Chapter Ten Netta
Chapter Ten
NETTA
The sun sparkled off the water at Williamstown Beach as Netta and Freya strolled side by side, Saturday morning takeaway coffees in hand, with Maisie and Kit scooting ahead, their faces smeared with ice cream.
Netta had barely slept since the break-up and while four nights awake with only her thoughts for company had left her feeling like a deranged rat in a wheel, it had given her a lot of time to weigh up her options.
Freya dipped her face to kiss the downy crown of baby Jed’s head as he snuggled against her chest in the carrier. ‘What made you change your mind?’ she asked.
‘I need the money for my mortgage,’ answered Netta flatly.
‘I can’t lose the apartment when I worked so hard for it.
And if I am ever lucky enough to have a baby, I want them to have a stable home.
I hated moving around so much as a kid. If I have to go to London to make that happen, then I will.
And besides, if I sold it now, I’d never get back into the market. ’
‘It’ll be nice to be back in your old place again.’ Freya gave Netta’s shoulder a reassuring pat. ‘I think you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Hope so.’ Netta squinted against the sun and took a sip of coffee. ‘I emailed the estate agent, asking them to give the tenants four weeks’ notice this morning. I feel bad about it, but what else can I do? And they’ll get Christmas and New Year’s there before they have to move.’
‘You shouldn’t feel bad. That’s just renting,’ said Freya. ‘They’ve had a good run there, and at the end of the day, it’s your place and you need it. They’ll be fine.’
Netta winced, guilt still gnawing at her. ‘I know, but—’
‘But nothing,’ said Freya. ‘I forbid you to feel another iota of guilt over this.’
Netta smiled. Freya knew her and her conscience all too well. ‘Noted.’
‘So, tell me the plan.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll do this crazy trip, collect the cash, come home and move back into the apartment once it’s empty. In the meantime, I’ll be your live-in babysitter. Maybe you and Matt can actually have some date nights.’
Freya looked misty-eyed. ‘You mean I can wear grown-up clothes again?’
Netta smiled. ‘Yes, nice ones. And maybe even a bra that doesn’t clip open at the front.’
‘Whoa. Fancy.’
‘Honestly, I just feel like I’m stuck in quicksand at the moment,’ said Netta, returning to the conversation. ‘I need something crazy like this to pull me out. Work has been so full on this year, trying to get pregnant has been a total rollercoaster, and now Pete and I …’
‘It really has been a tough year for you.’
‘Yep.’ Tough felt like an understatement.
Netta felt like she’d been run back and forth along a cheese grater, left raw and bloodied, reduced to a pile of shards that she now had to somehow put back together.
She’d had it all worked out: she and Pete would have a baby and live happily ever after in the little suburban weatherboard with the neat garden.
The End. This sudden plot twist was jarring to say the least, a bomb under her existence to say the most.
‘But, and I hope it’s okay for me to be blunt here—’
‘Nothing’s ever stopped you before.’
‘I never really liked Pete.’
Netta laughed. ‘You say that as though you haven’t made it abundantly clear since the day we started dating.’
Freya gave a sheepish shrug. ‘I’m just saying, I know it hurts like hell right now. I know it’s shitty and depressing. I know Pete is a gigantic hairy ballsack of an excuse for a man. But maybe, in the long run, it might work out to be a good thing.’
They walked in silence for a few metres, Netta letting Freya’s words sink in, doing her best to ignore the envy she felt for her friend’s perfectly put-together life with Matt and the kids. The contrast with her own had never been more stark.
‘So,’ said Freya, her tone lightening, ‘have you told Mr Maplestone that you’ve changed your mind?’
Netta nodded, relieved to have a new train of thought to follow. ‘I have. His manager is booking my flights.’
‘Do you think they’ll work out who you are from your real name being on your passport? I’m assuming you had to give it to them for the booking?’
Netta shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Nobody in the UK knows me as Antoinette and my real name was never used in the media coverage. I was Annie back then. “Annie the Nanny”. I don’t think they’ll join the dots.’
‘And your hair is different now too.’
Netta nodded. ‘And, if Wikipedia is correct, Morrison didn’t move to the UK until the year after I came home, so he probably never even knew about it.
It was major in the UK but it barely made the news here.
’ She took a sip of coffee. ‘I’m still terrified someone will work it out, Freya.
I’m so scared someone will recognise me. ’
‘You’re being really brave.’ Freya passed her coffee to Netta so she could hoick Jed up a bit and adjust the carrier’s straps. ‘But I bet nobody even looks twice at you. It’ll be fine.’
Netta puffed out a pent-up breath as she passed Freya’s coffee back to her. ‘I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?’
‘So …’ A smile spread across Freya’s face. ‘Let’s distil this, shall we? Are you, Netta Phillips, actually telling me that you’re flying first class to the other side of the planet to meet the one and only Morrison Maplestone?’
‘I guess I am,’ Netta answered. ‘Holy shit.’
‘Holy shit indeed, my friend.’ Freya let out a low whistle as they picked up their pace to catch up with the kids.
‘Can we play on the sand, Mummy?’ asked Maisie as they approached.
‘Sure thing, honey,’ answered Freya. ‘This old mama needs a break anyway.’
Kit and Maisie dumped their scooters in the middle of the path and jumped off the bluestone wall down to the sand. Netta retrieved the scooters and sat down next to Freya, who was swaying in an effort to keep Jed asleep now that the soothing motion of her walking had stopped.
Netta took in her surroundings. The bin fire her life had become was so at odds with this idyllic setting that it was almost offensive. Happy families on the beach. Kids laughing. Seagulls squawking. The bloody sun shining. It was all so rude.
‘I know this might be too early,’ said Freya, ‘but this break-up of yours has been spectacularly timed.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, you’re leaving the country next week to meet Morrison Maplestone, Netta. I mean, now that you’re single, you’ll be able to do all the sex with him.’ She waggled her eyebrows.
A snort exploded from Netta’s nose. ‘Oh my God. I’m not going to sleep with him! Get a grip! I don’t want anything to do with any celebrity, ever again. That particular lesson is not one I need to learn twice.’
‘Sleeping is the last thing I’d like to do with Morrison Maplestone,’ said Freya, ignoring Netta’s protests.
‘Sexing is what I’d like to do with him.
But given I can’t and you can, you must. You simply must.’ She clutched Netta’s shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.
‘It is your solemn duty.’ She released her grip and took Netta’s hand in hers.
‘But seriously, maybe this whole thing has happened at the exact right time. Maybe—’ she paused for dramatic effect, ‘—you found that diary for a reason.’
Netta closed her eyes and tipped her face to the sun, breathed in its warmth, and turned to smile wryly at her friend. ‘Oh, yeah, sure. Maybe this whole ridiculous fiasco is written in my stars,’ she said, theatrically twinkling her fingers up at the sky.
Netta knew Freya was just teasing, but maybe she was on the money.
Maybe Netta did need this trip to be able to move forward, and not just in the financial sense or to forget about Pete.
She’d been ignoring her time in London—burying it—for years now, but that hadn’t made it go away.
Maybe the future she wanted depended on facing the past she’d been trying to forget.