A Place Beyond The Horizon Ch. 09

[Aidan's marriage has been shattered by his wife's cheating. Unable to cope with the thing she did, he boarded a plane and put as much distance between them as possible. He finds himself in Australia, making new friends in Sydney, including a pair of mates on a road trip around their vast, empty continent. He's also met Kat, sharing her bed, the first time in many years that he's been with a woman who isn't his wife. Now, he's working for Mara Fey, the Hollywood A-Lister and one of the most famous women on the planet. Meanwhile, Rosa had cut off all contact with him, leaving Aidan more lonely than ever.

The background to Aidan's story can be found in Oxygen Games by oneagainst, continued here with permission.]

---

METHOD ACTING

The trees pass like ghosts as they drive. Light filters into the sky behind them but up ahead it's still dark. Aidan has the music down to a whisper as Mara sleeps, curled up in the reclined passenger seat, wrapped in her jacket. Aidan finds himself stealing glances over at her every once in a while. Asleep, her face is warmer, her pretty lips are full and soft, devoid of the influence of the mercurial mind behind the façade.

He took over just after midnight and has been driving ever since, working in shifts with Mara. She's desperate to get somewhere, but he doesn't know where they're going to. Neither, he suspects, does she. Instead, they're both preoccupied with how fast they are moving away from where they were, leaving the nameless something behind them.

The washed-out light of pre-dawn renders the landscape they're passing through in neutral shades, the red earth and the smooth bleached-blonde trunks of the trees reduced to monochrome. They crest a low hill and on the near horizon, up against the sky, there is a solitary eucalyptus on the ridge, flaming in the rich golds and yellows of the rising sun. Carefully, Aidan slows down and pulls off the road.

Mara stirs, gradually untangling herself from the coat covering her. She looks up at him blearily, her blonde hair in disarray. Her gaze locks onto him and she blinks the sleep from her blue eyes.

"Sorry," she grumbles, "Morning face."

"You look fine," Aidan replies.

Mara screws her face up. "No, I don't. No-one should have to see this."

Mara sits, wiping her palms across her cheeks and then tucks strands of loose hair behind her ears. She looks through the car window at the landscape and straightens herself up.

"Oh, wow," she gasps.

"Yeah."

"It's all changed."

Aidan follows her gaze to the ridge line and the solitary tree. The dawn has crept down the trunk to the ground and everywhere they look, the crests of the hills are kindled with the sun's first light. Aidan gets out of the car and goes around to the front, leaning back and taking in the view. The air is crisp. He hears a door open and Mara joints him, pulling on her jacket against the dawn chill.

"There's nothing for miles and miles, all the way to the horizon," she murmurs.

"Remind you of home?"

"Kinda. Kansas looks so different. But there's the same feeling," Mara replies, "The space. The endless sky."

The car is warm to sit on, and they watch the landscape slowly coming to life in the stillness. Gradually, the colours seep into the trees and the rocks and the land again, painted fresh by the new day's light.

"Where are we?" Mara asks.

"About half an hour from Broken Hill, according to the map."

"Where?"

Aidan shrugs. "Never been, never seen."

Mara contemplates the view, then stands.

"It's a town, right?"

"Yeah."

"Towns have coffee."

"I guess."

"You need to get me to coffee, Aidan. Don't let me down."

Mara turns and pecks him on the cheek. She's smiling playfully, like a kid. Aidan can't help but smile back. They get into the car and pull back onto the road.

The country undulates gently, sometimes exposing wide views but mostly giving them a confined horizon of red earth and bushland. The first house is a startling contrast, and soon they're driving down a suburban street with single-storey wooden homes on either side. A little further, and the dwellings give way to a steady procession of pubs and shops with wide, corrugated iron-roofed verandahs shading the street.

"I guess this is where it all happens," Mara observes, then points excitedly, "There. They're open. Pull over."

Aidan stops the car in front of a coffee shop. A girl is setting out a table in the front, though it's early still and there's no-one around. Mara twists her hair up into a loose bun with practiced ease and pulls up the hood of her jacket.

"You're going in there?" Aidan asks.

"Yeah."

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what?"

Aidan frowns. "About being seen," he says.

Mara grins. "Trust me," she says and gets out.

Aidan follows her into the coffee shop, but he finds himself scanning for people, like they're fugitives. There's a closed-circuit camera mounted on the wall behind the till and two customers at a table inside, both with phones out. The girl is behind the counter, setting out croissants in the display case next to the till. She looks up as Mara approaches.

