Wednesday Night…

          Gina looked over at the clock and discovered to her horror that it was only 11:30pm and already she was exhausted. She miserably switched off the television and padded into her bedroom where she dropped a box of tissues and several packets of lozenges onto Paul’s side of the bed before climbing beneath the covers of her own.
          She lay there a moment feeling listless but couldn’t relax and sat up to blow her nose and groan over dramatically. She was miserable, not just because her flu or Paul’s abandonment, no she was feeling mighty sorry for herself because Danny had obviously been distracted by the buxom brunette and not reappeared to be her nursemaid or return her car.
          Gina sniffed as she grabbed a book from the bedside table and tried to focus her attention of the rather uninspired chick-lit fluff that constituted as stories for modern women but was actually just another lame love story with weak willed pathetic women. Gina quickly realised that reading such tripe was making her feel increasingly miserable and teary and placed it back on the bedside table. She gave out a long, painful cough and decided that as sleep wasn’t about to happen she’d distract her tired mind with a crossword.

          Paul staggered into his hotel room and fell unceremoniously onto the bed. He was absolutely knackered after the early morning and unnaturally busy day. Most of that being segmented into fending off calls from his mother who was trying to pin him down for an exact time when he’d be arriving, kicking himself for being a dickhead, and browsing over the autocue which he kept stuffing up because his mind was full of too many other things.
          He fished his mobile phone from his pocket and hunted out Gina’s number. If he didn’t call her he’d be stuck with a growing feeling of guilt in his chest and never get a wink of sleep. Actually, he was getting the feeling that despite his desire, sleep would not be forthcoming.
          Paul rolled onto his back and pressed the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring. “Please answer, please answer, don’t hate me…”
          “Mmm?”
          “Genie?”
          “What?”
          “Are you ok?” Paul gasped, surprised by the croakiness of the voice on the other end.
          “I’ve got your fucking flu,” Gina coughed miserably. “I feel like shit.”
          “Oops,” Paul said half heartedly and then covered the mouth piece on the phone. “Idiot, idiot, idiot,” he cussed smacking himself in the head with the end of the phone. “You’ve upset her and made her sick now.”
          “How’s Canberra?”
          “Canberrish,” Paul chided, slightly breathless. “It’s always weird coming back here, it just feels…odd.”
          “Maybe it just makes you feel like you’re home,” Gina suggested and Paul could hear her blow her nose.
          “Nah, only place that feels like home is with you.”
          “Now you’re just sucking up,” Gina cough-giggled.
          “Hey, I feel bad I’ve given you the dreaded lurgy,” Paul sighed, deciding not to broach the other subject of his not inviting her along. “And I can’t even be there to look after you like you did for me.”
          “I’ll say,” Gina teased sleepily. “Bastard.”
          “I’ll make it up to you somehow,” he offered warmly. “We’ll go up the Coast or something where it’s warmer and hang out on the beach, that’ll make you feel better.”
          “Yes, the salt water can replace the phlegm in my lungs.”
          “You don’t fancy a holiday in the sun?”
          “Will you wear speedos?”
          “Babe, would you really want to see me in speedos?”
          Gina broke into laughter which ended in a coughing fit. “Oh god, don’t give me images like that.”
          “I rather like the image of you all tanned in a little bikini.”
          “That’s so not going to happen.”
          “Oh go with it,” Paul pleaded. “I’m stuck in a hotel room in Canberra, I need something.”
          “Do you really think you deserve something?” Gina asked coyly.
          Paul sat up quickly, oh god, she was still angry with him for not inviting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he said hastily opting for denial as the best solution.
          “For giving me the flu,” Gina mused and sniffed as if to accentuate the point. “I’m not at all happy about it.”
          Paul closed his eyes and sunk back down onto the bed. “Thank fuck.”
          “What?” Gina said confused by Paul’s sudden rash of happiness. “Why are you thanking fuck?”
          “Huh? Oh, just checking my schedule, I get to sleep in until nine,” he lied. “And if it’s any consolation I feel awful about making you sick.”
          “And you’re not even here to buy me a colouring book,” Gina chided, still unconvinced but not having the energy to argue the matter further.
          “I’ll bring you one back from here,” Paul promised. “Anyway, I should go and let you rest.”
          “You don’t have to,” Gina said in a voice that was disgustingly desperate and made Paul feel even worse.
          “I should, my phone is nearly flat.”
          “Ok, will you call me tomorrow?”
          “I’ll try but I’m pretty run off my feet but between interviews and rehearsals I will be thinking of you in that bikini.”
          “I’m touched, no, really I am.”
          Paul winced at is reflection in the dresser mirror, hell she was still angry with him. This was going to take drastic measures and he watched his expression change to one of innocence. “If, if it’d make you feel better right, I could sing a little bit down the phone to you.”
          “A little bit of what?”
          “Love always seemed an illusion to me I could never make things fit but now that thought turned around cause everything feels so right…“
          “Aww”
          “You see I met you on this big day I saw your face and got filled with emotion so now the sky seems a different blue cause I know my heart belongs to you…”
          “This is lame!”
          “Ohh Gina, could you look at me once more before you walk out of that door, ohh Gina, just wanna look you in the eye cause I can’t stand sayin’ goodbye…”
          “Please stop,” Gina begged through more cough-giggles.
          ‘Phew, she’s happy again,” Paul thought as he gave a relieved giggle. “I really have to go now.”
          “And we know how you just can’t stand saying goodbye.”
          “Do you want me to just hang up on you.”
          “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
          “Yeah, yeah,” Paul sighed wearily. “Love you, hope you feel better in the morning.”
          “You too and good luck with the show.”
          “I’ll need it, have you ever tried to make science interesting?”
          “I’ve made politics interesting.”
          “Hey, so have I!”
          “Will you just shut up and go?”
          “Oh now you want me to leave…”
          “PAUL!” Gina yelped and then was greeted by the dial tone. “Idiot,” she giggled, lobbing her phone onto the other side of the bed and snuggling back down.
          Paul ran his hands over his face and yawned. The knot of guilt in his chest was alleviated but still nagging slightly however apologising for the rest of his stupidity would have to wait until he got home or on a beautiful sandy beach where there were people and she couldn’t attack him with large church candles.

