of air as I recognised him.

  The back doors opened and Billy and the short, stout man emerged. Billy glanced back up the street and I dragged Nick back so that we were pressed into the shrub behind us. He looked away and stepped from the car to the kerb.

  ‘Ouch,’ Nick hissed.

  ‘Shut up.’ I flapped my hands at him.

  ‘There’s a spike in my back. Let’s see if you can shut up with a spike in your back.’

  ‘He’ll hear us.’ I shoved him.

  ‘What, he’s got bionic hearing has he? No way he can hear us over that music.’ He shoved me back.

  He was probably right. The music coming out of the club that the three men were entering was booming.

  ‘Well,’ Nick moved away from the shrub. ‘Are we going in?’

  ‘There’s a problem,’ I said.

  ‘We’ve found Billy. What’s the problem?’

  ‘It’s not really a what, it’s a where that’s the problem.’

  ‘Spit it out Toots. I’ve been choked, run a marathon, and stabbed by a rose bush. If you hadn’t worked it out, I’m not in a very good mood.’

  I resisted the obvious, that he was never in a very good mood, and pointed at the club. ‘That’s The Nasty Crow. If we go in there now, I’m dead for sure.’

  ***

  ‘Hoo hoo.’ Nick slapped his knee.

  I ignored him as I poured water into our coffee mugs.

  ‘Like a beautiful ninja she flew through the air,’ he choked out through his laughter. ‘She was an avenging angel sent from God.’ He put the paper down to wipe at his tears.

  ‘Stop it, Nick.’ I put his coffee down in front of him. It had been bad enough getting it from the guys at work.

  ‘This is too good.’

  ‘I’ll have you know that my Mum cut it out and put it in a scrap book.’

  ‘Yeah. So she can have a good laugh whenever she’s feeling a bit down.’

  I sighed and took a sip from my cup. ‘Stupid petrol-station attendant.’

  ‘You have to admit the photo is good. I mean you look kind of pretty.’ Coming from Nick that was high praise.

  I snatched the paper back off him. ‘That’s the problem. It’s a great photo of me. They got it off my Facebook page. Anyone who read that article, and had a good laugh about it, is going to recognise me. And they don’t let cops into The Nasty Crow.’

  ‘Maybe I could go in alone.’

  ‘No way. If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.’

  ‘Awww, Toots.’ He patted my knee. ‘When you say sweet things like that it just melts my heart.’

  There was a pounding on the door that could only be one person.

  ‘Big Bird’s here.’

  ‘Don’t call her that.’ It was an automatic reply. I was more concerned about how I was going to get into The Nasty Crow without being recognised than Nick calling Martine names.

  Martine burst into the apartment. ‘What happened?’ Tell me everything.’

  Cocoa lifted his head and gave a little bark. His tail thumped against his bed a few times and then he yawned and lay back down.

  ‘We followed the car,’ I said.

  ‘And? Was it him?’

  ‘It was him all right.’

  She sat down on the couch and grabbed my hands. ‘Did you get to talk to him? What did he say?’

  ‘Didn’t get to talk to him.’ I shrugged. ‘They went into The Nasty Crow.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her face looked thoughtful for a few moments. ‘And you didn’t go in because…?’

  ‘They might recognise me.’ I pointed at the stupid newspaper article.

  ‘Like this they would for sure.’ She waved a hand at me. ‘You’ve even got your hair up in the same bun. But with a little bit of Martine Magic…’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I pretty much do hair and makeup for a living. You’re a blank canvas. I can make you look like anything you want.’

  It was my turn to clutch her hands. ‘Can you do it now?’ I needed to see Billy. To know that he was okay. To make him see that he needed my help. It was an aching, burning hole in my chest that wouldn’t go away.

  She shook her head. ‘That sort of transformation, the sort that would pass an intense scrutiny, would take me a couple of hours.’

  ‘Tomorrow. Can we do it tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow’s Monday babe. The Nasty Crow’d be shut on a Monday for sure.’

  ‘Shit.’ I grabbed my phone and googled The Nasty Crow. A Facebook page popped up telling me they were closed Mondays and Tuesdays.

  I snorted.

  ‘What?’ Nick grabbed the phone off me.

  ‘They have a Facebook page.’

  ‘Every serious business has a Facebook page,’ Martine said.

  ‘I know. But it’s just so cute and fluffy for a joint that has a reputation for housing cop killers.’

  ‘Wednesday,’ Nick said. ‘We’re going in on Wednesday. That gives us two days to prepare.’

  ‘What do we have to prepare?’

  ‘You leave that to me Toots. It’ll give me something to do while you’re at work.’

  ‘Can you do it Wednesday?’ I looked at Martine.

  Her huge eyes were solemn. ‘You’re sure about this?’

  Butterflies started a synchronised dance in my stomach. ‘Yes.’ My voice was braver than I felt.

  ‘Okay then. Yes, I can do it on Wednesday.’

