Confessions of a Blogger

Sixty

2005-06-03T09:28:00.000+10:00

It took me a while to fully explain my predicament to Gary. At first his solution was to stop writing in my blog, or even to delete the whole thing.

“But they know where I live,” I said. “If they can’t communicate easily with me – they might try... alternative means.”

“Well they’re not exactly butch are they? Threatening you over the internet and making deliveries when you’re not home. If they were some sort of he-man they would have come round and told you to back off face to face.”

I nodded. He had a point, but... well I’d had some of my best fights over the internet. His assertion that it wasn’t manly to conduct fights in the virtual realm kind of peeved me. “Well anyway, since you’re the King of Corruption I figured you’d have an underhanded and dirty way of finding out who it is.”

Gary accepted his title with humility. “What if it’s me?”

“It’s not you.”

“How do you know?”

I pulled out his secret book-cooking pad from under the cash register. “Cause you’re almost as technologically inept as Mike.” He wasn’t being the answer to all my problems like I thought he would be. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you all this.”

“Oh I know how to catch them.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Well, you gonna tell me?”

His gaze shifted to something behind me.

“Boys.” It sounded like an accusation and a threat eminating via a smooth female voice that could only belong to one person.

It’d been a while since I’d seen her curves but I swear their potency had risen since the last time they writhed in front of me. She wore one of those tops with no straps – that somehow defied gravity to stay tantalisingly in place.

My mouth dried. “Lisa.”

Gary grinned, looking from Lisa to me and back again like he had front row seats at Wimbledon.
She didn’t reply as such, just kind of smouldered by the counter and widened one mascara reinforced eye.

“I didn’t know if I should call or not... after... well, you know.”

She looked me up and down with her unblinking eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

“Hi Lisa,” said Gary, his teeth dangling out of his mouth.

“Gary. So you’re still a free man?”

“Swinging in the breeze.”

“You wish.” They both laughed.

I forced a complimentary snigger but their familiarity and innuendo hadn’t escaped me – and I wouldn’t put anything past Lisa.

Lisa turned back to me. “You seem to have been keeping Nina busy.”

I nodded. I hadn’t talked to Lisa since that day Mike had busted in on us in her new place. It felt awkward not knowing where any of us stood, and especially uncomfortable discussing Nina. “I guess.”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt about it... boyfriend.”

She and Gary snorted.

Why was I getting the feeling I was on the outside of something?

Fifty Nine

2005-05-29T20:03:00.000+10:00

"Now what did you mean about Nina."

Gary unrolled another Britney poster and replaced the sold one on the wall. "Geez Des, relax. I was just spinning you out. I've got my fingers in other pies... so to speak." He winked at me.

"So why does she come in here?"

Gary pulled a pencil from behind his ear and sat on a stool that seemed to have been chewed by a large animal. He pulled out a tattered exercise book from under the cash register and wrote down his five dollar sale.

"The cash register too advanced?" I asked.

"That's only for official sales."

"Of course."

He stashed his record book and put the pencil back behind his ear. "Nina's got a secret and I'm pretty sure you don't know about it."

"What?" I knew there was a reason for the bag dresses. Maybe she was pregnant. Maybe she was a guy...

"You wanna sit down?"

"Just tell me."

Gary crossed his legs like he was contemplating the half life of the nuclear winter his bomb would wreak upon my world. "If you're sure."

"Tell me."

"Ok. There's no easy way to say this. She's, she's into LRB."

"What?" I'm thinking trancs, acid, speed, LSD, I dunno the acronyms for new fangled drugs.

Gary couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

"If you're talking about Little River Band I am gonna feed you those posters."

Gary laughed. "You should've seen your face."

"I thought she was pregnant or something. Maybe that would have been better. LRB? Are you serious."

Gary nodded. "Afraid so."

"Glen or John?"

"Both."

"Argh, man!"

"I warned you."

"Well now that you've had your fun, I've got a problem for you. A real problem."

Gary leant forward. "Spill."

Chapter Sixty

Fifty Eight

2005-05-27T11:50:00.000+10:00

After dragging my bucket of cleaning products through Paula's back door I found a note next to the money she had left on the kitchen bench.

"Des, thanks for all your hard work. We're moving next week and won't be needing your services any more."

I slammed the note down. "No way!" With Paula gone I was down to just one client - Mr and Mrs Cop. "Damn it." Now I'd have to ring the agency and see why they weren't sending me any new clients.

I got to work, taking out my anger on bathroom scum but I only did an ok job overall. I didn't want a complaint, but I wasn't going to waste time on details when there was no future upside. I would have stuck her toothbrush in the dunny but she'd always been nice to me. And she and her roomy were cute. I settled for licking their cheese.

Sure you wouldn't have done that but I'd read her mail. I knew about the new investment property she couldn't really afford - and that she'd only just got tennants for it. And that her Mastercard was maxed. No way was she moving. She was just trying to let me down easy. Well no one let's Des Perrat down easy and gets away with it.

And no one stalks me either. Especially not with pig trotters.

I was in such a filthy mood that I hadn't thought about much except me - and how unfair everything that happened to me was - until I found myself leaning over Gary's shop counter. It was only when he bristled at my half hearted "Hey" that I thought about our last contact and how I mightant be his favourite person in the world at the moment.

"Next time you feel guilty, don't call me."

I shrugged. "Sorry about that. Did you miss much business?" One thing that irritated Gary was missing a deal. Sending him to Mike's only for him to find the place empty would not have gone down well. And maybe he was still miffed about me stealing Nina out of his shop too.

"I missed enough."

There were a few customers, mostly kids wagging school, haunting the shadows of the gloomy shelves and displays.

"It was kind of an emergency."

"Mike says you've been porking Lisa." It was half an accusation, half disbelief.

I shrugged. I figured I couldn't win if I denied it or not.

Gary shook his head. "That's real low. I thought we were mates."

I shrugged again. What could I say?

He unrolled a poster, a fully frontal naked Britney Spears and... er... friends. Gary pulled out a three-step ladder and pinned Britney and co to the wall. She drew immediate attention from the male customers.

Despite his mood, he couldn't help explaining his genius. "They don't notice the scratches when they're staring at that."

I nodded. It seemed bizarre that I had managed to disappoint Gary, the epitome of moral values. "Look, Gary, I know its bad-"

"Bad? You've broken the code of mateship."

"Yep." This wasn't going to get me anywhere. Maybe I needed to give Gary some time and space and think of some other way to outsmart my stalker.

"Yep? That's all you can say. It's about honesty, candor." He unrolled another poster. This one starred Katie Holmes, also completely naked ... in exactly the same pose...

"Aren't they the same... friends?"

He looked at the two posters (like he hadn't already stared at them for hours). "Yeah."

"Someone's just cut and paste their heads into the same photo."

Gary finally grinned. "Good eh?"

"Just great." Like putting Cadbury wrappers on homebrand chocolate.

Gary swayed over then and fixed me with an accusational finger and a baleful stare. "Next time you do the dirty deed, you better tell me - or your mateship is rescinded."

I blew a long releasing breath. "Sheez. I thought you'd gone all moral on me."

Gary held up his hand. "I'm not saying that it's ok or that I condone it. I'm just saying, you should have told me. Now spill. I need details." He curled his fingers like I was going to give him a wad of cash.

"I'm not giving you details."

Gary shrugged. "Ok." He walked away and pinned Katie to the right of the cash register. "So how's your girlfriend?"

"Huh?"

"She comes here all the time."

"What?"

"Nina?"

"Why does she come in here?"

Gary smiled, huffing on his finger nails. "Why wouldn't she?"

My fingers grasped the glass counter with unnatural tenacity. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I guess it must get tricky, with Lisa I mean."

A kid, maybe fifteen judging by the pimple farm around his chin stopped a foot away from the counter and jerked his head at the Britney poster. "How much?"

Gary turned around like he was gazing at the Mona Lisa and shook his head. "Sorry mate. It's my last one. A classic. It's not for sale." He turned back to me. "And it means what it means."

"You sure?" asked the kid, fumbling his surf wallet.

Gary stepped back to pimples and made another show of admiring the fine artistry on his wall. "You a fan of hers?"

"A-ha," mumbled pimples while staring at the fake jugs that weren't even Britney's.

I shook my head. It was a shame for Gary to waste his swindling talents on such mundane tasks. I had a real challenge for him.

"How about I let you have it for twenty five dollars, if you agree not to tell anyone where you got it."

"Why can't I tell anyone?" asked the kid.

I wondered too.

"Because I don't want all your mates showing up here asking for the Britney classic when I don't have any to sell. I'm busy ya know."

"Oh. I'll give you twenty dollars."

Gary reeled back - apparently aghast. "I'm trying to do you a favour here and you want to bargain with me?"

The kid blushed. "I've only got twenty dollars."

Gary lost his offence and unpinned Britney.

"You know it's a fake, don't you?" I asked pimples.

"Huh?"

"The poster." I pointed at Katie. "Look at that one. It's the same, just a different head."

He bit his lip, then shrugged. I guessed he figured it was still a naked woman, and her friends, and it was less embarrassing than trying to buy a magazine.

Gary rolled up the poster and slapped a rubber band around it. He shot me a glare. "There you go, twenty dollars," he said shoving it at the kid.

"And it's not a classic. He's got a whole box of them down there. " I pointed to the open carton.

Pimple's jaw dropped and he stared up at Gary in disbelief.

Gary shrugged and flashed him a naughty school boy grin. "Five bucks?"

The kid nodded and smiled.

What did he care. He was still getting boobs.

Only Gary had that unknown something that made people forgive him just about anything.

Pimples grabbed his tasteful art and hot legged it out of the shop.

"What the hell was that? asked Gary. "He was primed. He was gonna run home and tell his friends all about his secret deal and they were all gonna come in one by one and make their own secret deals."

It was my turn to smile. "You're gonna tell me everything I want to know about Nina and then you're gonna help me with a problem."

Gary leant against the now vacant wall. "Yeah right."

"Or I'm going to stay right here. All day."

Gary grinned. "That wasn't bad."

I nodded. "I liked it."

Fifty Nine

Intermission

2005-03-30T09:42:00.000+10:00

Unfortunately Des has had some serious PC issues and is off line. In addition Des is moving house and may not be on line for a couple of weeks. Subscribers will be notified as asoon as Des reappears to conclude his first novel length adventure. Apologies for the inconvenience.

Fifty Seven

2005-03-21T09:58:00.000+10:00

I made a mental note to remember Nina's line if I ever needed a conversation killer. I was fully expecting Nathan to retort with "don't have a cow, Nina," but fortunately he didn't. He rearranged his toy steering wheel and slunked away.

"Well..." I said into the uncomfortable void. "I have to get to work." Nathan had unwittingly saved me from Mrs Bakon's final verdict and I had no intention of staying long enough for her to regain her composure. "Walk me out, Nina?"

Nina needed no encouargement to escape, as she gazed longingly at the sanctuary beyond the front door.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs Bakon."

She stared at where Nathan had been, her forehead furrowed in thought.

Nina and I tip toed away.

"Des," said Mrs B.

I turned back to see that Mrs B had recovered the use of her hunter's stare. She folded her arms. "Come back soon. We'll finish our little chat."

"Of course," I lied. I'd rather rub my balls with sandpaper.

Nina wasted no time when we were safely outside. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call first?"

I shrugged. "I wanted to see you."

She flashed her perfectly aligned teeth. The arm ripping throat stuffing vixen suddenly gone. "You did?"

It was true. I did want to see her. Sure I wanted to check out her father and find out who she had told about us, but besides all that, I was keen to see her again. I nodded.

She looked away, her face flushing. "That's sweet."

"I know."

"But I wish you had called. Mum can be er difficult."

"But she seems so accepting..."

She hit me. I could see there would come a point in our relationship when I would have to admit to feeling to pain. "I was wondering... are we telling everyone about.. you know, us yet?" We walked down the driveway as we talked.

Nina flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "Well, we've told our parents and they're supposed to be the last people to know."

"Right. So you've already told other people then?"

"Only Lisa. I don't really have anyone else to tell."

That limited my stalker suspects. Her father Kevin had genuinely seemd to know nothing of my existence before this morning, unless he was an Academy award deserving actor. Yet from the glimpse I saw, his main focus in life was avoiding his wife rather than worrying about what Nina was doing.

The same went for Mrs B, and she had no interest in me being good to her daughter, she clearly wanted me gone. Nathan, was interesting. It was definitely possible that he'd look out for his sister in a some kind of sick and twisted way, yet the focus on morals didn't seem likely.

My thoughts turned to Lisa. Besides a hot hoe, she had proven to be a schemer, sly and clever. I remember hiding in her spare room and eaves dropping on her conversation with Mike. How I'd almost tripped over a laptop. Hhhmmmm.... But again, the morality thing - it was her I'd been kind of cheating with...

"Hello!?" said Nina.

I blinked and realised we'd reached my car.

"What time are you finishing work?"

"Um, not sure. It depends how much filth I encounter." I'd only be a few hours, but it was time to bring Gary into the mix. He'd have some twisted way of looking at this that might uncover some sense and I wanted to drop by his shop after cleaning. "Call you later?"

"Sure," said Nina, a little disappointed.

It was only natural.

http://confessionblog.blogspot.com/2005/05/fifty-eight.html

Fifty Six

2005-03-18T08:19:00.000+10:00

I don't know what you'd call the area. The kitchen family and dining room sprawled beyond the carpeted zone where we sat on opposing leather couches. It was bright and airy courtesy of huge windows in each room that allowed a view of the kidney shaped pool, the spa and a palm garden. I guessed this was a "greeting area" where they could seat guests they really didn't want in their house.

Mrs Bakon sat on the edge of her sofa, facing Nina and I. She took considerable time arranging the folds of her dress before looking to me.

I did my best to smile.

She didn't. Instead, she placed her hands precisely in her lap and leant a little forward to accentuate her hawkish stare. "Tell me about yourself, Des."

Now that's just an unfair question. I hate it. Even in job interviews I never know what to say. I mean I can't honestly say what I'm like, can I? I shuffled uncomfortably. I didn't want to start with my job. "Well... I grew up locally."

"Oh, so you went to City Boy's Grammar?"

"Er. No. I went to the State High School."

Mrs Bakon's face remained completely immobilised except for a rapid blink. "Quite," she said.

I eased out a breath. "My Dad was an engineer."

She nodded, at least that seemed acceptable. "And your mother ran the home?"

"Um, yes. She also worked at the council."

Mrs Bakon swallowed. "I see. Sounds very middle class."

I shrugged. We lived where we lived. We did what we did. For some odd reason I felt pretty mellow about that. I expected a one liner to pop into my head, but it didn't. Maybe that meant I was comfortable with one part of my life. I didn't need to defend it.

Mrs Bakon unnecessarily straightened her dress again and shot a glance at Nina.

Nina took my hand. "Des has been very kind to me, mother. He listened to my problems, he cares about his friends and he tries to help them when they're in trouble. He works hard and he's very creative. He makes me laugh and I really like him."

I figured it was a pre-emptive strike, but I gawked at her all the same. That almost none of it was true didn't matter. That she believed it, well, it blew me away. I would have done something, I dunno, hugged her maybe. But Mrs B wasn't really conducive to sharing. I squeezed Nina's hand instead. She returned it while maintaining her hold on her mother's gaze.

Mrs B unleashed my final sentence without a word. She used a far more insidious device than language: the obviously fake smile. We all fake smile sometimes, but the obviously fake smile says - I hate you so mcuh I'm going to throw you a smile you know is fake - so that you know I can't even be bothered to fake pleasantness in your presence.

Now the heat started to fire in my belly. Nina believed in me, she at least should have the decency to consider her daughter's judgement.

Mrs B spoke first. "Des. I'm sure a nice young man, but-"

The front door burst open. "Some freakin' loser has parked a shit heap across the drive! I almost freakin' hit it!" I caught bedhead blonde hair, an arm tattoo, ripped t-shirt and whoever it was clutched what could have been a Playstation steering wheel and pedals. He slammed the door behind him. He didn't seem to be addressing anyone in particular and was startled when Mrs B replied.

"Nathan! Have you been out all night?!"

