‘Mandy, the truth is, I was never happy being married to your dad, but I didn’t realise that until I’d had both you and Blair. He wasn’t a terrible person, but he wasn’t a great husband either.’
Mandy sat back, clearly stunned. ‘But all those times that I said you should leave him? Begged you to stop putting up with how he treated you? If that’s how you felt, then why did you stay with him?’
‘I don’t know,’ Netta answered honestly, feeling a strange sense of freedom as she spoke. ‘I had children with him, I had a home, safety, stability, security. Maybe that was enough at the time. But the point is, I understand heartache. I understand wanting more.’ She rewound the conversation in her mind to Mandy’s earlier points. ‘I know what it’s like to have my heart broken, to be sad and to want something you can’t have. And I also know what it’s like to keep all those feelings inside because you think no one will understand or care. Well, here it is, Mandy – I care. So don’t judge me without giving me a chance, because maybe neither of us knows the other one as well as we thought. I might not have all the answers, but I’ll always listen.’
Today was a day for firsts. When she’d got here, it was the first time she’d seen Mandy cry in decades. Now was the first time she’d seen her articulate, ballsy daughter be speechless.
Before Mandy could find her words, the café door opened and her assistant, Issy, dashed in. ‘Sorry, Mandy, but you weren’t answering your phone and I guessed you’d be here. Your clients are here for your two-thirty meeting.’
Mandy grabbed her bag and jumped up. ‘I need to go, Mum. I’m sorry.’
Netta stood up too, then remembered why she’d come here in the first place. She quickly pulled the envelope out of her bag and tucked it into the front of Mandy’s tote. ‘I was coming to your office to give you this. There’s an event at my work tonight and I’m allowed to bring a guest. Maybe somewhere that we can be together without speaking would be a good place to start to get to know each other again. I hope you’ll come.’
Mandy’s eyes were darting to the door, barely even paying attention to Netta’s invitation. ‘I can’t, Mum – I have something on. Maybe we can talk later in the week…’
Netta had heard this from her daughter many times – yet ‘later in the week’ never seemed to come around.
It was after three o’clock when Netta got home, grateful for the walk to clear her head. She thought about changing into her usual work uniform of slacks and a shirt but caught herself in the bedroom mirror and changed her mind. The yellow special occasion dress could stay on. The canteen was only going to be open for a couple of hours before the screening, and if the dress got stained or damaged, well, sod it. What would a young Netta have done? She would have worn the bloody dress.
Decision made, she freshened up, put on some lippy and a dash of Estée Lauder Youth Dew, her favourite scent, and set off.
The Academy was a fifteen-minute walk away and she was glad of more time to process her conversations today, especially the one with Mandy. Netta didn’t know what had possessed her to blurt out the truth about how she’d felt during her marriage to Fergus. Had sharing that been a mistake? She’d been trying to relate, but was this going to drive an even bigger wedge between them? Before she could answer her own questions, her phone rang again, sending her diving back into her handbag. She hoped it was Mandy, but no, wrong phone.
‘Hello, this is Netta on the Family Listening Line. I’m here to listen to whatever is on your mind today,’ she said as she walked.
‘Netta, it’s George. I’m just phoning to report back, like I said I would.’
Netta took a deep breath, pushed all her own worries to one side and concentrated on George. This was his time. She could worry about her own feelings later. It wasn’t like she didn’t have all the time in the world to think these days.
Her brain raced to catch up with their last discussion, but George filled in the blanks before she got there. ‘I met with Barbara from the doctor’s surgery for soup and a sandwich.’
‘Oh, right, so you did, George. How did that go then?’
‘I’m not going to lie to you, Netta, it wasn’t great. She talked about herself for an hour and a half. And, you know, I like to chat to people who have something to say, but, dear God, my ears were burning by the end of it. And I can’t even ask her for an appointment to see a doctor about that, because I’ll need to change surgeries now.’
Netta couldn’t help chuckling along with the joke.
‘Oh, George, I’m sorry to hear that. Did you not manage to get a word in?’
‘Barely a single one. I started off with, “Lovely to see you, Barbara. I’m glad you came…” And she said, “Well, I nearly didn’t because I’ve got gout in my big toe, and…” And that was it. She was off and running. Gave me a complete rundown of her medical history, including a step-by-step description of her ailments. I tell you, the bug she picked up in Torremolinos put me right off my coronation chicken toastie.’
Netta was belly laughing now and realised that was a completely inappropriate response to a client who was sharing his woes. Although, many of her regulars sat right on that line between stranger and friend. It was hard to speak to someone at least once a week for over a year and not strike up a genuine connection with them. Which reminded her, she wondered how Kiki and Ava were feeling right now. They’d soon be on the way to the Academy and young Ava must be a bag of nerves. Such a lovely lass. She’d be keeping an eye on her tonight to see how she was. From a distance, of course.
But one client at a time – and right now George was her priority.
‘And did you pay the bill after all, George? I know you were worried about offending her.’
‘Offending her? She told me that her and her ex-husband had separate bank accounts, and she’d insisted that he pay for everything, including the divorce. Poor bugger. I feel I got off lightly – the lunchtime special was only £5.99.’
‘Well, at least you tried. So what’s the plan now?’
‘You mean, apart from putting in an application to change my doctor?’ He said it with a wry laugh, so she was fairly sure he wasn’t serious.
‘Yes, apart from that.’
‘Och, I don’t know, Netta. Maybe I’ll join a book group. Or a bowling club. I was thinking about sky diving, but my Violet used to say you shouldn’t take a flight that didn’t come with duty-free. I think she might be right about that.’
The tenderness in his voice when he spoke about his late wife made Netta’s heart ache. ‘I think so too.’
