The Byron Journals (16 page)

‘Please hit me,' she mumbled. ‘Please, Andy.'

He sighed and stood up, helped her to her feet and led her to the bedroom. He opened the top drawer, found her sleeping tablets and brought her a glass of water from the kitchen.

She took the pills and lay down on her bed. ‘There's something wrong with me.'

‘No, there's not,' he replied. ‘You're having a bad time, and I want to help. I just don't know how.' He pushed her hair away from her face and sat with her, holding her hand and listening to her breathing until she fell asleep.

It was dark by the time she woke. Andrew had cleaned her room and wiped the pie from the verandah.

As soon as she'd showered, they walked to the supermarket to buy food for dinner. Heidi acted as if nothing had happened and he played along.

eighteen

‘We're loaded.' Tim stepped down from the bus and turned to Andrew. ‘Where's Heidi?'

‘Inside,' he replied. ‘Still on the phone to Jade.'

‘Heidi!' Tim shouted into the house. ‘We're leaving!' He looked down, dropped his hands onto his hips and kicked a clump of grass at his feet until it came loose.

A hot north wind raked the trees in the front yard and Andrew felt his shirt beginning to stick. He took a seat on the edge of the verandah beside Ananda, who'd arrived earlier that day to maintain the hydro set-up while they were gone.

Ananda was puffing on a joint. ‘You okay, Kashala?' ‘Fine.' Tim walked to the corner of the garden, turned on the tap and waited for the water to cool before raising the hose above his head.

‘Smoke some weed, son.' Ananda held out the joint. ‘You need to chill out.'

Tim ignored him, shook his head beneath the stream of water. The front door opened and Heidi stood there, her expression blank, the phone pressed to her chest.

‘Jade's not coming.'

‘No shit,' Tim said and turned off the tap.

‘She said you gave her an ultimatum.'

‘A what?'

Heidi rolled her eyes. ‘She said you're making her choose.'

‘Yep. And she's made her choice.' Tim walked towards the bus. ‘Let's go.'

Ananda waved from the verandah, the joint smoking between his fingers and his curly hair blowing. They turned right at the police station, crossed the train tracks and hooked the roundabout onto Jonson Street. ‘There's still time,' Heidi called as they passed Byron High. ‘We could go back and pick her up.'

Tim didn't answer; he turned up The Doors in time for the chorus and sang along, as loud as he could,
Let
it roll, baby, roll!

The wind gushed through the windows and time passed in songs and albums. The Doors. The White Stripes. Erykah Badu. Heidi wasn't talking, so Andrew moved onto the mattress up the back and took in the scenery. Cane fields passed on either side. A sugar refinery, fishermen on the banks of the river and Queenslanders on stilts. Road signs marked the distances to towns Andrew had never heard of: Wood-burn, Grafton, Woolgoolga. He'd never been to the places they drove through and he assumed Heidi and Tim hadn't either. Somehow, all this unseen territory seemed to cleanse them of their pasts and offer new possibilities.

Four and a half hours south, they turned inland and motored through the sloping hinterland to a small hippy town Ananda had recommended: Bellingen. They parked the bus in a back street under an enormous Moreton Bay fig tree and checked into the hostel, a two-storey villa nestled on the hillside and overlooking the river. As soon as they were given their room, Tim lay on his bunk bed and placed the pillow over his face.

‘Ah!' he moaned, his voice muffled. ‘Jade is such a bitch!'

‘Do you want to talk about it?' Heidi sounded only vaguely sympathetic.

‘No, I don't.'

Andrew was about to speak, but Heidi drew him aside and shook her head.

‘C'mon,' she said. ‘Let's cool off in the river.' She raised her voice to Tim, ‘We'll be down at the river if you need us.'

Outside, the buzz of cicadas had intensified with the afternoon heat. Andrew paused halfway across the car park and let go of Heidi's hand. ‘Just a sec.' He made his way over to an old, vintage Mercedes, checked to see if anyone was watching, then bent the badge forward and whacked it hard with the base of his palm.

‘See?' he said, and passed her the weighty, metal badge. ‘I can be romantic.'

