The Siege

"Damn!" I slammed the phone down after getting the ‘No-one is available to take your call at this time...’ message for the third time. It was an STD call and I couldn’t afford a huge phone bill.

"What am I going to do? I’ve already booked my plane ticket!" I complained to my flat mate for what must have been the hundredth time.

"You could still go," she suggested, "just because you can’t get through yet doesn’t mean you should pack in the whole trip. It’s not like you don’t need the holiday to get away from things. You’ve been pretty highly strung lately."

"First of all the whole point of the trip is to go to the show. Secondly I don’t need to get away I want to get away...and I am not highly strung. I’m fine!"

"U-huh. Is that why you just put the dirty plates in the fridge and the milk in the dishwasher?"

"Shit. Shut up...I’m just distracted right now, I’m going to try the phone again. I thought I heard the postie, could you go check?" I picked up the phone and re-dialled as Kelly went out the door. I stood playing with the cord and thinking about what Kel had said. I did need to get away. I had recently broken up with my boyfriend after he proved what a complete asshole he was. Since then he had taken to doing whatever he could to get me to forgive him, practically taking to stalking. Did he really think that I could forgive him after what he did to me? It still gives me nightmares...

I was jolted back to the present by a voice saying "Good News Week, may I help you?"

Wow! An actual person. I explained my situation to the person on the other end of the line, who answered with the bored tone of someone who has heard the story a million times before. Five minutes later I was hanging up the phone with a huge grin across my face.

"I take it you got the tickets?" Kelly came back in with the mail.

"Yep! Wednesday and Friday! Now its all set...I can’t wait!" I was practically jumping up and down, something which would have been a very bad idea in my state.

"Well I hate to bring you down, but you have mail."

I felt a shudder run down my spine and the grin instantly melt away from my face. "Is it from him?" I asked, although I don’t think I needed to. Kel’s face said it all.

"Um...yeah, I think so. Same handwriting. Sam, this guy’s seriously losing it. That’s three in the past week."

I opened the letter and skimmed over it.

"What does he have to say this time?" Kelly was trying to read over my shoulder.

"The usual. ‘I love you, I miss you, I didn’t mean it...’ How the hell do you do something like that accidentally?" I scrunched the letter into a ball and tossed it into the bin where the others had ended up.

"Sam are you okay?"

I could feel the tears in my eyes and as soon as Kel asked this they broke free. "I just wish he’d leave me alone and accept that I never want to see him again!"

I watched as the usual cars pulled up the street, the drivers making their way to work. Trev in his red Laser, Tim in Kermit, the green Datto we named while drunk one night, and Nat in the blue Gemini. Suddenly an orange Escort drove slowly down the road. I froze, unable to move an inch. That was Steve’s car. I had ridden in it so many times, I was sure of it.

"Great" I thought, trying to control the shaking in my hands. "He’s gone from writing letters to staking the place out." I stood there, motionless, praying that he wouldn’t come up here. Then the car pulled slowly away up the road, gathering speed as it disappeared from view. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and turned the stereo up louder. As strange as it sounds DAAS always helps me to relax.

"I’ll get my guns and ammo, cruise down to LA Ask you for your autograph and..."

"SAM!!! Why can’t you listen to that stuff at a lower volume like normal people?" Kelly turned down the stereo.

"I thought you said that normal people don’t listen to ‘this stuff’ ... And, there’s a reason for my plan, something that they do not know ..." I continued singing along with the CD, ignoring the look of torture on Kelly’s face.

"Anyway," she said over the sound of my voice, "what have you been up to all day ... besides deafening the neighbours?"

"Not much. Finalising details for my trip, packing. Stuff like that."

"Are you still meeting Scott?"

"Yeah, I’m actually staying at his place. He’s coming to the shows too." Scott was my cousin. He was a few years older than me and I had known him my whole life. We basically grew up with each other.

"Cool. Is he still single?" Kelly had been interested in Scott ever since she met him.

"Yep! Better make your move before he gets snapped up" I joked. "Any mail?"

"Oh ... yeah. Another one." She handed me a letter.

"He was in the street today" I said, staring at the envelope in my hand.

"Oh my God! He didn’t come up here did he?" Kelly asked, wide eyed.

"No, just drove around then left. Maybe by the time I get back from Sydney he will have gotten over this." I threw the un-opened letter into the garbage and went to finish packing my bags.

"Hey Scotty!" I said, giving him a huge hug. "How have you been?"