          Thursday…

          Paul stood on the doorstep of his parents house, his childhood home, feeling dishevelled and edgy. He could have walked straight in if he’d wanted but for some reason it seemed improper just to waltz into a house he barely visited. If he did there was no end to the possibilities of what he could walk in on. Paul was jolted back from unsavoury images of his parents and a bottle of canola oil as the door opened and his mother appeared smiling broadly.
          “Hey Mum,” Paul grinned, feeling himself revert straight back to a ten year old. He stepped forward and wrapped her up in a hug as he tried to avoid pointing out that she looked older, she really did, which was something he hated to admit.
          “How’s my little boy?” Betty perked, bustling her son inside.
          “Great,” he enthused and then stopped. “Actually I’m just getting over the flu.”
          “Oh you poor thing,” Betty soothed. “There’s a lot of it going around.”
          “I know, I gave it to my girlfriend which probably wasn’t a good move,” Paul chuckled as he sat himself on the couch an instantly relaxed as about a million childhood memories came flooding back.
          “Jo’s back?” his father John piped up, seeming surprisingly hopeful.
          “Huh?” Paul breathed, realising that he was thinking about watching Batfink instead of paying attention to his parents. “Jo? Oh no, well yes she’s back but we broke up.”
          “There’s a surprise,” his mother mumbled as she descended into the kitchen to make tea.
          “So how are you guys?” Paul grinned in an attempt to change the subject since his relationship status seemed, as usual, to be a sore point.
          “Oh no, you don’t get out of it that easily young man,” Betty scorned, placing a plate of biscuits on the coffee table. “What’s this one like?”
          “You make it sound like she’s a new pet.”
          “She might as well be with the way you keep ‘em,” Paul heard his mother mumble from somewhere deep in the fridge.
          “This one is different,” Paul huffed, looking to his father. “Really she is.”
          “Oh yes, trapeze artist is she?” Betty queried, reappearing with a tray laden with a teapot, mugs and other items necessary for the making and consuming of hot beverages.
          “Mum!” Paul gasped, realising that his parents were more cynical of his lifestyle than he’d ever noticed previously. “Genie, Gina is nothing like any girl I’ve ever dated.” His parents looked at him blankly as they waited for a further explanation. “Well for a start she’s a journalist.”
          “Oh Pauly, you know what happened last time when you fraternised with the media,” Betty sighed, handing him a mug of tea.
          “Genie is different ok,” Paul said quickly before anyone could cut him off with more opinions. “She’s doesn’t drink, non-smoker, hates the nightlife and she’s so domestic. Mum, this woman’s ability to clean a bathroom would make you proud. She cooks too and even does the washing the old fashion way by hanging it on the line.” Paul puffed out his chest and smiled wryly. “Go on, criticise me now.”
          “Why on earth would a woman like that want you?” Betty gasped, snatching up a biscuit to dip in her tea.
          Paul’s chest deflated. “I don’t know.”
          “I think you’ve done well son,” his father John nodded. “Finally.”
          “You should have brought her along,” Betty said, pursing her lips. “If she’s as great as you make out…”
          “She wanted to meet you, she did but I kinda missed the signals and now I owe her a trip to Queensland,” Paul pouted, feeling even more miserable. He grabbed several chocolate biscuits from the plate on the table when what he really wanted was a beer.
          “Serves you right,” Betty sighed, finishing her biscuit. “Maybe she’ll leave you for a nice accountant with an expensive car.”
          “Mum!”
          “Well, no offence darling but a good woman like that,” Betty soothed, squeezing her son’s hand. “She’s not really going to stick around for long is she?”
          “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Paul frowned, taking a large bite from one of the chocolate biscuits. “So, how are you two? Had any interesting doctors appointments recently?”