He fumbled his steering wheel but recovered quickly. "So," he replied taking us in. "Rich's place is networked, not like this dogbox."

I nodded. A richboy gamehead. Hello Nina's brother.

"We-will-talk-about-this-later," said Mrs B. I could almost here her teeth grinding.

"What-ev-er," he replied, showing off his tongue stud. His gaze flickered from his mother to Nina and then to me.

Nina dropped my hand, but it was too late, Nathan had seen it. He pointed at me, a greasy smirk covering his face. "No way."

I stood up. Mrs Bakon had already fired my blood and geek boy was increasing the flowrate.

"You must be sweet Dessy."

I frowned. "I'm the pleb with the heap outside."

He stared at Nina and clutched his steering wheel to his chest. "Oh sweet Dessy. How I love you so."

"Shut up Nathan!" screamed Nina.

"Why? Doesn't Dessy know?"

"Nathan," said Mrs B, also getting to her feet.

He pointed at Nina. "I've heard you sissy. Didn't think I'd hear through the wall? Oh Dessy will be mine..." He stopped his swinging around pointed at me again. "Have you done her yet?"

"What!?"

"You better not. She's my sister."

"Nathan!" shouted Mrs B.

Nina shreiked. "I will rip your arms freakin' off and shove them down your throat!"

Everyone fell silent and stared at her.

Fifty Seven

Fifty Five

2005-03-16T16:30:00.000+10:00

So Kevin was sly, and adept at escaping from his wife. Oh I could see his tongue hanging out for Lisa, but he didn't really strike me as the bacon boy christener. I still needed to talk to Nina and find out who she had told about our... relationship. Sheez, that still sounded weird, even to me.

But first I had to deal with her mother, Rachael.

She swanned along her mezzanine, her hand draped over the ballastrade and her dress billowing behind. She averted her eyes from us as she glided down the curved staircase and her eyes didn't flicker into in my direction until she stopped barely a foot in front of me.

When she did look at me I wished she hadn't. I'd seen friendlier eyes in the skulls of eagles.

This was going to be tough.

She arched an eyebrow and shifted her hunter's gaze to Nina, no doubt for an explanation of the offending baggage in her mansion foyer. I suddenly sympathised with Kevin's plight.

To her great credit, Nina didn't flinch. I guess she'd had years to get used to her mother's withering stare. "Mother, this is Des, my boyfriend."

I crossed my legs, just in case - awkward to do while standing - but less awkward than a potential spillage.

"Really," she replied in a bored tone.

I swallowed and thought I'd give it a spin. I stuck my hand out confidently. "Hello, Mrs..." Shyte! I didn't even know Nina's last name! "...er...Mrs..."

"Bakon," whispered Nina.

"Bacon!?" I exclaimed.

"Back-on," corrected Rachael. Her eyes narrowed. "Well I can see you know each other intimately."

Damn it. My face reddened.

"Where's your father, Nina?"

Nina shuffled her feet. "He had an appointment."

"Of course he did. And your brother?"

Her brother. Bakon... bacon. Surely it was too much of a coincidence...

"I don't know," replied Nina, throwing me a stare to rival her mother's.

Mrs Bakon huffed slightly. "Come with me." She stalked toward a large carpeted area underneath the mezzanine.

Nina followed a few paces behind.

I was lost in thought. Nina's brother. It fitted. He might be over protective knowing what happened to Nina last time she had a boyfriend. She could have followed Nina to find out where I lived...

"Both of you," snapped Mrs Bakon.

"Oh, yes... sorry." I followed Nina wondering exactly how Mrs Bakon was going to run me off.

Fifty Six

Fifty Four

2005-03-15T07:24:00.000+10:00

The guy staring at me wasn't the John Farnham, he was more like a rubberised version but with the eighties hair. "Yeah?"

"Um, Hi. My name's Des. Is Nina home?"

His scowl deepened. He took a step back, pushing the door to as he yelled out, "Nina!"

Nice to meet you too. I stood outside the double doors tapping my feet until Nina's head eventually appeared.

"Des?"

"Surprise." I acted liked she should be happy to see me.

Retro Farnham's head appeared above Nina's. "And who is Des?"

"Um... Dad, meet Des. Des, this is my Dad."

I nodded and faked a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Des is my boyfriend."

I let my unshaken hand drop as the door flew open.

"Boyfriend?" demanded Nina's father. He looked at me like I had just dropped in his yard from outer space.

"Yes," replied Nina, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Des Perrat." I added. There's nothing like a warm welcome.

Nina's father didn't even look at me. "This is your boyfriend."

I'm right here.

Nina nodded.

Rubber Farnham shook his head. He looked me up and down, then rubbed his chin.

I figured it was going to be a close call between running me off right now, or waiting until he had a weapon. I had little choice but to stand and wait while he made up his mind. I'm sure Nina was thinking the same thing. My whole plan lay in the balance and there was nothing I could do to swing it my way.

He let out a long sigh through billowing cheeks. I was pretty sure I could see the steam building behind his eyes. He shook his head again. "Does your mother know about this?" he demanded.

"No," replied Nina.

"Well she is going to..." his voice trailed away. He looked past me and up the driveway to where my car was parked. "That's your car?"

I nodded. That was it, in all it's untrimmed, dented and paint faded glory. I wasn't even going to get inside.

"Do you work?"

He was working through his checklist. I obviously have no money. I have virtually no potential for earning money. It was my turn to sigh. "I'm a cleaner."

Johnny's frown lifted. "Offices, shops, that sort of thing?"

I put my hands in my pockets. "Domestic."

"Really?"

"Yep." I hadn't even made it through the door. Well it was nice knowing you Nina.

She looked at me, giving me that 'do something' look, but what could I do? I guess I could spin some crap about my prospects, my dreams, all the stuff that would never happen to me, but to be honest, I just didn't feel the fight. This is me. I'm Des Perrat. I clean houses. I have a girlfriend and a bomby car. That's the way it is and I couldn't give a stuff if John Farnham wannabe thought that was unacceptable or not.

"And how old are you Des?"

The final nail in my coffin. I still didn't know how old Nina was. "Twenty six."I waited patiently, there was no hurry for the exceution to begin.

He grabbed my shoulder. "Perfect," he said excitedly.

"Huh?" Nina and I uttered in unison.

"Come in Des, come in. And call me Kevin." He ushered me through the front doors and into a huge lobby area with stairs arching up both sides to the second level.

"Rachael?!" he called.

A voice answered from somewhere upstairs. "Don't you think we've finished this Kevin. You get right back up here-"

"We have a visitor. Someone you've just got to meet!"

Silence.

I snuck a glance at Nina. Here eyebrows were wrinkled in annoyance but whether because of me or her father I wasn't sure.

"Just a minute," came the suddenly cheerful voice from above.

"Now kids" - Kevin put his arms around our shoulders - "I'd love to stay and chat, but unfortunately I've got an early tee off."

Respect. Here was a fellow schemer. He was good. Good enough to be financing Lisa? Definitely.

He cocked a finger at me like I was his gunnery buddy, grabbed his car keys from a nearby table and disappeared around one of the many hallways.

"Kevin?" called the approaching voice from above.

I braced myself for round two.

Fifty Five

Announement

2005-03-07T10:37:00.000+10:00

[Out of Character Announcement

My apologies to regular readers for not adding entries over the last few weeks. I've been busy and have had some personal issues to deal with. But Des will be back soon.]

Fifty Three

2005-02-21T07:55:00.000+10:00

I put down the receiver, picked it up and then put it down again.

I decided ringing Nina wasn't such a good idea. I needed to be more subtle - play the game like WPP was. I needed reinforcements. When it came to lying, deflecting blame and general dishonesty, I had no peer. But when it came to dodginess and underworld related activity, Gary was the man.

Before I roped in Gary, I needed more info. And I figured the best way to get it would be a surprise visit to Nina, say in the early morning when her parents would just happen to be home. I know, it's breaking my cardinal rule about mother's, but it's a risk I had to take - I had to see Mr Walk-with-a-purpose for myself.

I had to get up early anyway, since it was Paula's cleaning day. Nina's place wasn't too far out of my way.

I rang the doorbell and stood back from the double doors wondering how this play was going to change my life. Every decision I'd made in the last couple of weeks had reverberated with unseen long lasting repercussions so I didn't see why this one would be any different.

Quick, self important polished leather footsteps echoed on tiles before the door swung in. I swear John Farnham scowled at me.

Fifty Four

Fifty Two

2005-02-17T08:40:00.000+10:00

I booted my pirate copy of Windows three times before it loaded error free. My ISP was on crawl mode. The smell of salted pig feet had permeated my whole unit and I stared at the blank screen trying not to think of ham. Finally my blog loaded.

It'd been a while since my last blog entry. That fact reinforced again the affect these women were having on my life, such as it was. I had a routine, fantasies and I had safety.

I clicked on the two new comments.

I can be tough on the internet and off it. Say, Bacon Boy, I've got an idea. Something I'm sure you'll like. I'm going to be your instructor, Des. Your guru. As your guru, I have a gift for you. Think of it as a token of my sincerity. I will guide you away from your valueless ways. There is pain in growth, how much you incur, depends your worth as a student.

I am a forgiving teacher. There are only two rules you must never break. Don't hurt Nina. Not in any way. Not ever. That would be a deal breaker. You don't want to break this deal, bacon boy.
Anon.

I read it twice, once in a hurried frenzy, and then again to make sure I had read it right. I rubbed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. What the hell? I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to think.

They knew my name and my address. They'd been to my house. They wanted to protect Nina in some psychotic way. If it wasn't someone I had told, then it must be someone Nina had told. All I had to do was ask her who she had talked to about us. Maybe it was her brother or... yes... her father! Kevin - the Kevin that might be screwing Lisa. Maybe that was it - eliminating me and Mike... it made sense. Well sort of. It was all I had to go on anyway.

I couldn't show Nina my blog - it was too incriminating of my own deviantness. But I figured I didn't need to. Not yet anyway. Resolved to ring Nina, I scrolled down to check the second comment.

Did you like your present? I liked the symbolism. Did you get it Bacon Boy?

You can't run without feet. See? You can't run from me.

Do you want to know the second rule?

You must never speak to Nina about our arrangment. That includes ever speaking about or showing her this blog. And before you wonder, yes, I would know.

I shivered. Literally. I mean, I've read the cliched line - "a shiver ran down my spine" too many times to count, but I've never actually understood it before. I looked around the walls and ceilings for a spy hole or maybe a tiny camera. Yeah it sound fanciful, but how else could they be so sure to know what I was up to?

I didn't find anything but cobwebs.

After ten minutes of frantic deliberation I picked up the phone.

Fifty Three

Fifty One

2005-02-15T08:24:00.000+10:00

Bummed doesn't really cover it. I was thinking of a rain metaphor, or maybe using that phenomenon in Sweden where half the population gets depressed by the perpetual dark in winter. What I'm trying to say is, I was feeling like it was 3am on a sleepless night and it didn't seem dawn would ever break again.

Nina supported the uneaten half of Mum's apple pie on her lap as I drove her home. I was contemplating Mum's words along with all the other random shyte that was spinning out of control in my life. I guess Mum's sharpness woke me to the bizarre and unplanned state of my relationship with Nina. She was my girlfriend. I was her boyfriend. We had a relationship. Five hours and growing. I wound the window down for some air.

Besides me, Nina and the bag-dress mystery, there was the slight matter of weird pig person and the trotter delivery. How did WPP know where I lived? How did they know me at all? Why were they so concerned about Nina? I tried to think of who knew Nina and me. The list was short - Lisa, Mike, sort of Gary... that was it. Mike and Gary had no reason to be overly concerned about Nina, and Lisa hadn't shown any compunction about sliding her hot ass in between us. I shook my head. It didn't make sense.

'You've been quiet,' said Nina.

'Yeah.' I turned into Nina's tree-lined street.

'Do you want out?' she asked.

I stared across at her but couldn't see much of her face in the shadows.

'I mean... it was pretty quick,' she added.

I pulled up outside her house. 'Um, no.'

'I'd understand.'

'No, I just have a lot going on... in my head.'

'Ok then. See you tomorrow?' She unbuckled her seatbelt.

'Um, I'm working in the morning.' Paula and her flatmate - my second last clients.

'Ok. Well, call me.' Her hand hesitated on the door handle.

I was suddenly overcome with indecision. She was my girlfriend, should I do something? Kiss her good night? I mean, we'd never even held hands. I wondered again about the contents of the bag-dress. I leaned over uncertainly, thinking I might kiss her cheek, but I'd delayed too long and the interior light flashed on as she opened the door.

'Um, see you later then,' I said feeling lame.

'Bye.'

I hurried home. I figured Weird Pig Person would be crowing about their delivery on my blog. Maybe they'd left a clue about who they were.

Fifty Two

Fifty

2005-02-09T08:43:00.000+10:00

It was times like this I wished Mum and Dad didn't speak. Isn't the point of divorce that you don't have to see the other person anymore?

Meme stalked into the kitchen with a smug look of satisfaction on his face. I figured he'd probably crapped on my old bed again.

'Oh, isn't he cute,' cooed Nina. She bent down to stroke him. He purred and rubbed his face against her knees.

'He's been much better since I've been putting parafin oil on his food. It's an old trick, but a good one. Poor thing doesn't hunch over and strain so much. I so hated to watch him struggle with his poo.'

Just the subject I wanted to hear about as Mum baked.

'He's gorgeous,' said Nina.

'Why did you watch him then?' I asked.

Mum ignored me and paused from her apple coring. 'He certainly seems to like you,' she said. 'He's a good judge of character.'

Yeah right - he's the black knight re-incarnated but Mum won't accept it.

'Never really taken to you has he, Des dear?'

Meme looked up at me, his eyes half closed as Nina scratched his ear. I swear he was smirking.

'Taken to me? The vicious little... he hates me.'

'Well he seems to have a new best friend now,' said Mum.

As much as I detested TBK, the little prick had outsmarted himself this time. Anyone in with Mum's cat, was in with Mum. I smiled back at the little minx.

'There's only one thing he loves more than that, Nina, and that's a brush. Would you like to give him one?'

'Ok.'

Mum wiped her hands on her apron, fetched Meme's brushes and took Nina out onto the back verandah. When she returned she fixed me with a stare the likes of which I hadn't seen since I accidentally on purpose lost my new bright-yellow oil skin raincoat at primary school.

'She seems very nice.' She said it accusingly.

I frowned. 'She is. I thought that'd be a good thing.'

'Well,' said Mum planting her fists on her hips, 'that rather depends on what you're up to doesn't it? Now you're father said you were too busy to speak to him - that you had a bit of crumpet with you.'

'Mum-' I sounded twelve again.

She held up her finger and my whine ceased. I suddenly thought of TBK. He knew exactly what he was doing. That freakin' little devil got me again...

'I was talking to Mike's mother yesterday. It seems Mike is very upset about his girlfriend - that nasty little piece of skirt, Lisa. Well? I'm not stupid, Des?'

I scuffed my feet on the lino.

'Des. Look-at-me.'

I dragged my gaze off the floor and hung my head dejectedly.

'Oh Des.' She stamped her foot. 'You're just like your father. He could never keep it in his pants either.'

'Ew! Mum!'

'Shut-up.'

I stared at the finger poised inches from my nose. 'You were raised to know better, Des. Now I don't know what goes through that decrepid mind of yours, but I'm telling you this. She...' Mum pointed to the sliding door, '...doesn't deserve... that kind of thing.'

'But I haven't done anything... not to her.' What was with Nina? She had a security team everywhere.

I stood awkwardly for a while. Mum, apparently having said her piece returned to her apples.

The door slid open and Nina returned carrying the purring son of evil.

'Ah,' said Mum. 'You're just in time to help me with the pastry.'

TBK yawned and licked his lips. He fixed me with one eye and smiled.

Fifty One

Forty Nine

2005-02-08T09:06:00.000+10:00

Although I had moved out of home a fair while ago, I was still in that phase where it felt awkward to knock on Mum's door but rude to walk straight in. Nina shuffled behind me as we waited for the door to open. Just like on the first day we had met on the golf course, I fought down the impulse to comment on the unlikelihood of getting bitten by a stranger. I just don't understand where the need to say that line comes from.

