Extract — Because All Fades, by Freddie Gillies

Andrew and his girlfriend Jess are making a life for themselves in London, but it's a bit of a grind, and now their relationship is beginning to suffer. Andrew's best friend Jaryd on the other hand is living every young man's dream - a beautiful apartment in Paris, a happy relationship with the lovely Liv, and a business venture gone global. When the two couples head off on a summer road trip around Italy, relationships are tested by temptation, drugs and an accident that will come to define them. As the four of them seek reconciliation their love for one another is challenged, setting in place a series of events that will force closely guarded secrets out into the open. Because All Fades explores the precariousness of happiness and the tragic consequences facing men unwilling to talk about their emotions. An extraordinary novel written by an exciting new voice in New Zealand fiction.

Because All Fades by Freddie Gillies, published by Bateman Books, RRP $37.99, available now. Extract:

They finished the wine before the food. Andrew felt the room become gentler the more he drank. He started watching the characters at other tables: the old man with the suit jacket and slicked-back silver hair, the nervous young couple avoiding each other’s eyes, the bombastic owner who was gaining momentum with every new customer and jumping between tables and the kitchen like an erratic fly avoiding the swat. ‘Andrew . . . ? What do you think?’ said Jaryd. Andrew turned his head slowly and deliberately. ‘What did you say? Sorry I wasn’t listening.’ ‘You never are,’ said Jess. They all looked vampiric with ruby- stained lips. ‘I said, shall we pay up here and go to a bar?’ ‘Lead the way, captain!’ said Andrew. Jess squeezed his thigh again, digging her nails into his skin. He moved away quickly and hit the table leg with his knee. Outside the rain came down harder, lashing the windows of the restaurant. Andrew paid the bill, tipping the waiter slowly so Jaryd could see. They stood in the doorway while Jess found a nearby bar on her phone, then they ran together from shelter to shelter until they reached the road that followed the perimeter of the old town. Faintly, Andrew could make out the Isola del Campo, a battered rocky outcrop in the bay, struggling to stay afloat under the weight of the storm. There was music coming from within the bar. They went inside and found a table. A group of men sat at a table not far from theirs, watching football on a stuttering television. ‘We should go and make some friends — what do you think?’ said Jaryd. ‘They’re watching the game, Jay, maybe let’s leave them to it,’ said Olivia, sipping her wine. ‘No, it’ll be fun! Come on!’ said Jaryd. He didn’t wait for an answer. Olivia and Jess didn’t move. Jaryd called back and, begrudgingly, Andrew followed. The young men sat in a ring of chairs around the television. The most enthusiastic support was coming from those wearing football jerseys, who would stand up every minute or so and gasp or pinch their thumb and fingers together and wave at the screen in outrage. Jaryd pulled up two seats from an empty table and planted them near the men. ‘Ciao,’ said Jaryd loudly with a twang that was irrepressible and unflattering. ‘How’s the game going?’ One of the men looked at Jaryd and then Andrew. ‘You are not from here,’ he stated. ‘No, we are from New Zealand,’ said Jaryd slowly, enunciating in the painful way travellers did for people who didn’t speak their language. It wasn’t long before Jaryd was commanding the attention of the group. Andrew smiled and did his best to keep up with the names, the broken responses, and the way the conversation cracked into shouts and cheers when the game heated up. They offered them shots of grappa which Jaryd accepted, throwing them back with the abandon of a man who’d already had too much. He became sloppy, spilling beers on tables and cheering at the wrong moments. Andrew felt the warm glow of their hospitality wane and tried to get Jaryd’s attention to pull him away. ‘Jay, Jay!’ he yelled. Finally, Jaryd turned. ‘What?!’ he yelled. ‘Come on, let’s go back. The girls are alone.’ ‘They don’t mind!’ Andrew grabbed his arm and pulled him towards him, smiling at the guy they’d spoken to at the beginning and mouthing ‘sorry’. ‘What are you doing?’ said Jaryd flatly. ‘We’re going back to the girls. Come on mate, rein it in.’ Jaryd protested and then conceded, following Andrew back to the table where Jess and Olivia were talking intently. ‘How are your new friends?’ said Jess. ‘Good until Andrew made us leave. Highly antisocial if you ask me.’ Andrew said nothing. ‘Well, we’re happy you’re back,’ said Jess, blinking slowly. It was getting late but they ordered a final bottle of wine and drank it quickly, despite their drunkenness. Jaryd stole glances back at the football match, as if it were teasing him with the hope of a different night, one that would end in far more debauchery than the one he was committed to. Andrew yawned and thought about the bed in the house with its soft white blankets and views of the ocean. ‘Shall we call it a night?’ he said. The girls agreed and Jaryd followed dutifully out the door into the rain. They huddled under the cover of the pergola, which was sagging under the weight that pooled on top. ‘Why do you always want to call it so early, Andy?’ said Jaryd suddenly. ‘I don’t always call it early.’ ‘You’re always calling it early. Tonight, for example,’ Jaryd said. ‘You’re lucky I want to call it tonight. I thought one of those guys was going to punch you.’ Jaryd looked hurt. ‘Why would they punch me?’ ‘Because you were being an idiot.’ ‘Fuck off.’ ‘Both of you, just give it a rest, for fuck’s sake,’ said Olivia. They hurried along the wet streets towards the house. Andrew checked his phone. It was almost midnight. The storm was in full force, the sky flashing with lightning which turned night into day for a fraction of a second. The town was quiet. All the restaurants were either closed or closing, the last of the nightshift cleaning the tables or counting the money from the till. Jess and Olivia ran ahead, darting under cover wherever they could find it, while Jaryd lagged and Andrew hurried him along. The square was empty and glistening from the lights that hung off the church tower, illuminating the fresco. Olivia dashed towards the fountain where there was a covered seating area, the seat carved out of the concrete as if it were part of the fountain itself. Jess joined her and they waited for Andrew and Jaryd to catch up. When they did they were both out of breath and Andrew was swearing at Jaryd. ‘Why would you say that? You can be such a dickhead sometimes, mate, honestly.’ Olivia and Jess looked at Andrew quizzically. ‘What’s he said?’ asked Olivia. ‘Ask him!’ spat Andrew, rainwater billowing from his lips. ‘Jay? What’s going on?’ Jaryd was sitting on the seat, running his hands through his hair so that it stuck up like he’d touched a wire. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. ‘Why don’t you ask him, Liv? The prick would enjoy the attention,’ spat Jaryd. ‘Don’t talk to him like that!’ said Olivia. ‘Why is it so hard for you two to get along?’ ‘I don’t know, Liv,’ said Andrew quietly. ‘You know,’ said Jaryd. ‘Jay . . .’ said Andrew. They didn’t notice the man approaching through the rain. ‘What? Come on, Andy, just own up to it! Everyone knows it’s true. It may as well be etched on your forehead.’ ‘Jay, one more word and I’m going to hit you.’ ‘Guys, please, for God’s sake!’ yelled Jess. ‘There’s someone else here,’ said Olivia suddenly. Freddie Gillies will be in conversation with Airana Ngarewa, Avi Duckor-Jones and Jack Tame at the Auckland Writers Festival 14 – 19 May. For more information and tickets visit www.writersfestival.co.nz

About the author

Freddie Gillies is the author of The Big Bike Trip about a round-the-world bicycle trip he completed with his friends in 2017. He graduated from the University of Auckland with a double major in International Relations and History. Freddie is interested in exploring topics of friendship, love and loss in his writing. When he's not writing he can be found cycling, writing music, walking in parks or planning his next adventure. Freddie currently lives in London.