Claudia's Big Break (18 page)

‘Eggs with a bit of tomato juice thrown in.'

‘Err, no thanks.' I pushed it away.

‘Drink it. You'll feel better.'

‘The only thing that will make me feel better is another day's sleep.'

‘Should have stuck to the one alcoholic drink, one water principle,' said Sophie.

‘Does anyone do that? Maybe for the first two drinks, but after a few cocktails, forget it.'

‘I don't,' Tara admitted. ‘Though I did buy mineral waters at one stage.'

I nodded. ‘Pity I didn't drink mine.'

‘You'd feel a lot better this morning if you did,' said Sophie.

‘Okay, Mother. I'll remember that next time,' I said, feeling my face ache every time I spoke. ‘Now then, I have a vague recollection of dancing . . .'

‘Well, honey,' said Tara, ‘you were on the dance floor, but you weren't actually moving in time to the music. As for the karaoke —'

‘How is your cheek, by the way?' Sophie asked and peered closely at it. Too close. ‘You can still see the indents where the microphone slammed into the side of your face.'

‘I take it that packet of peas you took to bed with you is dead?' said Tara.

‘Trod on it.'

‘There's no stopping you when you want to sing,' said Tara. ‘I reckon you could have thrown that kid to the other side of the room.

‘The look on his face!' said Sophie.

‘It was one of my favourites,' I said, remembering my enthusiasm for ‘Sweet Caroline'.

Sophie shrugged. ‘Drunk people really don't have any idea how appalling their singing voices are.'

‘Yeah, maybe you need a few voice lessons,' said Tara, patting me on the shoulder. ‘For next time.'

I buried my head in my lap. I vaguely remembered singing ‘Push pineapple, shake the tree'
,
complete with all the actions.

‘The difference between you and us is that we had the good sense to get off after one song,' chortled Tara. ‘You, drinks and microphones, Claud, the three of you must stay away from each other.'

‘Nudie, rudie, nudie, rudie,' squealed Levi as he ran outside and around the table.

‘I didn't, did I?' I said, aghast.

‘What?' Sophie asked.

‘Run around in the nude, dancing.' I pointed to where Levi was shaking his bare bottom in time to some horrid screechy music.

Sophie laughed. ‘Not when I was with you.'

‘Thank goodness. I thought he might have been re-enacting a scene from last night.'

‘Wow, Claud, that mic really did hit you hard,' said Tara.

‘Understatement. Look at me!'

‘Thanks, but I'd rather not if it's all the same.'

‘And Jack?' I asked, almost as an afterthought.

‘Well, Soph and I were just discussing Jack. He seemed to disappear amid all the singing.'

‘That's a relief.'

‘He did get to see a bit of the Claudia Show though.'

I sighed. ‘The Claudia Freak Show more like it.'

Slumping against the open fridge door, I wanted to throw myself in. I settled for looking for something to eat, anything that'd make me feel better. Water? Tried that, still felt like shit. Strawberry juice? God, no.

I was devouring chocolate ice cream from the freezer when I felt a pair of eyes zooming in on me. Levi. At least he had his swimmers on. With my mouth full of ice cream, I stuck my head in the freezer and pretended he wasn't there. Then I made kicking motions in his direction. There was something enormously humiliating about being caught by a three-year-old gobbling ice cream from the freezer.

‘Go away,' I moaned.

I crawled upstairs and slammed my bedroom door shut. I shouldn't have. The impact of the noise sent a searing pain through my brain. I struggled into bed and climbed under the sheets. Safe from the world at last.

But it was no use, I couldn't get back to sleep. My mind was racing. Regarding the list I'd made myself twenty-four hours earlier, I'd failed on every account; okay, so I didn't have a one-night stand or race around the apartment naked, clanging saucepans together, but my behaviour was still shabby and immature.

I climbed out of bed, thinking a cup of tea might help me focus, and limped slowly, hesitantly, down the stairs, only to be confronted by a bemused Sophie, Levi, Tara and Jack.

14

D
ishevelled. Mascara down around my chin. Bruised cheek and wearing a very short T-shirt that read
Bad Girl
. I wasn't looking my best. Then again, I hadn't been expecting company.

