1997 (90s Flashback Series Book 2), page 1
1997
KIRSTY MCMANUS
Copyright © 2018 Kirsty McManus
All rights reserved.
For all the writers in my awesome community.
THANKS TO…
I have an even bigger thank you this time for all the wonderful people who helped me with the second part of this series. Not only did you all have a short deadline (due to my not-so-great time management of external events), but you all gave me such insightful feedback that showed you cared about the story and wanted to help to make it the best it could possibly be. Thank you!
Natasha – wow! I can’t believe you read it so quickly and were able to give me exactly what I needed! Thank you!
Louise, again, thanks for your take on things. I love how your brain works!
Kate, thank you for reminding me to consider particular storytelling principles! I need those little suggestions every now and again!
Diane, your gentle approach is still very much appreciated. Thank you again for being such a great writing buddy.
Lindsay, I am so glad I got to work with you a second time. I look forward to many more projects together!
Lastly, Sofie, Anna and Belinda. You women are awesome, and I really appreciate the time you take to read my stuff!
ONE
It’s been seven months since my life changed forever. Seven months since I burst out of The Matrix after living for years and years in total blissful ignorance. Until that point, I thought my life was perfect. I had a handsome husband, a beautiful house, and a great job.
And then BLAM!
A weird psychedelic drug thrust me back into 1996 and I discovered that my husband never loved me as much as he loved someone else.
It came as quite a shock.
Since then, I’ve been finding it a bit difficult to come to terms with my new reality. Mind you, it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve reconnected with a bunch of old friends, and my relationship with my sister is stronger than ever—but to adjust to being single after an eighteen-year relationship is definitely not what I’d call easy.
“Anna?”
I look up. Kelsey is staring at me.
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re off in la-la land again, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying really hard not to be.”
She sighs. “Well, how about we call it a day and then meet again on Monday? We still have a lot to do.”
“I know. Thank you for being so understanding. I’m sorry I’m distracted.”
Since Kelsey and I reconciled, we’ve decided to go into business together. She’d been an event planner at a Shell Beach golf club for a few years, but was wanting to go out on her own at some point—and because she knew I was a pastry chef and healthy dessert creator, she thought we’d make the perfect partnership. We are currently in my kitchen discussing our new venture’s progress, a sort-of concept café called Naughty or Nice.
“Next week, we need to finalise the menu so we can send it off to the printers. And the builders called this morning to say most of the fit-out will be complete in a couple of days. Have you spoken to Amy?”
My sister offered us her interior design skills to make sure that what we envisioned in our heads looked the same in real life. Initially I was worried we might not work well together, considering I was basically estranged from her for twenty years, but it’s been really easy. And fun. She definitely deserves her reputation as one of the city’s best designers. Plus, she’s not even charging me for her time, which is a huge bonus.
“I spoke to her yesterday. She’s just waiting on a friend of hers to finish constructing the chandelier.”
The centrepiece of our whole shop is going to be a massive cascade of bubble-shaped lights hanging at the back of the store.
“Cool. And how are you going with…”
My phone cuts off Kelsey’s next question. It’s Rachel. Since we reconnected last year, she’s also become one of my best friends, but she still lives up at Shell Beach. She recently mentioned wanting to have a weekend in Brisbane, so I’ve invited her to stay.
Kelsey rolls her eyes. “Go on. Answer it.”
I mouth her a thank you and pick up my phone.
“Hey!” The sound is slightly muffled, so I assume Rachel is in her car. “I’m about fifteen minutes away. Are you at home?”
“I am. Kelsey and I are just finishing up a business meeting.”
“Great! See you soon!”
I hang up and look at Kelsey. “Rachel’s almost here, so it’s probably a good time to wrap this up anyway. Are you sure you can’t come out with us tonight?”
“Sorry, no. I have a date.”
“With Ben?” Ben is the latest in a string of toy-boys Kelsey has started seeing. She figures it’s a win-win situation, because she doesn’t want to settle down with anyone, and they don’t usually want to either. I envy her confidence. I would struggle to get naked in front of a man more than five years my junior.
“Yep.”
“That must be getting dangerously close to a serious relationship,” I tease.
“I wouldn’t call three dates serious. But I do like him. And that body!” She fans herself in an exaggerated fashion.
“Okay, okay. I don’t want to know. See you next week?”
“Yes! Have fun with Rachel tonight! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“I wouldn’t go home alone,” she says, eyes twinkling.
I shoot her a look. “Kelsey…”
Kelsey thinks my life would be perfect, if only I had someone new in it. But I am definitely not ready for a new relationship. I’m still recovering from a divorce. Not to mention trying to forget a certain other person I met last year.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “What? I’m not hassling you.”
“All right.” I give her a quick hug and see her out.
I go over to the stereo and choose some old Backstreet Boys tunes to get me in a party mood.
