The Byron Journals (12 page)

‘Where's Heidi?' he asked.

‘Work.'

‘What? When did she leave?'

‘You said goodbye to her. Don't you remember?'

He shook his head, his mouth dry. He picked up the mug of chai Heidi had made him and sipped, but it was cold. How much time had slipped by?

Jade pulled out a small bag of pills. ‘Want another one?'

He shook his head, sighed and watched her knock one back with a glass of water. Then she held out the bag. ‘Go on.'

He took a pill out of the bag, hesitated, then put it in his mouth.

Jade passed him her glass of water and he drank some. ‘Tim told me about your mum.'

That was the last thing he was expecting her to say. ‘What did he tell you?'

‘He told me she's a lawyer and that's why he cut you in on the hydro profits.'

He nodded warily.

Jade laughed and placed her hand on his thigh. ‘Don't worry—I won't say anything to Heidi…But I do have a small favour to ask.'

‘What?'

‘You know how my brother has offered to record you guys in Sydney.'

‘Yeah?'

‘Well…As payment for the recording session, he's asked us to run a package to Melbourne for him.'

‘What kind of package.'

‘Coke.'

He coughed. ‘Coke?'

‘Yeah. He's in the process of teeing up a deal between a guy at my work on the Gold Coast and some of his connections in Melbourne. All we have to do is pick up the package south of Sydney and deliver it to Melbourne. Dead easy.'

‘Coke?' Andrew said again.

She smirked. ‘Don't worry, Tim will take care of the details. I just wanted to check that you can offer me the same legal protection if anything goes wrong—not that it will.'

‘I guess so,' he said, unsure what he was getting himself into.

‘I just figure that if Tim's taking pot, and Heidi's taking acid—well, I want to be in on the action too!

You should see how much money Sam makes. That studio he's set up is fitted it out with all the craziest state-of-the-art gear. And it's all from drug money.'

‘Okay.' Andrew had difficulty focusing on what she was saying. ‘Sounds good.'

She coughed and cleared her throat. ‘Have you talked to Heidi about the acid?'

‘No. Have you?'

‘I'm scared she'll go off at me.'

‘She's just doing it for the money,' he said. ‘Same reason anyone sells drugs.'

Jade shook her head. ‘Acid's not worth much and it's hard to sell. Besides, Heidi doesn't know anyone in Melbourne. She grew up in Adelaide, like you.'

Andrew wanted her to stop talking. ‘I need to lie down.'

She laughed. ‘You
are
lying down.'

He shook his head. ‘I mean in bed.'

‘No! You have to stay up! You just dropped another pill. And besides, if you go to bed I'll be all by myself. Have a shower, I promise it'll make you feel better. You'll love it.'

He undressed in the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped into the flow of water. She was right. The shower was like dying and being reborn a thousand times over. It was everything good and pure in the world. Warm, gentle, enlivening.

The door opened and Jade walked in. She stopped by the half-open shower curtain, smiled and looked him up and down. ‘Do you feel like a joint?'

He ran his hands through his hair, not caring that

Jade was seeing him naked for the first time. ‘Will it feel as good as this shower?'

‘Better!'

She walked out to roll the joint, leaving the door ajar behind her. He turned off the shower, got out and dried himself, wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way into Heidi's room. He stood there for a while, trying to remember what he was doing. Boxer shorts— he was looking for his boxer shorts. He found them and put them on, turned on the fan and slid between the sheets. He could smell Heidi's rockmelon scent on his pillow and wished she'd come home. The fan hummed beside him, slowly turning from side to side, and his thoughts bounded and swerved like hunted rabbits.

There was a light knock on the door and he opened his eyes. Jade was in the doorway, her eyes wide, a joint smoking in one hand and a glass ashtray in her other hand. She closed the door behind her and paused, biting her lip. ‘The other pill's just starting to kick in. How do you feel?'

‘I don't know. Weird.'

She sat on the edge of the bed and offered him the joint. ‘Have some of this. It'll perk you up…trust me.'

The tip of the joint glowed and crackled and smoke burnt the back of his throat. He coughed, drew again and passed it back to her. A wave of calm washed through him. She was right; he did feel better. Lighter.

He glanced at her breasts and noticed her nipples were slightly different sizes.

She caught his eye. ‘You like them, don't you?'

