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Back Going Under Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I BIRTH
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. PART II LIFE
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. PART III DEATH
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. FORTY-SIX
  54. FORTY-SEVEN
  55. FORTY-EIGHT
  56. FORTY-NINE
  57. FIFTY
  58. FIFTY-ONE
  59. FIFTY-TWO
  60. FIFTY-THREE
  61. FIFTY-FOUR
  62. FIFTY-FIVE
  63. FIFTY-SIX
  64. FIFTY-SEVEN
  65. FIFTY-EIGHT
  66. FIFTY-NINE
  67. SIXTY
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  70. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The connection dies just as I am considering smashing the screen with my fist. This is typical of Fabien, I tell myself. He’s just so charmingly agenda-less. Everyone else I know lives by the ticking of a clock. Fabien, though, never wears a watch and seems to just go where the wind takes him, which is why we have no future—and is also why I like him so much.

The heart wants what it wants, Winnie says in my ear, even though she’s back home at number 19 and I’m alone in a hotel room in the Netherlands.

Rather than drowning in self-pity, I decide to skype my housemates.

‘You’re alive!’ Max shrieks into the camera, slurring his words. I realise, too late, that it’s 1 am at home. In the background, I see the usual suspects.

‘Did you meet Fabien?’ Winnie’s face bobs onto the screen. Her voice is higher-pitched than usual and she’s holding a giant wineglass.

‘He missed his flight,’ I say, wishing suddenly that I was back in Sydney getting drunk with my mad friends.

‘What?!’ I hear Estelle exclaim indignantly. ‘What a fucking dick!’

‘He wouldn’t have meant to,’ Winnie defends him. ‘If you met the guy you’d understand. He never means badly, he’s just a bit …’

‘Hopeless?’ I say.

‘So, what are you going to do, mate?’ Max asks. ‘Are you going to fuck him off?’

‘I might wait one more night,’ I say. ‘He thinks he can get the next flight and I’ve got the hotel for three nights.’

‘Just go and smoke some hash and meet another guy,’ Max advises, ever the pragmatist.

‘Look, Kitty …’ Winnie is back. ‘If Fabien can’t make it tomorrow, just forget about it. Like, I love the guy but he needs to be more organised. You can’t put up with this shit. If he doesn’t come just fly somewhere else. Where does your flight home leave from?’

‘Copenhagen.’

‘Well, just fly back to Copenhagen.’

‘I agree!’ I hear Estelle shouting from behind her. ‘Kitty Holliday waits for no man!’

I leave them to their night out—or night in—and decide to go to bed. I feel drained of energy now. The whole whirlwind trip has exhausted me.

I sigh and switch off the light. Outside, the red-light district is just kicking off. Welcome to Amsterdam.

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I fly back to Copenhagen at five the following evening. My three-day European love fest had turned into a twenty-four-hour sob fest. The last I heard from Fabien, he was still trying to get a seat on a plane. I take Winnie’s advice and cut my losses.

This, I tell myself, is why following your heart never works. It only leads to one place, and that’s heartbreak town. Much easier to have an unrequited crush on a fifty-year-old surgeon.