I wondered how Mum would react to Nina. It'd be a polar reaction at either end of the scale: over excitement or complete disinterest. Mum was funny like that, but I guess we all are in our own ways. At least they had the polar thing in common, well kind of.

'Maybe she's not home?' offered Nina as no signs of life came from the house. There was more than a little hope in her voice.

I had to agree it'd be an easy let off. I could say, "I came to see you Mum, but you weren't there... what a shame... I even brought Nina." But I knew better than that. Besides, Mum was never out. 'She'll be home,' I said quietly.

Three deadlocks and a safety chain clicked and jangled before the door swung in.

'Des, dear. What a nice surprise. You didn't tell me you were coming to see me. I would have baked. I could have made cake, or apple pie. I know how much you love your apple pie. I could make it now. Oh but I don't have enough butter. I've got marg though. Oh I wish you'd have called. I always ask you to but you seem to like to pop up out of nowhere. God knows what you get up to. You never tell me anything. Marg would be ok. And I've got copha and some apples. Who's this?'

Mum doesn't need a participant in a conversation so much as presence to absorb her sound.

'Hey Mum. This is Nina.'

I tried to step out of the way so Mum could see Nina, but Nina stepped at the same time and we did this awkward dance thing for a while feeling more foolish with every step.

'Hi,' said Nina when she finally got line of sight.

'Hello, replied Mum, flicking her eyes over Nina and planting me with a gaze of pure suspicion. 'Well, come on in.'

Nina flashed me a questioning or perhaps imploring stare and we followed Mum inside.

When I call Mum's place fogeyville, I don't mean that to be mean. But you know: doylies, masses of ornaments, dark wood furniture, paisley patterns, black and white photographs, a general clutter but pristinely clean. It's cute and it suits Mum's generation.

'So who's this Nina then?'

I winced. "This" in front of anyone's name is not a good sign. 'Er, Nina is right here, Mum.' Please don't embarrass me. 'And she's my...' it felt awkward to say, '...she's my girlfriend.' Nina and I shared a shy smile. I realised we hadn't so much as held hands yet.

'Is that so?' said Mum. She had her head in a cupboard and emerged with a mixing bowl and a rolling pin.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm baking, dear. Do try and pay attention. I'm making apple pie.' She filled a saucepan with water. '

'Mum really you don't need to. It'll take hours-'

'It's no bother.' Mum carried a pile of apples from the fridge and started to peel them.

'Can I help?' offered Nina.

Mum paused her peeling and turned to look at Nina. 'Do you bake, dear?'

'Um,' Nina shrunk back.

Mum pulled her lips tight in her fakest of smiles. 'I thought not. Probably best if I do it then. It's skill you know, learned through the generations. Every mother worth her salt has passed her knowledge onto her daughter. Even my mother managed it - though it was tough in her day, with the war. We didn't have luxuries like butter. Oh no. But still she managed to pass on her knowledge so that I would be an accomplished homemaker in my time, just like she was.'

Nina nodded apologetically.

I had no idea what had gotten into Mum - this was rude, even for her.

'I had a very interesting conversation with your father the other day,' continued Mum.

My stomach knotted. The other day... the day he came over and found freshly ravaged Lisa in my kitchen. Ut oh.

Fifty

Forty Eight

2005-02-04T08:09:00.000+10:00

Nina took the note from my hand. 'What does this mean?'

I swallowed. I wanted to run and check my blog but I couldn't with Nina with me. The package wasn't posted. Weird pig person had been to my house!

'Des?'

'Um... it'll be one of Gary's sick jokes.'

'A joke?' She pushed the box to the far end of the bench. 'That's sick alright.'

'Well, I warned you about him.' How the hell did pig person know where I lived?

'I bet he's into sci-fi. They're always weird.'

'SF.'

'What?'

'Er, nothing.'

Now what the hell was I going to do? Call the cops? What the hell is a bacon boy?

'You've got messages,' said Nina pointing to the machine and apparently over the whole dismembered animal thing.

'I'll get them later.'

'Secrets?'

She was only joking but I wasn't exactly in a humouress mood. My mobile rang just as I was about to crack a cutting reply.

'Yeah.'

'Des?'

'Yeah.'

'It's Amanda from the agency.'

'Yeah.'

'Er, I just wanted to let you know, all of your clients for the last two days have requested to stay with the fill-in cleaner.'

'What?' What was she talking about? I didn't have a full roster as it was.

'It's nothing personal, they just relate better to the substitute.'

'Relate better? I don't even see them most of the time. I clean while they're at work.'

Silence. I didn't have anything to add.

'Well, you still have the Deakins and Miss Blech.'

'Great.' Mr and Mrs cop. Paula was nice though.

'Well, have a nice evening.'

'It'll be just swell.' Thanks for nothing. I couldn't believe it. I know I'm a crap person, but I work hard.

'Something wrong?' asked Nina as I stabbed my mobile phone with a finger.

'Just about everything.'

'I should go.' She put her head down and marched for the garage.

'No, stay. Look, there may be more bad news on the answering machine. At least stay while I play them and see if I self detonate?' I was only half joking. Spontaneous combustion seemed a distinct possibility.

Nina was doubtful, but she stayed.

I pushed play. What else could go wrong?

'Des, this is your mother.'

'Just in case I didn't recognise her voice,' I explained to Nina.

She smiled.

'You still haven't called me. And you definitely haven't come to see me. I'm very disappointed.'

I blew a long breath. I guess I should spend some time with her.

'She sounds lonely,' said Nina after the machine beeped.

'Yeah. I guess she is.'

She leant on the bench, not porn style like Lisa, but just because she was getting tired of standing. 'Your parents don't live together?'

'No. They're divorced.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' I said. 'They actually speak more often this way.'

'Are you going to see her?'

'Yeah.' Why not? I needed a break from pigs, Lisa and my otherwise suckful life. 'You wanna come?' I wasn't planning on asking her - it just popped out.

She reddened. 'To see your Mum?'

I suddenly realised how thrilling that must sound. 'Well yeah - but we could do stuff on the way - or on the way back - um - .'

'You mean as if I'm your girlfriend?' Hope radiated all over her face.

My brain missed a gear. I guess it could have somehow been construed that way. Sheez, I hadn't had a real girlfriend since Michelle, and we had kept that secret on account of her not being overly attractive and me wanting to trade up to her sister. But then I remember once asking Lousie MacKenzie to "go" with me. (Somehow going out or going steady had been shortened to just go.) She was very pretty but most of the guys overlooked her for a reason I never found out. Maybe they just assumed they didn't stand a chance. I figured the odds were in my favour so I had a go. Besides, I really really liked her.

She turned me down flat. I faked illness for three days before I could face the shame of seeing her again. I like to think it was that memory that prompted my reply, rather than the threats from weird pig person and presence of fresh trotters in my kitchen.

'Er, sure... if-'

'Ok.'

'Ok?'

'Ok. I'll be your girlfriend.' Nina nodded as if that settled the matter.

OK. That was weird. I had a girlfriend. Really weird. Weird or not, I couldn't help smiling like an idiot. 'I thought you weren't ready for something?'

'This isn't something,' she said walking closer. 'This is a relationship.'

Surprisingly that didn't scare me until later. I guess I was too stunned to care. And it had the immediate upside that it would definitely spin Mum's wheels. Maybe she'd have better luck detecting the contents of the bag-dresses. I smiled when I thought about how shocked Lisa would be that I was already leaving her behind. 'Well, let's go, girlfriend.'

Forty Nine

Forty Seven

2005-02-01T10:45:00.000+10:00

I was pretty hacked off after leaving Lisa's. I knew she was probably role playing for Mike's benefit, making out something was nothing to let him down easy... but that crap about Kevin...

I went to the beach. Unusual for me these days as I'm not a nature freak: it's nice that it' s there, but let's not get all green about it. It was the same beach I'd walked along with Nina. The same beach I'd fished on (unsuccessfully) after school, the same beach I'd snogged Michelle Lorex on and the same beach I'd tried to snog her sister on. I guess we'd built a history, me and the beach. An unwilling partnership forged as a teenager who needed somewhere to go to escape the tensions of home and a beach unable to stop anyone walking over its face.

I would have hung out at the shops more but there was a huge psycho from another school who used to beat up anyone from my school for no apparent reason. I couldn't even remember his name now. I wondered what a psychopathic bully did when he grew up. I bet he didn't clean toilets.

I meandered my way home after reminiscing depressed me further. I figured I'd blog out my woes and eat junk food until I felt sick.

I wasn't in the mood for company so I was kind of peeved to see Nina sitting against the garage wall. There was some sort of package next to her which was doubly annoying - now I'd have to be nice to her to find out what it was.

'Hi,' she said, after I 'd parked. She turned her familiar red.

'Hey,' I answered without enthusiasm. It was nothing personal, I would have been pleased to see her normally - I guess I just didn't need any extra guilt at the time.

Seeing the deflated slump of her shoulders I tried to up my game. 'What have you got there?'

'Oh. Dunno. It was by the door.' She handed the brown-paper wrapped parcel to me. There was no name, address or postage on it.

'You wanna come in?'

She shook her head. 'Oh, maybe I shouldn't.'

'Nah, please. I'm just a bit down. Company would be nice.'

We went through the garage and I put the package on the kitchen bench. I got us some cold water and Nina shocked me by speaking without me prompting her.

'I hope you don't mind. Dad's home this afternoon and I just had to get away. He's going through this mid-life crisis thing. Dyed his hair, bought a sports car. He's got this thing about energy and yings and yangs.'

I nodded in sympathy. 'Sounds painful.'

She put her glass down. 'If he'd told me to walk with a purpose one more time today I...'

'Walk with a purpose?'

'Determination in your walk, is determination in your life.'

'Pft, and I thought my Dad had problems.'

She shared a smile about the common banality of parents. It encouraged Nina to elaborate. (Yeah, I was shocked.)

'His latest thing,' she said with a laugh, 'is he wants us -me and my brother - to think of him more as a friend than a parent. So we're supposed to use his name'

'Ew. It sound like a bad 90210 re-run with Jim and Cindy. '

'Yeah. I hear "call me Kevin" almost as often as "walk with a purpose"'.

My glass slipped in my hand forcing me to catch it. 'Your dad's name is Kevin?'

She got a little crease between her eyebrows. 'Yeah, why?'

I shook my head. 'Er, nothing.' Even I wouldn't do that... although in Year 12, Richard's mother was so-

'You ok?'

'Yeah. Yeah.' It was just a coincidence. It had to be.

She pointed at the parcel. 'Are you going to open it?'

'Sure.' I absently pulled some scissors out of a draw and cut the string and ripped off the paper. A plain cardboard box was sticky taped shut. I snipped the tape and peered inside.

A strong smell of salt wafted over us. I could see some thin plastic and a folded over piece of card. I took out the card and parted the plastic.

'Shit!'

'Ewww!' squealed Nina.

'What the hell- ?'

'What are they?'

I looked again. 'Pigs trotters.' Fresh too. It struck me how similar they looked to dog paws. I unfolded the card.

Still think you're a tough guy? I think you're my bacon boy.

Forty Eight

Forty Six

2005-01-31T10:19:00.000+10:00

The fourth step from the top groaned under my weight - despite my pink panther stealth walk. I froze.

Nothing happened.

The muffled murmur of voices continued to seep from under Lisa's door. I tiptoed onto the landing. Footsteps from Lisa's room stepped towards the door. I bounded for the spare room - the door was ajar enough for me to duck behind it. I stepped on some magazines, narrowly missing a suitcase, a laptop and a couple of tennis raquets spread along the wall in the otherwise empty room. The footsteps retreated away from Lisa's door and I figured one of them, probably Mike, was pacing.

I snuck back onto the landing and crept forward until their muffled voices became intelligible.

'Just leave it,' said Lisa.

'No. I don't understand. How can you just throw everything away?'

'You never will understand,' came Lisa's voice again. 'I have to do this.'

'You know what this makes you.' I could imagine the pain on Mike's face as his version of Lisa crumbled before the reality he now faced.

'A whore? A prostitute... a slapper?'

It went silent for a while. I chewed a fingernail wondering if I should retreat for cover or make a break for the stairs, but also trying to process her admission. She'd got so upset atme for asking... Another tangent enterd my mind. I mean it's kind of a compliment to score with a professional, but... surely, she wouldn't be so blatent. She'd have some sort of internal justification for it that allowed her to think of herself in some other way. She was being manipulated somehow by this guy, this sugar daddy. She had to be. Even I knew I was clutching at straws.

'You're better than that.' Mike's voice was cracked and soft; barely audible. I almost agreed outloud.

Then it struck me somehow. A respect for Mike. His heart being torn out and stamped on - his girlfriend telling him she's a cash deal and he... I choked up. I'd never realised he was so compassionate under his free-wheeling exterior.

'Only you think that,' replied Lisa almost as quietly.

I almost wanted them to get back together.

'If you expect me to believe this is just about money... then what about Des?' Mike's voice regained a hard edge as he spoke my name.

I inched forward. Yeah, what about me? Why get with a gong boy? Why did she come to me if Mike wasn't abusing her? There was something there... between us... there was...

Lisa scoffed. 'You can't be serious? What about him? There is nothing going on there.'

I was relieved, grateful and indignant all at the same time. Relieved she was trying to cover my arse, by extension of covering her own, but did she have to make it sound so inconceivable? But why admit she's pretty much a hooker and then deny me? Was it me she was protecting, or something else?

'I'm not smart. Never have been. Not much I can do about it. But I'm not a fool. I've seen the change in both of you.'

I heard a bed spring groan. 'Ok. OK. That wasn't supposed to happen. After Kevin... I knew you'd go nuts if I came home. I didn't know where to go. I just, I don't know why, I figured I'd cool down for a while, work things out. I didn't expect...'

'You didn't expect him to take advantage of you. To get you into bed while you were vulnerable. That lowlife snake...'

Hey, it wasn't like that-

'Shit Lisa!!' Something slammed. 'How could you? With Des? Of all the freaking people... Des?'

'I know,' said Lisa apologetically.

I stared at the door indignantly. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

'I'm done Mike. You, Des, everyone. I'm with Kevin. That's it.'

I'd heard enough. I scampered down the stairs not really caring if they heard me or not. This was bollocks. She was lying... she had to be.

Forty Seven

Forty Five

2005-01-31T09:55:00.000+10:00

Now what the hell was I supposed to do? I got off the bean bag, my stomach muscles were already tiring - besides, I've alway hated bean bags. I kicked it, just because...

I still had no answers! I thought about going upstairs. Lisa and Mike had broken up... but I had no idea where Lisa and I were now. Did I have the right to go up there? I figured not, since it was Lisa's place and she'd told me to go. I should respect their privacy. Besides, they had been in a reasonably long-term relationship, and if there was a chance of them salvaging something from it, I guessed I should give them that chance.

Thinking things through I took the only option left to me. I opened the garage roll-a-door, put my keys in the ignition and then snuck back up the stairs.

I know - you're telling my to leave them alone, quit while I'm behind, but be honest. You want me to go up there, don't you?

Forty Six

Forty Four

2005-01-31T09:13:00.000+10:00

Have you ever had the feeling of complete certainty, that this is the final moment before your world turns to hell? People talk of "that sinking feeling". I'd describe it more as... being shoved over the edge of a clifftop and tumbling into a nameless abyss, the express elevator to the Earth's core, or a bowel movement of unexpected violence. Whatever the description, this was my moment of pending doom.

I rushed down the stairs. By the last third of the descent I had a clear line of sight of the front door and Mike's face pressed up against the glass. Lisa retrieved her top from the floor and threw it on. We froze briefly when I reached the lounge, both of us uncertain what the coming storm would bring.

Another thump on the door jolted us to movement. Lisa took a steadying breath and reached for the doorknob. I dived for a beanbag and squelched around desperately trying to find a casual and innocent sitting position. The stupidity of my endeavour dawned as Lisa turned the doorknob - I had just elephant-run down the stairs...

The door flew open from Mike's pressure. Lisa took several unsteady steps back to avoid being sprayed over the carpet.