          Thursday Evening…

          Bored with trying to sleep and get well, Gina had eventually changed into tracksuit pants and one of Paul’s jumpers before she went on a cleaning binge as there was nothing left to do as Danny hadn’t shown up with her car. Not that she should really drive doped up on cough medicine but that was hardly the point.
          After giving the bathroom a thorough scrubbing, dusting the living room and doing a load of washing Gina lay prostrate on the couch, stupidly exhausted.
          “Ok, so maybe that was a bad idea,” she groaned, slapping a palm on her forehead to see if she was burning up. Gina was jolted out of self pity by a knock at the door. She pulled herself up from the couch and staggered over to open the door.
          “Oh honey you look terrible,” Amanda gasped, making her way inside with a bunch of flowers.
          “And to think I was feeling all supermodel too,” Gina sarced as the flowers were thrust into her arms along with her car keys.
          “They’re not from me,” Amanda declared and unceremoniously flopped into an armchair.
          “Where’s Dan?” Gina asked, leaving the flowers and keys on the coffee table and snatching up a vase on her way into the kitchen.
          “Out with a buxom brunette,” Amanda replied. “Called Sandy of all things.”
          “Wait,” Gina mused, reappearing with the vase. “Danny and Sandy?”
          “Yeah,” Amanda nodded before they both sang “Tell me more, tell me more…”
          “That’s just tragic,” Gina coughed, sitting on the couch and picking up the flowers again. “Wish I could smell these.”
          “They’re gorgeously expensive,” Amanda enthused. “Oh read the card.”
          “Card, oh…” Gina smiled and picked out the small card that was crammed between a couple of flowers she couldn’t begin to name. The card was small with a tacky cupid on the front. “I’m an idiot,” Gina giggled at the only three words that were scrawled.
          “Isn’t that adorable,” Amanda gushed, beaming.
          “So you’ve read it then?”
          Amanda looked guilty for a second. “I’m just reciprocating your facial gestures upon reading it.”
          “Liar,” Gina mused as she unwrapped the flowers and slipped them into the vase.
          “So why is he an idiot?” Amanda asked and Gina could tell she was just bursting to know.
          “Because he gave me the flu,” Gina replied, deciding that she would keep what she believed to be the real reason to herself.
          “That's all?" Amanda frowned. “I was hoping he might have done something more noteworthy.”
          “I think filling my lungs with mucus is pretty noteworthy.”
          “Ew, how did you ever get a man? Especially that one?”
          “I think it had something to do with our burgeoning family of phlegm children,” Gina mused as Amanda looked at her oddly. “What? You try taking Sudafed and then breathing in bleach and see how much sense you make.”
          “Why were you breathing in bleach?” Amanda asked blankly.
          “I was cleaning the bathroom,” Gina replied, blowing her nose into a tissue.
          “Do you ever rest?” Amanda sighed. “I mean you’re never going to shake off your cold if you don’t rest.”
          “What are you, my mother?” Gina huffed, crossing her arms roughly causing her to cough.
          “Would you oppose me if I sent you to bed?” Amanda groused, raising an eyebrow and Gina sunk back into the couch.
          “Er no.”

