Page 27 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘I miss those times. I miss Will.’

Both of those statements came as a surprise and she had nothing to say in response, except: ‘Oh, Colin. What are we going to do with you?’

18

OUTRAGE IN EQUAL AMOUNTS

It was almost ten-thirty by the time they arrived home. When she got out of the car, Netta was faced with the unusual sight of two men waiting in windows for her. Two lovers, one past and one present at two separate windows, in two separate houses. She was too tired to speak to either of them but speak to them she must, because there was still one burning question that needed to be answered. And since Colin wasn’t giving her any kind of answer at all, she needed to ask them.

Frank opened his front door. Of course he would, why wouldn’t he? For all his stupidity about Doogie, he’d been golden about Colin. As far as she knew, anyway. Doogie on the other hand remained in the window, predictably aloof. Wasn’t that always the way? Well, he could wait. Frank had made the choice for her.

He stepped back to let them into the hall. ‘How did it go?’

‘Nothing broken,’ said Colin.

Frank shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Can I get you both something to eat?’

‘We got fish and chips.’ It was a harmless enough thing to say but she felt ridiculously disloyal for saying it.

Frank cast his eyes downward. ‘Oh.’

And there, in that one small word was the reason why she felt bad. ‘We were both starving,’ she said, in an effort to redeem herself.

‘Righto. A drink then? I have beer, wine, whisky.’

‘Better not. I’ve had some strong painkillers,’ said Colin.

‘Right,’ said Frank. ‘Tea then?’

Netta was already on her way to the kitchen. ‘Tea would be perfect.’

Colin nodded, a little too eagerly for it to come across as natural. ‘Yeah, I could murder a cuppa.’

Frank clapped his hands together. ‘Tea it is then.’

They filled the wait for the kettle to boil with nothing talk – the long wait in the hospital, Frank’s big day tomorrow. It was all meaningless chatter aimed at masking their embarrassment. And it was clear, they were all embarrassed, even if they were each embarrassed about different things.

Colin picked up his mug of freshly made tea. ‘I think I’ll take mine up to bed. I’m shattered.’

Frank looked relieved. ‘Will I tell Arthur you won’t be going to the allotment tomorrow?’

‘Thanks. I could do with another rest day.’

‘Shall we take this in there?’ Frank gestured towards his studio.

They went in and Netta closed the door behind them.

‘He won’t come in here. He never does,’ said Frank.

She joined him at the little table by the French windows. ‘Really? I’d have thought he’d like being here amongst all the art.’

‘You’d have thought so, wouldn’t you? Has he said anything about what happened?’

‘He refuses to say. I wondered if you knew anything about it.’

‘Not really, no. The first I knew of it was just before I came outside to you. He was fine the last time I saw him. That was yesterday evening.’

‘So it wasn’t you then?’

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