Mike gaped at Lisa and then me - sprawled over the bean bag with legs crossed at the ankles and one arm behind my head - then back to Lisa. He seemed uncertain who to rage at first. 'Cosey,' he spluttered between seething breaths.

'Not too keen on vinyl really...' I guessed that wasn't what he meant.

Mike stalked about the lower level of the unit, glancing at the kitchen and then disappearing down the hallway to the laundry. I'm not sure why - maybe hunting for evidence of lude acts. Lisa and I swapped worried glances. The door to the garage squeaked open and Mike reappeared, pointing in the garage direction. 'Planning on staying a while?' he demanded.

I shook my head, staying ensconsed over the beanbag, figuring I was less likely to get cl0bbered while sitting down. 'It's hot, the door was open. Shade...'

I thought he was going to spit, but instead he stared at Lisa, his brow knotting into an interesting geographical formation. 'I bet that's not all that was open. Was it?'

If my heart wasn't jack-hammering its way out of my ribcage I would have been impressed. Mike's not usually one for comebacks.

Lisa held his gaze and didn't back down - it reminded me of how she'd stared down Dad- fearless, with no shame. 'Why bother asking? You've already decided.'

Mike didn't reply, instead he vaulted up the staircase three steps at a time. We heard his footsteps pounding around upstairs, first into the back bedroom, then pausing at the front one. I guessed he'd found a rumpled doona where Lisa had leapt off the bed in anger. It wouldn't look good.

'It's not what it looks like!' I called.

He didn't answer. The explosion of footsteps I expected to come flying down the stairs didn't come.

'I'm going to talk to him,' said Lisa.

I wanted to object but didn't know what to say.

'You should go,' she said. Her feet disappeared from view as she climbed the stairs.

Forty Five

Forty Three

2005-01-29T09:14:00.000+10:00

Lisa's place turned out to be a townhouse in one of the many anonymous complexes that had sprung up in the burbs. The complex security gate was open so I bypassed the intercom and searched the rows of white two story apartments sporting ugly aqua bands around their waists for number thirty eight. Single garages poked out from the front of each apartment and a tiny paved driveway led to the thin access roads.

A couple of cars pottered past in the other direction but it seemed a pretty quiet complex, and for all its conformity, it had the appeal of cleaniless that only new developments possess. I took a couple of wrong turns before finding the right laneway. I spied a pool and a tennis court on one of my unplanned detours. Mike's sugar daddy theory was starting to sound pretty accurate.

Thirty two, thirty four, thirty six... thirty eight. Lisa was in the garage with the door open. She was walking towards her unit. She swung around at the sound of my car pulling into her drive. She seemed surprised and then surprised again when she saw it was me. She walked towards me, gave the road a quick stare and then waved me to park in the shade inside.

I shook my head to indicate I was fine on the drive, but she waved again and I eased forward. She pulled the garage door down after me. 'I didn't expect to see you so soon. Eager?'

'Nice place,' I said after shutting the car door.

'Want the tour?'

'Sure.' She squeezed passed me with a come-on grin and led the way into a short hallway that connected the living area to the laundry and a downstairs toilet. I followed, struggling to work out exactly where to start my questioning and how to approach... things.

Downstairs was a pretty typical set up with a dining area, lounge and a nice kitchen with fancy tiles and inset overhead lighting. The only furniture so far was a couple of bean bags and a portable TV. The starkness invited echoes and an overall feeling of a somewhat impersonal loneliness.

I nodded and grunted the odd agreement as she pointed features like the tiny but neatly manicured back garden beyond the dining room. My anger had dissipated into uncertainty and being in private with Lisa in a new place was starting to scramble my priorities. I couldn't help remember the last time we were alone. I was staring at the kitchen bench, lude ideas swamping my mind when Lisa brought me back to reality.

'How was Mike? I thought you'd stay with him for longer.' She tried to asked innocently, but doubt flickered around her eyes.

'Mike's about as messed up as I've ever seen him.'

Lisa nodded and sucked her lips. 'I'm sorry,' she said softly.

I was pretty sure she meant it. 'He's worried about you.'

'He does that.'

It was my turn to nod. Here goes nothing. 'He was wondering how you could afford your own place... whether you would be alright.'

Lisa walked past me, swaying her butt in the way I loved so much until she leant against the window frame and looked out at the mini garden. For a fraction of a second I wondered whether she had deliberately swayed like that, but on reflection, I didn't think so. She seemed kind of pensive as she stood there with her arms crossed. 'Mike was wondering. And what about you?'

I was saved from answering by the polyphonic version of "Addicted to Love". I answered my mobile.

'Is this one of your freakin jokes?' demanded Gary. ''Cause it's not funny. I'm losing sales for nothing.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Mike. He's not here. So why am I?'

Damn. 'It's not a joke. I thought he'd be there.'

'Yeah well he's not. I've got to go to work.'

'Ok, well, thanks anyway.'

Gary grunted and hung up.

Lisa had sauntered back to me while I was on the phone. She stood barely three inches away. Her top, was like a polo shirt but sculptured onto her curves with perfection. She undid the last of three buttons that paved a trail from her neck to her chest. 'A problem?' she asked, her eyebrow arched.

'Er, no.' I was confused how we'd leapt from questioning her finances and the pensiveness that had apparently brought, to this. Even so, there was no denying the finery of the view.

She batted her eyelashes and said coyly. 'You haven't seen upstairs yet.'

'Er, yeah. I don't know.'

Lisa discarded her top in one smooth motion, letting it float to the floor.

My feeble vascilations went unheeded as Lisa took my hand and led me up the staircase. A few doors led from a small landing, a bathroom, Lisa's room at the front and I guessed another bedroom at the back.

Despite the lack of any other furniture, Lisa had apparently found time to organise a queen sized bed. She slinked towards it, dragging me in her wake. Part of me was shouting no, but the larger part was calmly rationalising that we could discuss any issues we may have later.

Lisa knelt on the bed. She took my hands and rubbed them around her curvy hips, up to her slim waistline and up her sides. Her smooth skin yielded under my touch, revealing soft flesh between the gentle bumps of her ribs.

'Lisa...'

She put a finger over my lips. 'Don't spoil it, Des.'

I didn't want to spoil it. The temperature was rising in my pants. But...

'This is what you want isn't it? This is what I am?' She unzipped my pants.

Disturbed by her words I half-heartedly flicked her hands away. 'What?'

Her fingers persisted as she spoke. 'A hot chick? A good lay? That's all I am isn't it?'

I prised her hands off my belt and paced back. 'What's gotten into you?'

'Just about everybody? Didn't you know? Isn't that what you're saying? Whoever can pay the admission price. Isn't that right? But who's playing who Des? Huh? Men are like tiles. Lay them right the first time, you can walk over them for life.'

'Look, I didn't mean...'

'What?'

I shrugged. It was pretty much what I meant.

'Then tell me this,' said Lisa leaping off the bed in her bra and tight pants with her hair flying wild - she'd never looked hotter. 'What was your price of admission? I'm guessing your wallet's pretty light.' She spat the last words with disdain.

All I could do was shrug again. She had a point. I was about to revert to Des's first rule when a cacophony of thumping erupted downstairs. Lisa and I stared at each other in shock.

'What the hell-'

'I know you're in there! Des! Lisa! Open the freakin' door!'

'He said he didn't know where you lived,' I hissed at Lisa.

'He didn't,' she returned. 'He must have followed you.' She rushed out of the room.

Forty-Four

Forty Two

2005-01-27T09:20:00.000+10:00

Mike's angry gaze bored into me, demanding an answer.

I wanted to spit back a smart-mouth something. Instead, I impersonated a mullet with legs. How could I have been so stupid? All the times I had told Mike what a user Lisa was... had I let her fool me so easily? What the hell had I been thinking? But then she hadn't fooled me had she? She had never promised anything, never claimed to be anything other than she had always been to me - a hot honey I'd secretly wanted to score with.

'Nothing,' I said unsteadily.

'It sure looks like nothing.' There was a dark edge to Mike's voice that I'd only heard once before. Years ago, in the final days before my parents finally put us all out of our misery and separated, Dad had pushed the edge of sanity. He'd forget things he'd said, or anyone else had said, he'd read malice into the most innocent event and he'd rage at the slightest provocation. During those rages, there had been a wildness in his voice and in his eyes, born of hurt and anger, of bitterness and loss.

I guess I was only beginning to understand the force of a wounded heart. I could almost smell the betrayal leeching from my skin - my own mingling with Lisa's. She had betrayed Mike, she would betray me said a voice of reason somewhere in my mind. I had known that all along, but I hadn't wanted to believe it. Things could be different with me... 'What trouble? What the hell are you talking about?'

'She's moved out,' said Mike, still watching my every reaction.

I feigned surprise then the appropriate disappointment for him.

'You're the one who always told me she was here for the free ride,' Mike continued.

I nodded slowly. I hadn't thought about it before with the distraction of juggling Nina and Lisa in the same room and then the hurry to get to Mike's - but it didn't make sense that Lisa suddenly got her own place. She didn't even have a job. 'Do you know where she's gone?' I asked, trying to find a thread of my unravelling mess.

Mike shook his head. 'She wouldn't tell me.' His words were measured; loaded.

'You want to stay with me for a while?' I didn't want him to, but I figured it was the most immediate way of telling him she wasn't with me.

He stared at me, probably trying to gauge if I was bluffing.

I shrugged like I didn't know what the attitude was about. 'If you want?'

'I don't think so,' he said and headed for the kitchen.

I blew a long breath, relieved to be on my own. I ran my fingers through my hair and rubbed my face - trying to jumpstart my brain. I questioned the prudence of following a Mike into a room containing readily accessible sharp implements, but I needed to know what was really going on.

Mike was pouring cornflakes into a bowl. Unwashed dishes lined the sink and draining board. I pulled out a bar stool and sat at the kitchen counter. 'You didn't tell me what this trouble is.'

'Didn't I?' Mike rummaged through a draw and to my relief, hooked out a serving spoon and not a knife. I guessed it was the last clean spoon in the draw. He sat at the dining table. I spun around on my stool to face him.

He stirred his cornflakes aimlessly. I fetched the milk from the fridge and put it on the table. 'You don't have to tell me.'

He stared at the milk and shook his head. 'I don't know what the hell is going on any more. Maybe I'm just paranoid.'

'Maybe you're just hurt.'

He gazed up at me, his adams apple bobbing a swallow. 'I think... I think she's got a sugar daddy. I think she tried to get away from him for a while, but he wouldn't let her go - or maybe he's found her again. I think the stupid lying tramp has got herself deep in shit and she's trying to keep me out of it.'

I leant back against the kitchen bench. Questions bubbled through my mind but the only one reached my mouth was, 'Why?'

Mike shoved his cornflakes away, still untouched. 'Why what?'

'Why anything? Why do you think she has a sugar daddy? Why do you need protecting?' I remembered Gary's excitement about an empty condom wrapper, no doubt a dirty tell-tale that led all the way to a major dump.

Mike traced random patterns on the table top with his spoon. 'Forget it.'

'Forget it? I can't just forget-'

A rush of air whistled past my ear. The spoon clattered to a halt on cupboard door and then on the kitchen tiles.

Yeah, that was the look alright. The look Dad got before he beat on Mum. Maybe the truth was somewhere in between Lisa and Mike's stories.

We sat in silence, studiously avoiding eye contact for several minutes. I was concerned Mike would do something stupid if I left, and I was concerned he'd do something stupid if I stayed. There was only one person that was going to give me all the answers I needed.

I edged away from the bench. 'I might.. er...' I nodded towards the front of the house.

'Whatever.'

I didn't risk further words. I had a fury of my own burning. I rang Gary from my car and told him to get over to Mike's place. I didn't answer any of his questions besides telling him Mike needed a friend. A real friend.

I pulled Lisa's crumpled address out of my pocket. I needed answers and I was damn well going to get them.

Forty Three

Forty One

2005-01-26T10:16:00.000+10:00

I stood in Mike's living room. He was curled into a ball on the couch and I was thinking how I'm never satisfied. Mike and Lisa had broken up, she'd moved out, I had her address and she clearly still wanted me. The path was clear. What more could I want?

In a word, insurance. Nothing works out that cleanly. Not for me. Not ever.

I'm thinking all this as Mike wails all over the fake suede couch that Lisa had bought only three weeks earlier.

'You don't want to get that wet. It might mark.'

Mike didn't seem to hear me. I walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder. 'Dude. It'll be ok.'

I haven't called anyone dude for years, but the sight of Mike hugging his knees threw me back to a scene from an earlier era, when Mike had been beaten up by the library monitor. I tell you, no one messed with Agatha's dreds after that. I didn't feel bad for spit balling her, but I did feel remorse for pointing Mike out as the culprit. But it was too late to own up when she unleashed her kick boxing skills. I felt the same as I stooped over him now, offering awkwards pats of reassurance: remorseful, but knowing the damage had already been done.

'You'll move on, put all this behind you...' Even I doubted it as I spun my unoriginal platitudes. No way would Mike score a major hottie twice in his life.

'I don't want to move on,' he mumbled through his arms. He sniffed and wiped his face on his t-shirt sleeve. 'I want to get her back. I have to Des. And you're going to help me. Aren't you?'

I stopped my patting and took a step back. Apparently half an hour was enough time to review his better-off-without-the-slut theory.

'You just feel that way now,' I said. It'd be tough at first, but he'd have to accept it. Things must have been bad for a long time for him to get so bent out of shape that he'd hit her - not that there was any excuse. 'It'll be different in time,' I offered.

'Screw time. She's in trouble. Way out of her league. She thinks I'm stupid, that I don't see things. I've looked the other way too many times... I was so desperate to hold onto her, I pretended that it'd get better, if I just tried harder. She'd change...'

'Yeah,' I murmured. Sure I hated to see him so screwed up, but he was painting himself as something I knew he wasn't.

I tossed a blanket out of the way and brushed aside some stale chips that had spilt from an open bag to make room to sit down.

'Des, I 'm serious.' Mike grabbed my arm like I was his only salvation.

I resisted the urge to pull away. Mike's incongruent duality of self pity and concern for someone he had harmed started to annoy me. 'Maybe she's doing what's best for her,' I said.

'She thinks she is,' replied Mike vehemently.

'Maybe she's right.'

'Shit. When did you start giving Lisa any credit?'

'When she started earning it.'

Our eyes locked for a long moment. I'm not sure what Mike saw, but it was enough to furrow his brow in thought.

I got up and paced the room. I could feel Mike's gaze following me.

'You've seen her cheek,' he said quietly.

I stopped my pacing and stared out the window at the suburban blandness. I nodded, not wanting to look back. My heart hammered in my chest. I anticipated some sort of purile justification was coming.

'That's nothing compared to what could happen.'

'What? You're threatening her?' I turned back to Mike.

He was standing now, his fists pumped. 'What if I was?'

I was too stupefied to answer. How could he flaunt his abuse so blatantly?

Mike's eyes slid from my face to my hands. It was belatedly that I realised they were as balled as his.

'You think I did that to her, don't you?'

I opened my mouth to reply and suddenly realised that I had never really questioned Lisa's story. I guess I hadn't wanted to. It fitted in neatly with my conquest objectives. If Mike was a bastard he didn't deserve her.

Mike nodded, seeming to see the cogs of my mind whirring. 'You've got it all wrong. I thought you knew me better than that. I thought I knew you better. What have you been up to Des?'

Forty Two

Forty

2005-01-26T09:32:00.000+10:00

A slice of reconstituted pizza and half an apple later I faced the dilemma of how to amuse myself for the day. Normally it'd be a question of net surfing and blogging. But I was restless and still peeved that my adouring public couldn't be bothered to comment me their advice. But that was nothing compared to Lisa. Despite my determination not to, I blogged a quick entry.

Thanks for all your freakin' help.

Not that you care, but I'm really worried about Lisa. She STILL hasn't called. What's with that? She thinks she can keep me hanging? Well I'm not that kind of guy, no matter how hot she is. Maybe I should ring Mike.

It was sounding like a definite plan. I could act like I was concerned about him and see how things had gone. That was legitimate. In truth, I was concerned about him. I just needed to get my own things in order before I could really feel and act it.

I had picked up the receiver and was dialing his number when there was a tap on my garage door. I hung up.

