The Byron Journals (22 page)

Andrew's head throbbed.

Belinda cleared her throat. ‘Is it all right?'

He thought of Belinda's anti-drug stance and the others down at the studio drinking, popping pills and snorting coke. ‘Yeah…of course. No worries.'

twenty-eight

‘Ouch!' Belinda said, standing in the open doorway. ‘What happened to your eye?'

Gingerly, Andrew raised his hand to the welt as though noticing it for the first time.

‘Did someone hit you?' she said.

‘No, no…' Andrew replied, moving aside to let the girls in. ‘Jade was taking photos of us in the studio… At the end of one of the songs, I got overexcited and jumped into the drum kit and knocked myself out.'

Emily laughed. ‘That was dumb.'

‘I guess I got carried away.'

Andrew led them into the living room and the three of them sat down.

‘So everything's set for tomorrow?' Belinda asked.

He nodded. ‘How's Heidi's song coming along— have you worked out a few melodies?'

‘Yeah—kind of. But the lyrics are pretty cryptic. It'd help if we knew what they were about.'

‘She's private like that,' Andrew replied. ‘I'd tell you myself but she'd probably get upset.'

Emily leaned forward. ‘There will definitely be time for us to record our own stuff too, won't there?'

‘Yep, no worries at all.'

‘So where are the others?' Belinda asked.

‘They're still in the studio.'

‘Still recording?'

‘I think so.'

‘I'm impressed. Maybe we could go down there and get familiar with the set-up. I wouldn't mind going through a few ideas with the sound engineer.'

‘No, they'll all be knocking off soon. Better if we have an early night so we're fresh in the morning.'

He found a spare mattress in Jade's room and made up a bed. As he did so, he recalled Benny's endless search for lesbians.

‘So you two are…gay?' he said, trying to sound casual. ‘Is that a problem?' Belinda said.

‘Not at all. It's just that an old friend of mine was obsessed with lesbians.'

‘Let me guess—was this friend heterosexual and male?'

‘Yeah.'

Belinda and Emily looked at him.

‘Never mind,' Andrew said. ‘Okay…well…Sleep well, then.'

Andrew woke to the sound of Belinda and Emily making themselves breakfast in the kitchen. He rolled onto his side and looked out the window to see a crisp blue sky. When he looked in the bathroom mirror, however, his swollen eye reminded him that there were a lot of things to be anxious about—shifts in alliance that might have taken place overnight, and the amount of drugs the others had taken.

He tried to phone Heidi to check everyone was up and ready to record. He tried Jade. Then Tim. Then Sam. But no one answered.

They drove across the city in the choir girls' Kombi van, Belinda behind the wheel and Andrew squashed against the passenger door beside Emily. The van was immaculately clean and smelled of patchouli incense and spilt coffee. World news crackled through the radio and Belinda turned it down to comment on America's military presence in Iraq. Emily sighed and shook her head, before refocusing her attention on the street directory. Andrew realised how long it had been since he'd connected with what was happening in the real world.

He pressed the bell and waited, dance music thumping behind the closed door. No one answered, so he rang again. ‘They're probably…doing some prep work... or…'

Belinda pushed her fringe from her eyes. ‘Why are they playing house music?'

‘I don't know.'

He pressed the bell a third time, paced, waited and pressed it again. Eventually, he held the bell down. It took almost two minutes for someone to answer, and unfortunately that someone was Cindy. She swung the door open and marched on the spot, laughing, her eyes rolling in her head.

Andrew waited for her to greet them, but she just danced and whinnied. He waved his hands in front of her. ‘Cindy! Cindy! Can we come in?'

She laughed, then turned and danced back down the hallway in a frenzy of hip-thrusts and kung fu moves.

Andrew paused in the doorway and turned to Belinda. ‘She's a friend…of a friend…of Sam's…We don't really know her that well…She wanted to check out the recording process.'

