William Peters had pulled his run down bicycle up to the wrought iron balustrade surrounding the entrance to the metro station on St Germain des Pres, threading the U bolt and locking it. Sitting down at a free table he ordered a Jack Daniels on ice from the waiter. No sooner had he opened his book and begun reading, he recognised the waiter that had served him the previous night at Brasserie Lipp. The waiter, in turn, noticed William too and smiled. William had marked his large nose the previous evening, which reminded him of a large flaccid penis, and this caused William to chuckle. The waiter had been quite a character; playful and cheery as he’d walked to and fro, whistling as William had kissed his date at the table, his arms full of plates as he strolled by flicking his leg out. The waiter was out of his black tie now and was dressed in light blue stonewash jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, losing some of his appeal, though his face remained animated and charming in its distinction.

“Vous vienez ici tous les temps? Vous voyez les femmes? Beacoup des femmes ici. Tres jolie, non?” said William. He had known that the waiter did not speak much English and it was the best French he could muster. In an animated manner he spoke in French using his body language to convey his thoughts, his face lighting up, his hands gesticulating to convey the parts of a woman that he enjoyed and conveying his thoughts succinctly.

William’s second phone rang on the table and he excused himself.

“Billy! How are you?” asked Dom.

“Dommy, not bad old son, sipping mon oncle Jack on a Parisian boulevard lad!” he had responded.

“Ah, I am so jealous! You live the life” he said, adding “I would love to be swanning around Paris with you right now”.

“Hop on a plane old boy, nothing stopping you. So what’s up?” inquired William.

“The shit has hit the fan again big time. Zoe is seeing someone else, I am sure of it” his voice now slowing its speed and the sorrow seeping in. “She went out tonight and she didn’t invite me and she said she wanted time to herself”.

Dominic recited the story, the deeper he went the more his words hurt William who was, until the moment he had answered the call, in immensely good spirits. William interpreted the tale as a sad overture, a relationship that was growing apart, deteriorating fight after fight, a mirror that had been smashed so many times that one could barely recognise one’s own reflection. William, who had been privy to the relationship since its conception, had grown tired of hearing the same story and whilst he felt sincerely empathetic, as he had only just finished lacerating himself over a young capricious girl, did not wish to re-enter the realm of thought that was dominating Dominic’s dialogue.

“You won’t get any clarity until you get some distance” William had responded as Dominic had paused to take breath, “only hindsight gives you 20/20.”

Before Dominic could begin again William repeated his last phrase for effect.

“I am a piece of shit. I’m a fuckin’ empty vessel. I have no money, no job” and here William heard the frog in Dominic’s voice but was unwilling to submit to his own emotional currents that he was only just mastering. Dominic began to break out into a sob.

“I am sorry for crying. I hate it, I hate it. I think I am going to check out man”.

“Dominic, hey, listen, you are alive again! At least you are crying. That’s the most emotion I have heard out of you in a while. It’s not a weakness. It shows you are feeling again! Listen, I am going to come home soon, then we will go skiing as planned”.

“Yes, but Billy” said Dominic, gathering his thoughts and now forgetting his sorrow “there has been a change of plan, we are going to have to go for club week” he said, his sobbing weakening.

“Dom, No! I told you, no club week! Alice will be there and I can’t see her, change the dates” said William.

“I can’t, we have a small window as it is, it’s the best I can do. I’m sorry.”

William felt the pull of the exact same emotions that Dominic was feeling; without warning they swelled to the surface of his conscience and Alice appeared before him, reminding him of his first night in Paris in the very same restaurant as he’d dined the night before. She had broken his spirit and brought him into a state of chaos and despair that he’d only just recovered from and which he had only just now owned up to as his own fault. I fell too fast, I wanted it too bad, he had repeated as mantra. Righting himself he attempted to finish the conversation, as each minute wore on the cost of the call made him more impatient.

“Just imagine, skiing Crackenback all morning, long lunches and then drinks at the Schuss in the evening”.

“Sounds so good. Yep, we’re doing it. Thanks mate... You know, I really appreciate it. You were the only one who answered. You’re there for me. You are my best friend” he said, his last words trailing off in a soft trembling cadence.

“Mate, I have to go. I am meeting a friend and this call is costing me dearly. Have a sleep. Try to. When Heidi was cheating on me I had to pretend as though I was physically being buried and only then I could get some respite. It’s terrible.”

“Goodbye Billy” said Dominic as though these were his last worldly words.

“Night night big guy” replied Billy and he placed the phone on the green Ricard table and breathed in and out twice.