Pulling the door up revealed two sets of feet, tight pants and a flapping purple dress. 'Oh, hey,' I said, thinking that this was just about the worse scenario for this early in the morning.

Lisa grinned her secret grin that said everything I wanted it to. 'Nina thought it'd be nice to stop by and say hi,' she said. Nina looked away but she smiled through the red that was so obvious on her otherwise appliance-white skin.

'Um... cool. Come in.' 'Cause this isn't going to be awkward at all. We single filed through the garage, Lisa hanging back and winking at me. Des note: danger turns her on.

'So how is... everything?' I asked. Her cheek was purple now, but beginning to fade to yellow around the edges.

'I've moved out,' she said like a weather observation.

'Huh? Just like that? Where?' And why wasn't she moving in with me?

'A unit. Not far. Nina helped me pick it yesterday... after your... cake date.' She arched an eyebrow, but she had her back to Nina who's face retreated back to simulated sunburn.

'Oh, right,' I said, unable to defend myself.

The phone rang. I dived on it.

'She's gone, man.' I wouldn't have known who it was, so strained was the voice, but my slight psychic streak kicked in (after I looked at caller ID).

'Mike?'

'You were right all along. I should have listened. She's just a gold-digging-hoe, a two timing slut. It's over. Bitch has left.'

Lisa and Nina gazed at me as I listened to Mike. If he had said that to me a week ago I would have been pleased, knowing in the long term he would be better off rid of her. But now it angered me. He just didn't know her properly - and he hadn't treated her right. What the hell did he expect? Still, I'd never heard him so distraught. 'Maybe I should come over?'

'Yeah,' said Mike through a snivel.

'Just sit tight, I'll be half an hour.'

Lisa licked her lips. 'How is he?' she asked after I hung up.

'He sounds terrible. I better go check on him.'

Lisa nodded. I grabbed my wallet and keys. Lisa pushed a scrap of paper into my palm as I brushed by her. I slipped it in my pocket.

As we left via the garage I squizzed a look at it: her new address.

We said our farewells. 'You're a good friend, Des,' added Nina as the girls walked away.

'Yeah,' I replied quietly. The best. Lisa's address crinkled in my pocket as I got into the car.

Forty One

Thirty Nine

2005-01-25T07:53:00.001+10:00

I checked my blog for comments sporadically for two hours after I posted - it was a break from crotch scratching.

This adds to the weight of my basic theory that people are overrated. Here I am in genuine distress, opening my soul to the world and asking for help. I know people are reading because the hit counter is clicking over. Who offers help, advice, encouragement, abuse? No one. Not even weird pig person.

It's the same story the next morning. I didn't sleep well so I was cranky when I rang my cleaning agency. I work like a sub contractor, they find me jobs, I do the jobs and I pay them a finder's fee. Sounds fair doesn't it? Except they get their fee every time I do the job. So they do something for me once, and I pay them forever. It's like finance. Arangements like this make me determined to get off the algae-covered link of the food chain. Until I forget about it.

'It's Des Perrat, I got a message to call.'

'Just a minute.' The agency chick tapped my name out on her keyboard. There was a pause while she read whatever warnings were on her screen then she cleared her throat to create the proper tone of authority.

'We had calls from some of your clients yesterday. They said there cleans weren't done. Is that right?'

Damn, did they have to push their own flush buttons? 'Yeah, er... sorry about that.' (Des's first rule remember.)

She didn't answer. I guess she was expecting more of an explanation. If I hadn't been stewing over my non blog responses and the general slackness of people I would have thought my excuses through before calling. So this is your fault and it was also a sign of how far my world had already crumbled. Fortunately for your conscience and my well-being, I BS well on the fly.

'I had a bit of an emergency to deal with... everything else slipped my mind.'

'An emergency?' She faked concern through her talking-down-to-me voice.

'Yeah, my girlfriend was assaulted.'

'Oh my god. Is she alright?' Yeah, now that was genuine. No one fakes it with me, baby.

'Oh, yeah, she will be. I just needed to be there for her. You know... nothing else seemed to matter.' I was going to fake this pitiful emotion strained voice, but I thought of Lisa and how she had looked so helpless... and my voice went all sissy on its own.

'Of course. Is she in hospitable?'

Des's second rule - stay as close to the truth as possible. 'No, she's at home. She just needs some Des time.'

'Well,' said the agency woman, all condescending fake authority lined concern gone now replaced by empathy for my troubles and admiration for my caring attitude. 'I'll organise a substitute to take over your roster. You'll need a couple more days?'

'Er...' I had to maintain my tale despite pending brokeness. '...that'd be good.' It wasn't me who would miss the money so much as my landlord.

I shrugged and rumaged the fridge for something edible for breakfast.

Forty

Thirty Eight

2005-01-23T13:02:00.000+10:00

As some anonymous voyeur pointed out, I didn't explain all that was going
on in my last blog post. And I've been busy - yeah I know that's weird for me - so I
haven't blogged much.

Quick recap - Mike is my best friend. His girlfriend Lisa came to seem me one night. She's a hoe, a hot hoe. She had a bruise, apparently from Mike. I consoled, then porked. Nina is a friend of Lisa's. She's cute, of interminable size thanks to her propensity for wearing bag-dresses and she's young. We've gone out a couple of times. So far I have averted suspicion away from my unsanctioned Lisa bang via some awkward explanations to Mike. I bumped into Nina at Gary's movie and music emporium - just in time to save Nina from his advances. Nina's kind of cool in a messed up polar bear kind of way: she nagged her former boyfriend to death, literally.

Now before I get the important stuff like how I'm feeling, I'd just like to make a special note to my Anon fan with the pig fetish.

BACK OFF!

See? I can be tough on the internet too, a real man. Roast pig... you've seen too many Looney tunes. Next you'll be opening a can of whoop-ass on me. Pft. Whatever.

*Cracks knuckles* I'm feeling better now.

So this morning I had cake with Nina. I'm starting to like spending time with her and this is a worry. I almost slapped myself when I realised I was trying to make her laugh just so I could see her teeth again. Yeah - teeth. WTF?

Lisa thinks I'm a clutz the way I keep dropping things, you know... so she bends over... I mean she's got teeth, but they're not the main act. Lisa's the big box at Christmas time. You know what it is - it's exactly what you want, you just want to get your hands on it - and you love it, even if it still has the sticky finger prints of every other kid in the store who checked it out first.
Nina is the mystery present. You curiously fumble the wrapping wondering if it's possible that someone found something you really wanted, you just didn't know it yet.
Nah, never happens.

Anyway after cake I drove Nina home. I didn't want her wandering back to Gary's shop and driving her home made me look chivalrous. *snigger* I didn't go in 'cause her Mum was home and I didn't want to get into a bad three way dynamic of how I wasn't good for her daughter. She'd know. They always do.

So here I am. My answering machine flashed at me when I got home. I was hoping it was Lisa. It feels like days since I talked to her and it was only this morning. We need to get our stories straight. If she tells Mike something that conflicts with what I told him... I guess she'll call when she can. I can't risk calling her. I just hope they're not making up - on so many levels.

The machine was a false alarm by the way: Mum. Yeah, you know the drill. 'Your father came to see you this morning.' She rang to tell me my own news again. I'll call her back, er, sometime.

Right now I'm fretting over Lisa. What if she does get back with Mike? What if he hits her again - worse? What if she decides last night, all night, and this morning was a mistake? A multiple slip in judgment? What if she told Mike it was over and that
she is with me now? What if he couldn't accept it? What if he's locked her in the bathroom and plans to feed her under the door for the rest of her life?

I mean these are issues. Real issues. This isn't right. It's distracting me from my normal worthless vassilations - like trying to work out why Elijah Wood played Frodo so gay.

Pft. Anyway, in all the excitement this morning I forgot to cancel my cleaning appointments. There's an SMS to call the agency. I guess I'll have to in the morning. I'll make up something.

Look, if anyone has any real meaningful input as to what I should do, express it to me. (Not you weird pig person.) Do I confess? Do I tell Mike to back off? What about Nina? (Not you pig person.) Tell me.

I'll be refreshing the screen every thirty seconds for the next hour.

Thirty Nine

Thirty Seven

2005-01-23T11:50:00.000+10:00

Where have you been? What have you done? Why do you feel bad for Mike? Do NOT, hurt Nina. I like my pigs roasted.
Anon.

It had been a long time since I had blogged. Reading any comment other than "You're a disgusting pig" was probably gonna throw me, but this one sounded kinda freaky. Still, I supposed one extra sick freak on the web wasn't going to unhinge the world.

There were things I needed to get off my chest. This break in routine was starting to stress me. I mean, I actually had interesting stuff to say and I hadn't seen a toilet, except for necessity, in days. Yeah... more about that soon. So finally, I returned to "self", and I blogged my little heart out.

Thirty Eight

Thirty Six

2005-01-21T08:45:00.003+10:00

Traffic choked the street outside. I raised my voice to talk to Nina. 'Where're you going? I was thinking of calling you.'

Nina kept walking so I maintained pace next to her. Her hair bobbed up and down with each stride. I couldn't handle my shoulders being tickled like that, but it looked cool. She half glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. 'Thinking of calling?'

'Yeah, well - no - I mean - you know... I was going to call you.' I might have done. No I was going to, probably.

She didn't drop that questioning I-don't-believe-you look. I guess I couldn't blame her, but then again, things with Lisa were kind of unexpected. If it weren't for that I might have called. But even after Lisa and I had... there's a good chance I'd have called because I'd need Nina's help keeping tabs on Lisa from a distance. 'Let's get a coffee or something.' I suggested.

See? Even me, Mr anti-caffeine man, suggested coffee. Not a drink, not a morning tea, but coffee. Why? Guess I thought it would sound cooler than inviting her to play lunch.

Nina kept on walking, her conversation skills reaching a new low.

I tried again. 'Usually when I talk to people, I say something, then they say something, and then I say something.'

She stopped and swirled around on me with a frown. It was kind of a turn on, seeing her all worked up, but despite the stare of death, she still didn't speak.

I raised my shoulders. 'Have I done something to upset you?'

She tapped her foot on the pavement as shoppers weaved their way around us. 'Have you, Des?'

What's with that? I don't know - do I? That's why I was asking. Or maybe she knows. But how? Had Lisa rung her already - maybe she couldn't contain her excitement after last night?

'Look...' I wasn't sure how much to say. 'I didn't mean for things to turn out like this...'

Nina poked me in the chest. 'You were looking at me like I was... I was your sandwich and that guy was about to bite me. So we've gone out a couple of times - I'm not your property.'

'Oh,' I said, clarification dawning. Is that all she's upset about? I sighed in relief. 'Sorry.' [Des tip: it's always best to start with an apology, even if you dont mean it: it takes the heat out of things.]

Nina relaxed a little. I motioned to a spot out of the main pedestrian traffic and she followed me over. The micro break gave me time to collect my thoughts enough to unleash the Des charm.

'It's just, well I know what Gary's like, and I thought we kind of made a connection. You know, with the...' - I didn't want to mention her former boyfriend - 'the... you know on the beach... and the A3 arse and everything.'

Nina smiled. 'Des, I'm not sure I'm ready for... something.'

'Me neither. I've never been good with somethings. Too awkward. But I'm ready for cake. Come on... c-a-k-e. No wait - mudcake. You know you want it.'

Nina grinned, her perfect teeth just showing. 'With cream?'

'Of course with cream. We'll order whatever has the most cholesterol in it.'

Nina laughed and fell into step beside me.

Damn, I even impress myself sometimes.

Thirty Seven

Thirty Five

2005-01-20T09:19:00.000+10:00

'Nina?'

She looked across at me, surprise widening her eyes. 'Oh, Des, hi.'

Yeah, hi to you to. Flirting with my mate were you?

Gary frowned and pointed between us. 'You know each other.'

'Sure,' I said, moving down the counter to stand close to Nina. 'We had a date yesterday.'

Gary knew what I was saying. He nodded slowly, disappointment clouding his face. Nina tennis-watched both of us, probably feeling as awkward as she should.

Gary chewed his tongue for a moment. 'So does that mean...' he motioned to him and Nina and shrugged.

I ice-stared Gary and then checked on Nina to make sure she was going to turn him down flat. I mean, yeah, technically we didn't have anything official going on, but - well it wouldn't be right to go out with someone right in front of me - the next day - especially a mate.

Gary stared at her too.

'That was sweet, thank you,' she said to Gary. 'I've got to be going-' She backed away from the counter.

'Hang on,' said Gary.

'Me too,' I said following Nina's lead.

Nina waved to Gary, and probably to me, but I wasn't letting her get away that easy.

'Where you going?' asked Gary as Nina reached the stairs.

'Muffin break,' I said and followed Nina out.

Thirty Six

Thirty Four

2005-01-19T14:03:00.000+10:00

I have to admit, I felt rattled driving away. Were they going to make up? Was Lisa going to be ok? Could I really be screwing Mike over like this? Am I ever gonna think of another Harry Potter analogy?

I mean lots of things were starting to go on in my life and I wasn't sure I was comfortable with that. I've got routines, rhythms, patterns I like to follow. Did I really want that disrupted for a pair of tight hot-pants and sweet fun-bags?

Then there was Dad. Not that I like to think of Dad and fun bags in close proximity. But what was with him? Should I go and see him? I wasn't sure I could get to the bottom of things in our four allotted sentences of conversation time.

I pulled up the traffic lights and ignored the left turn that would have taken me home. I had an itching to blog to clear my head, but I didn't really need another reminder that I was disgusting someone besides myself. I let the road take me into town and ambled around the shops for a while.

Pretty soon I ended up where most aimless, mostly unemployed space cadets ended up, at Gary's shop.

I expected him to be lounging over the counter like usual, but I he was nowhere to be seen when I walked into the gloom of his downstairs sales cavern. I checked out Gary's pre-release DVD's, most of which were still playing at the cinema. If I could speak Korean I would have been tempted to buy one.

Gary emerged from the little store room out the back smelling suspicious. 'Twice in one week? You feeling ok?'

'I just couldn't go another day without smelling your B.O. again.'

Gary sniffed his pits. 'That's not B.O.'

'I know.' For some reason, my banter was off. No donuts for guessing Gary's excuse.

He signalled for me to come closer as he rounded the counter. 'Muffin alert. Back row. How do I look?'

'You're an adonius. I don't how she's keeping her distance.'

Gary acknowledged my touch down with a fake smile and got over it instantly. 'I think she likes me.'

I tried to get a look at her but all I could see was a tuft of brunette hair behind an end-of-row Spiderman display rack.

'She's your type.'

'Yeah?' he said hopefully.

'She's got hair.'

He pulled back and dusted his not so fake bong display. 'Have you cleaned one bowel too many?'

I guessed I was being a touch acidic. I shrugged. 'Long night.'

'Need some hand cream?'

'Got any left?'

We both raised our hands. Gary looked over my shoulder. 'Shut up man, she's coming over.'

I nodded and pretended to be engrossed by the nearest CD I picked up - The Great Celebrity Sing Off.

'Hey,' said Mike to his intended victim.

'Hi.'

The CD really was engrossing me. William Shatner sings Mr Tamborine Man? And I thought he looked bad in Star Trek. He didn't even bother sucking in the polyester pot-belly at the end.

'You're really pretty and I like you already. Do you wanna go out?' said Gary. 'You don't have a boyfriend do you?'

You have to love Gary's style.

'Er...'

No way, Leonard Nimoy sings "If I had a Hammer"? I put the CD down, just knowing I was going to have William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy starring in my nightmares.

'Well, no, I don't.'

I looked up from the flower rimmed CD cover. I was assaulted by a bag-dress.

Thirty Five

Thirty Three

2005-01-16T09:04:00.000+10:00

'So what did she say?' Mike asked.

I laughed, trying to act casual. 'She's a woman, she's got like a ten thousand word daily quota. You expect me to remember?'

Mike nodded.

'Look, she was upset, angry. Couples go through this stuff...' I shut up, hoping he would assume nothing of real consequence was shared. Besides, my BS limit was approaching.

Mike scratched his chin and looked up, some of the concern lines leaving his face. 'You probably weren't listening anyway.'

