Tigerland (31 page)

“Oh.”

“Well?” Dec asked impatiently. “Have you seen it?”

There was no getting around this now. “Coby bought a copy, and I pinched it off him. You didn’t go downstairs and buy one, did you?”

“I didn’t have to. Mrs. Gupti brought one around just after you left.”

“Of course she did,” I fumed. “Why on earth would she do that?”

“She was very nice about it, actually. She said we might want to see it.”

“That woman’s always hated me.”

“You’re paranoid,” Dec said, as gently as he possibly could.

“No, I’m not. Ever since she thought I called the cops out on her when she had that housewarming party.”

“It was a grave injustice,” Dec said, his tone changing now into one not unlike a voiceover for a movie preview probably involving fresh out of law school lawyers and their mob clients.

“Don’t make fun of me! I was the one practically hanging out our door hoping for an invite. The food smelled so good, and I was hoping there might be some impromptu Bollywood number we could join in on.”

“Have you ever thought maybe she dislikes you because you think of her as a walking stereotype?”

I knew it! “So she does hate me!”

“No, she d—” Dec sighed, realising he had been caught up in my delusion. “Anyway—”

“She probably feels sorry for you because I supposedly stole you away from the love of your life. Maybe she’s hoping that article will make you come to your senses.”

“She does not.”

“Did she also show up with a present of packing boxes, just in case?”

“Simon….”

“Maybe next time she’ll bring over Heyward wrapped in a nice big bow. And nothing else.”

“Now you’re making me sick.”

“Obviously you weren’t at the time, or else you wouldn’t have slept with him.”

I knew I was blundering across the minefield with that one, and I waited for my leg to be blown off. Luckily, Dec must have been counting to ten in his head, remembering that often when I said stupid things it was because I was covering up my own hurt or blah blah blah insert some Oprah bullshit here.

The silence lasted a bit too long. “Uh, Dec?”

Finally, he answered. “Greg Heyward is
not
the love of my life. And if you don’t shut up, you won’t be either.”

Relieved, I continued on through the minefield, hoping I would reach the other side unscathed. “That is so romantic, Declan Tyler. You gave me the moon, the stars, and the half-insulting compliments.”

“Oh, frig, you’re in a right mood.”

“Because I’ve moved on from bitter and twisted to bitter and flippant. Everybody better stay out of my way because I’m steamrollering my way through this town, powered on snark.”

“And Melbourne was left in a pile of rubble,” Dec said in his preview voiceover again.

“Damn right,” I said. “If I’m going down, I’m taking everybody with me.”

“I worry about you.”

“Want to meet me for lunch?”

Surprisingly, he did. He was a keeper.

“M
Y
MUM
thinks you’re about to leave me.”

I almost choked on my pizza. “What?”

We were sitting in my office, sprawled on the couch, not wanting to step into the outside world. Luckily having an assistant was great for these types of situations, as you could make them run down to the one dollar slice store and pick you up lunch.

“She said, and I quote, ‘He has to put up with so much. One day he might just not be able to take it anymore.’”

“Wow, does she not know what you have to put up with from me?”

“That’s what I said!”

We both laughed, although Dec a little more than me.

“I know what she meant, though.” Dec stared at his slice of Hawaiian as if it was something he had never seen before.

I didn’t want to go through this same old argument again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.”

“Unless you’re coming with me.”

“Even better.”

I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes when his arm came down around my shoulder. “Yeah. It sounds pretty good to me too.”

O
VERWROUGHT
parental issues aside, we managed to skirt through the rest of the day avoiding the media except for a brief skirmish outside our car park door again.

“This is getting boring,” I told Dec.

“I agree.”

Our Friday night was spent partying, if by “partying” you mean “having to talk to everybody on the phone and convince your mother-in-law you’re not about to do a midnight run on her golden child.”

“Do you think I seem that flighty to your family?” I asked Dec after I got off the phone to his mum.

“No. They’re just worried about us. They know it’s pretty stressful.”

That was putting it mildly. We avoided the television, as we knew Heyward would probably be on the news, and ended up putting on a DVD which we both fell asleep in front of. We like to rock hard.

The next day over breakfast I felt like a prisoner awaiting execution. I knew at some point during the Midsumma festivities we would probably run into Heyward. The powers that be wouldn’t be that kind to allow us to avoid him all night. As king of the festival he would surely be at the film festival premiere. I only wished he was actually King of Moomba, because then there was a chance we could put him in a badly constructed airplane and push him off a plank into the Yarra.

At least we would have our faithful posse to support us—Abe, Lisa, Fran, and Roger had all agreed to go. But I think that had more to do with Coby ringing them up and threatening them with bodily harm if he didn’t see them there. I was actually touched he was willing to let us stay at home rather than be in the same space as Heyward, although I wondered what his reaction actually would have been had we said we weren’t going.

That night I dressed as if going into battle. My twelve-hole Doc Martens with the steel caps, laced up all the way to the top, ready for an arse kicking. The cargo pants with more pockets than humanly imaginable so all weapons could be concealed… uh, like my wallet, phone, and keys. Black, slightly hipster-ish jumper bought from an opshop.