‘Huh…? What?'

‘My breasts—you're staring at them…again.'

‘No, I'm not,' he said and smiled. ‘They're staring at me.'

She laughed. ‘I can take my top off, if you'd like.'

‘I don't know if it's—'

She passed him the joint and pulled the T-shirt over her head. He'd seen them so many times—but every time he looked at them was like seeing them for the first time.

She looked down and fondled them. ‘Guys are so funny about breasts. It's hilarious.' Then she looked up. ‘You want to touch them, don't you?'

‘Umm…'

‘It was fine last night when Heidi was there—so what's the difference? It's just a bit of fun.'

She was right—except for the fact that Heidi wasn't here now. He reached forward to touch her breasts, but she laughed and turned away.

‘There's just one thing...'

‘What?'

She took the joint, puffed on it and passed it back to him. ‘You have to do something for me.'

‘What?'

‘Something that feels even better than a shower and a joint.'

‘What?'

She laughed. ‘Actually, there are a couple of things that feel better. But normally, after a big night out, Heidi gives me a nice, long massage. And since she won't be back for a few hours, well…I'm not sure I can wait that long.'

Andrew's heart knocked hard against his chest. ‘Okay.'

She put the joint in the ashtray and placed the ashtray on the floor. She turned her back to him, still covering her breasts with her hand and forearm, but not very well, and turned to lie on the mattress. She readjusted herself and scooped her hair from behind her neck to the side. ‘Just use some of Heidi's moisturiser.'

He stared at her half-naked on the bed beside him. ‘You don't think Heidi will mind?'

‘She won't care. It's not expensive moisturiser.'

It wasn't what he'd meant and he shook his head, confused, then squirted some moisturiser onto his palm. Jade sighed and goosebumps rose on her skin when he touched her.

‘Sit on top of me,' she said.

He sat astride her soft, round arse. It was just a massage, he told himself, nothing else. He pressed his fingers into the muscles at the back of her neck and the gentlest sigh broke from her lips. He kept going.

‘Harder,' she murmured into the pillow.

He massaged harder. This was bad, he thought. He should just stand up and walk out. Her hand fell onto his thigh and started stroking it. It was creeping under his boxers. A shudder left his body and he felt the ache of desire hardening and gathering strength. Why didn't he stop her? What was wrong with him? Everything was welling up at once. He imagined what it would feel like to fondle her breasts, to slide his hands along the soft skin of her inner thighs, to kiss and run his tongue along the hot, wet blaze between her legs. He imagined her moans and sighs. He imagined rubbing her and stroking her the way Heidi had taught him. Heidi. Heidi. Heidi. Her name throbbed in some distant, submerged part of him, a part of him that was growing fainter and fainter. Should he kiss the back of her neck? He'd stopped massaging her. Her hand stopped under his boxers just short of his balls.

‘Andy?'

His mouth was dry; it was too late, there was no stopping this. He felt her adjust herself beneath him and begin to roll over.

The sound of a key being fiddled into the front-door lock cut through the room. His body tensed. Jade's eyes flashed in panic. For a moment, neither of them moved. The front door creaked open. Jade rolled away from him, pulled on her shirt, and moved to the edge of the bed. The door slammed and there were footsteps down the hall.

‘But the funniest bit…' Jade began as though mid-story.

She re-lit the joint at the same time and he marvelled at her deception. He pulled up the sheet and propped himself against the pillows at the end of the bed, his erection wilting beneath the sheets. Was it Heidi? Or Tim? Heidi would go crazy; Tim would go ultra-violence crazy. Jade continued talking but he barely took in what she was saying. She leaned forward to pass him the joint just as the door opened.

It was Heidi and it looked like she'd been crying. She glanced between them. ‘I don't look trashed, do I?'

Jade laughed. ‘Umm…a little bit. Why?'

‘The new manager said I was too trashed to work.'

‘What a prick!'

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘It's New Year's Day. What does he expect?'

Jade jumped up and embraced her. ‘Oh, Heidi, you poor thing! You're completely fine, the guy doesn't know what he's talking about.'

‘I can't believe he sent me home.'

‘Just think of it this way—you've got the rest of the day off, so now we can get you really trashed.'

Heidi puffed on the joint, glanced at Andrew and turned to Jade. ‘Your shirt's inside out.'