I laughed. 'Well, this is true.' Any other time it probably would have been. 'Anyway I should leave you two to... you know...' I headed for the driver's door.

'Yeah,' said Mike

I didn't want to leave, but I didn't see any other options. Staying longer would look odd. Mike seemed to be calm, so I hoped Lisa wasn't in any danger, and I was given no choice but to trust her judgment on that anyway.

'You ok?' I asked after I started the car. Before you diss me for that, it was a genuine question. I was startign to wonder what would drive Mike to such out of character behaviour. Was it out of character?

'Yeah,' said Mike through the open window.

I hated to leave Lisa, but especially like this. 'Call me if you need anything... try not to get too... tense about things...'

I backed out and left Mike staring after my exhaust pipe as I drove home.

Thirty Four

Thirty Two

2005-01-15T07:35:00.000+10:00

I could lie and say that Lisa came over last night and stayed over, but nothing happened. Or I could lie and say she came over early this morning. Although it was riskier to admit she stayed overnight, I decided to follow the first rule of lying; make the lie as close to the truth as possible - there's less to remember that way.

'She came over last night. She was real upset.'

'And you didn't call me?'

'I could have done, but she might have left if I had done, and then where would she go?'

Mike folded his arms, suspicion still firm on his face. 'Why didn't she go to a friends - Nina's?'

I shrugged, it really was a mystery to me. 'Maybe 'cause Nina lives with her parents.'

Mike gave a slight nod, seeing the logic in my golden spins.

I pre-empted the next logical place his mind would go. 'We talked for quite a while, till she calmed down. Man, you owe me, you know how crappy my couch is. I'm buggered now.' I looked at my watch. 'And I was supposed to meet Nina this morning.'

Mike gave a half-hearted grunt, but his arms dropped and I was winning him away from angry suspicion towards anguish. Did I know his dirty little secret? There was no way for Mike to ask.

Thirty Three

Thirty One

2005-01-13T15:48:00.000+10:00

'What the hell is going on? Where have you been? Why are you bringing her home?' Mike fired the questions at us like a machine gun.

'What would you care?' shouted Lisa. She slammed the car door and stalked towards the house.

'Don't slam the door.' I hate it when people slam my car doors. The car didn't do anything wrong, unlike us.

Mike stared at me for a second, disbelief, anger and embarrassment cycling over his face before he chased after Lisa.

I figured I shouldn't go in, but I shouldn't leave Lisa either. The front door slammed and then opened again as Lisa then Mike reached the house. I got out of my car and leant on the front bonnet, watching the house for signs of trouble, or signs I should run.

Some muffled shouts were followed by silence.

I was beginning to think I should leave when Mike appeared again, quietly closing the front door behind him.

What had Lisa told him? Should I run... fight... deny it? I fumbled for my keys as Mike sauntered closer, his head down and his hands in his pockets.

'She won't talk to me,' he said, kicking absently at my front tyre.

'Maybe when she calms down a bit,' I offered, then bit my lip. We should have got out stories straight while we had the chance.

'Sorry about all this,' said Mike. He scuffed his shoes on the concrete driveway.

'It's ok.' I said, feeling awkward that he was apologising to me. Seeing Mike out of sorts almost prompted me into confessing that I'd porked his girl. But then I remembered how upset Lisa had been when she had arrived at my place and the burning red bruise on her cheek. The thought of anyone harming her fired me up. If he hadn't been such a loser, Lisa would never have come looking for me, and none of this would have happened.

'So...' said Mike. 'How come she was with you?' He finally looked up. There was rage in his eyes, but subdued, like he was thinking the worst, but trying not to believe it. That kind of pissed me off too. Nine years should have bought me more trust than that.

'She was upset, real upset. I've been doing my best to calm her down, make her feel a bit better... so you guys can sort things out.' I added the last bit on a whim, but I figured it was pretty inspired.

Mike nodded. 'Do you think... did she say... I don't know what to do.'

'I think you need to treat her better if you want her to stick around.'

Mike gave me a sharp look, searching for how much I knew.

I blanked my face as best I could.

'I want her to stick around,' he said cautiously.

I nodded, like I could feel his pain. I guess I could in a way. I wanted her to stick around too. Me, that is. I looked away.

'So... Lisa came to your place? This morning?'

I swallowed. This was going to get tricky.

Thirty Two

Thirty

2005-01-11T16:02:00.000+10:00

Half an hour later I was driving Lisa back to Mike's place. The sun was out, it was mild with the windows down and normally I'd be ignoring that sort of thing and grinning about my conquest. But things were bothering me - like I didn't see the sense in Lisa going anywhere near Mike again. 'Just pick up your stuff and come back to my place.'

Lisa rested her arm on the window sill. 'No.'

'How do you know Mike's not going to be there?'

Lisa shrugged. 'He might be.'

I drove at the speed limit; in no hurry to deliver Lisa into possible danger, or, if I was prepared to delve deeper into my sick psyche, in no hurry to be without her either. Her bruised cheek was hidden from me and she was looking mighty fine in she reclined the seat back, letting the wind tussle her hair.

A nasty thought entered my clouded mind. 'You can't intend to stay with him. Not after... we... not after that.' I pointed to her face.

'It's not as simple as that,' she said in a tired voice.

'Sure it is. You're either a punching bag or you're not.'

She cocked her head and gave me one of her sly, sexy half-grins. 'You're kind of sweet when you're not being a complete turd.'

I concentrated on the positives and grinned back.

'Of all the people to...' she shook her head, 'I never thought it'd be you.'

That big gap could have been filled with just about anything, but I guessed she was talking about my ability to satisfy her - you know - physically. 'Why don't you at least call him first? Make sure he's settled down?' It occured to me as we closed-in on Mike's house that I could also be in the firing line.

'He'll be fine.'

'I hope so.'

We pulled into Mike's steep driveway. If fine meant flying out the front door like a doberman had just bit his arse, then Lisa was right, Mike was dandy.

Thirty One

Twenty Nine

2005-01-09T10:20:00.000+10:00

'So... you, er...' I did the sexy eye and the cool hip swing.

She slapped my groping hand away. 'No.'

My chest and shoulders sag to normality. I supposed now we were going to have that morning after talk about where we went from here. We didn't.

After I got tired of Lisa telling me not to gawk at her while she showered, I went and checked my blog for comments.

Don't hurt Nina.

Anon.

Succint. I shrugged and created a new post.

Life's funny sometimes. One day I'm a lonely loser, the next I'm getting it off
with a hot chick with a second woman sniffing around me. Ah, it was only a
matter of time.

But yes, I do feel bad for Mike. But less bad than I
might have done if he hadn't been bashing Lisa. I mean... I know I'm low on the
moral scale, but I wouldn't hit a chick. Not ever. I always figured only total
cowards with no saving graces would be that dumb. And now I find a friend of
mine, I mean Mike is cool...

Anyway, I guess I'm not one to be judging
today. But stuffed if I know what to do now.

I read it over and then published. I flicked the browser shut as Lisa walked in, a towel drooped slackly around her, her hair still dripping water onto her bare shoulders.

DesTime.

Thirty

Twenty Eight

2005-01-09T09:58:00.000+10:00

We stood around sipping our morning drinks in silence. You know you're in trouble when you sip your drink so that it won't run out. Check out the sippers at the next party and then tell me they're not the socially stunted.

'I should be going,' said Lisa.

'No, don't,' I reflexed.

Dad slurped the dregs of his mug. 'I'll go. You two are busy.'

Relief and mild anguish warred inside me. 'Was there something special you wanted?'

Dad looked from me to Lisa and back again. 'Nah.'

'Well...' I wasn't sure whether to try and stop him or not. After all this could have been a breakthrough moment for us, but Lisa might still be up for it - technically we hadn't had breakfast yet. '...if that's what you want.'

Dad chucked his stoneface at me like that would explain something. 'I'll show myself out.'

'That wasn't very nice of you,' said Lisa after Dad left.

'What?' What was I supposed to do?

'He obviously wanted something. What's the deal with you guys anyway? You're like a couple of polar bears stuck on the same iceberg.'

I huffed. That was a pretty impressive analogy - on account of polar bears being anti-social and all that. Lisa was full of surprises, and so far, they were all good. 'Stuffed if I know. He's been weird ever since I got my own opinions.'

Lisa shook her head. 'Men.'

Whatever that meant.

Twenty Nine

Twenty Seven

2005-01-04T14:47:00.000+10:00

'So...' I said. (Subtle huh?)

'I should have thought,' said Dad. 'I'd have known I'd be cramping your lifestyle by coming over this early.'

I checked the clock: 8.47am. Damn I was going to be late for work. Any other day and I would be on my way, but no, the day Dad comes over I'm in bed with my best friend's sweet-ride. I wanted to say, 'Yeah Dad, this is a normal day for me.' But I didn't: it might leads to awkwardness, like admitting how long it had been since the last time I got my wick wet. Even without manifesting it with a smart-ass comment, the awkwardness got us.

Lisa stared at us, maybe trying to work out the dynamic we had going on.

I couldn't help but grin, now I knew she looked just as good without the t-shirt. I was amazed I even thought of work. When the hell did I get conscientious? If ever there was a day to call in sick, this was it - or it would be if I could get rid of Dad before Lisa realised that last night was a mistake.

[Bridget Jones style observation, except accurate, because I'm male, hereafter known as Anti-Britch Observations, or maybe Desism's. I'll decide later.

Anti-Britch Observation / Desism 1: Chicks realise the next morning that whatever they did the night before was a mistake. Guys know it is a mistake before, during and after whatever it is they were doing; they just don't care. This is why guys are cool.]

'Nice shiner,' said Dad.

Lisa filled the kettle. 'Anyone for coffee?'

'Sure,' said Dad.

I shook my head. I don't get the fixation with coffee. You've gotta be a caffeine junky to be cool. Oh I can't start the day without my cuppa, oh I'm a caffeine addict, I take my caffeine intravenously. Whatever. A good pair of hooters is all I need to jumpstart my morning.

After I got over my private coffee rant it occurred to me that Lisa handled Dad well. I would have said something direct, but she just deflected him. I'd have to remember that. Though I doubt my leaning over the bench would be as captivating.

Twenty Eight

Twenty Six

2005-01-02T21:02:00.000+10:00

Lisa rolled over. 'I should go.'

The bedside clock had just flashed to 3.01am. 'Stay,' I said. 'What's the point in going now?'

She snuggled against me. I guess that's what she wanted to hear. But I didn't say it for that. I meant it. I eventually fell asleep.

Yeah, so you noticed - I skipped the sex scene. Give me a break, this is a public blog ya know. Besides, five years and Harry Potter hasn't got a proper girlfriend yet. I got laid in two weeks.

It was late by the time someone knocked on the flyscreen again. I braced myself for the worst, thinking Mike had figured things out already. 'Wait here for them to go away,' I said to Lisa.

'At least see who it is.'

I didn't want her to know quite how gutless I can be, not yet anyway, so I obligued. I pulled back the lounge curtain. Dad gazed maurosely at the front door. I would have ignored him if he hadn't looked as if he had been invited to breakfast in Hell's kitchen.

'So,' I said after the garage-ritual entry.

Dad nodded, looking around at my spartan pad as if my threadbare existence confirmed everything he had expected.

Lisa joined us, wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a smile that said recently-sexed. 'Hi.'

'Dad, this is Lisa.'

Dad nodded at her and stared fractionally too long at her chest. 'Didn't Gary have a girlfriend called Lisa?'

'No. Mike... um... did.' I didn't see much of Dad anymore but he'd known my friends pretty well since they had invaded our house every afternoon after school. It must have been six months since we last spoke, and I had told him then about Mike and Lisa. Now I wished I hadn't.

'You the same Lisa?' he asked.

Lisa didn't redden or seem abashed in any way. She kind of stared him down. 'Yeah.'

He looked from her to me. 'A-ha.' He nodded again; something else he had expected, apparently.

Twenty Seven

Twenty Five

2005-01-02T08:55:00.000+10:00

'I can't believe it,' I said. 'And that bruise the other day?'

Lisa grimaced. 'He doesn't mean it.'

'Mike?' I couldn't believe it. But nothing bothered Mike, not ever. I shook my head. The entire picture I'd slowly compiled of my friend over the last nine years - through High School and into real life, shook, crumbled, cavorted and spun on its axis. Did I know him at all?

Lisa stood, probably misinterpreting my silent mental gyrations for lack of interest. 'This was a mistake. I'll go.'

I caught her arm and spun her around. 'You can't let this go on.' There was something about my voice I didn't recognise. Lisa looked up at me, searching my face. I had never been comfortable with scrutiny, but at that moment, I had nothing to hide.

She melted into me and I held her tight. 'I don't know what to do,' she said, her words muffled through my shoulder.

I gently pried her head up so that I could look at her. My fingers lightly traced the edge of her bruise, before sweeping back through her hair. 'You let me help you,' I whispered in a husked voice, choked by emotion that I didn't know I possessed.

She smiled weakly, a tear streaking her face and she hugged me tightly. Seconds later, I don't remember how, our lips were as locked as our bodies. There was no turning back for me now.

Twenty Six

Twenty Four

2005-01-01T20:44:00.000+10:00

'What the hell happened to you?' I asked.

'It's nothing-' began Lisa.

I turned on the light. 'A great big red nothing.'

Lisa didn't fob me any further; raising her hands and then jigging her shoulders making a gesture of complete loss.

I shuddered when a single tear rippled down her cheek. I wanted to rush over and wrap in my arms, and not just 'cause it would feel good. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the emotional overload of having two girls cry in my presence in one day. Maybe it was confusion of how much Lisa's distress was disturbing my emotions. Maybe I was just a jerk.

The moment trickled away like her tear. She perched herself on the nearest sofa cushion. 'I shouldn't have come here... Mike's your friend.'

Alarm bells clanged in my mind - and not the Hermione kind. 'Mike did that to you?'

Twenty Five

Twenty Three

2005-01-01T13:16:00.000+10:00

I refreshed the screen for ten minutes but nobody had commented yet. It was time enough to reflect on what I'd written and wonder if it wasn't time to change my direction in life. Maybe the need to press myself against Lisa's curves would ease in time. She'd dump Mike eventually, when she found a richer guy - all I had to do was avoid both of them until then.

I was anticipating a "You're a disgusting pig" reply with every page reload when the flyscreen rattled to someone's knock. Lisa ducked under the garage roll-a-door before I had finished opening it and rushed passed me and into the house. I smiled to myself as I pushed the door back down and followed her in. She was eager for more of the DesMeister after all. Who could blame her?

I swaggered into the kitchen. The backlighting from the lounge accentuated the sweep of her curvey hips as she stood with her back to me. All my previous musings of self betterment melted under her sexuality.

'Sorry... I can hardly believe I'm here...' she said, her back still to me.

'Oh, I can believe it,' I replied, wondering whether to rest my hands on her shoulders.

'I didn't know where else to-' She flinched away as I touched her. She spun around. Even in the half light the puffed welt on her cheek burnt bright.

Twenty Four

Twenty Two

2005-01-01T11:59:00.000+10:00

Blog entry:

I had a date this afternoon with Nina. I didn't find anything out about Lisa's romping habits but I was surprised that I enjoyed myself. She's cute when she smiles. Her teeth are perfectly aligned. This could get messy. I feel kind of bad now that she confessed about nagging her former boyfriend to death - well kind of.
I'm pretty sure there's no suspicion being levelled my way so it probably won't go anywhere anyway. It's probably for the best. Besides, I can't get the feeling of Lisa's tongue out of my mouth. I'm surprised I haven't heard from her after last night, but... I guess... maybe it was no big deal to a hoe.
Maybe I should move away, get some new friends that I haven't tried to screw over.

Twenty Three

Twenty One

2004-12-31T08:32:00.000+10:00

I asked later, via my blog, whether this was an inappropriate remark. I only got one response:

You're a disgusting pig.
Anon.

I don't think they read my whole entry where I explained I was trying to cheer her up. Anyway...

When her tear-filled eyes stared at me from above her parted, trembling lips I figured I wasn't helping. I've never been into feelings, besides my own, so I did the best I could. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'It must have been such a shock.' I put my hands in my pockets, mainly because I couldn't think of anything else to do. I stole a few rapid glances at her.