She slipped it into the pocket of her dress, smiled and took his hand. As they descended the steep bitumen path, Andrew looked to the far river bank and saw thousands of flying-foxes hanging limp in the fig trees like heavy, black fruit. A bad omen, he thought. They walked through a shady park at the bottom of the hill and ducked through a wire fence into a paddock. Recent rain had left the land lush and green but eroded gashes in the hillside exposed the volcanic soil beneath, ochrous and bloody red. At the far corner of the paddock, an old chestnut horse with a white blaze cropped grass and watched them pass, swishing its tail at the flies. Andrew could smell manure; he hated the smell of manure.

Heidi undressed and waded into the river. Andrew did the same and she nuzzled up to him. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. After kissing for a few minutes, Andrew began playing with her breasts, then slid his hand along the inside of her thigh. She pulled his hand away and they kept kissing. He took her hand and placed it on his cock, but she refused to touch him there.

‘C'mon,' he said. ‘I'm dying!'

She looked around. There were kids playing a long way downstream near a bridge.

‘Is that all you think about?' she asked.

He paused, the water lapped between them. ‘Yes.'

She didn't laugh. They edged closer to the bank and kissed again. Without sex, he thought, kissing could be a pretty pointless activity. He started to laugh and she pulled away, annoyed.

‘What?'

He sighed, exasperated. ‘Can you just touch it?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘I can't have pleasure, so why should you get any?'

She tried to kiss him, but this time he pulled back. ‘Please?'

She climbed up the bank, the water streaking off her, and grabbed her towel. ‘You're such a selfish prick.'

‘Heidi—'

Her breasts jiggled as she stepped into her knickers and dragged them up her thighs. She still looked hot, he thought. Even when she was angry. Especially when she was angry. She slipped into her dress, picked up her sandals and stormed off. Andrew watched her disappear across the paddock, her towel slung over one shoulder and the buttons at the back of her dress undone. He tried playing with himself, but it was no good without her—and he started to feel like a creep, alone in the river. He waited for the stiffness to go before climbing out and drying himself.

Back at the hostel, Andrew found Heidi seated at one of the outdoor tables with Tim.

‘Heidi—I'm sorry,' he said and placed his hand on her shoulder.

But she pushed his hand away, stood without looking at him and walked inside. Tim slouched forward on the table. He looked up, his eyes glassy. ‘Heidi reckons I should call Jade.'

Andrew slumped down opposite him. ‘Why don't you?'

‘I told her she had to choose between me and her work—and not to call me until she'd decided.'

‘And you haven't heard from her?'

‘She's too stubborn.' He shook his head. ‘But…'

Andrew waited. ‘But what?'

‘It sucks but…I still love her, man.'

‘So call her, then! Don't be an idiot.'

‘But if I call her, she's won. She'll think she can do anything she wants and get away with it.'

‘Maybe,' Andrew replied. ‘But if you don't call her, you'll lose her.'

They played their first show on the main street near the pub. It was a balmy evening and people they'd met at the hostel rallied other guests to come down and check it out. Andrew, Heidi and Tim did their usual tricks. Dynamic section changes where they brought the music down to a heartbeat, built it back up and kicked it in for the chorus. Jousting dance-moves with people in the audience. And their usual finale: a threesome on Heidi's drums—each of them beating the shit out of her half-sized kit. In between, Tim made speeches to inspire people to open their wallets. Applause rippled around them between the songs and money fell into the collection box. After all the tension around Jade pulling out of the trip, it was a relief to play a good first show.

Back at the hostel, Andrew apologised again to Heidi for being selfish down at the river.

‘It's just that we were having so much sex in Byron,' he explained. ‘Every day, twice a day—sometimes more—and now it's all stopped and I don't know what to do with myself.'

‘Deal with it.'

‘I'm trying.'

‘In case you hadn't realised,' she said, ‘there
are
other ways of being affectionate.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘There are?'

‘Don't turn this into a joke, Andy,' she said. ‘It pisses me off that everything's so easy for you. No periods. No warts or sleep problems. It's not fair that everything bad happens to me and you get such an easy ride.'

