‘Netta!’ Freya’s shout was urgent. ‘Netta! Let me in!’
Netta squeezed her eyes shut again, willing herself invisible. Unreachable. For Freya to just leave her alone in her cave. The pain in her belly flared and she moaned into the heat of it.
‘Netta!’ Freya’s voice was frenzied now. ‘I can hear you! Can you get to the door?’
Netta propped herself up, her arms barely able to support her weight. She went to the door, opening it a crack to see Freya clutching a paper bag from the chemist, Jed strapped to her front, sleeping, and Maisie and Kit hiding behind her legs.
‘I know this isn’t ideal,’ Freya said, gesturing to the kids. ‘But your phone was off and I didn’t have anywhere I could leave them. I panicked. I’m so sorry. I just needed to know you were okay.’
Netta shook her head. ‘I can’t—’
Freya thrust the bag at Netta. ‘I got you some pads and pain killers.’
Freya’s eyes were an apology. Netta could see she felt like shit for bringing the kids. Sheshouldfeel like shit for bringing them. Netta took the bag and started to close the door.
‘Netta, wait.’ Freya lightly held the door. ‘Look,’ she said, glancing at Netta’s hips.
Blood had soaked her tracksuit pants while she’d lain on the couch, leaving a crimson bloom on the fabric. Netta paled and wavered on her feet, her back finding the wall.
‘Let me be here for you,’ Freya pleaded. ‘Matt can be here in an hour to get the kids.’
Netta nodded, swallowing the nausea enveloping her, and stepped back as Freya and the kids came in.
‘Here,’ Freya said to Maisie, fishing an iPad from her handbag. ‘Take this to the couch and watch something with Kit, okay? No fighting.’
Maisie nodded earnestly, her anime eyes guarded as they flicked between Freya and Netta. She took her little brother’s pudgy hand and vanished to the lounge.
‘Let’s get you sorted,’ Freya said as she wrapped her arm around Netta, supporting her as they made their way to the bathroom.
Netta stood in stony stillness on the tiles. Freya’s face was waxen, sadness and sympathy written all over it, her bottom lip wobbling as she embraced Netta, whose arms hung limp, unable to return her friend’s affection. Repelled by the presence of Jed pressed between them. Grateful not to be alone. Distantly aware of the sound ofPeppa Pigthrough the wall.
‘Come on,’ said Freya. ‘Arms up.’
Netta relented, letting Freya slide her T-shirt up and over her body and tug her pants to the ground. Freya held them still so Netta could step out of them, her hand gripping the sink for balance. Netta pressed her lips together against a swell of emotion and went to step into the shower.
‘Underwear first,’ said Freya gently.
Netta stopped and looked down at herself. ‘You don’t want to see this.’ Tears blurred her vision as she took in her friend’s concerned face.
‘You don’t have to do this on your own. Wait here.’ Freya vanished from the bathroom and returned without Jed. ‘He’s on the bed. Between two cushions in case he wakes.’ She shifted her gaze to the bulge in Netta’s knickers. ‘Is that loo roll in there?’
‘Yeah.’ Netta’s voice felt alien, like a hollow duplicate of her own.
‘Toilet,’ instructed Freya, guiding her backwards. Her face dropped as she saw the discarded blood in the bowl. ‘Oh, Netta.’
‘I couldn’t flush it,’ Netta sobbed. ‘What if it’s in there? I can’t flush my baby down the toilet.’ She slid her knickers past her hips and let the sodden toilet paper fall into the bowl as she sat.
Freya bundled up the blood-soaked clothes and made them disappear, returning with a fresh outfit and the chemist bag. ‘There are pads in here for you.’ She set the bag on the vanity and started the shower, holding her hand into the stream as it heated. ‘It’s nice and warm,’ she said, after a few moments. ‘You ready to get in?’
Netta nodded silently.
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Freya closed the bathroom door softly behind her.
Netta unclipped her bra and let it fall to the ground, the two steps to the shower an agonising distance. She stepped in and steadied herself, hands pressed flat on the tiles. The warm water swirled pink around her feet and ignited her raw skin, as though her every nerve was exposed and vulnerable. As her tears mingled with the deluge, a blackness descended that felt visceral. Thick and impermeable, like a weighted shroud pinning her to the pain and narrowing her vision to a pinprick, through which the only thing she could see was what she’d lost.
Chapter Fifty-Two
MO