"G'day," Mara says in an Australian accent, "Flat white please."

She turns to Aidan, who is struggling to contain an astonished look. "What d'you want?" she asks.

"Uh, same," Aidan blurts.

"No worries," Mara replies, then turns back to the girl, "And can ya chuck in a couple of croissants too? Cheers."

The girl nods. "Take a seat, I'll bring them over," she replies.

Mara pays and they take the table outside on the street. She sits down and pulls out the other chair for Aidan.

"Sit down," she says, still in the accent, "Take a load off."

Aidan complies. Mara's grinning at him.

"You're not concerned?" he asks.

"About what?"

"Getting spotted."

She gives him a sly wink. "What would Hollywood star Mara Fey from America be doing in this town in this coffee shop at six in the morning?" she says, "It's much more likely that I just look a lot like her."

"You can drop the accent now, it's just us."

"Nah, mate. Secret it to commit to the role. I'm a method actor, remember. How do I sound?"

"Different. Where'd you learn it?"

Mara shrugs. "Dunno. It's something I can just do. The secret though, the thing that screws most people up, isn't the accent, it's the dialogue. You have to listen to how people talk, the words they use. Mate, not dude, and then the thing where they shorten words, you noticed that?"

"No."

"Fuck, mate. You're real shit at this. Best leave the talking to me."

The girl arrives with their coffees and croissants. Mara flashes her a smile. The girl hesitates for just a moment, but then turns and goes back inside.

"Eat up," Mara says, "Then we need somewhere to get a shower and then get our heads down, I'm buggered from all the driving."

"Really, you can drop the accent now."

"Then I was thinking we have a look around the place in the arvo."

"Mara, what the fuck is an arvo?"

Mara grins at him and pulls her croissant apart. She stuffs a piece into her mouth.

"We're gonna have fun today," she says.

---

They drive back along the street afterwards looking for a place to stay. Mara settles on a couple of rooms upstairs in one of the modest hotels on the main street. Aidan doesn't comment on the sleeping arrangements, and they both turn in for a few hours sleep. They spent the afternoon looking around town and then head out into the landscape on a bushwalk.

Through it all, Mara keeps up the accent even when it's just the two of them together, until Aidan stops noticing it. Her demeanour has changed too; she's calmer, less hurried. The morning sleep seems to have done her good, as if she's beginning to recover from the manic schedule of the last week.

They talk, the conversation flowing easily between them. Mara asks about Aidan's background, touching on the subject of Rosa and why Aidan is a long way away from his wife. He can sense that she isn't probing for gossip, though: Mara is genuinely interested. When Aidan reveals how his wife cheated, she's sympathetic in a way that Aidan hadn't expected.

They talk about her too, about her plans and about the film shoot coming up. Mara talks about the part and they swing around to the subject of the screenplay on her laptop. They're working their way up over a rise, kicking up dust on the stony track, and stop for a water break.

"How do you turn it into a movie?" Aidan is asking.

"Yeah, well you need a crew for that. Fortunately, I know a guy who knows a guy. They then also know other guys, and you pull a crew together. By guy, I mean girl. If I can get her to direct, it'd be awesome."

"Who?"

"Ah, that's premature. I need to finish writing it first."

"How far through are you?"

Mara screws up her face, then takes a drink from her water bottle.

"Not far," she confesses, "I have the layout but I need to get the words down. I need to put meat on the bones."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Shit."

She caps the bottle and slides it back into her pack.

"Trouble is nailing the main character. I mean, the last movie, like I said, I did a couple ridealongs with the cops to get a bead on my detective's character. Kinda hard to do the same this time around."

They begin to walk again, heading back towards town. Mara's brooding now, Aidan can tell.

"What's on your mind?" he asks.

"Just thinking," she replies, "Just, it's about the script. How do you write about a life you've never experienced in a way that the people who have don't just call you out as a fake?"

"I guess it's up to your imagination."

Mara shakes her head. "No, it's about putting the work in, doing the research."

She stops suddenly, and Aidan nearly walks into the back of her. In the distance, the roofs of the town are visible.

"Fuck," she breathes, "That's insane."

"Huh?"

When Mara turns to him, her beautiful blue eyes are glittering with supressed excitement.

"Are you up for a night out tonight?" she grins.

