Spray Painted Bananas

Chapter 28

I can hear the tap tap of fingers on a keyboard as I make my way upstairs. It's Egg, busy at work. I wonder if he's writing a new book. I wonder if he's going to mind being interrupted like this. But there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep with all these thoughts running through my head. I just have to talk to someone.

I rap on the door. 'Egg... Egg...'

The tapping stops. 'Mmm?'

I take that as an invitation and open the door into his dimly lit bedroom. There's a single spotlight arched over his laptop which is in the middle of the most cluttered desk I've ever seen. He swings around on his seat and looks at me with a bemused expression.

'Egg, I'm in love,' I announce. 'With Farrell.'

He frowns and scratches his beard. 'Why are you going out with Elliott then?'

'Because I'm an idiot!'

I flop onto his bed with a groan, landing on something hard which produces a sharp squeak.

'Ouch!'

I pull out from underneath me a bright yellow plastic kitten curled up in a plastic 'wicker' basket. The tiny hole in the base tells me its a bath toy.

'Ah, yes, the alternative to the classic duck,' Egg says. 'I'm not rating it too high because on the whole cats aren't fond of water. There are exceptions however, there's a breed called the Turkish Van...'

My eyes have adjusted to the dull light and now I can see that I'm surrounded by cat related paraphernalia. There are toys all over the floor, in plastic packages and brightly coloured cardboard boxes. His desk is not covered with the usual mess of books and papers but with tins of cat food, packs of biscuits, felt balls, cat collars and what looks like doll's clothes but must be cat costumes. My great revelation is relegated to second place as I try to get my head around what I'm seeing.

'Where the hell did you get all this stuff from?'

Egg looks disappointed. 'You don't want to know about the Turkish Van cat?'

'No, I want to know what's going on!'

'Yes, right, yes...' he say, slapping his hands together. 'It's just I've added a whole section on the Turkish Van in my new kindle book and...'

'Egg!'

'Alright, well...' He looks suddenly sheepish. 'Let's talk about you first... you and Farrell... so, Irish Catholic, am I right? Is that going to be a problem?'

'Egg! Where does all this stuff come from?'

'I may have borrowed your little idea about filming Rupert, and I may have posted a few films online, and they may have generated millions of hits, led to a few advertisers getting in touch and erm, lots of freebies... but, don't be mad, because I'm doing it for us!'

My mouth drops open. 'If you're doing it for us, then why did you keep it a secret!'

'Not for 'us' as in you and me,' Egg says, looking surprised. 'I meant for Bibiana and me. For our future.'

'Are you completely nuts?'

'I'm calling it The Cat Empire.'

'Isn't that an Australian band?'

'Yes, it's wonderful, anyone who looks for them will end up on our site.'

'Our site? Seriously, are you crazy? Have you even told Bibiana what you feel?'

'Have you told Farrell what you feel?' he shoots back.

Touché. I look down at my hands and pick at my nails. 'No... I brought Elliott to Farrell's poetry reading and it was a total disaster.'