Authors: Billie Jones
May Day looked over at me, and then back to Tim, took a deep breath and continued, ‘I, well, I thought after I had my last surgery …’ she looked at the ground and fumbled with the thin belt of the kimono.
‘May Day, spit it out,’ Tim said, getting frustrated at his confusion. ‘What did you think?’
‘That, that well, maybe we’d end up together. I thought when I undressed before I made my intentions clear?’
See, I told you. It was as played out as Kylie Minogue’s English accent.
Timothy looked at me apologetically. He seemed crestfallen. ‘Oh, May Day. I’m so sorry. I just think of you as one of the guys. Like a member of the same club. Like a brother. Like a …’
‘I get it,’ May Day said, as she stood in all her six-foot glory. Geez, she was tall. ‘Never mind, I’ll be leaving.’ Her voice lost its saccharine timbre and reverted back to a manly boom. ‘Well done, Samantha. Seems none of the ugly footage of you has done any harm. You still have two of the best guys in town eating out of your hand.’
I must say, she said that in a very catty way.
‘
Two
guys?’ asked Timothy.
I shrugged my shoulders at him, as if to say ‘who knows?’ and threw an empty dry-cleaning bag at her. ‘You can wear that downstairs to pick up your dress.’ She dropped the kimono and stood naked with just her huge white heels on. I closed my eyes before any more damage could be done to my psyche. I’d seen enough nakedness for one day. She wrapped the dry-cleaning bag around her lithe frame and stormed out of the apartment, not before she stomped on the box of petit fours. Now that was just unreasonable. Her subservient nature was obviously a farce. Jesus, talk about huffy.
‘Wow, you sure know how to pick them, Timothy. What the hell did you do to make her think you were interested?’
‘Nothing! She’s been at the cafe for weeks now asking about you. I thought she liked you!’
She probably did. I’m pretty sure she winked at me as she flounced out. I picked up the flowers, the champagne and the squashed box of pastries.
‘Why were you seeing the Dingle?’
‘Oh, I had a few issues with the apartment. I’ve decided to vacate in five days.’
‘What! Why? Where will you live?’
Good question. ‘They kept trying to put the rent up. And charging me for a gardener when I don’t even have a garden! I don’t know where I’ll go. Maybe JJ has room in his new apartment.’
Tim looked dejected. ‘Why don’t you live with me instead?’
JJ owned a brand-new penthouse apartment in South Perth that overlooked the city, while Timothy had a two-storey townhouse overlooking Cottesloe beach. Tough choice. Time-share?
‘Of course. I’ll definitely consider it.’ I didn’t want him to think we were back together just like that after all he’d put me through. I am, by nature, kind, accepting and forgiving, not one of those massively long grudge-holders like Kylie, but some things are better left unsaid. The less he knew the better. Relationships were all about the balance of power.
Picking up the kimono, I surmised it couldn’t be coincidence I’d just been evicted and one of the loves of my life was under siege. Danger lurked at every turn. I’d
have
to get rid of the kimono.
Truth Serum
I walked over to the kimono and picked it up. That no-good drag queen had some balls throwing it down like that. I looked at it. Suddenly it had lost its unique glow, the colours seemed to bleed into each other, the paper-thin silk looked worn instead of delicate. I simply couldn’t have it near me any longer.
‘I’m going to list this on eBay,’ I said.
‘Really? What a relief, Sam! Your Mum and I have been so worried, but she told me not to mention it because I’ll end up on your suspect list …’
‘You’re already on the list, Tim. You
and
Toff.’
‘I see.’ He scratched his hairless chin. ‘In that case, I think it’s a good idea you get rid of it, and hopefully this whole curse shemozzle will be over.’
‘I’m not sure that selling the kimono will stop the curse. It’s just that it smells like envy now. It’s very off-putting.’
Timothy hung his head, knowing full well whatever he said would be taken the wrong way, so he did the right thing and kept his mouth shut. He wandered into the kitchenette and hunted through the sink for some wine glasses. He was walking around naked as he’d tossed the hand towel aside after May Day had left. I noticed he had an all-over natural-looking tan.
Sans tan lines
.Wow, that guy knew exactly what hot was. He walked back with two different sized wine glasses and I know this for sure because I was trying really hard to keep my eyes above his nether regions.