While I was in the bathroom, trying to rectify some of the damage with a hot shower, Tara slipped me two magic headache tablets and fifteen minutes later I was feeling much better. Well, alive, at least.

What was
he
doing here? Through the window in my bedroom, I could see and hear Jack out on the patio laughing as if he hadn't a care in the world. Didn't he know I was in the middle of a crisis?

No one should ever make an impromptu visit to a person's house the morning after a huge night out. A night out where the said person had been partying and now just wanted to recover by lying in the sun and feeling sorry for herself. It wasn't fair. On top of everything, Marcus had been ringing all morning about his precious bloody package.

I brushed my hair over the bruise on my face, but I couldn't figure out what to wear. I had absolutely no clothes. All I knew was that I had to wear flat shoes but that was silly because I didn't have any apart from thongs I'd bought at a street stall. I glanced into the cupboard. Thongs it was.

Stay calm. Think rationally. What could I wear, given that I was feeling fat, untidy and unwell? The shorts? No. They'd expose too much thigh. Singlet? No. That would emphasise my upper arms. Skirt? Definitely not. Skirts cut my waist in half and made me look short and pudgy —

‘What the hell are you doing in here?' Tara barked, flinging open the bedroom door.

I jumped. ‘What are you doing in here, more like it? You scared the bejesus out of me.'

‘Speed it up, girlie. Put this shirt on,' she said, tossing a white T-shirt at me.

‘It's crumpled. Besides, I'm too pasty to wear white —'

After rummaging in the cupboard, she threw some long pants down on the bed. ‘Shut up and put it on with these culotty type things.'

‘Culottes? These are not culottes.'

‘Whatever you want to call them, put them on and get downstairs now.'

It would have been far better had Sophie burst into my room. At least she would have thoughtfully advised me about what to wear, rather than throwing anything into my wretched puffy face.

I was finally ready. As ready as I'd ever be this morning, considering that today was up there with one of the worst days in recent memory. I edged down the stairs slowly, holding the handrail for support.

‘Hi, Jack,' I said in a bright voice when I'd finally made it to the lounge room. He didn't turn around. No one did. All four of them were glued to the TV watching a report about Lindsay Lohan. I slouched against the wall and closed my eyes, waiting for a fresh wave of nausea to pass. Then I jumped to the sound of an ear-piercing cymbal clanging. Bloody Levi!

Certainly Jack didn't look like he'd had a rough night. His clothes didn't have that slept-in look. In fact, his well-proportioned and tanned face was freshly shaven and alert. The Jack pack scored a big thumbs-up.

‘Good morning,' he said, walking across to me after noticing me staring. ‘Just catching up on why LiLo has been arrested again.'

‘Shush,' Sophie said, pushing the volume button on the remote control.

‘And?' I whispered as we walked outside to the terrace. Rather, Jack walked, I stumbled, clutching at the walls for support wherever I could.

‘Throwing drinks in a bar, the usual.'

It was far too early in the day for me to concentrate. Besides, the bruise on the side of my face was throbbing.

‘Is it hot out here or is it just me?' I said, sitting down carefully. I was on fire — and not the good ‘I'm on fire' either. I was sweating liquor. Jack was watching, waiting for me to speak again. To say something that made sense.

‘It's really hot, isn't it?' I said, waving my hand in front of my face like an imaginary fan.

‘Sophie and Tara have been filling me in about how your night ended,' Jack said just as Tara and Sophie joined us.

‘Not the toilet thing,' Sophie mouthed. (I had no idea what she meant by that.)

‘Good night, was it?' Jack grinned. ‘You've certainly got a good set of lungs. I'll give you that.'

They all laughed. I didn't. ‘Yes, laugh all you want, traitors . . . I'll remember this the next time you're all hungover and feeling sorry for yourselves. I, too, will show no mercy.'

‘What happened to your face?' Jack said suddenly, his eyes zooming in on my cheek. Did Jack have a sensitive side? I liked that.

‘Nothing,' I said coolly, dismissing my injury with a casual hand wave. ‘Slight slip with a microphone, that's all.'

‘Hmm,' he said, inspecting my cheek closer than I'd have liked. He'd be able to count every enlarged pore on my nose if he got any closer. ‘You do have a touch of the Rickys about you.'

‘Pardon?'

