Page 51 of Anxious Hearts

Finn sat in the plastic bucket seat with his eyes closed.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He probably looked like a nut with an intense fear of flying, but it was all he could do to manage the gnawing ache in every nerve end of his body.

He desperately needed a hit but there was no way he could bring coke to an airport.

He heard giggling and opened his eyes. Directly opposite him in another row of seats were two teenage girls.

He smiled at them. They blushed furiously and turned their heads towards each other with such conviction, they banged foreheads, which made them giggle even more. And turn crimson with embarrassment.

People started to look at him quizzically with Hey, don’t I know you?

faces. He stood up and searched for another place to wait but the departure lounge was full, every seat taken.

He could have gone to the business class lounge, but he didn’t think Kelly would look for him there.

He’d emailed her boarding pass so she could check her bags in and come to the gate. And he needed to be here when she did.

If she did.

He walked to the far corner of the lounge and a deep and shameful part of him hoped she wouldn’t turn up so that he could go and get a coke fix before this gnawing ate him alive.

He clenched his fists with self-loathing, despising his pathetic addiction but knowing he’d do a line right now without hesitation if it was offered.

He took up an observation post and looked out over the lounge.

He could see the approach and every single passenger who arrived from his vantage point.

It was six twenty-five and she still hadn’t appeared.

Kelly was never late. It wasn’t her style.

But she was cutting it fine – if she was coming at all.

The first boarding call was announced. Business class and special needs passengers.

Finn sneered inwardly. He was clearly both but didn’t move.

Then the riff-raff was invited to board.

They lined up with slavish obedience, winding around the rows of seats.

One by one by one, they scanned in, endured the fake smiles of the aircrew and shuffled down the gangway like lambs to the slaughterhouse.

Finn checked his watch. Six forty. The crowd was thinning but there was still a queue. At six forty-five, he knew it was over.

A flight attendant approached him. ‘Excuse me, sir, are you on this flight?’

‘I was meant to be flying with a friend, but she hasn’t turned up. So I’m not going.’

She looked annoyed. ‘Do you have any checked luggage?’

Finn laughed. It had taken all his mental acuity to pack the small carry-on bag at his feet. ‘No.’

The attendant’s face cleared. ‘Did you book both seats at the same time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, then, if you give me your name, I’ll be able to tell if your friend has checked in.’

‘Finn Walsh.’

She fake smiled, but with great conviction. ‘Please follow me, Mr Walsh.’

Finn trailed behind the attendant to the check-in counter and waited while she tapped away at a keyboard. Finn’s hand had begun to shake and he was sweating. He’d said no to all the screening questions but nobody had asked if he was suffering intense cocaine withdrawal symptoms.

‘Can you please confirm the other passenger’s name?’ the attendant said.

‘Kelly O’Mara.’

‘According to our system, she checked in half an hour ago.’

‘What? Half an hour? Then where the hell is she?’

‘Finn. I’m here.’

He spun around.

And she was. Kelly was there, standing in front of him. The relief washed over him in such a flood, he felt like he was going to weep. She’d made it. He’d convinced her. She was going to be okay.

‘You’re our last two passengers to board,’ the attendant said. ‘If you could please present your boarding passes, we’ll get you straight onto the plane.’

Kelly was already holding hers. She handed it to the flight attendant, who ran it over the scanner.

Finn was rummaging in his bag to find his pass when his phone started ringing. He found that first and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Esme. ‘I’m sorry, I have to take this,’ he said. ‘I’ll be one minute.’

The attendant dropped the fake smile routine. ‘Sir, we don’t have time. We need you to board immediately.’

Kelly had already started walking down the gangway. She stopped and looked back at Finn, one hand on the handle of her wheelie carry-on bag, the other clutching an old black briefcase.

Finn answered his phone. ‘Esme, I’m about to get on a plane. Can I call you later?’

‘What? Where are you going?’

‘I’ll tell you when I’m back. I’ve got to go.’

‘Do not get on that plane.’

The tone in Esme’s voice stopped Finn dead. ‘What’s happened?’ he said.

‘Your audition has been moved up. It’s now midday tomorrow. Wherever the hell you were going, don’t.’

‘Fuck,’ Finn said. His mind raced to calculate when he would need to leave Newcastle to make it back in time for his audition.