William had no friend to meet but the conversation had been far too intense for his liking, too many thoughts had run through his own mind and he felt a heat across his face from the emotions that were being pulled from a vast storage of experiences that William had wished to leave behind him. The Boulevarde was bustling with the ebb and flow of traffic; scouters, taxis and buses accelerating as the lights changed, the bus engines roaring, the scouters farting and then fading away. A light breeze rustled the pavement trees and the sunset light played on the walls of the Eglise opposite. He moved his gaze back to the waiter who was conversing on the end table and they both smiled exchanged a cheeky smile.

It was a few days later that William got a call from Dom and then followed it up by messaging his wall on Facebook, Dommy returning his post with a text message confirming accommodation. Then no more was said and they did not discuss Zoe or Dominic’s emotional state again. Accordingly, William made his assumptions and messaged Zoe’s wall.

“Zo zo! Looking forward to following you down the mountain you cannonball! I guess things have settled down...”

“Billy-goat, working on it love, working on it... So hard!”

Late one evening when returning from Bagatelle, only a week before his return to Sydney and with a belly full of alcohol, Billy had tried to call Dominic to tell him that he was going to be just fine, but the phone had rung out and Billy bent over the toilet seat to bring up the kebab he’d just eaten in Les Halles on his cycle home from St Germain.

Billy had arrived at Kingsford Smith after a twelve-hour layover in Singapore, his legs aching from the constraints of cattle class. He’d drunken himself into a claustrophobic anxiety from nimble Jack Daniels and gin bottles he’d bought in duty free, waking at one point and feeling crusty tears from a bad dream. But having arrived at the airport he sobered up quickly as he took the line through customs.

“Anything to declaair?” asked the customs officer.

“Nope” responded Billy.

“Take loin wun thanks maate!”

There it was for Billy; this staunch reminder that he was no longer among the croissants, the North African peddlers and the tabacs. He had arrived home and his culture, if there could be said to be one, would not bend for anyone.

“What’s it like to be back?” asked Dominic when Billy finally got through to him a few days later.

“Shocking. How did you take it?” he had asked in return.

“I wasn’t there as long as you were.”

“Depressing. You can travel as far as you like in this land but they will still greet you with ‘g’day’”.

“Are we still on for skiing?”

“Yes, and it’s club week. I couldn’t change it”.

They had agreed to meet for lunch; Billy waiting outside Zoe’s house whilst Dom gathered himself and made his way up the stairs and stood vigil with Billy as they waited for Zoe to return from university. He was standing in a reddish flannel shirt with faded jeans torn at the rear pocket and frayed near the crotch, his languid arms folded into his waist. He wore a perpetual monkey smile, which purported cheekiness but masked a deeper level of insecurity for lack of anything to say. Dominic was a handsome boy, bestowed with a bellowing bass voice that was cigarette husky, always charming and honeyed in his mannerisms. ‘May I...’ he would say before opening a door for a lady. He’d never had trouble getting the ladies. It was keeping them that had always presented the challenge.

Zoe arrived in her Volkswagen and parked on an angle in the drive. They invited Billy in whilst she changed her clothes, it being a hot 24 degrees on this August afternoon, hotter than Paris had been for Billy all summer. The view of the harbour spread out in front of them, the glare subduing their glances, short choppy waves cutting the water in small caps, yet still the water glistened from the sunshine. Billy surveyed the lounge area, filled with dog poop, tissues, clothes strewn against lounges and armchairs. Bottles were beneath New Idea’s and Who Weekly’s and the Sun Herald was neatly piled in one corner whilst the S section was spread across the coffee table. Dominic seated himself on the balcony and beckoned Billy to join him.

“So how was Paris!” said Dom manufacturing excitement, “tell me some stories” at which point he lowered his sunglasses.

“Well, I don’t really know where to start” began Dominic who by now had told his stories so many times that he disgusted himself when he took his breath to engage his audience. He decided to give a brief synopsis and save the rest for another time.

“Well, I don’t know where to start” he repeated, “I got drunk a lot. We used to go to cafes at nights, or some small bar of Rue De Seine. One was called La Pallette where there is always this grumpy waiter. Alice took me there the first time” he said pausing, recalling her switching their dishes when she didn’t like her own order.

“Then sometimes we could go to a club called Kong, another called Le Baron, and then one called Bagatelle. It was in some ‘maison’ in the Bois De Bologne. And, sometimes I would be lucky enough to meander across a bridge on the Seine as the Eiffel Tower would sparkle on the hour like a diamond spire.