‘The Rickys, as in Ricky Dennis, aka Eric Stoltz in
Mask
. . . Elephantiasis.'

‘Yes, I know who he is,' I said, waving him away. So much for Jack being sensitive. He was an oaf, a dolt. I didn't think I looked
that
grotesque.

‘Or William Hurt . . . elephant man,' Tara said.

‘Do you mind? I'm in pain here,' I snapped.

‘Claud, you don't look too bad considering the huge night you had,' said Jack.

I glared at him. How did he know?

I caught a whiff of my hair. Ugh. It stank — cigarettes, alcohol and sweat. I had washed it, several times, but the smell stuck around. Another wave of queasiness washed over me.
Off
you trot,
I thought,
so I can collapse in a heap on the floor.
But Jack wasn't moving.

‘How about a late breakfast?' he suggested.

‘Gee, I'd love to, Jack,' I lied, suppressing the urge to vomit, ‘but I've got things to do today, and besides, I promised Levi I'd take him to the beach.'

After mumbling something vague about seeing him tomorrow, Jack finally departed.

‘I thought he'd never leave,' I said to the others later as we sat on rickety wooden stools outside the local shops.

Tara shook her head. ‘I don't get it. I thought you liked Jack?'

‘She does,' said Sophie. ‘But she's scared of getting her heart broken again, aren't you, Claudie?'

‘No, I did want him to leave. I looked atrocious.' I didn't want Sophie to be right, but she was. I couldn't go through another heartbreak so soon after Marcus. I was happy to have fun with Jack as long as my feelings for him didn't deepen. But I'd come to learn that my feelings pretty much did whatever they wanted. I had no control over them and that frightened me.

‘And?' Sophie persisted.

I glared at her. ‘And nothing! End of story.'

The last thing I had wanted to do was venture out into public but my desire for a Coke Zero and grease was stronger than my urge to lie by the pool and wallow. Besides, Levi had overheard the beach remark and, as a bribe for not really taking him, we'd reached an agreement whereby I'd buy him a block of chocolate. A big block.

I looked like death and wasn't feeling much better. My cheek throbbed and my feet were a mass of blisters. So much for being a mature woman.

After wolfing down a kebab and guzzling a Coke, I didn't feel any better. In fact, I felt much worse.

‘I think I need to lie down,' I said to the others.

‘No argument from me,' said Tara, standing.

‘Me either,' agreed Soph. ‘Levi and I will read some stories, won't we, Leeve?' Hearing that, Levi shook his head and ran on ahead. We watched as he sprinted along the path. None of us was in any condition to keep up.

Reaching Marcella's, we began the long descent to our apartment.

‘Soph, did you leave the door open?' Tara asked as we neared the bottom of the stairs and saw that the front door to our apartment was wide open.

‘Don't think so,' she replied. It usually fell upon Sophie to lock up, as she and Levi were normally last out.

No one could remember who'd left the apartment last this morning. Two hours seemed like days ago. It could have been any one of us.

I stepped off the stairs and onto the terrace. Sophie held Levi's hand and we caught up to Tara who was peeking inside.

‘Fuck,' she said, as we gathered around her. ‘Some arsehole's broken in.'

In the living room, drawers had been wrenched from cabinets and thrown onto the floor, as had books, magazines and sofa cushions. Chairs lay overturned. It was a huge mess but nothing appeared broken.

‘Aarrhh,' shrieked Sophie from her bedroom. Tara and I rushed in. Drawers lay on the bed and floor and her clothes from the cupboard were strewn about the place. Even Levi's toy case had been opened and tossed about.

After giving Soph a quick hug, Tara and I raced upstairs. My room was as messed up as Sophie's. Tara's room looked pretty much as it had that morning.

‘My notebooks, my notebooks,' Tara screamed, before finding them and flipping through the pages to make sure nothing had been ripped out.

‘
Chesta!
I am so so sorry,' Marcella said when she arrived soon after. ‘I apologise.'

‘It's not your fault, Marcella,' I said.

‘Nothing seems to have been taken,' said Sophie, holding up her passport.

‘Oh no,' said Marcella, verging on hysteria. ‘I call
i astinomia
, police.' She walked back upstairs but not before telling us not to touch anything.