She nodded and seemed to relax a little. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. 'No, I'm sorry,' she said between sniffs. 'I don't know why I told you that...' She took a final deep breath as if putting the subject behind her and turned away from the waves. 'No, I haven't,' she said.

I frowned but felt safe to look at her now that it seemed unlikey that she would subject me to more emotional abuse.

She smiled, quite bravely I thought, and said, 'They didn't have an an A3 sized copier.'

I made a show of examining her bottom and nodding sympathetically. She punched me in the arm, despite the null risk of actually detecting her bum size hidden as it was in the magically expanding bag-dress.

My arm ached for a good half hour but I pretended that my Y chromosone protected me from pain and only rubbed it when she wasn't looking.

'Mike thinks Lisa's screwing around,' I blurted as we got into the car. I wished I could retract it as soon as the words escaped, but that's what happens when I start to relax: thoughts ejaculate as unfiltered words.

It was Nina's turn to shrug with forced casualness.

Twenty Two

Twenty

2004-12-30T15:35:00.000+10:00

Nina bit her lip and looked at me but didn't answer.

I shrugged like it didn't bother me that she ignored my questions whenever she felt like it. 'Dole bludging works for some people - I guess,' I said. Harsh? I didn't think so.

She stopped and frowned at me. 'I was working...' She couldn't seem to decide what to do with her arms and hands, dangling them straight down then twisting them together and finally making fists that almost met in front of her abdomen. 'I... got fired...' she said, in a voice barely audible above the rush of the waves.

'Pffttt, I've been fired. No biggie. Get caught photocopying your arse?'

She turned away and looked out over the white crests of swell. 'My boyfriend died in a car crash. The last time I talked to him - I - I shouted at him - told him he was a useless prick... that I wouldn't forgive him this time. He'd forgotten to pick me up... again... They think he was hurrying... when it happened...'

I swallowed. 'Oh.'

She turned her head away again but I caught the glint of tears in her eyes.

'So, have you ever photocopied your arse?' I asked.

Twenty One

Nineteen

2004-12-30T15:14:00.000+10:00

What could be bugging Lisa out? Maybe she was bummed at the thought of being with Mike after pashing me. Maybe she was going to break up with him. But what about the story Gary had told me? - how Mike had found that opened condom wrapper in their house - one that wasn't his. I wondered whether to try and tease more info out of Nina. I hocked another shell at the seagulls and decided against mentioning Lisa any more, in case it seemed suspicious.

'So how come you're not kind of doing anything now?' I asked after another long pause in the conversation. In fact it was more like having several unconnected mini conversations with the same person rather than than one long conversation. I kind of liked it - sort of blog style where short posts are best to keep a reader's attention.

*snigger*

Twenty

Eighteen

2004-12-22T15:13:00.000+10:00

'I like to imagine things,' said Nina casting her eyes up the shoreline.

'Yeah? Like what?' She didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. There was a bunch of seagulls ahead, squawking around a shallow tidal pool.

'I don't know. How things might be, or might have been. I'm going to study Arts next year, maybe philosophy.'

I nodded. 'Deep. I like to imagine things.' I tried to imagine what was beneath her big green dress-sack. 'Like the slob-a-matic.'

She raised an eyebrow and blushed - I'm not sure why. 'The what?'

'The slob-a-matic. To run slob's lives so they remember to flush, and to pick up their dirty jocks and put dirty dishes in the sink - even if they don't wash them straight away.'

'Oh.' She laughed. 'That sort of stuff bugs you?'

'I guess.' I'd never really thought of myself as anal before. It wasn't really the image I was looking to project.

'You couldn't live with Lisa then.'

How smooth was that? 'Let me guess. She makes Hagrid look tidy?'

'Something like that.'

Woah, fifteen words in thirty seconds. I was impressed.

'I'm a bit worried about her,' said Nina quietly.

'Lisa?' I can be quick sometimes. I managed to stop myself from slapping my own forehead. Of course Lisa.

'She hasn't seemed herself lately. And last night, I don't know, she seemed kind of different. She sounded... '

I smiled to myself. She was on the Des cloud of love.

'...depressed.'

'No way! I mean... I've never seen Lisa down.' I picked up a shell and hocked it at the seagulls, now only a few metres in front of us.

'I know. Me neither - besides the usual boyfriend ups and downs.'

Be proud of me, I resisted the obvious line.

Nineteen

Seventeen

2004-12-22T13:40:00.000+10:00

I never was very good at fishing. I lost my bait but never jagged anything much. Life had turned out pretty much the same. But I stupidly assumed today would somehow be different.

'So...' I began.

Nina squelched her toes into the wet sand.

'What do you do?' Don't ask me I hadn't already asked that. Conversation isn't really my forte, and besides, the question probably wouldn't lead us to talking about me, so hadn't been a priority.

'Do?' She looked up with a smile of joy as the undertoe sucked at her feet.

The dark gold sand trailed from her foot in a thin stream in the otherwise clear water. 'Yeah... between waking and sleeping.'

She shrugged. 'Whatever.'

Now I respect the free flowing take on life; I make it a rule not to plan a day before it actually arrives, in case something happens in the delivery - and then I've wasted my planning time, but even I know what I spend most of my time doing. My fingers were getting itchy thinking about it. (Don't make me slap you.)

Eighteen

Sixteen

2004-12-22T08:29:00.000+10:00

My date with Nina started with an afternoon walk along the beach. I had to pick her up from her place because she didn't have a car. I didn't have to see the toilets to know her parents were loaded.

She'd been kind of surprised and kind of excited when I rang her and that was pretty much a first for me since my semi-cool high school days.

I guess that's why I was feeling pretty buoyant until we ran out of nothingy conversation half a mile down the beach.

'Beautiful day,' said Nina, after several minutes of silence.

'Yeah.' I looked about. The sky was blue, a few puffy white clouds floated in the distance, the sea breeze was cooling but not cold and the waves sighed restlessly onto the sand. All that nice nature kind of stuff.

I was trying to think of a casual way to bring Lisa into the non-existant conversation but impatience got the better of me. 'Have you heard from Lisa?'

'She called me late last night.'

'Oh right. How is she?'

'Fine.'

We left several more footprints in the sand as I marvelled at her ability to effortlessly share information.

Seventeen

Fifteen

2004-12-20T19:59:00.000+10:00

I hear what you're thinking: it's not going to work. (I told you I was slightly psychic). But I have a knack for pulling off the improbable.

I figured a situation with stakes this high required a personal visit. Gary worked at a rundown movie store selling stolen videos. He didn't actually steal them, and he denied they were stolen, but the video store bar codes on the DVD discs and video tapes gave it away. Besides, how else could he sell new releases for half price - before they were released?

Gary was helping the police with their enquiries when I arrived so I kept a low profile at the back of the store until they left.

'Trouble?' I asked.

'Huh? Oh, nah. They were just fishing. What dragged you out of cyberspace?'

I shrugged. 'Nothing special.'

Gary moved a stack of DVD's from a back shelf to the counter and started peeling off Blockbuster labels. 'You've got something cooking, I know that beady little look in your eye.'

I grinned. 'I might have a date. '

'A date?' Gary almost knocked his movie stack over.

'Yeah, it's not that surprising.'

'Pft,' said Gary. 'Sure it's not. Hooker's don't count as dates you know.'

And I thought I had a smart mouth. Gary and I got into these bonding insult-banter contests far too often. The practice was making him good.

'I showed her a picture of you and told her you were coming down tonight. She offered me a freebie.'

Gary wet a rag with metho and cleaned a disc. 'Nice. So what's her name?'

'Nina. She's a friend of Lisa's.'

'No way. Hey, did you get my message?'

Can you say manipulate? 'Nah, I haven't checked them yet.'

Gary stopped wiping. 'Mike is sure Lisa is getting product from another supplier. He's ropable.'

'Why?' I tried to sound casual. 'Did she oversmoke his smallgoods?'

Gary guffawed all over his clean DVD and had to wipe his spit off it. He loved smutty jokes - er, obviously. 'She's been going out a lot and stuff. I don't know. I mean of course she's playing around.'

'Yeah. Poor sap.' I slid one of his cleaned DVD's - "The Whole Ten Yards" over the counter and checked out the cover for pictures of Natasha Henstridge or Amanda Peet. There weren't any, which like the film, was mildly disappointing.

'So what's this Nina like?' asked Gary.

'Invert Lisa and you've got Nina.'

'Eeeewwww,' said Gary.

I put the movie back into the pile and shook my head. 'Not literally.'

'Oh!' exclaimed Gary, almost knocking over his metho bottle. '

'What?'

'He found a condom wrapper at their place. It wasn't one of his.'

I leaned closer. 'What, Mike did?'

'Yeah!' said Gary, excitement shining on his face.

Pangs of jealousy reared their green little heads around me. 'No way.'

Sixteen

Fourteen

2004-12-17T08:38:00.000+10:00

There were still no comments in the morning. I was getting over the disappointment and about to leave for work when the flyscreen rattled. It seems like I get lots of visitors and phone calls but I don't. Such activity is very odd, and it's only here because otherwise I'd have to talk about Harry Potter and surfing for porn and I don't want to go there again.

So anyway I pull the curtain back and see two white shirts, a briefcase and parked bikes on the footpath. I pretend that they didn't see me and drop the curtain. I head for the garage to leave- I was already late and couldn't wait for them to lose interest. If I was quick I could be reversing down the driveway before they realised it.

It was a stupid plan. The garage door squeaked and rattled its way open and they were on me like sand flies at the beach. But it occured to me they could be useful.

'Do you guys believe it's a sin to want to bang your friend's girlfriend?'

They stared at each other's perfect hair cuts. One of them pulled a thin magazine out of his briefcase. 'Sins are an issue we all struggle with.'

I nodded. 'That's what I thought.' Pity, it could have been a quick conversion. 'Can't stop, I'm late for work.'

'Are you familiar with the ten commandments?' asked the nearest one with slightly lighter blonde hair and black-rimmed glasses.

'And you guys think Jesus is an American.' You'd think they'd be more liberal.

Work was a joy. *end sarcasm* People's wealth can be measured by their toilets. Both by number and size. The place I did yesterday had five toilets, any one of which was worth more than my car. Today's place was far more modest, two toilets, one of which boasted a home painted seat and cover. I'd have loved to ask why, but sometimes I am capable of tact. Besides, the owners are both cops and I'm not sure if I'm more scared of the Mr or Mrs.

When I got home my answering machine was flashing. I left it, figuring it was probably Mum. The number Lisa left last night was still on the sofa as I walked by. I shook my head - as if.

To my joy there was a comment on my blog. I clicked on it expectantly.

You're a disgusting pig.

Anon.

Very helpful. I shrugged - I'd been called worse.

After that deflation I felt ready to deal with the answering machine.

'Des, pick up, it's Gary.' Pause. 'Des?'

Why do people always assume I'm home and listening to my messages with an evil giggle? Ok so I screen my calls. It's fair enough - I don't do telemarketers or finance companies. You know what I mean.

'I saw Mike this morning at the store. He's really pissed. He thinks Lisa is cheating on him.' Gary guffawed as my throat constricted. 'Duh!' he continued. 'The only surprise is gonna be which football team.' He guffawed again. 'Call me for the goss.'

Click.

I let a long breath escape. Nah. He couldn't think... I mean, nothing happened.

Still...

I dialled Nina's number.

Fifteen

Thirteen

2004-12-17T08:37:00.000+10:00

I'm skipping thirteen because it's an unlucky number. You'll get over it.

Fourteen

Twelve

2004-12-17T08:30:00.000+10:00

I woke in the night and tossed repeatedly trying to get comfortable. I wondered how J K Rowling would handle this sort of situation. Not because I thought JK Rowling might have pashed her best friend's girlfriend, but more because I haven't made a Harry Potter reference for a while, and that's one of my character things.

After half an hour of restlessness I stumbled to the computer and checked my blog for comments. Nothing. That's the depressing thing about blogs. Pouring your heart out to the world only to receive confirmation that nobody cares.

I added another entry.

Maybe she's not exactly a hoe.

Thirteen

Eleven

2004-12-16T13:43:00.000+10:00

The phone rang after the wind turned from cool to chilled, forcing my retreat to inside.

'Your father came to see you today.'

Mum didn't believe in greetings but she did love to tell me things I already knew. 'Yeah, he left a stupid note.'

'Oh he didn't? How many times do I have to tell him about his notes?'

'A few more million.'

'What did he say?' Her condemnation never dulled her enthusiasm to know exactly what anyone had said or done.

'The usual sort of side swipe. It doesn't matter.'

Silence. I knew it was coming.

'When are you coming to see me?'

Right on time. 'I don't know, Mum. Things are kind of hectic.'

'Things are always hectic.'

I thought of Lisa again. 'Yeah.' I had a feeling hectic was about to be redefined.

At least Mum's in depth description's of Meme's (the cat) bowel problems averted the need for a cold shower. After grunting mindlessly during Mum's infrequent pauses I thought of Lisa and why she had suddenly become such a fascination. Maybe she was the unattainable chick I'd always shunned as a defence.

After I hung up, I blogged.

I just pashed my best friend's girlfriend. Is that bad?

Maybe someone could ease my guilt by empthasizing. It looked kind of bad, just sitting naked by itself, so I elaborated.

She's a hot hoe and she overpowered me.

Well, it was true in a way. I shrugged and went to bed- you can guess what I dreamt.

Twelve

Ten

2004-12-15T10:32:00.000+10:00

'Well,' said Lisa, returning to my pokey living room. 'I'd better be going.'

I nodded, not willing to risk speech. I was relieved she was leaving and nothing had happened, but I was also disappointed. There had to be something more behind her visit.

She wrestled a scrap of paper from her tight-jeans pocket and laid it on the sofa cushion. 'In case you want it.'

I picked up it up, the numbers written in a stylish hand. I wondered for a moment, but of course she lived with Mike.

'Nina's,' she said and very slightly pouted like it wasn't quite fair.

'Right.' I waved the paper in the air. 'Thanks.'

'Will you call her?'

Definitely not. 'Um, maybe.'

'Or has somebody else already got your attention?'

I faked a smile as if that wasn't likely while I wondered how her naked skin would feel pressed against mine.

She turned and I followed her swaying hips all the way to the garage door. I pulled it up and as I straightened I found my face to be just two inches from Lisa's. Her eyes, large and brown stared unblinkingly up at me and her lips parted ever so slightly. She bit the inner edge of her bottom lip and then moistened it with her tongue.

My heart hammered and I ejected Hermione's warning shouts with the rest of my brain processing ability. Lisa moved closer, a big-cat stalking its prey. I stood riveted still by the hypnotic pull of her eyes. Her fragrance drifted over me; an intimate blanket of calm. Her mouth stopped, just millimetres away from mine. My lips tingled with the anticipation of her touch. Curiosity, longing and desire flooded my senses and I completed the journey of our lips, pushing gently down.

Her tongue entered my mouth. I failed to respond, expecting... I don't know... a first kiss, gentle, uncertain. She pulled away, her magnetic eyes searching my face for what was wrong. The sudden absence of her touch made me ache for more and I pulled her into me, sharing her taste as she had mine.

Her lips were soft, sweet but strong, her kiss, more alluring the longer it lasted. Her body melted into mine, her back curving into my embrace. Her skin, soft as dew laden grass, radiated an inner fire demanding to be unleashed. Her hair, thick and luscious spilled over my roaming hand that finally settled on the satisfying curve of her butt cheek.

I don't know how long it lasted. It seemed too short but we knew it had been too long. I didn't know what to say as I stood there with my thumb caressing her cheek. It seemed Lisa didn't either. She cupped my hand and kissed it then let it slide away from her. She backed her way down the driveway as I braced myself against the bricks. She waved once and gave a smile, an odd mix of joy, confusion and sadness.

I stood there, long after she had gone. The slight breeze chilling the feel of her wet lips still fresh on my face. A kiss like that… I couldn't live the rest of my life without more, but how could I live with myself if I got them?

It squelched like doo doo.