---

It's past dark. Aidan is nursing a beer at the pub, on his own. The barman has marked him as a tourist and is polite, but his face comes alive as he's serving the regulars. Aidan has the impression that a lot of the people around him know each other. They've probably grown up in Broken Hill, he thinks, a shared history that doesn't readily admit outsiders like him.

Aidan's not sure what he's doing, sitting on his own at the bar. He scrolls through his phone, waiting for Mara to arrive. She'd just said that she needed time to get ready and that he should go get a drink first. His fingers seem to move on their own, looking at a post from Ant back home. Then, he sees an entry from Hardy, showing Flint in the background in the middle of a vast landscape. There is a girl with them he doesn't recognise. Hardy is staring into the camera, wide-eyed, while the others are laughing. It looks like they're all having fun. Aidan reflects on Hardy's dark secret and wonders if he's told Flint yet of the real reason for the road trip. Looking at Flint in the background, Aidan suspects not. He enters a comment.

Aidan is aware of movement to his left, and he looks up from his phone. The barman has come to a halt too, both men staring at the woman who has walked up to the bar. She's wearing a short skirt that shows off the trim curve of her bottom, bangles on her wrists, hoop earrings and a little too much make-up. Her long, shapely legs are bare, and she's balancing on four-inch heels. Her blonde hair is styled in cascading ringlets over her shoulders. It's Mara.

"White wine, please," she says to the barman in her Australian accent.

Mara doesn't make eye contact with Aidan, she's watching the barman's reaction instead.

"No worries," he replies.

There's a reluctance in his tone, and he's slow to pour her glass.

"Quiet night?" she asks and the barman nods.

"Yeah, but it'll pick up a bit, later. Midweek."

"Yeah, good."

She pays for the drink and takes a sip, but the barman's still watching her.

"All good?" she asks.

He nods, "I guess. Just passing through, are you?"

"Yeah."

"That's good."

He begins to turn away, but then he stops.

"Just a word, love," he says, "Bethany's pretty territorial. Just watch yourself."

Mara takes another sip of wine, and the barman smiles.

"You know, you look bloody like that actress," he says.

"I know," Mara replies, "It helps."

"Yeah, reckon you get a bit extra for that?"

"I guess," Mara replies, "Guys like to fuck a film star."

The barman smiles, "Yeah, well, mind how you go."

Aidan watches the barman move off to serve another customer, leaving him with Mara. He turns to her, but before he can say anything, she cuts him off.

"How're you going?" she asks.

Mara smiles at him, but it's not Mara. The smile doesn't reach as far as her eyes, and he finds himself staring at her face, the bright red lipstick, the rouged cheeks and the dark, smoky eyeshadow.

"Good," Aidan stammers, "I think."

"Just passing through as well?"

"I guess."

Mara settles onto the barstool next to him, crossing her long legs carefully and leaning against the bar.

"On your own, or are you waiting for your girlfriend?"

She's waiting for him to reply, but he's struggling. He stares at her, trying to take it all in.

"I meant," she continues, "If you're alone, do you want company?"

She leans forward almost imperceptibly, but the effect is striking, putting her plunging cleavage on show. Despite himself, he glances down at her breasts in the tight dress and she smiles.

"You shouldn't drink alone," she purrs, "It's bad for your health."

Mara brings the glass to her full, red lips and proceeds to empty the contents. She sets the glass back down on the bar, her eyes still on Aidan. She glances at the empty glass and Aidan comes to life. He sticks a hand up and the barman comes back over.

"Uh, whatever she's drinking," Aidan says.

"White wine," the barman replies, then looks at Mara, "It was only a minute ago."

He pours another glass and slides it across to Mara, but she's looking at Aidan now. She raises an eyebrow.

"I'll get this," Aidan volunteers.

"Yeah, good on ya," the barman replies, taking the money.

Mara picks up the glass and sips it demurely.

"So," she says, "Where you heading?"

"Uh, I dunno."

"Well, which direction did you come from?"

"Sydney."

"Ah, yeah. I'm on my way there. Got a gig at a club. High end though. Just gotta get there."

Aidan listens to her talking. She's studied her character and has her backstory worked out. There's a trace of a smile on her lips, daring Aidan to test her.

"You from Sydney originally?" he asks.

"Nah, born up in Queensland, came south when I was sixteen with Mum."

"Oh, what job did she do?" Aidan fires back, testing her.

"Hotel work, mostly," Mara grins.