You know Dommy, the rest of the world despises the Frenchman for his socialist leanings and his passion for striking and they all hope this Sarkozy government will annihilate that culture, but, paradoxically, if you ask any American that bothers to travel or is the least bit worldly, you will always find they spend their tourist dollars in Paris. You can’t take it away from Paris, it’s charming — you can smoke in the cafes and you can piss in the street.”

“I heard that is changing next year” replied Dominic.

“Yes, I heard the same thing. Oh well... So we ride out on our bikes of an evening, going for dinners at brasseries, talking pigeon French. They were mostly expat kids we were hanging with, working for big law firms or investment banks. A lot of Americans. And then there is that circus crowd that arrives in Paris each summer of which I told you about the celebrities. Art galleries and product launch types.”

“Shit man, when I was there I was so depressed I hardly went out”.

Zoe re-emerged in a corporal hat with chequered leggings, her curly blonde main spilling out of either side of the cap. Her eyes were lit up and she laughed when she sided up to Billy to greet him properly. They kissed each other hello and she squeezed him when they embraced. He was glad to see her and her happiness was infectious. The three had eaten in a quiet cafe of Queen Street in Woollahra, making small talk about common friends, careful not to talk of the events surrounding the last few weeks of their relationship. Billy had dropped them both back to Zoe’s house and organised a time to meet them on Wednesday morning.

It was not particularly cold when Billy arrived at Zoe’s house though Dominic rubbed his hands together and blew on his cupped hands as Billy pulled up his station wagon.

“You’re early” said Dominic.

“Yes, where’s Zoe?” Billy returned.

“She already went” he replied.

“What?”

“Yeah, she flew down yesterday”.

“Strange, I thought she was coming down with us.”

“No, you got it wrong, she was always going down first.”

After having set the navigation and the heating, they drove off from the curb and took the M5 south out of Sydney. Dominic fiddled with the positioning of the satellite navigation, then insisting that he play Billy songs from his iPod that he then took the liberty of installing a charging dock for the device through the cigarette lighter. Billy was finding it distracting but did not have the heart to dismiss Dominic who by now was searching for songs in a playlist he had set up.

“I know it’s here somewhere.... Ah, here it is!” said Dominic as he played a song which Billy had heard played over and over again throughout his Parisian summer.

“Do you know this one?” asked Dominic.

“Yes, it’s great” replied Billy.

The road began to open to greater expanses of greener pastures lining either side of the highway as they continued out through Bulli.

“Has it been raining?” asked Billy.

“Yeah, right up until you came back. You brought the sunshine” said Dominic, lowering his window, the roar of air swooping through the cabin and cooler than when they’d left. A few minutes went by and then Dominic opened the window again, this time Billy smelt the reason. He barked at Billy before lowering his own window, blowing some papers left in the rear seat. The windows went up and both laughed loudly before Dominic resumed control of the stereo.

“It’s so good to have you back, man” said Dominic and he slapped Billy’s thigh.

They stopped the car at Marulan to fill it with petrol, the air now damp and cooler with gloomy cloud covering further up the highway. They each got a breakfast muffin at the Hungry Jacks then smoked a cigarette next to the bonnet of the car whilst looking out at the horizon. There was no sound of nature, just the whizzing of cars on the highway. Neither felt the urge to speak and they made one or two comments about the snow before returning to the car.

Passing Lake George on the Barton Highway, Dominic’s phone rang just as Billy was looking up at a hang glider, temporarily veering out of his lane until the white markers trembled the undercarriage and he righted the car.

“Heelloow?” said Dominic, sparking the curiosity of Billy, who watched Dominic’s hands feeling for the mute button.

“Hi, how is it? Yeah? Really? Why not? Nothing, we’re just on the Barton Highway. Nah, just briefly to fill up. Should be. I miss you too. Why didn’t you call Tommy?”

The conversation went on in this manner for some time causing Billy to become impatient. He tried to think of his own loves and for a moment he pondered the first time he had introduced Dominic to Zoe and for a brief instant imagined himself as Zoe’s boyfriend. It was a pleasant enough thought and carrying forward from that he thought of Alice again and his own personal journey since they had all first met. Dominic had been unable to hold a job down, moving apartments a number of times but holding onto Zoe with a fierce competitive love. Meanwhile, Billy had gone to London to re-kindle an old flame which was just embers when he saw her; then returning to Sydney he’d grown restless by Christmas and the following May embarked on a cultural sojourn in Paris, hopelessly attempting to grow cultured, to find love and fame if it should come his way. Billy received his own phone call but was waved down by Dominic who then placed his index in his ear and repeated “sorry, I couldn’t hear that, can you repeat it again”.

