Page 28 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘Of course it wasn’t me.’

‘Only I know how he gets under people’s skin. I just wondered?—’

‘Well wonder no more. I didn’t touch the fella. If it was anyone around here, it was probably yer man Doogie.’

‘Why? Why would it be Doogie?’

Frank shuffled in his seat. ‘He just seems the sort.’

Netta’s hackles rose sharply. ‘And what sort is that, Frank? The black sort?’

‘Jesus, no. That’s not what I meant at all. How could you think such a thing? You know I’m not like that.’

‘What did you mean then?’

‘He can be sinister, the way he looks at you. Like he’s trying to work out the best way to rip your head off.’

‘Sinister. I see. And is that the way he looked at you when you met him on the beach by Grace’s farm?’

Frank’s mouth clamped shut. He went to pick up his mug then, seeming to change his mind, clutched the top of his legs and looked at his lap.

She stood up. The chair clattered to the floor. ‘I think we’d better leave it at that, don’t you?’

He looked out into the garden. Clearly, he had nothing to say. He’d already said too much.

Her own house was empty, with the exception of Doogie and the dogs. ‘Where is everybody?’

Doogie leaned against the door frame. ‘Your mum and dad went home, and the kids went to the pub.’

‘The pub? Their dad has a face like a busted football, and they’ve gone to the pub?’

‘Yep. They waited until you messaged to say he was okay though. It’s not like they left as soon as you were out the door.’

She brushed past him and went into the lounge. Even now, the closeness of him made her hairs stand on end. ‘Did you punch Colin?’

He laughed. He actually laughed. Until he saw she wasn’t joking. ‘You’re serious. Why would you…? Hang on, has he accused me of assaulting him?’

‘No. He won’t say what happened. I’m just trying to eliminate you from my enquiries.’

‘Your enquiries? You’re fucking kidding me, right?’

‘I just have to know.’

Doogie kissed his teeth. He was fuming. Absolutely raging. She could tell by the look in his eyes and the thin smile on his lips. This was his way of containing things. She knew that, but somebody who didn’t know him, like Frank, might see it as sinister. ‘You have to know. Gotcha. All right, Miss fucking Marple, let’s just look at the evidence, shall we? One, I haven’t left your house since I got here yesterday. Two, the closest I’ve got to Colin the Wanker was half an hour ago when you pulled up outside. Three, I am not a violent man. I do yoga, for fuck’s sake. And even if I was, why would I beat the guy up when he’s obviously lost any will to live? Where’s the fun in that? And four, how could you even think that? You prick.’

‘Oh, I’m a prick?’

‘Yeah, you are. Now calm the fuck down. You’re upsetting the dogs.’

Netta dropped down onto the sofa. One by one, the dogs came in from the hallway to sit by her. She ran her hands along their backs until she was more like her usual self. ‘I’m sorry.’

Doogie sat next to her. ‘Was that for me or the dogs?’

‘Both. But just for the record. You did used to get into fights, and you always came out on top.’

‘Yeah, when we were kids. And “for the record” I only got into fights because other people started on me.’

She put her head on his shoulder. It was true. To her knowledge, he’d never started a fight. ‘If it makes you feel better, I asked Frank as well.’

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