          “Goodnight Canberra!” Paul declared as the music kicked in and everyone took to hugging and shaking hands with everyone else. After realising he was hugging Mikey for the fifth time, Paul made his way off stage and was greeted by Ted.
          “Great work McDermott,” he enthused and slapped Paul on the back.
          “I’m always great,” Paul chided as he disentangled himself from his lapel mike and handed it to one of the crew.
          “I’ll buy you a drink back at the hotel,” Ted grinned as he hurried off to god only knew where.
          Paul wandered on his own back to his dressing room and took a relieved breath as he closed the door. The show was over for another week, now all he had to do was get up at the crack of dawn for his radio gig and then he could get back to Gina. He slid his unbuttoned jacket off and draped it over a chair, then proceeded to remove his waist coat, tie and cuff links before he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.
          “Are you naked?” Mikey’s voice chided as he knocked on the door but opened it anyway.
          “Yes,” Paul replied with mock seriousness as Mikey strode in.
          “That wasn’t a bad show tonight little fella.”
          “No, it’s amazing how smutty we can actually make science,” Paul grinned. “And it’s always a joy to make politicians mime phallic objects.”
          “And Julie only managed three reference to her breasts.”
          “Much the pity,” Paul sniggered and then paused as Mikey started fishing around in his mouth before pulling out his podgy finger.
          “I had orange confetti in my mouth!” he declared aghast as a damp bit of confetti sat on his finger tip.
          “At least you didn’t get singed in ‘Buzzers of Death’,” Paul countered, motioning to the singe marks on his pants.
          “At least you didn’t melt your pubes again,” Mikey grinned and nudged him.
          “That’s true,” Paul agreed before they looked at each other and cracked up.
          “You coming for a drink?” Mikey asked as he loosened his tie.
          “Well, I wouldn’t say I was that desperate…” Mikey rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll change, call Genie and then Ted’s buying the first round.”
          “You dirty, dirty little man,” Mikey sighed as he headed for the door. He paused and looked at Paul, shook his head again and left.
          Paul sniggered as he fished his phone out from his bag and was surprised to see he had several voice messages. He sunk into a chair and dialled his messagebank as he looked for something to clean the make-up from his face.
          “….first message was received at 8:30pm….Why aren’t you answering your phone? I might’ve wanted to tell you something really important like world peace has been declared and all the kiddies in Ethiopia have got fat after the first McDonalds was constructed there offering free Happy Meals and I couldn’t have told you because your damn phone has been switched off. Oh wait, your doing your little show aren’t you? I apologise, you actually have an intelligent reason to ignore me other than being too hungover to make it to the phone. Anyway, Mr Stinky, me, you and the guitarist will have to get together sometime soon. I don’t actually want to see you but I’ve heard from my sources, well Rich, that you’ve got a new woman and I have to meet her. Anyone willing to share their life with you needs to be informed of what they’re letting themselves in for. I shall bring those Polaroids from Belgium. Au revoir…”
          “Ferguson you’re such a fuckwit,” Paul giggled as the electronic voice clicked on for the next message.
          “Hey hon, I’ve just spent several hours trying to get rid of Amanda who brought over the gorgeous flowers you sent me. Although, according to her they’re worth nearly as much as my car and we will be having words about gift expenditure when you get home. Lovely gesture but they’re foliage for Christ’s sake, next time a $10 supermarket bunch will be fine. Anyway, I’m going to bed to try and heal a bit. Love you, missing you and please don’t come home with a hangover. I need you fit to wait on me hand and foot…”
          Paul felt himself smiling and looked up into the mirror to confirm his suspicions. Damn he was way too much in love to be healthy, or maybe it was healthy. He felt pretty good despite giving Gina the flu, not inviting her and having to wait another night before he could be back with her. He was jolted from his reflection by the sound of his mother’s voice on the last message. He decided that his dear, aged mother could wait and ended the call. Paul looked back at his reflection and started to laugh, he was without a doubt and beyond stage make-up glowing. Mikey was right and while it had taken him nearly forty years it was worth the wait. As he got to his feet and started to undress he realised that he was actually incredibly excited about getting home to Gina the next day and it made him laugh more.
          “She’s the one, she’s actually the one,” he grinned at his own reflection.