She's enjoying this, improvising on the spot.

"Just you, or other kids?" Aidan asks.

"Four of us," Mara replies with a sigh, as if remembering something unpleasant about her siblings.

"You the oldest?"

"Youngest."

"By how many years?"

Mara supports her hand with her chin and fixes her piercing blue eyes on him.

"Well there's Francis, he's the firstborn and then Maeve came a year later, then there's a bit of a gap of two years to Chris and then another two years to me. We're fairly closely bunched."

"So how many years older is Francis?"

"Six," Mara fires back.

"But I thought you said...."

"His birthday's in a couple of months so then we'll be back to five years apart."

Mara's eyes are sparkling, daring him to go again. She's ready for whatever he can throw at her.

"So you got an older sister."

"Yeah, Maeve," Mara fires back quickly.

"Nice name."

"We're all Irish Catholics down my Dad's side."

She opens her mouth to elaborate further, but then stops. Her eyes flick past Aidan's shoulder. He turns to see what's distracted her.

A woman is pacing towards them across the floor. She's in her mid-twenties with long, straight blonde hair and a grim expression. Her body is squeezed into a white dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mara rise from her stool.

"The fuck?" the newcomer hisses.

Aidan can see she's furious; her grey eyes are hard as marbles and locked onto Mara. Aidan gets up off his stool, placing himself between the two women. Incredibly, Mara steps around him to confront the newcomer.

"Problem?" she asks.

"Fuck yeah. Imagine I just got a ping that there was a slag in the bar picking up punters."

"So?" Mara counters, "What's that to you?"

"How about you take that broom handle out of your arse and we have a word outside?"

"Why would I want to talk to you?"

"Don't get cute."

The girl is seething now. Aidan can feel the eyes of everyone in the pub on them, watching the little scene unfold. Mara's face is set. She isn't backing down.

"I don't know where the fuck you came from," the girl says, "But I suggest you fuck off back there."

Mara smiles, folding her arms over her chest. "Ah, so you must be Bethany. I heard about you."

Bethany smiles back, but there is no humour in it. The anger seems to fade. Mara's smile widens.

"Bob's a good bloke," Bethany says, "So I'm not going to do this in his bar, but you, outside now."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll drag you out by your piece of shit hairdo, bitch."

Her word are quiet but there is a tone to her voice. Bethany doesn't want to ruffle feathers with the owner, but she's making it clear that there's no way out for Mara. Aidan has seen fights start. He knows when it's serious: Mara is in real trouble.

"Let's go."

Aidan blinks in surprise at the words from Mara. She downs the remainder of her wine and places the glass on the bar.

"Lead on," she tells Bethany.

Aidan wants to tell her that this isn't a game, that Bethany isn't playing, but Mara seems oblivious. He begins to follow on behind the two women. The barman calls after him.

"You sure you want to do that, mate?"

Aidan just shrugs.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," the barman calls behind him.

Outside, under the streetlight, both women are standing face-to-face. Aidan hurries to intervene.

"Hey," he calls out, but Mara ignores him.

Bethany turns. "What do you want?" she snaps.

"Look," Aidan begins, "I don't know what the deal is, but don't I get a say?"

Bethany's face creases up. "What?" she hisses.

Aidan ploughs on. "I mean, the customer is always right, right? And I'm the customer."

Bethany is seething, but she doesn't speak. She's working out her next move, but before she can, Aidan continues.

"If I'm the customer, I get to choose, right?"

"I guess," Mara says, her face giving nothing away.

Bethany draws herself up, running a hand through her blonde hair. She seems to steady herself.

"Yeah," she admits, finally, "I guess. So, since you're the customer, who you gonna pick?"

Bethany's attention switches to Mara. She steps close to the other woman, the corners of her mouth curling upwards into a tiny smile.

"I guess," she begins, "Well, let's look at the merchanise on offer over here."

Mara is staring back at her, chin up, defiant. She puts her hands on her hips.

"I guess you might be after the older model," Bethany continues, "Just how old are you anyway? You're probably twice my age. Come to think of it, you look so familiar. Who do you remind me of?"

Mara's expression hardens and Aidan finds that he's holding his breath.

"Yeah, that's it. That Hollywood tart. Oh shit, is that your gig? You're a celebrity fuck? Yeah, I can see that now. You're like an older version of that American chick who can't act for shit, Mara fucking Fey. But, if that's what you're into, then I suppose good luck to ya."