The Baghdad Hotel

At first glance Narelle Benatsky and Gwyneth Paltrow would seem to have little in common. One is brunette and curvy; the other blonde and willowy. One lives in Melbourne; the other in London. One is a full-time mother of two boys; the other is a Hollywood movie star with a little girl and another baby on the way. Yet Narelle, 33, and Gwyneth (or at least her character in the hit movie Sliding Doors) share one of life’s most profound experiences: how they met the man they intend to spend the rest of their days with.

Destiny played her maverick hand in both stories – not, as is often the case, by putting each woman in the right place at the right time, but by putting her in the wrong place at the right time. For Gwyneth’s character it was the quintessentially London location of an Underground train she wasn’t meant to catch. For Narelle, it was the true blue Aussie setting of a neighbourhood pub she wouldn’t normally frequent.

It was a rainy New Year’s Eve in Melbourne in 1995, and although Narelle had never been one for resolutions, the night was to be more auspicious than she could ever have guessed; it would change her life forever. “I hadn’t planned to do anything for New Year,” she admits. “Myself and a friend, Kim, had been out the previous night and we were still feeling a little tired. But her boyfriend Bill said that was a really poor attitude to have so we ended up going to this pub in Collingwood called the Baghdad Hotel. I’d never been there before because I lived a little way out of town in Highett in the south-eastern suburbs – and it just wasn’t my type of place anyway, a bit rough. But Bill said some of his mates from football were going to be there so away we went.

“I was just out on the town to enjoy my new-found slimness. I’d lost 15kg by cutting out most fat, sugar and red meat from my diet, along with exercise, exercise, exercise! I’d broken up with my boyfriend earlier that year and I guess I’d lost the weight to prove a point to him and to myself.”

Finding a life partner though, or even a new boyfriend, was the furthest thing from Narelle’s mind. “My mum had told me there wouldn’t be any marriage material in a place like the Baghdad Hotel, and to start with I thought she was right. It was pretty quiet when we got there and no-one caught my eye.”

However that all changed when a young man called Jason walked into the pub with a group of football mates – as it turned out, the same group Narelle’s friend Bill was a part of. But Narelle’s first impression of Jason was not a good one; far from it. “I noticed him as soon as he arrived because he had a shaved head. I was horrified. He looked really aggressive, like the skinhead Russell Crowe played in the movie Romper Stomper. I didn’t want to speak to him at all looking like that.”

Of course Jason, now 33, was nothing like a skinhead. A credit manager who moonlighted as a DJ and, like many other Aussie blokes, a keen sportsman, he had just had his hair cut that week. “Before that it was probably slightly longer than most but I felt like a change so I had a number two all over,” he explains.

Like Narelle, Jason was keen to try out his new look on members of the opposite sex – but he wasn’t expecting to discover his soul mate at the Baghdad Hotel on New Year’s Eve either. “My mates and I grew up in Collingwood so we’d go there all the time. It was a youngish crowd and they had good rock cover bands. That night we were just out to have a few drinks and a good time... and if you meet someone, you meet someone.” He sheepishly admits he must have seen his future wife with Kim and Bill on the periphery of his group but “didn’t take much notice”.

Meanwhile Narelle, a born extrovert with a good line in witty conversation, had got chatting with another group of revellers at the pub. She almost went with them when they left to see in the New Year at what she thought might be a more salubrious venue. “They asked me to come but I felt awful about leaving my friends so I stayed.”

Fast-forward a couple of hours to the midnight countdown and the traditional New Year’s Eve kiss, and Jason and Narelle were the only two unattached people left in the pub. Seeing a pretty girl by herself on the other side of the room and buoyed with Dutch courage, Jason did what any red-blooded male would and made his way over. “Everyone had coupled up,” Narelle recalls. “And I saw Jason, and his shaved head, coming my way. I was going to dash off to the bathroom and hide rather than be embarrassed but someone got in my way and I couldn’t escape.”

In Hollywood romances, the kiss would seal Narelle and Jason’s fate; their hearts would be entwined forever – but in the smoky confines of an Aussie pub the reality is a little more prosaic. “I said, ‘Happy New Year’ and gave her a kiss on the cheek and that was that,” Jason explains. “It was pretty civilised – and pretty awkward.”