          Friday Morning…

          I need your arms around me,
          I need to feel your touch,
          I need your understanding,
          I need your love so much
          You tell me that you love me so
          You tell me that you care
          But when I need you
          Baby you’re never there

          Gina opened one eye and glared at her radio that was playing the latest song from Cake. It was annoyingly mocking, especially with her blocked up nose and cough but on the upside her sore throat seemed to have abated. She let out a long sigh and leaned back into the pillows to wait for Paul to come on.

          On the phone long, long distance
          Always through such strong resistance
          First you say you’re too busy
          I wonder if you even miss me
          Never there
          You’re never there
          You’re never, ever, ever there

          Paul paused mid doodle and looked at Mikey. “Is there a reason we’re playing this song?”
          “It’s very popular at the moment,” Mikey shrugged and Paul frowned unconvinced.
          “Why wait until now to play it then?”
          “Because more people will tune in when you’re on.”
          “I don’t believe you.”
          Mikey fought a grin. “I don’t know what you’re getting all girlie about.”

          Take the time to get to know me
          If you want me why can’t you just show me
          We’re always on this rollercoaster
          If you want me why can’t you get closer?

          “You don’t happen to think the lyrics are just a little coincidental?” Paul asked, raising an eyebrow.
          Mikey bit his lip and looked deliberately guilty, “No.”
          “Coincidental in relation to what?” Jen asked, reappearing after a quick trip to secure more coffee.
          “Nothing,” Paul groused, burying himself in his doodle of Pauline Hanson as a goat.
          “Paul gave his girlfriend the flu and then abandoned her,” Steve piped up from the other end of the desk.
          “Yeah, thanks for sharing mate,” Paul groused, glancing over at the hoards of drunken university students who had turned out to witness radio in the flesh. He wasn’t entirely sure what the crowds of young people drinking beer at 7:30am said about the future of the country but it was far more entertaining than it should be.
          “Oh the mysterious Gina,” Jen mused. “Are we ever gonna meet her?”
          “I’ve met her,” Mikey perked, sipping his own beer.
          “What’s she like?” Jen asked curiously.
          “Too good for him,” Steve chuckled as the hoards started to scream louder. Paul looked up, shook his head and then roared into the microphone which only caused the half-tanked women to scream louder.
          “Are you ready for The Pants?” Mikey yelled and received a yell in reply.The Pants being their radio play - Captain Pants.
          “This never works,” Paul mused, hunting out his script and trying to remember how the hell he did the camp ‘Cabin Boy Twinkle’ voice.
          The music started up and they all sang somewhat in unison, Paul the only one with any vocal ability. “Captain Pants, Captain Pants, a tale of seamen and romance!”

          By the time Paul was reading the weather and forcing Mikey and Steve to name suburbs of Canberra as he did so, Gina was eating breakfast in bed and flipping through the paper. She was actually feeling better overall and she wasn’t sure if it was the copious drugs she’d taken or that Paul would be back in just hours. It annoyed her slightly that it felt like he’d been gone weeks when it’d only been a couple of days but still, it was nice to have someone to miss for a change.