  ***

  Getting through Monday and Tuesday was like wading through thigh-high mud. The days seemed to go on and on, and then in the evenings I had to put up with a smug Nick who wouldn’t tell me what he’d been up to during the days.

  Add that to the fact that I had a constant pain in my chest which intensified if I thought about Billy, and that my back wasn’t holding up so well from nearly a week on the couch, and by Wednesday evening, when Martine was ready to perform her magic, I was ready to take on every single drug dealer in that bar and beat the shit out of them. It probably wasn’t a good frame of mind to be going in with.

  ‘Don’t touch that.’ Martine reached out and slapped Nick’s fingers away from one of her wigs.

  ‘I’m bored.’ He inched forwards in the office chair till his t
oes touched the floor and then he swung himself from side to side.

  ‘We’re nearly finished.’ Martine picked up another bottle of brown makeup and a thin brush and started working around the sides of my nose.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Nick scooted closer and stared at me.

  ‘I’m making her nose look thinner.’

  ‘Can you do anything for me?’

  ‘Sorry Squirt, even I’m not good enough to make you look taller. Unless you want to go dressed as a woman? With a beehive wig and some heels we could get you up to at least 5 foot 6.’

  ‘Really?’ Nick looked as if he might actually be thinking about it.

  ‘Stop it.’ She smacked my hand which was inching towards my face.

  ‘My nose is itchy.’

  ‘It’s just the brush. Get over it.’

  She reached into her makeup trolley and pulled out a set of fake eyelashes. Then, she took to them with a pair of scissors.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘I just want to add a bit of volume to the lashes at the corners of your eyes. With the eyeliner, it will totally change the shape of them.’

  I closed my eyes while she applied my eyelashes and eye makeup.

  ‘Huh.’ Nick said when I opened them again.

  ‘Huh, what?’ I sat still while Martine picked up a wig. We had gone with the red bob as the least likely to look anything like my current hairdo.

  ‘It’s just well, it’s you, but it’s not you at the same time.’

  Martine placed the wig onto my head and fussed around with fastenings for a few minutes. Then she stepped back and peered at me, scrutinising the effect of her ministrations.

  Finally, she nodded her head, a pleased smile on her lips as she said, ‘That ought to do it.’

  ‘I reckon.’ Nick jumped down off his chair and stood in front of me. ‘If I didn’t know it was Chanel, I wouldn’t pick it.’

  ‘Can I please look now?’ Martine had forbidden me to look till the end, even going so far as to cover the mirror. She obviously didn’t trust me.

  Martine grabbed the towel draped over the full-length mirror in her bedroom and flicked it off. ‘Voila.’

  I hopped up and tottered towards the mirror in my thigh-high black boots and red halter dress. I stared at my reflection for a few moments, trying to see my face in the mirror. ‘Wow.’ I turned to the left and the right.

  Using shadow and accentuation, she had changed my face just enough that it no longer resembled me. With the red hair and the body-fitting halter dress I looked like a sexy siren rather than a klutzy cop.

  I could feel my bad mood lift. No one was going to recognise me like this. Not even Billy.

  This was going to be so much fun.

  ***

  ‘Where are they?’ Nick whined. ‘I need to go to the toilet.’

  ‘Well, go.’ I twirled the stem of my cocktail glass as I casually pursued the room. We’d been there for an hour and there was still no sign of Billy.

  ‘I don’t need to go like that,’ he said. ‘I need to go like….’ He raised his eyebrows at me.

  I stared at him, trying to work out what he was talking about.

  ‘You know. Picture a turtle. With its little head stuck out of its shell.’

  ‘Oh yewwwww.’ I flicked my hands at him. ‘I’m a visual person. That had far too much vision for me. Just go.’

  ‘I can’t.’ He squirmed on his bar stool. ‘I just can’t do that sort of shit in public.’

  I snorted, the effects of my second margarita making that funnier than it probably was.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You said shit,’ I said.

  ‘You are one crazy cow.’ He shook his head as he took a gulp of his beer.

  I tapped my foot in time with the music as I looked over my shoulder at the dance floor. ‘Do you dance, Nick?’

  ‘Me?’ He laughed. ‘I’m a guy.’

  ‘Guys dance.’

  ‘Not real guys.’

  ‘Oh pulleease….’ I froze.

  ‘What?’ He started to turn his head.

  ‘Don’t look,’ I hissed. ‘They’re here.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘All of them. The three thugs and Billy.’

  Billy.

  My heart sung at the sight of him. He wore my favourite combination, a black t-shirt with black jeans. He had a black leather jacket slung over one shoulder.

  He looked H.O.T. and I wasn’t the only one in the room who thought so.

  Women’s heads pivoted as he walked past. It was worth the effort. The view from behind was as good as that from the front. Broad shoulders and a butt you could crack nuts on.