‘Do you want me to crack open the champers, Sweet Cheeks?’
‘Ah. Yes.’ A perfectly proportioned, full-body-tanned, former male model with healthy glossy hair and smooth skin walking around naked was kind of turning my brain to mush. I had to be very careful the balance of power didn’t shift in these unforeseen circumstances.
Timothy walked back with two full wine glasses and sat next to me on the lounge. With the weight of both of us, we sank and rolled into each other. I was feeling mightily overdressed at this point.
‘So, I was thinking if you were serious about getting back together, we could sell up and go travelling for a while. I know you’ve always wanted to go to Paris,’ he said.
That’s because JJ was living there. ‘Really? Sell up? You’d leave the café just like that? What will we do for money?’ I mean, I know the cafe was worth a fair bit, but I wasn’t prepared to travel on a budget or anything like that. Backpacker hostels were full of people who called swimming in the ocean a shower and a can of baked beans a gourmet dinner. It just wasn’t me. Packing light didn’t come naturally, either. People who stopped wearing make-up because they were on holiday just astounded me. Shouldn’t you wear extra because you have more time to apply it?
‘Well, I figured we’d sell the cafe and rent out the townhouse. I actually made a few good investments in the last year or so. I was thinking of selling them and seeing a bit of the world.’
‘Investing? How did you get into that?’
‘Through your mum, actually.’
Jesus. The plot thickens. ‘How would my Mum know anything about investing?’
‘She saw it in a vision. Then she astral-travelled to me and told me to buy as many shares as I could in the local brothel that was becoming a public company. The stocks soared and the CEO decided to franchise. Baby cake Bordello’s – you might have heard of them?’
‘No. Never had much reason to visit a bordello. Why did Mum choose you?’
‘She reckons I was the only one with an open mind and enough cash.’
‘Looks like she’s gathering followers and some liquid investments for that cult she’s been talking about for ages.’
Tim’s eyes widened like he’d just seen Charles Manson.
‘What cult?’ Really, he was so easy to bamboozle sometimes.
‘Oh, she doesn’t use the word cult. Nature retreat, she calls it. You know all that eating mung beans and chanting using her high priestess name Seriah-lieh. Need a lot of funds for those places. Funds,
and
protection from the police.’
Tim looked momentarily worried until he remembered who he was talking about. ‘Your mum would never do anything illegal. She’s still reeling over your dad.’
‘Maybe he taught her everything she knows!’ I said.
Tim shook his head, almost getting offended on behalf of my crazy mother. Timothy was completely different to Toffany. It seemed that once he donned that long blonde wig and put chicken fillets into his push-up bra he became Toff the tough-talking drag queen with an attitude problem. Timothy was the opposite: a sensitive, funny, caring beach bum with a killer body and a smile to die for.
‘So, will you come to Paris with me?’ he asked.
‘Maybe. I do have my career to think of.’ I was planning to sort myself out in that department very soon. Next week or the week after. Or the week after that. Really depends on the house situation. I want to commit to the job I accept, you know. Not be half-arsed when I start. Actually, a year or two travelling might be just the thing I need. The only obstacle was JJ. The thought of leaving him made me feel physically sick.
I loved him. Timothy wasn’t Toffany, though, so I wondered whether Timothy would remember his illicit affair with JJ? It wasn’t actually Tim, it was Toff. I get confused.
‘If I asked you a question, would you give me an honest answer?’ he asked. Geez, could that be any broader? The likelihood of honesty was slim to none.
‘Of course,’ I said.
Tim clasped my hand and locked his beautiful blue eyes onto mine. Oh, no. I knew I was dangerously close to losing my hold over him as I felt myself melt. I hope he didn’t ask me to kill anyone or vote Liberal because I’d do whatever he said at this point. ‘Do you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you love JJ?’
‘Yes.’ Oh God, it just slipped out. It was like he’d spiked my drink with truth serum.
‘Do you love him more than me?’
‘No.’
‘If I asked you to leave him, would you?’
‘No.’
‘OK. That’s settled then. Maybe we need to ask JJ if he wants to travel the world. We’re going to make a good-looking trio.’
Usually I’d be excited that someone had offered to take me travelling around the world with no expense spared and agreed to take my other boyfriend along for the ride, but something was niggling at me. Unfinished business. The curse. I needed to find out who had it in for me and, I don’t know, resolve it, like an adult or something.