"Good" He replied as he took my bags off me. "I see you’re finally big enough to fly without mummy and daddy!"

"Yeah funny that, since I’ve been living in a different state to them for the past two years! I notice, however, that you still live the next suburb over from your parents. Hmm ... a little scared of leaving home are we?" I baited him. Ever since we were kids we had been picking on each other. I followed Scott through the car park, where he led me to his rather decrepit looking car.

"Not a word!" he warned as we climbed into the car, which was difficult as I had to avoid a large crack in the front seat. The trip back to his place was filled with our chatter. He told me why he was driving such a bomb, when I knew he actually owned a nicer car. Turned out he lent it to a friend for the morning so was using this one, which was the car his parents use for emergencies only. I brought him up to speed on the Steve situation.

"See, I was right!" He had given me this speech so many times. "If you had dumped the guy when I told you to this never would have happened. I knew as soon as I met him that he was a prick!"

"Maybe," I replied, "but who’s to say that if I had broken up with him eight months earlier that he wouldn’t have turned psycho then. If he did that I would have had to put up with months of this rather than just weeks."

"Again, maybe." Scott looked thoughtfully down at my left leg. "But you could also say that if you had dumped him then, maybe you wouldn’t have to be using that walking stick now."

I looked at the stick in my lap. He was right. If I had listened to him I might not have to use it. My doctor told me that I won’t have to use it permanently, only until the tissues in my knee heal properly, which should be a few months at the most. Until then, I’m stuck with a chunky knee brace, the walking stick and, at times, enormous amounts of pain.

"I still don’t understand why you didn’t report him to the police. I mean I don't know much about law and stuff, but couldn’t they have charged him with assault ... or worse? It scares me when I think of what might have happened."

"I know, and I did go to the police. They told me there was nothing they could do." As I spoke I saw disbelief flash across Scott’s face.

"For crying out loud, the guy ran you down in his car. Why the hell couldn’t they do anything?"

"I don’t know, some legal problem that I don’t fully understand. Anyway, I don’t really care any more. Can we just drop it?" The whole conversation was making me sick.

"Oh," Scott exclaimed quickly changing the subject. "I have a surprise for you!" I looked over at Scott. His eyes were shining and the look on his face said that no matter how much I begged he wouldn’t tell me what it was, and that he was going to enjoy torturing me. I decided to play along.

"What is it?"

"Wait and see!"

"Oh come on, tell me!"

"Nope! Then it wouldn’t be a surprise!" Luckily we were nearly there, so I gave up and pretended to sulk. Scott just laughed and directed the car into his street. I saw his usual car parked in the street in front of his house. As we pulled into the drive way the door to the house opened and a tall, lanky figure stepped out.

"Well, well, well ... if it isn’t little Samantha," the person said, knowing full well that I hate being called both little and Samantha. "How longs it been since I’ve seen you?" He asked as I climbed slowly out of the car.

"Too long" I replied.

"Tim’s staying here for a few days. He’s coming to the tapings with us" Scott said, cutting Tim off before he could ask about my leg.

I raised my eyebrows and stared at Tim. "Really? I thought you avoided that show."

"Sam, you should know better than to believe everything rumours like that. There was nothing nasty in the break up, despite what general opinion said. Anyway, that was years ago, it’ll be good to catch up with Paul again. Have you ever met him?"

"No, but I’d really like to" I hinted.

"No worries, I’ll introduce you."

"Really?!" I wanted to jump around screaming, but contained myself.

"U-huh."

We went inside and I collapsed on to the nearest couch. I couldn’t believe that Tim was going to introduce me to Paul! It was hard to act casual about it, but I had to. Tim didn’t see anything special about meeting Paul ... well why would he? They worked together for years.

Scott met Tim a few years ago, when he was working with the sound crew on Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush, a job which he really doesn’t like to admit to. They became friends when Scott bought Tim a beer after a show one night and I got to know Tim through visiting Scott. Until I moved to Adelaide a little over two years ago, I lived just around the corner from Scott. I had also had the pleasure of baby sitting Tim’s kids ... an interesting experience. I think they take after their father a little too much for my liking!

"I hope you managed to get a booking when you called" Scott said. "There were none left when I called yesterday."

"Yeah, I called Monday and basically begged, giving them this big story about how I was coming from interstate and it had been my life dream to see a taping, well almost! If there were none left, how are you getting in?"

"It’s all thanks to Tim."