  ‘Oi, Toots.’ Nick picked up a chip from the packet we were sharing and threw it at me. ‘You’ve got a little drool, here.’ He touched the side of his mouth

  I poked my tongue out at him. ‘I’m allowed to drool,’ I said. ‘He’s mine.’

  ‘Not tonight he isn’t,’ he said. ‘Tonight you are Candy. A receptionist visiting from Melbourne. ’

  I picked up a chip and stuck it in my mouth. He was right, damn him.

  ‘I’m going up to the bar to see if I can hear anything.’ He jumped down from his stool and disappeared through the crowd. I could only tell where he was from the bodies that were moving to let him through.

  I ate another chip. They took the lounge that had a reserved sign on the coffee table. I’d thought they would, but there had been no tables free near it.

  I finished my drink and pushed my empty towards a bar man that was making a pass through the room. He winked at me as he picked it up and I felt myself blush. I might have been pretending to be confident Candy, but the attention this outfit had been getting me was more than I was used to.

  Billy sat back in his chair. He crossed one leg over the other at the ankle as he ran an eye around the room. I stiffened as his gaze passed me, but he didn’t pause. Of course, if Nick had been with me that might have been a different story. But still, it was nice to know that Martine’s work was holding up.

  The crowd parted again and Nick popped out in front of me. He was holding two cocktail glasses.

  ‘Damned waitress got my order wrong,’ he said.

  ‘Why didn’t you correct her?’ I took a glass from him.

  He shrugged. ‘She has the cutest smile. Little dimple right here.’ He touched the side of his right cheek.

  ‘Sucker.’

  ‘Holy smoke,’ Nick said. He took a sip from his margarita as he stared over my shoulder.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t look. You don’t want to know.’ He picked up a chip and popped it in his mouth, his eyes never wavering from what he was watching. ‘Oh, yeah. Now that is one fine filly.’ He took another sip of his drink. ‘I would ride that pony all the way home and back again.’

  I looked over my shoulder and froze in horror. A supermodel was talking to Billy. She towered above him in a pair of hot pants and stilettos. There was only enough material in her top to cover a minimal amount of her breasts.

  She made me look like I was a dowdy grandma in a pair of flannelette pyjamas.

  I clutched the stem of my cocktail glass with both hands.

  Billy smiled up at her and said something that made her throw back her head and laugh. Her swan neck looked right for kissing and she knew it as she smiled down at him.

  Long fingers reached towards him, and then…I turned bodily to face the madness occurring before me, letting out a squeal of outrage as she slid onto his lap. She snaked an arm around his neck and leaned into him to whisper something in his ear.

  That was my ear. That was MY lap. How dare some hussy touch any part of that body. It was MINE.

  ‘Christ, Chanel.’ Nick reached and grabbed my hands.

  I turned ferocious eyes on him. ‘What?’ I growled.

  ‘Psycho much?’ He took the cocktail glass from my hands. I had snapped the stem clean in half. ‘You’re bleeding.’ He deposited the base of the gl
ass onto the table and held onto the still-full top. ‘You need to pull yourself together or you’re going to blow your cover. And then where will we be?’

  For a moment I didn’t care. If blowing my cover meant I got to break that bitch’s nose, well it would be worth every painful moment of my ensuing death.

  ‘Hey.’ He waved a hand in front of my face. ‘Take a deep breath. You’re on a job.’

  ‘That,’ he waved a hand toward Billy, ‘is just him being under cover. He’s playing his part, now you need to play yours.’

  I took a deep breath, and then another, and the red mist over my eyes started to dissolve. I looked down at my hand. ‘Ugh, I’m bleeding.’

  Nick rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what happens when you play with broken glass.’

  ‘I’m going to the bathroom.’

  ‘Good idea, Toots. Clean that up and get a grip. We’ve still got to work out a way for you to talk to him.’

  I stalked to the toilets, too scared to look over my shoulder in case Billy and the model were making out, and too angry with myself that I could think that of Billy.

  But if he was on a job, the annoying, little voice in my head whispered, would it really be cheating?

  I managed not to punch the mirror like I wanted to. Instead, I washed the blood off my hand and examined my wound.

  ‘It’s just a flesh wound,’ I said as I pressed some paper towel against it. That just made me think of Billy. My Monty Python education had started as soon as he had moved in with me.

  I sighed. Nick was right. I had to pull myself together. And I had to come up with a way to talk to him.

  The door to the toilet opened, letting in a blast of music and a group of girls. The group gathered at the far end of the room, bending over one girl’s handbag as she dug around looking for something. Probably drugs.

  I threw back my shoulders and stiffened my spine. Drugs. That was what this was all about. I had to put on my big girl’s pants and stop being such a cry baby.

  I examined myself in the mirror. Martine’s makeup held strong. That was the thing about Drag Queens. They always had the best makeup.

  Another girl brought another blast of music and a plan started to form in my head. I pulled off the paper towel and examined my hand. The bleeding had stopped.