I started to feel hot, as in temperature-wise. Honestly. That’s why I took my clothes off. It wasn’t a premeditated sex thing, if that’s what you’re thinking. Timothy looked at me in surprise and kissed me. I was a little alarmed when the kiss still felt like the kiss of a gay man, but who was I to argue? The kiss of a gay man is the best kiss there is. Our hands were a confusion. Rapidly caressing, feeling the way all over each other. His skin felt so soft and supple I wanted to taste it. We kicked the junk off the end of the lounge and lay side by side. He pulled me closer to him and I could feel his erection against my belly. That was a good sign. I reached for it, almost desperate after the sex drought I’d been through …
Loud, insistent knocking at the door. Goddamn it to buggery!
‘Samantha, open this door immediately!’
The very annoying next door neighbour from hell. Why didn’t I buy lilies that were already blooming? I put half of my clothes back on and opened the door for Kylie. ‘What is it?’ I asked.
She had her ‘I’m an adult and you’re a naughty school girl’ face on. If only she knew what I was about to get up to.
‘Mrs Dingleberry just informed me you’re moving out!’
‘Yes. In five days.’
‘Why?’
‘What do you care? Less time for photo ops for Facebook?’
‘What? No!’
‘Twitter?’
‘No!’
‘MySpace?’
‘No one uses MySpace any more.’
‘Instagram, then?’
‘Enough,’ she said, back to her bossy voice. ‘I’m surprised that’s all. We agreed to live next to each other forever after the double break-up disaster we went through. Where will you go?’ Her tone of voice was making me feel guilty, like I was orphaning her or something.
‘I have a few options. Tim, JJ, my mother.’
She started this little shoulder-quiver-held-in-sob type thing she does. Now she was intentionally trying to make me feel guilty.
‘I’m sorry, Kylie, but you might want to consider moving too. Do you realise they’re charging for window cleaners? For garage attendants? I didn’t even know there was a garage!’
‘It’s totally normal, Sam. That’s called strata fees. Your garage space is filled with um, office supplies you happened across in the job before last. Remember?’ she said.
‘Happened across?’ What the hell? She was speaking in riddles.
‘
Stolen
office supplies. Broken printers they used for parts, boxes of A4 paper you seem to have a fixation with, filing cabinets, paperclips, liquid paper pens, hole punches …’
‘OK, OK I get it. Jesus. I don’t like the way you’re implying I stole those items!’ I had forgotten all about that job and those particular perks. I definitely didn’t have a fixation on A4 paper. I just didn’t like to run out of it. Office supplies always reminded me of Dad’s bookie business. He was always surrounded by paper. He had some kind of laundry business there, too. Mum said they washed the paper to make it new again. I just like paper. It’s not a fetish or anything.
Kylie scoffed. I hate that scoff she does. ‘You did steal it!’
I returned the scoff. ‘I hardly think so, Kylie! I encouraged the boss to go for recycled paper!’
‘The sooner you admit you’re an alcoholic kleptomaniac with delusions of grandeur the better!’ Here we go. Our OCD neighbour had turned. Timothy was looking at us with a grin on his face. I guess he was used to drag queens arguing, but Kylie was much more dramatic.
‘Do you feel the need to clean something?’
‘My condition is not a joke!’
‘It was a serious question!’
‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ Tim said, interrupting. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your condition?’
Kylie narrowed her eyes and glowered at me, ‘I’m surprised you haven’t spread it around town yet,’ she said to me.
‘Jeez, Louise. Hark who speaketh!’ I said.
She faced Timothy and said, ‘I have a compulsion to clean. Samantha seems to think I have OCD tendencies, but I don’t think it’s that serious.’ She scanned my apartment which obviously looked very different from hers, considering I didn’t spend six hours a day cleaning it and said, ‘You know, I only developed this condition after living next door to Samantha. I think there’s something in that.’
Hmph. ‘Well, you only have five days to go and then you may be cured! Hallelujah!’ I said.
‘Do you wash your hands constantly?’ asked Tim.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I try not to because they get so dry, but touching people’s hair all day kind of grosses me out. I wear gloves, but I don’t like the idea of where the rubber’s been. It’s a Catch 22.’