‘Yeah, thanks Andy.' Jade laughed nervously. ‘Let me walk around all morning looking like a loser.'

Jade pulled out her bag of pills and passed it to Heidi, then turned her back to Andrew, took off her top and put it on the right way around.

fourteen

Andrew drifted in and out of a jagged sleep. He couldn't work out whether he should tell Heidi about what had happened. Why hadn't he stopped things with Jade earlier? What if Heidi had walked in five minutes later? Was he just as bad as his dad? He shoved aside the sheet, which was twisted into a rope beside him, and rolled onto his back.

‘Were you having a bad dream?' Heidi asked. She was lying on her side, watching him.

He shook his head and propped himself against the bed-head. It was still light outside. ‘What time is it?'

‘Not sure,' she said, her eyes dreamy. ‘Late afternoon.'

He nodded. ‘How are you feeling?'

‘Fine…Hey?' She traced circles on his chest. ‘What do you think happens to us when we die? Not to our bodies obviously, but the other part.'

‘I don't think about it.'

She looked up. ‘Don't you ever wonder what happens next?'

‘It's probably just black and nothing.'

‘Really…? Do you think it would be a peaceful black and nothing?'

He massaged his temples. ‘Probably.'

‘Don't you ever think about how fragile life is?' She looked away, a thin film of sweat on her forehead. ‘How you can be here one second and gone the next?'

Was she talking about her mum's accident? ‘I haven't thought about it much.'

‘Close your eyes,' she said. ‘I want you to imagine something.'

He closed his eyes and waited.

‘I want you to imagine you're up at the lighthouse, standing on the edge of the cliffs.' She took a few shallow breaths, followed by a deep intake. ‘You can see the waves washing around—all that white water smashing up around the rocks. You can't think of any reason to remain alive so you just…lean forward and start falling…and maybe your life flashes before you, or you think of things you wish you'd done differently.

Then you hit. The white water washes up and swallows you…'

His eyes snapped open. ‘Why are you talking like this?'

‘Because you need to imagine death in order to imagine what happens afterwards. I mean, what happens to all your hopes and dreams? All the things you've learnt? Where do all those things go?'

Andrew thought of her scarred arm but didn't say anything, and she caught his expression and smiled.

‘I'm just talking, Andy. We're becoming closer and I want to start being more open with you.'

‘But why are you talking about death when there are so many good things in our lives.'

She seemed amused—as though he was an amateur magician attempting a trick she'd seen a thousand times over. ‘Like what?'

‘I don't know—being in Byron, playing music…us.'

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. ‘You know…my mum used to be a music teacher. Did I ever tell you that?'

He almost said that his dad was a music teacher too, but didn't want to risk changing the topic. ‘You don't talk about her much.'

‘She was a singer—she didn't think she was good enough to perform, but she used to sing around the house when she was doing chores, or when she thought no one was listening. And she had the most beautiful, beautiful voice.'

‘What happened to her?'

Heidi tensed mid-breath. ‘She was hit by a car.'

Andrew thought of the collection of Mercedes badges in her underwear drawer. ‘Oh, shit Heidi. I'm so sorry.' He wrapped his arms around her.

She waited a long time before continuing.

‘Jesus, Andy.' Her voice wavered. ‘I was such a fuck-up at the time. I was hanging out with bad people, sneaking out at night, taking drugs. I just hated everything and everyone and I was so horrible to her.' She whimpered and started crying. ‘The day it happened, I'd been caught stealing make-up—eyeliner—from a chemist in the city. I mean, how stupid! Fucking eyeliner! The owner called my mum and held me there until she came to pick me up. Mum was lecturing me on the way back to the car, saying over and over how ashamed of me she was, how embarrassed and disappointed… And I just wish…If we'd had a different conversation on the way—anything—if I'd told her I was sorry, or if she'd parked the car in a different spot—it could have changed everything…' She continued, crying through her words, ‘We were waiting to cross the road. Mum was lecturing me and I was looking the other way, pretending I couldn't hear her. The lights turned green, started beeping…I snapped and called her a cunt. She… stepped onto the road without looking…a driver turned through a red light and…ran straight into her.' Heidi rolled on top of him and sobbed. ‘One second…she was there with me…then she was lying on the road, broken and bleeding.'