He couldn’t make the numbers line up in his mind, but he concluded it would be early.

Really early. He’d be a wreck, though. Tired, trembling from withdrawals, looking like shit.

Maybe he could get a hit in Newcastle? He’d have to find it tonight so he could double down before the flight back.

But what if there was a delay? What if he couldn’t get a ticket?

Based on his surprise at how many people were travelling to Newcastle this evening, it was likely just as many were trying to get out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was the biggest audition of his life. There was no way he could risk missing it. The smart decision would be to stay in Melbourne. And Kelly was here now. She was practically on the plane. She’d be fine from here on.

Finn looked up at Kelly. She was staring straight at him from halfway down the gangway.

Even from that distance, he could see the fear and doubt in her eyes.

But he had to be smart about this. Had to make the right decision for the long-term future for both of them.

Staying was the smart and sensible play. Staying was his only choice.

‘I’ll be there, Esme.’

‘You better be, Finn. This is your last chance, after all the shit you’ve been pulling lately. I can’t keep you on the roster if you fuck this up.’

‘I said I’ll be there.’

Finn hung up before Esme could say another word, handed his boarding pass to the attendant and strode towards Kelly. Staying with her was his only choice.

***

Finn’s leg shook violently. What had he done?

This was a disaster. He’d ruined his life.

The old devil was closing in on him again, no longer kept at bay by his white powder defences.

He hadn’t felt this kind of oppressive anxiety for weeks.

It gripped him so fiercely that his breathing was laboured and his senses were overwhelmed.

He hadn’t been eating properly and now his body seemed to be mocking him, as though it was seeking vengeance for all those stimulants.

All those downers. The cocktail of chemicals that numbed and muted its natural desires.

Now, he felt weak. Starving, yet unable to eat for the mounting pressure on his stomach. Plagued by thoughts of doom, yet unable to clear his head for the fog of confusion that had settled over his mind. Fuck, he needed cocaine. And he needed it now.

They’d been in the air for an hour. Kelly had been mostly quiet, lost in her own thoughts, but she turned to him now, perhaps noticing his uncontrollable leg spasms.

‘Are you all right?’ she said.

Finn gave a sharp series of nods. ‘Yep, yep. Just a nervous flyer.’

Kelly narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ve never been a nervous flyer.’

‘Late bloomer.’ Finn tried to smile but he could feel the tension in the muscles of his jaw. Even his lips. He must have looked like a condemned man grimacing as the noose was wrapped around his neck.

Kelly studied him closely. She leaned across the oversized business class armrests so she could speak quietly and still be heard against the din of the plane’s engines. ‘When was your last hit?’

Finn didn’t even consider lying. He was at that desperate stage of anxiety where truth and confession combine in a kind of salve against the fantasies of the mind. ‘Three o’clock.’

‘Withdrawal symptoms?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just freaking the fuck out.’

‘Coke withdrawal doesn’t hit you physically. It usually manifests as anxiety, fatigue, even paranoia. It’s okay, Finn. I’m here.’

‘What if they stop me at the airport and do a drug test or something? Could I go to prison?’

Kelly held his hand. ‘Finn, you can’t go to prison for having drugs in your system. And they don’t do drug tests at the airport.’ Her eyes widened and she lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. ‘You don’t have anything on you, do you?’

Finn shook his head.

‘Thank God for that.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘We can do this. You get me through my exam and I’ll get you through withdrawals.’

Finn nodded and forced a smile. There was no way he was getting through the next twenty-four hours in withdrawal. He knew what he needed to do.

***

Finn had graduated from buying his coke from Cam the sound guy to sourcing it through social media apps. It was as simple as ordering takeaway pizza once he was hooked into the right groups. So, on arrival at their hotel room in Newcastle, it took only a little extra effort to find a local dealer.

Fifteen minutes after placing his order, Finn waited in a side street beside the hotel where guests entered the car park.

He kept his eyes open for the courier, who may or may not be the dealer himself.

It was all code names and anonymity, so he never knew, or particularly cared, who was who in the hierarchy, as long as they delivered on time.

A dark car approached the car park entrance, driving slowly.

The front window began to wind down and Finn walked to the driver’s side.