Dominic finished the phone call and placed his phone in the drink holder.

“Sorry about that, she wouldn’t let me go”.

“No, it’s fine, I totally understand. So, do you want to talk about it?” asked Billy.

“I know what ya thinking. Jesus, I can tell you a mile off” said Dominic huffing and looking out towards the empty lake.

“She was begging me Billy. Beggin’. She was dragging my leg and saying ‘I won’t let you go. I won’t, you’re going to kill me Dominic, do ya hear me?’ So I asked her again. ‘Did you fuck around on me?’ and she kept screaming ‘No’ really loudly. So I held her against my leg and then I kicked her to the ground and she burst out screaming and the tears were genuine. I wanted to kill her, I was seeing black and then I stopped and she had me. Just one second, that’s all it took. All I did was question myself and then I was back with her. And we were both crying then. The sex was amazing that night. Things were great after that, initially, and we sorted everything out but now...” he said sighing, lowering the window and letting the wind stream in and air-brush his whiskers.

“So what was all the shit about checking out?” Billy asked.

“I never said I was going to check out” replied Dominic.

“Yeah you did. You basically said it as if it was your last goodbye” retorted Billy.

“Oh fuck off! Mate, she was begging me to come back to her”.

Billy imagined the overtly dramatic scenes, the very same messy lounge room he had witnessed, the yellow light globes in tear strained eyes. He was disturbed by Dominic’s admissions and cast his mind back to a 5am phone call.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, who do you think you are not showing up! I didn’t owe you anything! I didn’t ask for anything from you!”

“I’m tired. Go to bed, I will call you in the morning”. The phone went dead.

“She said to say hi by the way” said Dominic after a minute.

“We don’t have sex anymore” he said after another.

The music of Jeff Buckley had just succeeded The Doors, the soft lyric of Leonard Cohen filling the cabin, both men equally nostalgic and again the windows were lowered to allow them to breath.

“Are you serious?” asked Billy over the roar of the wind, and both windows closed and the cabin resumed its melodic ambience over the hum of the engine.

“We had sex the night we made up. But before that we hadn’t had sex in three months and since the fight I think we had sex twice” said Dominic.

“Ground for divorce” said Billy.

“I know Billy-Bob but I love her. I fuckin’ love her man” he said and his voice faltered before he collected himself.

“Relationships” said Billy, composed and gaining oratory confidence through his friend’s admissions, continued in this admonition, “are very difficult things. You know, sometimes you feel responsible for the other person. This can be daunting. Maybe her not having sex with you is because she is being careful in handling your emotions, and her own, considering the volatile nature of the relationship. The problem, it seems to me, is that you have forgotten what is to be Dominic Jensen and instead you are full of fear about what it would be like to have to rely on yourself again. You forget that you were Dominic before you met Zoe, and, should it end, you will be left with Dominic to deal with at the end.

It was the same with Alice and I... but different. I... I was stuck on her and I had to re-tool myself to be me again. I had to realise why people loved me and enjoy that person again. Nobody is saying it’s easy of course...”

“Yeah but I love her, like I said... And you don’t...” said Dominic but he allowed himself to trail off as he reached down to grab something from the car floor.

“I don’t what?” asked Billy. But he felt he was being ignored.

“I don’t what?” repeated Billy.

Almost as in a daze Dominic lifted his head and turned to Billy.

“I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought” he said.

They continued on in this fashion, taking turns in expounding their own thoughts, then prodding and poking one another with suggestive remarks or by not saying what they truly felt in their hearts, allowing sentences to trail off, both equally inattentive to each other’s needs though wishing to dispense the most insightful thoughts. Billy had grown tired of Dominic’s lethargy, feeling that he had not worked as hard as he had to improve one’s own standing; doing very little to work himself out of the rut he had fallen into by virtue of his own weakness and self-loathing. Whilst Dominic had felt the sheer offensiveness of Billy’s rhetoric; that Billy could dispense such hog wash so self-righteously, without for a moment recognising his own shortcomings, made Dominic feel not only angry, but instilled in him a desire to break Billy’s spirit. Though they still both recognised the qualities that made them friends, a divide was felt, one which, with the passing years, seemed to be growing.

They stopped in Cooma at a liquor store, filling up the car with a case of beer, bottles of white wine and Jack Daniels. Though Dominic had money on him he decided to let Billy pay for the alcohol; though he had put his hand in his pocket to pay, when Billy had offered to get the alcohol, Dominic firmly put his wallet in his back pocket, taking some of the alcohol that had been swiped by the teller and marching out the door in his Sorel boots and waiting by the side of the car, blowing on his cold hands.