Just as I’m singing along to Everybody and getting my nineties dance groove on, my phone rings again.
It’s Mum.
“Hey, Mum! How are you?”
“Good. Great, actually. I’ve been trying a bunch of new strategies in an attempt to treat this damn fatigue, and they’re sort of working. Finally.”
“Oh, that’s amazing! I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Mum has been battling myalgic encephalomyelitis, otherwise known as chronic fatigue syndrome, for almost two decades now.
“Thanks, honey. I know it’s early days, and I don’t expect a miracle cure, but I’ve actually been able to start doing stuff like walk into town without it wiping me out for the rest of the week.”
“Does that mean you might be able to come for a visit soon? Maybe the café opening? We’re having a small party on Saturday the twenty-fifth.”
“Oh, sweetie, I would love that. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do everything in my power to get down there and see you. Amy sent me a couple of photos of the place and it looks fantastic. I’m so proud of you two girls.”
“Thanks, Mum.” I start to tear up. I do that a lot lately. I think going through a marriage breakup can make you super emotional, even when stuff unrelated to the breakup happens.
“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking of you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”
“I really appreciate it. I’m looking forward to seeing you too.”
I hang up, smiling. Life feels much more friendly these days. Well, apart from my relationship with Ed. And I don’t think I could ever be besties with Maddie, even though I’m the one who reintroduced her to my now ex-husband. But I’m grateful for all the other relationships I’ve re-ignited lately.
I quickly straighten up my apartment in preparation for Rachel’s arrival. I currently rent a one-bedroom place on the second floor of an old building in Kangaroo Point. I don’t have a view of the river, but I am only a block back from the water.
Just as I’m contemplating getting something to drink, the doorbell rings. I fling open the door and Rachel throws her arms around me.
“It’s so good to see you!” she says, obviously very excited about being in the city for the weekend.
I hug her back, laughing. “You too.”
“God, I love Brisbane. I don’t know if I could live here full-time, but I certainly appreciate the convenience. Everything in Shell Beach closes at 9pm. I can’t believe that’s the time we’re going to be heading out later!”
“It certainly has its benefits. But then, you do have that gorgeous beach.”
“True.”
I head through to the kitchen and open the fridge. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
I pull out a bottle of Prosecco and pour us two glasses, handing her one.
“To getting back out into the scary social jungle,” I say, clinking her drink with mine.
“You’re right about the scary part. Even the guys on the coast are hard work. I can’t imagine what the city boys are going to be like.”
“Well, I’m not planning on meeting anyone tonight. I just want to see what’s out there.”
“I totally understand. I think even when I meet someone new, I’m going to keep it casual. I like my freedom.”
“Me too. So we’ll be all modern and self-sufficient, just with our hot man on call when we need him?”
She giggles.
We down our drinks and I let Rachel shower while I get out some crackers and cheese. I refill our glasses and queue a few more nineties songs on the stereo. Except then I start thinking of Kurt—even though I’m pretty sure he would never have listened to Ace of Base or En Vogue.
In this reality, he’s taken on the form of a distant celebrity—which I guess he kind of is, producing music for famous DJs in London. I can’t even look him up, because he doesn’t seem to share the same surname with the cousin currently in my bathroom—and when I googled Kurt music producer London there were a lot of results. The ones with photos clearly weren’t him, and I wasn’t about to start randomly emailing the rest. Besides, what would I say? Hi, you don’t know me, but I’ve met you multiple times in an alternate reality?
I also don’t want to mess with his life if he’s happily settled with someone else. I can’t be the Maddie in that relationship.
But I so badly want to ask Rachel if she’s heard anything else…maybe that he’s broken up with his girlfriend and is moving back to Australia? Except I don’t want her thinking I’m only friends with her again so I can grill her about him. In her version of reality, I’ve never met the guy. I already asked too many questions once and she started to get suspicious. Luckily, she was drunk and hopefully forgot soon after.
No, the best thing to do is try and move on. Kurt isn’t real. At least not the version I met. He’s just an echo of the past. Who knows what the current incarnation is like? I almost don’t want to know. It might be like that time I met a celebrity chef I was kind of obsessed with and he turned out to be a total dick.
I take a large swallow from my refilled glass and wait for Rachel to reappear.
She soon does, wearing a tight pink dress and tall strappy black heels.
“Wow. You look amazing!”
“Thanks, hon. I feel like I should at least dress like I belong in the city.”
“You’re definitely going to turn heads tonight.” I point to her drink. “I got you another one. And feel free to change the music if you’re not into Jamiroquai or The Fugees.”
“I love this stuff!” she says, dancing around to prove her point. “Go on, get ready so we can catch up properly.”
I obey, heading off to the shower.
I have a good feeling about tonight.
