CHAPTER 21
Jeremy woke to the sound of several alarms blaring through the dark house, and then a corresponding chorus of groaning.
Sam, next to him, fumbled for his phone, which was jauntily screaming at him, while Jeremy did the same, staring at the screen through puffy, slitted eyes.
He could hear Liz downstairs swearing, and Anna shrieking as she failed to locate her phone.
Jeremy’s first mistake, he reflected, was waking up.
His second mistake, he quickly realised, was setting multiple alarms, because his phone was going off again.
He turned it off and checked the time: six thirty-one am – a blighted, nonsense time, suitable only for sinister birds and very sinister bakery workers.
‘Christ, what are we doing?’ Jeremy muttered, the first wave of hangover hitting him right between the eyes, a physical manifestation of regret.
Sam was naked, his face hidden in his pillow, sprawled across the bed as if he’d fallen there from a tall building.
Jeremy pushed him weakly, but was unable to shift his bulk, a reminder of how compact and thick he was.
Jeremy shifted tactics and instead bit Sam on one firm butt cheek.
‘Ow!’ Sam finally rolled over and fixed Jeremy with some red-tinted eyes. ‘Look, it seemed like a good idea last night. We all agreed it was a good idea. We must … go to the reunion.’
‘Which is a full day’s drive from here.’ Jeremy sighed, then bit Sam again, letting his hands run slowly up his legs. ‘We can stay here. We’ve paid for three more nights – let’s just enjoy our holiday.’ He trailed his fingers along the sensitive patch of skin on Sam’s inner thigh.
‘Oh my god, you need to stop,’ said Sam, turning over and showing Jeremy exactly how successful his attempt at convincing him to stay was being. ‘We all decided we’re going to do this, so we’re going to do it. Think of this as the final stage of the campaign, Jeremy. This is it.’
‘But I am tired and nervous and it’s dark ,’ whined Jeremy.
‘I know. But you did let spite motivate you for a long time before this – we need that energy back. Do you need me to motivate you? How about I read some of chapter one?’ He cracked open the still-present copy of Amour No More , and grimly began to read out loud.
‘ Jerome, of course, had no idea. Whilst I stared at another man’s cock, he simply looked at me with those weirdly wet yet vacant eyes . ’
It worked. Jeremy threw himself out of bed and into the shower, furiously turning on the hot water and letting it scald him in his rush. ‘Right, let’s walk through the itinerary again,’ he yelled as he quickly washed.
‘Pack, leave by seven am, get coffee and breakfast on the road. Stop in at our various houses for our outfits, leave, arrive fashionably late after driving all day,’ Sam said, standing in the doorway and looking at the notes app on his phone. ‘Bing bong bang,’ he finished, nonsensically.
‘Okay, that sounds doable,’ Jeremy said, drying himself off. Downstairs, he could hear Anna and Liz putting the kettle on. ‘Oi, no time for that!’ he shouted. ‘Shower and go!’
‘Hmm.’ Sam sounded worried. ‘I have a feeling our drunken two am logistics don’t quite add up, Jeremy. We do not have the time for … any of this.’
Jeremy exited the bathroom, still drying his hair, and looked at the phone Sam offered him, open on the maps app, which showed a long route from the mountains, through the city, then down the south coast. A second, much shorter option bypassed the city.
‘We just don’t have time to stop off and pick up the clothes – it looked feasible at first glance, but we’re guaranteed to hit traffic and we’ll be late.’
‘Shit,’ said Jeremy. ‘I can’t show up in these rags.’ He gestured to his overnight bag full of perfectly lovely casual wear. ‘In fact, I will not show up in these rags.’
‘What’s happening?’ asked Liz and Anna, popping their heads around the corner. Sam yelped and flung himself into the now vacant bathroom, hands covering his genitals. Jeremy explained, a towel wrapped around him, indicating for his friends to go back downstairs so he could get dressed too.
‘Maybe we could stop at an op shop or something,’ Liz suggested, who loved op shops and brought them up as a solution to most problems.
‘God no – I’m not showing up looking and smelling like a deceased grandfather,’ Jeremy said dismissively. ‘This is a nightmare. I was meant to look fabulous.’
‘Well – perhaps this is part of being the bigger man, Jeremy,’ Sam said, reappearing wrapped in a towel, apparently able to shower in under a minute like some sort of army man. ‘Perhaps turning up and not caring about your outfit will show Miles how secure and unintimidated you are?’
‘Yeah, perhaps,’ Jeremy answered distractedly.
