Oh, right. ‘I remember.’
‘He’s going to convene an emergency meeting of the Society Board’s crisis sub-committee, first thing Tuesday morning. In the meantime, I’ll write a statement for you that we’ll release to the media. It’ll have to go right up to the Chair of the Board for approval, though. They’ll all have an interest in you now.’
Kelly felt as though her tiny patients must when they find out how truly sick they are: helpless, buffeted, confused. ‘What will it say?’
‘You’ll apologise unreservedly. We’ll talk about stress and overwork. Hint at your mental health issues but we can’t blame them. People won’t cop that.’
‘What mental health issues?’
Juliana raised her eyebrows. ‘The ones that make you completely fucking crazy.’
Kelly bit her tongue. She didn’t have mental health issues, but she wasn’t exactly stable. She could admit that, at least.
‘The most important thing to do is keep you away from the media. No interviews. You’re going through a crisis, respect your privacy, yada, yada, yada.’
Kelly stopped herself from denying she was in a crisis. This was absolutely a fucking crisis.
‘You can’t stay here. Those weasel journalists will be camped outside your apartment hoping to goad you into an explosive response the moment you walk through the lobby doors.’
‘How will they know where I live?’
Juliana waved her hand dismissively. ‘Please.’
Kelly didn’t know what that meant but Juliana moved on quickly.
‘Have you got somewhere you can stay for a few days until this all blows over?’
Finn came immediately to mind. Her room was always there.
But then she thought of Ashley and Finn. She’d had no word from him on how their date night went, which meant there was every chance Ashley had stayed the night. Kelly couldn’t go there. Finn would never turn her away, but she couldn’t share his apartment with another woman.
‘I’m having Easter lunch with my parents today. I can stay there a few nights.’
‘Good, you need to be gone from here in half an hour.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because if I go over this early, they’ll make me go to church with them.’
Juliana tapped her foot and bit her lip. ‘Well, is there anyone who can shield you for a while?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Anyone who’s not an instantly recognisable, attention-drawing soap star?’
Kelly wanted nothing more than to see Finn.
But there was also someone else.
***
Toula was a living, breathing stereotype of the chic new mum. Dressed head to toe in skintight active wear, she pushed her designer pram as though it was a fashion accessory. Her six-month-old son, Jackson, slept soundly, oblivious to his mother’s wild gesticulations and unnecessarily loud voice. That same voice Kelly had loved for decades.
Toula was recounting a story about an altercation she’d had with one of the mums in her mothers’ group. ‘So she said to me, “We’ve decided to adopt inclusive language in the group. Can you please refer to it as chest feeding?” This is immediately after I’d been complaining about the torture of enduring Jackson’s first tooth on my already raw nipples.’
A man walking in the opposite direction crossed their path at that very moment. The words ‘already raw nipples’ made him blush like he’d walked in on Toula giving birth. He scampered quickly away.
Toula didn’t even notice. ‘So I said to her, “Trust me, sweetheart, it’s definitely breast feeding.” And then I flopped my left tit out and threw Jackson on even though he’d just had a feed. Didn’t stop that insatiable monster, of course – he’s got his father’s obsession for my boobs – but it certainly shut down that crazy lefty idiot. I mean,chest feeding. Give me a fucking break, Kel. Can we not even call them breasts anymore?’
There was something deeply disturbing and yet, at the same time, deeply comforting about Toula’s refusal to integrate other people’s beliefs into her world. Kelly felt simultaneously appalled and magnetised by her friend’s borderline extremism.