I turned to Tim. "What did you do?"

"I called Paul and begged" he replied.

"Really?"

"No. But I did call and tell him that I was coming, so he said he’d arrange it. If not, I’ll get out the old fishnets and use my amazing looks to get us past security. Anyone else want coffee?" Both Scott and I said yes so Tim got up to make it, just as the phone rang. Scott jumped up to answer it, leaving me alone in the living room.

I picked up a magazine and started to flip through it, but stopped when I saw a flash of orange go past the window. I jumped, causing the magazine to fall off my lap.

"Stop being stupid," I told myself, "you’re in Sydney. Steve’s in Adelaide. He can’t hurt you." All the same, it took a few deep breaths for my heart to stop racing.

"You know," said Tim, "I’m kinda disappointed. I was hoping to have to flash the legs to get in!"

"You’re one sick puppy Tim!" I said, beginning to feel excited. Tim just laughed. Scott parked the car and we made our way to the cafe, as directed by the security guards. When we got inside I noticed that nearly everyone already in there was staring at Tim, which I guess isn’t really all that surprising. Tim either didn’t notice or did a damn good job of pretending not to. We went and sat down, Scott going to the counter for coffee.

As we were settling at the table a young looking girl, maybe seventeen years old, came over to us. She was wearing very heavy make up and a dress about three sizes too small. Looking at her, the word ‘bimbo’ came to mind, amongst others.

"Hi, I’m Tammy. You’re Tim aren’t you?" she asked, trying to bat her eyelids.

"Umm, yeah" Tim replied.

"I had a dream about you last night. It was very vivid," she leaned across the table, revealing to everyone in the room that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

"Oh, really?" Tim was obviously uncomfortable, but was too polite to say anything.

"Mmm. You know if you want details I’d be happy to show you ..." she put her hand on Tim’s arm.

"So Tim! How’s your wife?" I asked quite loudly.

"Oh, she’s great. And the kids keep asking when you’re going to babysit again." Tim seemed relieved at the change of topic. The girl glared at me and stalked away. I love doing that, it’s so much fun!

"Thanks!" Tim said. "I really should learn to deal with people like that hey."

We sat ourselves in the middle of the row, about half way up in the centre section of seats. I leaned my walking stick up against the seat next to me. The studio was much smaller than I had expected. We were so close to the chairs and desks where the guests would be sitting. I was sitting between Tim and Scott, who was currently talking to the guys next to him. I turned to Tim.

"Do you know who the guests are tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah ... but I can’t remember" Tim screwed up his face, as if that would help his memory. It occurred to me that for a good looking man, Tim can look extraordinarily ugly when he wants to!

"Oh, I remember" Tim let his face relax and he looked normal again. "Rove McManus, Kim Hope and Lano and Woodley."

"Oh my God!" I screamed, getting strange looks from people around us. I lowered my voice. "That’s so cool."

Tim grinned and was about to say something when a woman wearing headphones and a mouthpiece and carrying a clipboard walked on to the stage. People clapped, so I joined in. She talked about not taking photos and a few other things.

After that, Ted Robinson came out, complaining about how quiet the audience was ... a challenge for us to prove him wrong. He went over some basic stuff, fire exits, laughing and not waving at cameras. He got in a dig at Hey Hey it’s Saturday which I found very funny and got a fit of the giggles.

"I see we have a Daryl fan in tonight." He said, looking right at me. He then continued his speech, which I found funny but others in the audience looked bored with. Some even recited along with him.

"So spontaneously and on the count of three make as much noise as possible. One ... Two ... Three"

The audience erupted. People were clapping, cheering, stomping, whistling and screaming. Finally Paul McDermott pranced out on to the stage, bowing and playing up to the cheers.

The audience quietened down while Paul began pacing the stage. The only sounds were a few snickers here and there. Still pacing, Paul launched into a story about a cow. As he walked back and forth, talking about various ways to screw with the mind of a cow, his eyes were constantly skimming the audience. They came to rest on Tim. Paul grinned, shook his head and kept moving. Paul talked a bit more about methods of cow torturing then called Mikey out to the set. Again the audience went wild.

Once Paul and Mikey had chatted for a bit (I never expected to learn so much about cows!) Paul looked in our direction and nudged Mikey. For some reason I felt rather un-easy. I watched Paul, trying to pick what he was going to do, when he looked right at me. Our eyes met and before I lowered mine to look at my hands, I was sure I saw a glint in his.