The girls followed him inside. The air stunk of cigarettes and dope. On the coffee table sat several empty red wine glasses and a rectangular mirror dusted with coke residue. Music thumped through the stereo—too loud for conversation. Tim and Sam were playing Play-Station, Jade and Cindy were dancing next to the stereo speakers, and Heidi was sitting on the couch with her feet on the table, reading—or at least attempting to read a book. Jade ran to the choir girls and threw her arms around them. Heidi turned to them dreamy-eyed, heaved off the couch and hugged them. Andrew walked to the stereo and turned the music off. The room filled with the staccato noises of Tim and Sam's characters beating each other on the flat screen.

‘So…' Andrew said, raising his voice. ‘Who's ready to record? Sam?'

‘What?'

‘Sam—this is Belinda and Emily.'

Sam's eyes didn't leave the screen. The girls stared at him.

When Sam didn't respond, Belinda said, ‘Well, we're here and we're ready to record. How about you guys?'

‘Yep, I am!' Heidi cut a jagged line towards the staircase and ran up the stairs.

Moments later, an erratic drum beat started up.

‘Tim…C'mon!' Andrew said. ‘Let's set up!'

Tim flinched and twisted his control in front of him. Sam erupted with laughter.

‘So are we recording?' Belinda said. ‘Or is everyone too drug-fucked?' When no one responded, she raised her voice. ‘I said, is everyone here too drug-fucked to record? Is that the score?'

Sam turned and glared at her. ‘I resent that.'

‘So resent it.'

He paused the game and turned to face her. ‘Hey, I live here. Who are you again?'

Belinda faced Andrew and he fumbled for an explanation. ‘This isn't normal for us, it's just—'

‘This isn't normal for anyone, it's far from normal.'

‘What I mean is…' He decided to level with them.

‘I should have told you, but there have been a lot of problems…relationship problems…for us while we've been on the road. Tim and I had a fight last night. That's why I've got a black eye. I shouldn't have lied, but… Anyway, Tim came out here to blow off steam…it looks like everyone's been blowing off steam.'

Belinda looked at Emily. ‘I can't believe this.'

Emily nodded. ‘What a waste of time. Let's go.'

‘Please, don't leave,' Andrew said. ‘We really need… Heidi in particular…really needs this recording. For her mum…she wrote those lyrics she gave you—'

‘On crack—I know.'

‘No, not on crack. Please…just listen…it's important. Just give me five minutes to sort everyone out.'

‘We'll wait outside for five,' Belinda said. ‘Then we're gone.'

They walked out and Andrew ran upstairs. It took him a while to stop Heidi from beating her drums.

She was red in the face and panting. ‘What?'

‘The girls are leaving.'

‘No, they're not. They just got here.'

‘You're all fucked on drugs—and they hate drugs, remember?'

‘So…'

‘Don't you want to record something for your mum?'

The mention of her mum seemed to ground her. ‘But…'

‘They're going to leave unless you can convince them otherwise. You need to tell them why you're recording the song. You need to tell them about your mum. Quick—go. They're waiting outside.'

Something in Heidi clicked. She straightened herself, rushed down the stairs and switched off the PlayStation. She ordered Tim to put away the drugs and clean up. Andrew switched on the kettle and started to prepare coffee while Heidi raced outside.

She came back fifteen minutes later, bleary-eyed from crying and her arm around Belinda. Emily followed warily. Heidi had told them the full story. Belinda and Emily sat in the corner with Heidi's lyrics, studying them and reworking the melodies. The others drank coffee and ate toast. An hour later, they all made their way upstairs to try their luck in the studio.

There was nothing amazing about Heidi's words in a literary sense—something about love, regret and doing things differently. They were plain words. But when Belinda and the girls sang them, their voices cast nets into each of their private selves and hauled up forgotten feelings and memories. And as these rare, forgotten things flickered inside each of them, it dawned on Andrew that music was the most important thing of all; it was what brought them together, it was what made them feel the most alive.

They did a few improvised takes and recorded them. From there, Andrew and Belinda decided upon a basic structure, ironed out the creases, and prepared to play a final take. Andrew gave it everything he had.