Eleven

Nine

2004-12-14T13:34:00.000+10:00

I was still stewing later that evening when there was a tap on my door. I pulled the curtain back. Lisa waved to me, there was no sign of Mike. I pointed to the garage and she nodded.

I ducked through the kitchen and into the garage and opened the roll-a-door.

'Hey,' I said, wondering why she was here.

'I brought beer,' she said holding up a six pack.

If she thought the bribe of alcohol would overcome any misgivings about her turning up alone on my door step, she was right. It's not that I mind people dropping in on me - it's happened a few times now. But swaying hips like hers were a passport to trouble and I had just stamped her visa by waving her in; Dumbledore wouldn't have approved.

She handed me the six pack and we parked on opposite ends of my threadbare couch. I opened a bottle and handed it to her. A red mark burnt on her cheek.

'What happened to you?

She shrugged. There was a lack of something, about her. It took me a while to finger it: sleaze. 'You don't wanna know.'

Why do people say that about something potentially interesting? There's never any hesitation to tell boring holiday tales...

'Nina likes you,' she said, her eyebrow arching and her cheeky grin returning. She had a way of sitting kind of forty five degrees and proud that always showed her chest to maximum advantage.

When I stopped thinking about her chest her words registered in my mind. So that was it. A reconnaissance mission. I pulled a second beer from the carton and laid the rest on the floor. 'Sure she does. We didn't swap three words the last hour we sat at the clubhouse.'

'You intimidate her,' said Lisa.

'Huh?'

'That semi-intellectual anti-authority make-your-own-rules kind of thing you've got going on. It's intimidating.'

I never thought of myself like that before. 'You think?'

Lisa took a swig from her bottle and somehow made it a sexual experience.

It made me swallow.

'Sure,' she said, taking her time wiping a dribble of condensation from her chin. 'It's kinda powerful.' She edged a little closer. 'Especially if you're young, like Nina.'

I nodded. Nina... the polar chick. 'Since you mention it, how old is she?'

Lisa smiled, and spelt wicked with her eyes. 'Old enough.'

I had a sudden need for a cool breeze when the phone rang. I leapt up to answer it.

'Hey.'

'Des. Um, I don't s'pose you have, just wondering if you've seen Lisa?'

'Lisa?' The impulse to lie almost overwhelmed me. I felt like I'd been busted, but remembered I wasn't actually doing anything wrong. Well, unless thoughts counted. 'Er, yeah. She dropped in actually.'

'She did?' There was a hint of suspicion in his voice. Mike was a relaxed guy, but he was still a guy - and he knew what other guys were like.

'Yeah, you know - doing the girl thing and finding info out for Nina.'

'Oh, right.'

'I'll get her for you.'

Lisa was right there at my shoulder. She took the phone. 'It's your dreamgirl,' she said into the receiver, but her eyes smouldered at me. I extricated myself from the corner, her heat radiated over me as our bodies brushed.

I went and sculled the rest of my beer.

Ten

Eight

2004-12-13T13:39:00.000+10:00

We were sipping our third ten dollar lemonades in the clubhouse when Mike and Lisa finally ambled in. Mike stared at his feet a fair bit between his bafoon grins and I returned my iced stare. All attempts at polite conversation between Nina and I had died long ago. I had finished fantasizing about the amazingly witty blog fodder I had amassed during the afternoon and I couldn't wait to unleash it.

Lisa pulled an errant leaf out of her bra and dropped it on the carpet while keeping her fake-tinted eyelash bordered eyes stuck on me. She should have known better.

'Saving the trunks for later?'

Her mouth flapped but I grabbed my cap and stalked to the car. After I went back to the clubhouse to get my clubs Mike dropped me home. I sat in front of my computer screen, fingers poised on the keyboard. After ten minutes of nothing I typed "God golf sucks", published, then sought consolement in the refrigerator.

What the hell was Mike thinking? I'm as up for a rumble in the bushes as the next guy, but there's etiquette to be followed when a mate's isn't likely to score too.

Chapter Nine

Seven

2004-12-13T08:07:00.000+10:00

'Do you blog?' I asked.
Nina looked away at the passing trees. 'No.'

So much for that one.

I pulled up at the edge of the fairway and pulled a five iron out of Nina's hire bag. I rested the head on the ground and let the handle angle into my thigh and demonstrated the two handed grip. Nina got it fairly quickly and we moved onto the swing. After sixteen air swings she clubbed the ball somewhere nearer the flag and we eventually hacked our way to the green.

Mike's cart was parked behind the manicured oval of grass but there was no sign of Mike or Lisa. I signalled for the group waiting to tee off to play through and we went in search of our friends.

'Mike! You lost your ball again?'
We heard a giggle coming from the long grass behind a cluster of hedges.
'Not yet,' said Mike. More giggles.

I shook my head. Please don't say it.
'I'm going for a hole in one.'
He said it.
'Mike!' whinged Lisa in mock shock.

'Shall we come over there and watch now or catch it later on the net?' I asked. Nina and I slowly walked away. 'Okkaaaaaaaaaaay, this isn't awkward at all.'

Chapter Eight

Six

2004-12-12T11:18:00.000+10:00

Sorry, you're still stuck on the Hermione Granger thing aren't you? The correct title is the Hermione Granger dilemma. The Hermione Granger Dilemma actually started life as the MTV Deception - the one where male eyes gravitate to the TV screen as a female singer clad in a radio mic and a smile gyrates to manufactured beats. Three days later it is found that the female singer is fourteen years old, who despite having breast enlargements, has refused to eat for six months and lives with her Mum in Idaho. But it's too late, the thoughts have been had, the dreams dreamt...

The Hermione Granger Dilemma - a far more insidious problem, and it began with the casting of Emma Watson in The Philosopher's Stone. It is obvious from Emma's progression from cute little kid in the The Philosopher's Stone to pretty girl in the Prisoner of Azkaban that somewhere before the seventh movie is made she will gravitate to something... more. The dilemma is that there is a sliding scale of acceptability - depending on the viewer’s age and Emma's age. But where is the line between appreciation and legitimate admiration? Wherever the line was, I was worried Nina and I were on opposite sides.

All of this and more streamed through my mind as I teed off, twice. This is probably the explanation for the satisfyingly crisp thwack and resulting two clean strokes down the middle of the fairway. Concentration would have precipitated disaster. I walked away pretending it was normal while Mike threw his most irritated stare.

Mike had teed off with no preceding practice swing and a technique that stemmed from his arse. The result was four balls somewhere around the fairway and a lucky escape from embarrassment for all concerned.

I initiated small talk as we buggied down the slope of the fairway.

Chapter Seven

Five

2004-12-10T16:06:00.000+10:00

Nina ventured a half look at me as we set off. I saluted - I don’t know why, but I’m glad I did because she smiled and displayed a row of perfectly aligned teeth. I never really thought of teeth as being attractive but… eh, go figure. It was cute.

I hugged the inside of each curve until we were almost kissing the arse of Mike’s cart. Mike must have hit the park brake. His cart locked all wheels and slid to a stop. I braked but our buggy’s brake DNA was more Minardi than Ferrari and we slid into the back of Mike.

Fortunately the first tee was directly below the clubhouse balcony so only a hundred or so onlookers noticed.

The first real word Nina spoke to me was, ‘Smooth.’
‘Heh,’ I said like it didn’t bother me. I bowed to the balcony before pulling a three wood, my only wood, from my bag and throwing some limbering air swings.

We joined Mike on the tee and I said to him, ‘So you’ve run over the basics with our academy recruits?’

He sniffed and planted his wooden tee. ‘Nah, not really.’

Nina and Lisa stood off to the side looking like they weren’t sure which end of their clubs to hold. Concepts like rules, explanations, technique, lessons, driving ranges and practice fired through my mind, but I knew Mike wasn’t into details.

I caught Nina’s eye as she pulled her nervous gaze from the peanut gallery. ‘What’s say I hit two off the tea and we call the best shot yours. You can take the first shot out there somewhere.’ I waved around an arc because there was no telling where our next shot would be taken from.

‘That’d be good,’ she said and threw me her ball.

‘Yeah,’ said Lisa. ‘Do that for me, Mike.’

‘The best shot’s mine,’ he replied. Well he didn’t have to try with Lisa.

I wasn’t really trying with Nina, on account of Hermione Granger ringing alarm bells in the back of my head. But I was trying to save her some embarrassment. I remember my first golf strike. After fifteen air swings I yelled my first “Four!” And that was on a driving range.

Chapter Six

Four

2004-12-09T17:44:00.000+10:00

Mike and I paid for our golf round – 18 holes, despite my recommendation for nine, two golf carts, two hire set of clubs for the girls and a healthy dose of wishful thinking. I don’t know if it was chauvinist to pick up the tab for a girl these days or not. Lisa sure wasn’t going to mind, let’s not even think she would be staying around if she had to pay for something, and it seemed Nina was following Lisa’s lead. Either way, no mention of mulla was made.

So even though no one mentioned it, I thought about it. I guessed that made me cheap. I shrugged to myself as we walked around the clubhouse; I’d been called worse things. Lisa and Nina walked behind us swapping secret whispers.

A neat row of angle parked buggies awaited us. Do buggies come in any colour but white? Would a club be disowned from the golf confederation for differentiating it’s buggies with colour? Pft.

I took the nearest one and strapped my half set of clubs into the back storage cubby while wondering if there would be a fistfight about the buggy seating arrangements. I would have been happy to sit with Mike again.

Nina gave Lisa a pitiful expression of plead and longing as she swaggered passed and hopped into Mike’s cart. I smiled at Nina, trying to make her feel at ease but I resisted the temptation to refer to biting. Does anyone bite?

‘Come on then,’ I said, sliding behind the wheel.

Mike zoomed off at 10 kilometres per hour. Golf buggies have two purposes. The legitimate one is of course to save people from exercising during their round. Now I’m all in favour of removing the effort of exercise from any sport. Did I mention I’m thinking of lobbying for chess to be an Olympic sport? But the second and far more enticing purpose, is so that everybody who gets behind the wheel can imagine themselves driving a wild cross between and dune buggy and a formula one car that has been moulded into the shape of a performance box. Ensconced in such a vehicle the driver must careen through the always delightfully twisty trails and tracks of the course at the maximum possible velocity.

Mike wasn’t going to get a free head start.

Chapter Five

Three

2004-12-08T09:19:00.000+10:00

I was sweating through my shirt when Mike knocked on my door. I like hot showers. I threw on my best jumper, not because it was cold, but because it was one of those really soft materials that feels all snugly. I knew my limitations. I wasn't butch and I wasn't a stud, so if there was going to be available cute around, I was shooting for cuddly but without the padding.

So I exit via the garage roll-a-door because it's easier than fighting the always stuck front door. I duck out from under it and Lisa is standing there, busting out of her lycra top and skin tight three quarters in most of the right places. She's got this cheeky grin that manages to say anything you want it to and I found it hard to make it say anything that was appropriate.

'Hey Des,' she said arching an eyebrow and a shoulder. I heard the words she said, but there was a whole other meaning behind them. It took an effort to pull my gaze away from just licked lips and onto the girl hiding unsuccessfully behind her.

The bag-like purple dress billowed out from behind both sides of Lisa making it hard to tell exactly what was inside it.

'This is my friend, Nina,' said Lisa trying to step out of the way.

'Hi,' I said.

It could have been the very first time Nina had ever been outdoors such was the chalky whiteness of her skin. This impression may have been accentuated by the purple bag and Lisa's tan, but I didn't think it likely.

'Hi,' she said through a giggle and scuttled (unsuccessfully) behind Lisa again.

'Ready?' said Mike, coming around from the unanswered front door.

'Yeah, I guess.' I was having serious concerns about Nina's age but I could hardly raise them in front of her and already I was questioning the wisdom of relaxing my no setups rule.

It looked likely the girls were going to get into a fistfight as they tussled over who was going to suffer the indignity of sitting in the back with me so I settled the dilemma for them and hopped in the front. Mike took it in his stride, as he did everything else and we set off into unchartered territory.

Chapter Four

Two

2004-12-07T09:50:00.000+10:00

What do I care anyway?

I’m debating whether to shower or add Dad’s latest effort to my “Crimes of the Parents” blog when the phone rings and saves me the effort of either. It’ll be Mike, Gary or Mum. I know this because I’m mildly psychic, plus they’re the only three people who ever call me - oh, and I have caller i.d.

‘Miiiiiiiiiiiike.’
‘Des?’
I’ve been doing the Miiiiiiiike greeting for two years and he still isn’t sure that it’s me. ‘No, it’s Harry Potter.’ (See how I snuck that in again?)
‘Oh. What are you doing this afternoon?’
‘I’ve got an idea for a new design, and I’m going to do some blogging – and don’t ask me what blogging is again.’ Mike’s the only guy in the country who doesn’t have a computer.
‘Oh. Wanna play golf?’

I like golf, it doesn’t require bruising or sweat. On the negative it is expensive and I’m the definitive hacker. ‘Yeah, I don’t know.’
‘Lisa wants to come and she has a friend that wants to play too.’
‘You’re setting me up?’ It sounded suspiciously like doo doo.
‘Oh, no, just that they wanted to play,’ said Mike.
‘How many times has Lisa played golf?’
‘Er, never.’
Smelled like doo doo. ‘And her friend?’
‘Probably never either, but they want to learn.’
Squelches like doo doo too. ‘I don’t know.’ I’ve never done a blind date thing. I like to check people out before I’m required to spend an allotted space of continuous time with them. Things work out better that way.
‘She’s cute,’ offered Mike into my pregnant silence.

Silence was the only thing I was likely to get pregnant such was my non existent love life, so cute had a larger effect on me than it should have. ‘Is she anything like Lisa?’ I asked.

Lisa is kind of a hotty, but she’s also a ten-timing do-anyone gold-digging hoe, which is fine for a while, as in overnight, but Mike didn’t see it like that. He was on a mission to save her. Fair enough I guess, but I wasn’t that sort of missionary, and I had no interest in becoming one.

‘Well, not really,’ said Mike, sounding a little deflated about it.
‘Ok then.’ I told you cute had a big effect on me.
‘Pick you up in an hour.’

He knew better than to hang on long enough for me to change my mind. I shrugged at the dial tone and looked over at my prehistoric PC. Blogging would have to wait. It’d take an hour to get the stink off me.

Chapter Three

One

2004-12-06T20:08:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I know lots about somethings and sometimes I know nothing about anything and that's when I know most of all. Somebody cool wrote something like that in a poem once. Ok, so it was me. The poem was called (duh), "Sometimes". This story is about me, Des Perrat, but sometimes it might seem like it's not.

You'll see what I mean.

I could tell you all about myself but that'd be boring because things should happen at the beginning of stories. Once stuff is happening the minute pieces of boredem get sneakily inserted so that they are masked in the overall entertainment. Kind of like Harry Potter and the nine and three quarters train platform. Now that wasn't too bad an analogy, but really I just wanted to mention Harry Potter, because any site about Harry Potter gets lots of hits and I want bored people with nothing better to do than play PS or whack off to porn, to read this instead.

See, now right there is characterisation. The Harry Potter stuff shows you I'm sneaky and smart and the porn bit tells you I'm kind of twisted. Well it would be if it were true. I just put it there to shock you. I hope anyone wanting to whack off isn't googling for Harry Potter. (So now you know I'm a liar too).

So I've talked down to you enough for now with all the explanations of how I'm manipulating you while you read this. So here's some story. (Whoops - sorry.)

I finish sticking my head down stranger's toilets one day and I come home to find a note stuffed in my letterbox. It reads something like this:

D,

I guess you still live here? I don't know what you do anymore. It's Xmas soon. I don't know what you want. E-mail me a list and I'll buy you something.

All I want is a normal son.

D

I stack my bucket of equipment and the mop away wondering how long it will take him to accept that he is banned from the typed word and that I won't be e-mailing him anything. I've auto deleted his mails for three years to preserve the feathered strands of my sanity. But he persists.

Since he refuses to use the telephone we only talk if we bump into each other or at compulsory gatherings, like Christmas. An attempted visit is a big event in our relationship, but then if he listened to anything I told him he would have known I work every morning. But then he likes to pretend I don't have a job, cause cleaning toilets isn't good enough for him.

Chapter Two