Page 35 of Loving Netta Wilde

Colin chewed on the last mouthful of the dinner Geraldine had sent over for him. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he’d started eating it. There’d been a packet of crisps around mid-morning but other than that, he’d not eaten. It was surprising how easy it was to forget food when your heart wasn’t in it. And let’s face it, his heart hadn’t been in it for quite some time. Still, if anyone was going to revive his interest in that area it was going to be the ex-mother-in-law. He’d say one thing for the old bat, she could make a mean pie. It was good of her really, especially considering how much she hated him. And there was no doubt in his mind that she did hate him. When he and Netta first got together, he’d tried his utmost to get on with Geraldine, but it was a waste of time. She’d wanted Chambers for a son-in-law, and he was never going to be a good enough replacement.

They were all in there now, in Netta’s house. A family meeting. He’d overheard Liza talking to Frank, like he had some kind of parental privilege over her. He’d wanted to burst into the room and shout: ‘Hey, I’m the daddy here,’ but he couldn’t even be arsed to do that. And anyway it would have made him look like a complete and utter wanker. Colin the Wanker. Chamberscalled him that. Another thing he’d overheard, this time through an open window. Netta probably called him that too. Although, last night in the park with her. It had been special. When they’d got back he’d gone up to bed and had a quiet little cry. Pathetic really, but that was the state he was in right now.

He washed and dried his dinner things and put them on the side ready to go back next door. It would be easy enough to drop them over but of course, he wasn’t allowed. He was like a prisoner on parole, except that rather than be sent back to prison if he broke the rules, he’d be thrown out. This place of Frank’s was like a prison. There was no heart to it. Unless Netta or Liza came round, which wasn’t that often. It was no wonder Frank spent most of his time next door.

The dogs were spilling out into the two gardens. The meeting must have finished. It was about him, he supposed. What are we going to do with Colin the Wanker? Unfortunately, he had no insight of his own to share with them in that regard.

The little dog, Maud, walked up to the house. Colin pressed himself up against the kitchen window to see her better. She stopped at the French windows waiting to be let into the studio. He took a step towards it. No, he couldn’t go in there. He turned away towards the hall, just as Frank was coming in with his own dog, Fred. ‘I’m away out. I’m leaving Fred here. Liza’s coming over soon.’

‘Is she coming over for any particular reason?’ he asked, although he knew it would be to pass on some new directive that they’d decided would be in his best interests.

‘To check you’re okay, and to talk to you about going back to the allotments. I’ll be late, so can you let Fred into the garden a couple of times?’

‘Sure.’

‘You won’t forget him though, will you?’

Colin sighed. ‘No, I won’t forget him.’

He watched Frank go past Netta’s, then stop and turn back for someone. It was Will. Colin’s heart missed a beat. A huge great sob came from somewhere within. He put his hand across his mouth to stop it coming out as he watched his son strolling along with Frank.

He turned away and with Fred at his heels, went upstairs to his room. Flopping down onto the bed, he pulled Will’s sweatshirt out from under his pillow and breathed in its mildly bitter scent. There had been a time when his son and daughter loved him unquestioningly. There had been a time when he’d been on top of the world. And there had been a time when he’d thought he was untouchable.

‘Dad, you in?’ The sound of Liza’s call made him jump.

‘Yeah. Give me a minute.’ Colin put the sweatshirt back in its hiding place behind the pillow and wiped his eyes. Then he went downstairs to see what fresh hell the family Wilde had dreamed up for him.

Frank and Liza were looking at paint charts when Colin came down in the morning. ‘Liza’s helping me choose the colours for the bedrooms. They haven’t been touched in a long time.’ There was no need for Frank’s explanation. The lack of upkeep was quite evident. As was the lack of housekeeping.

Liza gave Colin the kind of smile that was worth getting up for. ‘Grandad’s next door. He’ll be here in a minute.’ She was so like her mother sometimes. The only thing she’d inherited from him was his fair hair.

Back in their university days, Netta bleached the top layer of her dark hair, àla Debbie Harry, and she’d wear this little pink tutu over the skinniest, tightest jeans, along with a Clash T-shirt. Sometimes, when he was having trouble with what Arianne rather disparagingly referred to as his manhood, he’dthink about that and bingo, he’d be going like a train. He found the T-shirt in the loft after Netta had moved out and had made the mistake of showing it to Arianne. Before he knew it, she’d bought the exact same one. She’d done it to show him how much better her body was than Netta’s. But a voluptuous fifty-year-old can never get away with the kind of style a skinny twenty year old can, and as always, she’d missed the point. It was about the person, not the clothes. Not that he dared tell her that. Obviously.

It was slightly longer than a minute but not much more when Arthur emerged from Netta’s house. Liza virtually pushed Colin down the path to meet him. She’d laid it on really thick last night and he’d had no option but to agree to go back to the allotment. He’d already lost one child and he damn well wasn’t going to lose the other. Besides, he was sick of looking at Frank’s poorly maintained walls and he couldn’t stand the thought of being around all day while the two of them did their pseudo father-daughter painting love-in.

When he saw Chambers walking down Netta’s path, Colin halted. Liza gave him another nudge, but he refused to move. ‘I think I might have forgotten to say Doogie was going too,’ she said. ‘You’re cool with that, right, Dad?’

Well, obviously, he wasn’t cool with that, and she bloody well knew it. He’d been conned by the one person he thought had his back.

‘Dad? You are going to go, aren’t you? You’re not going to shame me.’

Colin pressed his lips together. There, she’d gone and done it, used the word shame. Young people speak for embarrass me, let me down, disappoint me. Whatever. It was all guaranteed to make him feel even worse about himself. ‘Of course I’m not going to shame you. Looking forward to it.’ Hmm, maybe that was much. She’d know for certain he was lying now.

‘Amazing.’ Liza hugged him. And then she shoved him into Arthur’s arms. ‘He’s all yours, Grandad.’

‘I’ll follow in my car,’ said Chambers.

At least Colin didn’t have to share the same space as him. At least they didn’t have to fight over who was going to sit in the front, because Colin knew who would win that particular argument, and it wasn’t going to be him.

‘Right you are. Colin, why don’t you go in with Doogie, in case we get split up? As you know the way.’

Liza nodded in a kind of egging on manner. Fuck. He was up shit creek without a paddle. Colin gritted his teeth. ‘No problem.’

Chambers gave him a look as they both got into the car. If Colin had to describe it, he would have said it was sinister. There was every chance he wouldn’t get to the allotment alive. Liza was beaming at him. Well if he died today, at least he could go to his final resting place knowing he hadn’t shamed her.

Chambers hadn’t even switched the engine on when Arthur began to pull out. Colin fixed his mouth into a rigid smile, aware that Liza was still watching him. ‘Shall we?’

Chambers started the car up. ‘Do me a favour, shithead. Don’t say another fucking word.’

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