They poured out of the studio into the mixing room and listened back to the song. Maybe they were exhausted from the day's recording, maybe it was those expensive Danish speakers. Whatever it was, Heidi's song pumped, soared and sparkled. Andrew's skin shivered every time they hit the chorus. It was brilliant. Heidi started crying. She wrapped her arms around him and held him for a long time. He knew she didn't forgive him, but perhaps recording this song for her mum was one step in healing a wound inside Heidi, and perhaps towards healing some of the problems between them.

Back at Jade's apartment, all they could talk about was how good the recording was. How good they were. How they were going to take over the world. Get record contracts. Make film clips for Rage and MTV. The choir girls had a less megalomaniacal vision, but the others didn't hold that against them.

It wasn't until they were getting ready for bed that Tim drew Andrew away from the others. ‘You know,' he said. ‘This doesn't change what happened in Tamworth.'

Andrew nodded.

Tim rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘And just so you know, Jade said you were her worst root ever.'

Andrew paused. ‘Yep.'

‘Ever.'

‘Okay.'

Tim squeezed his shoulder, smiling. ‘She said you were absolutely terrible.'

‘Okay, Tim. I get the idea.'

Tim's smile faded. ‘You know the job Sam's asked us to do?'

Andrew's nerves tingled. ‘Yeah?'

‘I was hoping that you'd volunteer to take care of it—since you're the one with legal protection.'

Andrew was cornered. ‘Coke's pretty serious though.' ‘You don't have to do it if you don't want. I just thought you might be happy to do it…considering everything that's happened.'

Andrew shut his eyes and nodded.

twenty-nine

The following morning, Belinda and Emily said their goodbyes and headed back to the studio. Sam had let them record their own songs, as long as they agreed to do vocals on some electronic dance tracks he was producing. The other four spent half the day at the beach, before locking Jade's dad's apartment and heading south with their newly recorded song looping on the bus stereo. They were good; there was no denying it. There was just one tiny mistake on Heidi's drum track—a slight overstep on a fill. And it didn't bother any of them except Heidi.

‘Maybe Sam could digitally remove it or something?' she said, looking up from the magazine she was reading.

‘I wouldn't risk it,' Andrew replied. ‘He'll probably delete the whole track. And besides, you can barely notice it.'

‘Yeah, but I notice it.'

‘It's fine.'

‘It's not fine. How can I give it to Mum when I've made a mistake? It's insulting.'

Andrew sighed. Her mum wasn't going to care if the song was riddled with mistakes; it was the intention that mattered.

He watched the passing traffic and was glad to be leaving. He was sick of the whole big-city ant-farm. Cars inching along congested roads. Signs everywhere telling you what to be, what to buy, where to go. He was relieved when the dense suburbs gave way to more spacious areas. Parks. A golf course.

He started to relax, but then he remembered the coke deal and his nerves pulled tight. The pick-up was tonight and he had no idea what to expect.

Wollongong. There was a man-made harbour filled with yachts and trawlers, Norfolk pines along the esplanade and a Rugby League stadium at the edge of the town. A lighthouse sat on the headland and closer to shore surfers paddled and launched into the breaking waves. What dominated the township, however, was the steelworks at the end of the beach, pillars of smoke drifting from its towering chimney stacks.

They parked the bus in a backstreet near the hostel.

Heidi and Andrew walked to town to buy takeaway. The main shopping mall was dead. They bought Chinese and headed back to the hostel. Halfway back, four guys in a hotted-up Skyline slowed beside them, stared them down, then spun their tyres and took off.

Heidi shook her head and watched them go. ‘This place creeps me out.'

‘It's not quite Byron, is it?'

‘No.' She paused and looked at him. ‘Tim told me you've volunteered to do the pick-up tonight.'

He nodded and continued walking.

‘I just hope you're not doing it for the reason I think you're doing it.'

‘What's that?'

‘To make up for Tamworth.'

They crossed the road in silence.

‘Just don't let Tim guilt-trip you into doing something you don't want to do,' she said.

‘It's a bit late to back out.'

‘It's never too late to back out of anything.'

‘Don't you think I can handle it?'

She squeezed his shoulder and they stopped walking. ‘Even though Sam looks fairly harmless, he's hooked up to some pretty heavy guys—real underworld types. Same with Jade's connections through the strip-club.'