“The skinhead look was doing nothing for me,” Narelle laughs. “I wasn’t even going to waste my time having a conversation with him – I thought we’d have nothing in common. But everyone else was off dancing so I asked Jason what he did for a living. When he said he worked in accounts, I thought, ‘Oh, he must be all right then’. I mean how many psychopathic accountants do you know?”

The pair chatted easily for half an hour or so before Narelle’s friends rejoined them and they drifted apart. There were still no sparks flying but when Jason noticed Narelle sitting by herself later, he went over to join her and they fell deeper and deeper into conversation. The smoke and hubbub of the New Year’s Eve celebrations receded into the distance and it was like they were the only two people in the room. “We talked for ages and I just found him so interesting,” Narelle recalls. “He had this Aussie bloke thing going on but I could see past that. He was sensitive, he treated me as an equal and he was ambitious. That’s when I decided: ‘This is the man I’m going to marry’.”

As the bartender called last rounds, Narelle made her first move towards fulfilling that hopelessly romantic dream. “I didn’t want the conversation to end so I invited Jason back to my place. I told him nothing was going to happen that night and he said he respected that. Kim and Bill were staying with me anyway.”

The four caught a taxi home to Highett, where they continued to talk well into the small hours, “discussing life, the universe and everything, and solving the world’s problems”, before one by one drifting off to sleep. The next day was spent in the same manner of easy companionship: Narelle cooking breakfast then lunch and the group lounging around chatting, laughing and watching TV.

“I was living at home so I rang my mum in the morning to let her know I was okay,” Jason recalls. “She was fine; happy in fact that I’d met someone. I think she had me married off already!”

But while Narelle would have happily accepted a proposal then and there, love hadn’t even crossed Jason’s mind – let alone marriage. “I thought she was a nice girl and I really enjoyed her company but that was the extent of it at that stage.”

So much so that when Narelle drove him home that evening, she was the one who initiated further contact. “He was just about to get out of the car when I said, ‘Well, don’t you want my phone number? And can I have yours?” she laughs.

“I was playing hard to get,” Jason deadpans. But it was Jason, not Narelle, who made the first call, to invite her to dinner and a movie the next Saturday night, followed by a romantic walk along St Kilda beach.

“The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her,” he says. “She’s so intelligent and I always wanted to find someone who was good to talk to. Plus she’s got a great sense of humour. We just felt right together.” And Narelle needed little convincing. “He was one of the few guys I felt I could be myself around – and when his hair started growing longer again he was a real spunk!”

Pretty soon the couple were seeing each other every second night. “I wasn’t driving at the time so I relied on Narelle to come and get me,” Jason recalls. “Because we lived across town from each other it was a 40-minute trip.”

“He’d ring up late at night and say, ‘Fancy ice-cream?’ so I’d change out of my pyjamas and go get him,” Narelle smiles.

Despite late-night romantic outings like these, Narelle’s dreams of marriage remained exactly that – dreams. “The first birthday I had after we started going out, I was sure Jason was going to give me an engagement ring; the present was the right size and everything, but it was a gold bracelet. I was so disappointed.” “You could see it on her face – it just fell,” Jason recalls. “I actually said, ‘What did you expect? A ring? Well, you’ll be waiting a while; I love you but I just don’t believe in marriage’.”

Some women might have given up but not Narelle. Destiny had revealed its hand to her – if not yet to Jason – and she was not going to fold and risk losing everything. She knew he would eventually realise they would make the perfect husband and wife team so she agreed to move in with him in the meantime. The couple found a flat in Northcote and life glided happily on.

A few years later they were celebrating the anniversary of their meeting by spending New Year’s Eve 1997 at a swanky hotel in the centre of Melbourne when the subject of having children came up. Both expressed a deep desire to be parents, and that’s when Narelle played her trump card. “I said well, he’d better find someone else to have children with because I wasn’t ever going to have them out of wedlock,” she smiles. Realising there was no-one he would rather raise a family with, Jason got down on bended knee and proposed then and there.

“I called my mum Lyndall as soon as it was light,” Narelle recalls. “And she said, ‘I bet you asked him!’ But I didn’t have to – he finally understood he couldn’t live without me.” But it was the reaction of Jason’s mum Anna that said the most about the profound effect Narelle had had on her son. “Mum was delighted of course,” Jason remembers. “But she was really surprised too. She thought I’d never settle down with anybody; I just wasn’t that kind of guy – until I met Narelle.”

Words: Kieren Charteris. Photography: Andrew Lehmann. Hair & make-up: Julie Corbet.