A hollow clanging interrupted Andrew's reply. He turned to see one of the German guys who'd come down to watch their show, walking out of the kitchen banging a cooking pot with a wooden spoon. Two of his friends danced behind him, one wearing a pot on his head, and both of them beating rhythms with kitchen implements.

Other people in the hostel soon joined them, slapping their hands on tables, stomping their feet on the wooden decking and tapping cutlery on beer bottles.

Andrew looked at Heidi, shrugged and slapped his hands on the table. With a reluctant smile, Heidi joined in too. Soon, close to thirty people had joined the impromptu jam. The rhythm stumbled along like a blind, crippled beast. Manic and off-balance. And suddenly Andrew and Heidi couldn't stop laughing.

The only person clearly not enjoying it was the hostel manager, who threatened to kick people out unless they shut-up.

Before going to bed, Heidi and Andrew were smoking a joint on the hostel verandah, when they saw a red Mazda turn into the car park and stop beneath a street light. Heidi drew on the joint and smiled as the car door opened and Jade stepped out, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

nineteen

Jade woke the hostel manager and paid for a private room, then she woke Tim. Their arguments and make-up sex were heard by most people in the hostel late into the night and through much of the next morning.

At midday, when Jade and Tim still hadn't emerged from their room, Andrew and Heidi walked into the main street to buy some lunch. They postponed eating, however, when they noticed a small crowd gathering around two performers down on the corner past the supermarket. They wandered closer to have a look. Two singers wearing Doc boots and knee-length gospel gowns stood at the centre of the crowd, swaying and clicking their fingers. Both of them had cropped hair except for long fringes which they wore swept to one side. Through the verse, the shorter, plumper of the two girls, who was wearing a lime-green robe, held down a simple melody, while the taller girl, who was dressed in deep blue, soared above the melody. On the chorus, they came in together, then split into rounds. Andrew imagined drums thumping through their voices, maybe someone on double bass, and him chopping out some chords on the keys. High-energy gospel…drums and keys…whatever—he didn't know what it would be called. He caught Heidi's eye and saw that she was thinking the same thing: the girls would be perfect for her mum's song.

Andrew and Heidi had both propositioned by crowd members after a show, especially by by other musicians, so they knew it was important not to appear too eager. They waited for the crowd to disperse, then moved in and introduced themselves.

‘Belinda,' said the taller of the two, holding out her hand. ‘And this is my partner, Emily.'

‘We loved your show.' Heidi shook Belinda's hand and smiled at Emily. ‘We're performers too. And we thought maybe you'd like to play a show with us?'

‘What do you play?'

‘Keys and drums,' Andrew interrupted. ‘We'd be a great fit. Heidi's written some lyrics and—'

Heidi cut him short with a look. Belinda glanced at Emily, something passing between them, before she turned back to Heidi.

‘Thanks,' Belinda said. ‘But we're a capella. And we don't do other people's songs.' She pulled her gospel gown over her head, revealing Japanese Anime-style Kanji tattoos that covered the lengths of both her arms. ‘Thanks for the offer though.' She turned away.

‘We're going to play tonight,' Heidi persisted. ‘Seven-thirty up near the pub. Drop by and have a listen. If you like it—feel free to join in. Mostly we improvise.'

When Belinda ignored her, Emily stepped forward, her voice soft. ‘What instrument do you play, Heidi?'

‘I'm on the drum kit. I used to play in an all-girl punk band in Adelaide. We were terrible, but the girls I played with got me into all sorts of kickarse girl bands. I just thought it would be fun for us to play together.'

Emily turned to Belinda. ‘What do you think?'

Belinda shrugged without looking at her.

‘Punk band?' Andrew said to Heidi as they walked off, his voice low. ‘It scares me how well you lie sometimes.'

‘I wasn't lying.'

‘You played in a punk band?'

‘You don't know much about me, do you?'

‘Only as much as you tell me.'

He took her hand and she laughed and looked away.

Tim and Jade's room smelled of sex, the sickly, sweet scent of overripe fruit.

‘Aca-what?' Tim said, the sheet drawn up to his waist and his hands behind his head.

‘A capella,' Andrew replied, leaning on the doorframe. ‘Unaccompanied singing. Kind of gospel style.'