‘Or perhaps he’ll think I’m some kind of magical chimneysweep who loves to tap dance, because I look like a magical chimneysweep.
’ He was looking at the second, achievable route, and realised that, with only a brief detour eastwards once they’d cleared Sydney, it could take them very near somewhere familiar.
‘Sam – what if we stopped here?’ he said, pointing at the map. ‘Would we still have time?’
Sam stepped in closer, smelling clean and soapy, and Jeremy couldn’t help enjoying the smell of Sam underneath it. ‘Yeah, I think so, if we were quick. Why? What’s there?’
‘Oh, just somewhere I happen to know will have a lot of men’s suits.’ Jeremy chuckled delightedly. ‘Let’s move!’
Jeremy had never been in a heist before, so he could only imagine that driving to a casino to steal millions of dollars would have the same energy as their drive down the mountains that day.
They moved like a team of commandos: grimly efficient, words sparse and economical and limited to matters of logistics.
Sure, Liz trailed cigarettes and headphones and a jar of honeyed almonds from her purse like a desert rat leaving droppings, and sure, Anna accidentally ordered an almond milk mocha from a regional cafe, costing them an extra five minutes as the staff repeatedly burned the milk, but comparatively, they were quick and efficient.
He honestly believed that together, the three of them would be late to their own funerals.
They didn’t speak much in the car. Sam put on some indie rock from the 2000s, claiming ‘it always got him hyped’, which Jeremy found incredibly endearing.
Liz and Anna were squished into the back of his tiny compact car, a situation that was swiftly driving Liz into a bad mood, ameliorated only partially by Sam allowing her to smoke out the window, her head so far out she looked like a dog.
‘I’m sorry, I assumed you both drove here,’ Sam said again.
‘Absolutely not. We’re city gals,’ Anna said. ‘We’re just like Sex and the City except I go to bed at ten pm.’
‘We caught the train,’ Liz yelled, her words whipped away by the wind. ‘A small child stared at me the whole time.’
‘How are you feeling, handsome?’ Sam asked Jeremy after a while.
Jeremy had been staring out the window, trying not to think about the fact that he was about to see Miles again after so many years. ‘Scared,’ he admitted, giving Sam a shaky smile. ‘I feel … not ready. It feels like anything could happen.’
‘Just remember that, at worst, he might be mean to you. There will be people everywhere, so he’s not going to … attack you. I’m not saying it will be easy, but all you have to do is turn up and show you don’t give a shit,’ Sam advised.
‘Yep, be the bigger man. I will be the hugest man. Massive. All shall tremble.’
‘Darling, honestly, you’ll be doing me a favour.
They’re taking up so much space in my closets,’ said Jeremy’s mother as she greeted them at the door of her apartment.
‘I don’t know what it is about ex-husbands that makes them think it’s okay to leave suits behind.
I must have one from every decade. Come in, all of you.
Sam, a delight to see you again in particular. ’
Sam kissed Maria on the cheek, already exclaiming how beautiful the house was, complimenting her new gold earrings, and generally being a perfect boyfriend.
Unbidden, Jeremy remembered that the last time he’d seen Sam’s parents, he’d berated them through the medium of Birthday Speech – that was going to be a fun relationship to navigate in the future.
Everybody did a quick bathroom stop, and after Jeremy reiterated how much of a hurry they were in, Maria stopped trying to feed them almond biscotti and tea, instead taking them into the study, which had plenty of wardrobes.
‘Okay, first husband is here,’ she said, ‘which would be useful if you wanted a tent. Graham was all shoulders and barrel chest, just like the cartoon gorilla from that game Jeremy used to play. Never marry a muscular man, girls – they always sacrifice something for that beautiful bulging body, and in my experience it’s the size of either their balls or their brains. For Graham, it was both.’
Liz went looking through this wardrobe, pulling out a full midnight corduroy suit. ‘This is sick . Could I try it on, Mrs Jeremy?’ she asked.
‘By all means! It’s the perfect colour for you, but I doubt those pants will fit. We’ll find something for all of you, I just know it. You’re going to look wonderful at this wedding.’
‘Reunion,’ Jeremy reminded her.
‘Yes, that too,’ she answered.
The second wardrobe was flung open, but there only a couple of plastic-covered outfits were hung.
‘These are Jeremy’s father’s. He only left one suit behind, probably because he needed to look fancy for his new family,’ Maria said, slipping easily into old bitterness. ‘But it would fit you,’ she said to Jeremy. ‘You are both string beans.’