          Friday Late-Afternoon…

          Paul danced up the steps to the door of Gina’s apartment, he pulled the key from his pocket and let himself in. His mood dipped when he discovered she wasn’t on the couch waiting eagerly for him. He shoved the keys back into his pocket and hummed to himself as he wandered down the hall and peeked into her bedroom. Gina was curled up on the bed snoring softly; Paul figured she’d probably worn herself out on a mad cleaning binge in preparation of his arrival. He placed the keys gently on the dresser, abandoned his bag and crept onto the bed. He lay down beside her and carefully moved a stray strand of hair from her face.
          “Wakey, wakey, your sugar daddy’s home,” Paul whispered and rubbed his nose softly against hers.
          “Does that mean you brought me chocolate,” Gina smiled as their lips met in a tender kiss. She didn’t bother to open her eyes as her hand sought out his hair to become entwined in.
          “No, because everyone knows you don’t eat chocolate when you’re sick,” Paul mused, moving his lips only long enough to get the words out before they fell into another long kiss. “I did however,” he said breathlessly sitting up, “bring you presents.”
          “Why? What did you do?” Gina perked as she sat up and stretched. Paul leaned over the side of the bed and unzipped his bag.
          “Well, I was thinking that y’know a tea towel would be highly inappropriate as a gift for the woman that I love,” he announced. “But then I realised I was dating you,” he added with a smile and unfurled a cream coloured tea towel with the faces of every Prime Minister of Australia on it.
          Gina giggle-coughed “Y’know, I’ll get some perverse pleasure from the knowledge that I’ll be drying the dishes with Bob Hawke.”
          “I think it’s an irony to put Harold Holt in the washing machine,” Paul chided. “There’s the possibility it might never come back.” Gina laughed harder which made her cough harder and Paul rubbed her back until she managed to breathe again. “You ok?”
          “Yeah,” Gina smiled, red faced and breathless.
          “Well, just keep breathing while I give you your other present ok,” Paul mused as he leaned over and retrieved something else from his bag. “I promised I’d bring one back,” he declared and handed a colouring book to Gina.
          “The Teletubbies,” she giggled and Paul nodded enthusiastically.
          “I figured that since you only need like four colours even an artistically stunted blonde like you could manage it.”
          Gina’s mouth fell open and Paul cracked up. She rolled the book up and smacked him over the head with it. “Prick!”
          “It’s the thought that counts remember,” Paul said innocently and pursed his lips.
          “My arse it does,” Gina gasped and they started to wrestle, the colouring book forgotten, toppled to the floor.
          “Aren’t you a bit sick for this behaviour,” Paul chided as he found himself pinned to the bed.
          “I might be sick but I can still whip your arse,” Gina groused, her hands on his shoulders while his crept around her waist. Half a second later they were locked in another lustful kiss. Gina slid off of Paul onto the bed beside him their legs still entangled.
          “Three days and two nights without you is too much,” Paul declared, pulling her as close as he could.
          “I agree,” Gina breathed. “and it was harder for me since I’m sick.”
          “Next time you’re coming with me,” Paul sighed, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You have to meet my parents, they’re dying to meet you.”
          “Really?” Gina said, surprised as she stroked his cheek softly.
          “Yeah,” Paul nodded. “Mostly they want to know what they hell you see in me.”
          “A love of colouring books,” Gina smiled. “And the continuing growth of our phlegm children.”
          “Yeah, we’ve gotta stay together for the kids,” Paul agreed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. They both started to smirk and then broke into giggles.
          “That’s what I see in you,” Gina cooed stifling a cough.
          “What? Phlegm babies?”
          “Idiot,” Gina laughed. “No, you make me laugh, we make each other laugh. No matter how shit things are. I heard a quote once: ‘Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly.’ I think that sums us up don’t you?”
          “Silly? Definitely,” Paul agreed. “Real Lovers? Well, should your lungs not give out we’ll just check,” he added a hand creeping under her shirt.
          “Sure,” Gina cooed bringing her lips close to his. “I’ve got two minutes,” she added and then squealed as Paul tickled her until she was racked with coughing.