“Well, maybe you do love her Dommy, but maybe you don’t, you are just too afraid of being alone. And let’s face it you are reasonably needy...” said Billy as the Subaru hit the curb and entered into the Jindabyne shopping mall. Here they ducked into a ski store and Billy bought himself a pair of goggles.

As they continued on through the back of Jindabyne and heading up the escarpment for the last run into National Park, Dominic received a call from Zoe’s mother, who was driving in the opposite direction in the exact same make of car, the clouds darkly contrasted, the sun’s rays filtering through and offering an eerie light that cast patches over the alpine grasses on either side of the road. Dominic spoke to her about the Sydney house; that he’d cleaned up after Zoe and had left it in an immaculate state having cleaned the poop off the floor and carted all the paper to the recycling bins. As she drove past the boys her lights flashed, all windows lowered and arms were waving, wishing her safe return to Sydney, as both cars passed each other at high speeds, Billy noticing the peculiar way in which Zoe’s mother held her phone tucked to her chin. For a brief moment Billy was jealous that Dominic should have such a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family but then the feeling subsided as he consoled himself that his time would surely come.

As the car pushed through the last stretch of road the bare alpine ash blew in the wind, there was no snow on the leaves and the ground seemed dry, upsetting Dominic who was not confident about the snow conditions. The tips of many of the trees were bare of foliage and the trunks a hardened silver and black ash, the vegetation surrounding appeared frostbitten.

“How long are ya hear for?” asked the gatekeeper at the National Park entrance and they entered the park, Dominic rubbing the sticker against the windshield.

“I know I said I would pay for half this trip, so I feel bad about the petrol and the booze. Let me pay for the Nashy pass” said Dominic. Leaning forward and stretching his seat belt, he reached into his back pocket, then opening his wallet out to the far side of his torso, he took some notes and placed them in the drinks holder. Billy did his best not to look into the centre console but did so after a minute, noticing that he’d left but $25 of the $96 he’d paid. Noticing Billy’s eyes look toward the console, Dominic made a pre-emptive move to disarm the situation.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t have any cash in my wallet. I spent it all back in Cooma. As soon as I get to the teller I will get you the rest” he said, slapping his trucker’s cap against his lap.

They drove to Banjo Terrace and parked the wagon in a line of cars all filmed with country dust mostly roof-racked. A black crow was picking at a white plastic rubbish bag that had been left out between the wet timber fire logs. Zoe smacked the fly screen open and descended the steps in her Ugg boots, smiling but slightly nervous. Dominic walked over and hugged her with an excessive zest, hunching over and pulling her closely into him whilst smelling her hair. Over his shoulder she smiled at Billy, who had raised the hatch and was unloading the alcohol and ski gear.

When they had finished storing the luggage and Dominic had removed and reshuffled the fridge many times to allow room for the beer and wine that Billy had bought, Billy had commanded the kitchen for a moment, requesting the couple to sit whilst he prepared drinks. Grabbing the ice trays and knocking it against the counter he poured two long Jack Daniels and then a glass of white wine. The three then moved out onto the wooden balcony and lit cigarettes. A lone wine glass from the previous evening stood on the balustrade further down. It was dry and marked with an oily mist but where the glass was clean it glistened in the afternoon sunlight that had broken free from the patchy sky. All three looked up to Crackenback, graduating white at the top to beige at the base, speckled with rocks and lined with trees and it too glistened in the sunshine.

“I can’t wait” said Zoe breaking the silence and they each three clinked their glasses and raised them to the mountain.

“Good to be here” said Billy.

“Brost” said Dominic.

“I was going nuts on my own” said Zoe, and turning to Billy she said “Alice is here, Billy. I saw her getting some gum at the supermarket”.

The news affected Billy with an air of excitement and allowed him to play with all the possible scenarios that might play out on this extraordinary turn of events. For Billy had known there was a chance that he might encounter Alice, and, more importantly, he had already prepared dialogue should that encounter arise. Though he had purported to Dominic the exact opposite, even from France, in his heart this was the course he’d hoped for. Now, returning from Paris, was all the more rich an experience for the chance that he might play out his role in this ill-fated story, skimming through various scenarios, circumstances and moods to generate moves on a mental chess board. Each time he played out his moves he undoubtedly always arrived at the same conclusion — she does not love you nor ever will. And this pained him and caused him to re-negotiate his game.