“You look like you’re ready to break into a government facility to rescue bunnies from a lab,” Declan said when I emerged from the bedroom.

“Really?” I asked, looking down at my all-black ensemble. “I thought I just looked like a true Melbournite.”

Dec snorted. “That too.”

“Black hides blood.”

“Fantastic,” Dec drawled. “You’re going to be trouble tonight. I can tell.”

“I’m going to be on my best behaviour,” I promised.

And I was. It was just that circumstances worked against me.

T
HIS
year the opening of Midsumma was spread along the east side of the banks of the Yarra, just behind Federation Square. Large gazebos had been erected as designated drinking and dancing areas, and the forecourt of the Square had also been roped off for that occasion.

That was where we found the others, already getting stuck into champagne.

“What’s the big deal?” Dec asked, throwing himself down on the steps beside Abe.

“They’ve been waiting for you to get here,” Roger said.

“This might not be the best timing,” Lisa said, her eyes full of mischief.

“But maybe we could all use some good news,” Abe cut in.

Their act was all very mysterious and cute, but everyone was too impatient, and the two of them were drowned by protest.

“We’ve decided,” Lisa said, “to, uh, formally live together. Forever.”

There was a silence as everybody digested that.

“Do you mean married?” Fran asked.

“Yes, that’s the word.” Abe started pouring champagne for Dec and me into plastic tumblers, which were the height of class.

Protests turned to congratulations, then more questions.

“But you guys weren’t even officially ‘back together’,” Roger said.

“We were,” Abe said. “To ourselves.”

“We had to make sure,” Lisa added.

“It didn’t take that long to make sure,” Dec pointed out.

“We pretty much already knew before.” Abe grinned.

“I don’t think I’ll believe it until I hear both of you say the word you’re trying to avoid,” I said.

“What word?” Lisa asked.

“The
m
word. Go on, both of you say it.”

“Fine,” Lisa said, looking at Abe and rolling her eyes.

“We’re getting married!” they said in a mockingly serious unison.

“They said the
m
word,” Dec whispered aside to me. “Now it’s official.”

“Yep, it sure is.”

“One day,” Dec said, and he didn’t have to say any more.

“One day,” I repeated, hoping like hell it would happen.

We drank the champagne, and it was so cheap and nasty we were sloshed almost immediately.

“It’s going to be tiny,” Lisa said. “Tiny tiny tiny.”

This made Roger and I howl inappropriately, and Fran to whack us both.

“She is
not
casting aspersions on my manhood,” Abe said.

“No, your manhood’s okay,” Lisa said, patting him on the arm.

“Okay?” he demanded, but she ignored him.

“We want to do it pretty quickly, and it’s only going to be very close friends and family. Neither of us wants a huge wedding.”

Dec leaned in to Abe and asked, “Are you guys pregnant?”

Abe laughed. “No, in love.”

“That’s great,” Dec said, and they hugged it out.

A camera flash erupted, and we all turned, stunned, to see Jasper Brunswick standing on the steps above us, having appeared out of nowhere like a Disney villain.

“Not another gay outing for the AFL?” Jasper asked, letting his camera hang freely from his neck.

Dec and I both jumped up, although I think Dec was doing it to restrain me as he didn’t know what I might do.

“I wouldn’t seek the attention,” Abe said coolly. “Not like some.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Jasper asked. “It could be added to the paperback edition of the book.”

“Oh my God,” I said. “You really think you’re the Kitty Kelley of Australia, don’t you?”

Everybody looked at me blankly.

“Okay, the Rita Skeeter?”

Still no response.

“I know you bastards have seen
Harry Potter
!”

I still didn’t think my analogy was getting through to them, so I turned back to Jasper. “Give me that camera.”

“Really?” Jasper sneered.

“Give me that camera, or I’ll throw it in the Yarra. With you still attached to it.”

“Call off your yappy little poodle, Declan,” Jasper said.

Now it was Dec advancing on Jasper, who panicked and jumped back. Forgetting there were steps behind him, he lost his balance and fell against them. He stared up at Declan, who then offered a hand to help him up.

“Forget it.” Jasper got to his feet without assistance, his pride wounded. “Simon, can I talk to you alone, please?”

“Sorry. I’m done
yapping
at you.”

Jasper shrugged. “Your loss.”

Exasperated, I looked at Dec to see what he thought.

He shrugged. Some help.

“Don’t give him the satisfaction,” I heard Roger say.

I shrugged. “It’ll be my response that gives him any kind of satisfaction.”

Dec sank back down onto his step. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I’ll be cool,” I said, jumping up the stairs to reach Jasper.

“Not here,” Jasper said, well aware that the eyes of my friends were all upon him.

He led me to the back of one of the tents. Shadows of people danced upon the canvas, lit from within. It was a pretty surreal backdrop.

“What do you want, Jasper?” I asked.

“No hello, then? It has been a while since we last saw each other.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to stand there and pretend that we should be civil to each other? Give me a fucking break.”

“You always have to be so antagonistic!”

“Can you blame me?”

“I’m just doing a job.”

I was almost ready to shoot back a response that would have Godwin-ed me, but I held it back. “That’s your reasoning?”