TWO
Okay. So I may have been slightly off about my good feeling. That’s not to say it’s been bad, per se, just a little…weird.
For a start, Rachel won’t let me eat anything. All I’ve had since lunchtime is the crackers and cheese I made before we left the house. It’s now nine thirty, and if I don’t have some food soon, I’m going to pass out from the alcohol that feels like it’s being pumped directly via IV into my bloodstream.
“Why can’t we quickly go across the street and buy a kebab?” I whine. We’re currently at the Press Club and Rachel keeps looking around like she’s expecting someone. She also keeps checking her phone every five seconds.
“Because I said.”
“That’s not a reason!”
“Just trust me. I have a surprise for you tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Wait, what? What kind of surprise?”
“Nothing bad. I promise it’ll be super fun.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if it would work out earlier.”
“When will you tell me what it is? I assume it involves food?”
“You’ll find out in a few minutes.”
I suddenly feel uneasy—like I’ve been ambushed. Rachel isn’t as unpredictable as Kelsey—if Kelsey just said the same thing Rachel did, I’d be heading home right now—but I don’t like surprises, period. Maybe it’s a hangover from last year, when I discovered my husband had a whole secret past I never knew about.
“Can you at least give me a clue?”
“Fine. Yes, it involves food.”
“You’re acting like you’re waiting for someone.”
“Just be patient.”
I restlessly sip my salted caramel espresso martini and try to calm the nerves bubbling in my stomach. I’m not happy about this at all.
Rachel’s phone beeps and she jumps. I watch as she quickly opens the message. After reading whatever it says, she looks up at me.
“Damn. Slight change of plans. But it’s okay. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”
“And go where?”
“Just across to Wickham Street. All will be revealed there.”
“You promise I won’t hate whatever it is we’re doing?”
“I swear.”
“Okay.” I don’t know if I trust her, but at least I’ll be getting food soon. I finish my martini and order one more. Something tells me I’m going to need it.
But by the time the bartender finishes making it, Rachel is standing up. “We have to go now.”
“What about my drink?”
“Either leave it or chug it.”
I look at the glass. I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk if I drink it fast, but I hate wasting money. And alcohol. I pick it up and swallow the whole thing in a few mouthfuls.
Rachel laughs. “Maybe now you’ll finally relax.”
I grab onto her arm and follow her outside. I am definitely in drunk territory now.
“I’m so glad you’re visiting,” I hiccup. “Even if you’re springing a surprise on me.”
“It’s good to see you too, babe.”
A couple of minutes later, we stop outside a furniture design business.
“If you were hoping to do some late night shopping, I hate to disappoint you, but everything’s closed,” I joke.
“Ha-ha. No, we’re going upstairs.” She points to a staircase beside the furniture store entrance.
I look around as we start walking up to the second floor, but I can’t figure out what’s going on.
And then we get to the top.
Ah.
We’re at a restaurant.
A dark dining restaurant. Meaning, you have to eat everything in the absence of light.
“You booked us in here?” I can barely walk in a straight line with the lights on. How am I going to manage in the dark?
I look around the foyer, which I assume is preparing us for the upcoming experience with its dim lighting and black curtains. An ominous-looking door is set into the back wall.
“Yup! Don’t you think it looks great? I know heaps of people up on the coast who have come down for the weekend just to go here and they’ve raved about it.”
“I don’t know, Rachel…”
“Come on. It’ll be fun. Just give it a chance.”
“Have you seen the menu yet?”
“Nope! That’s half the surprise. You won’t know what you’re eating until you’re in there.”
“Hmm…”
“Come on, Anna! I thought this kind of thing would be right up your alley. You’re such a foodie.”
“I am!” My brain is scrambled. A very far away thought from non-drunk Anna reminds me that I have never been interested in this kind of place, because it turns the food into a gimmick and allows for sub-standard cooking. But I am starving.
“Just give it a chance,” she pleads. She stops a passing waitress who has a tray of champagne glasses and grabs one. She then gestures between me and the tray. I shake my head.
“Have you already paid?” I ask.
“Yes. But you can pay me back later. Or not at all. I don’t mind.”
“Of course I’m going to pay my share. I just wish you’d given me some advance warning.” I look around and notice something strange. “Rachel? Why aren’t there any men here?”
She inspects the women around us. “I don’t know. I guess that’s a little weird, huh?”
“Do you think maybe you booked us in on a lesbian night or something?”
She laughs. “I don’t think so. I’m sure they would have said when I made the booking. Besides…”
We’re interrupted by a tall blonde woman who claps her hands together. “Excuse me, ladies. We’re about to go in. My name is Delilah, and I’ll be your hostess for the evening. If you haven’t done so already, please go and check your bags and phones in the cloakroom. After that, I’d like you to form a conga line for safety. Put your arm on the woman’s shoulder in front of you and we’ll head inside, single file.”
