Page 39 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘She’s probably a perfectly harmless old lady,’ said Colin the Wanker as they approached Mrs Sweeting’s house. Annoyingly, he seemed to think they were on proper speaking terms now that they’d cleared out the rotting rat corpse and the putrid milk. Doogie knew it had been a mistake to accept his lager.

‘Yeah? In that case, you can do the talking.’ He rang the bell and pushed Colin the Wanker to the front.

The door was opened by a tidy looking elderly woman, her grey-white hair somehow at odds with her dark, almost wrinkle-free skin. Colin the Wanker did a creepy smile. ‘Mrs Sweeting?’

She gave him a quick once over. ‘I’m not buying anything.’ Then she slammed the door.

So much for a distraction. The wanker sighed and stepped out of the way.

Doogie tried the bell again. The door half-opened. The old lady stood, one hand on the door, the other on her hip. ‘What you want?’

‘Are you the widow of Samuel Sweeting?’ He hadn’t meant to blurt it out but this old girl was fucking scary.

‘Who wants to know?’

‘We’ve been helping to clear out Mr Sweeting’s allotment shed. We found a letter addressed to Mrs Priscilla Sweeting.’

‘What kinda letter?’

‘It was marked to be opened in the event of his death,’ said Colin the Wanker.

‘We didn’t open it,’ said Doogie.

‘You’d better come in.’ She let Doogie into the hall. ‘Not you.’ She slammed the door shut in Colin the Wanker’s face and held out her hand.

‘Are you Mrs Priscilla Sweeting?’

She made a soft hissing sound. ‘Of course I am. Fool.’

Doogie held out the plastic wallet. ‘Sorry it’s taken so long to get to you. They’ve only just started clearing it out.’

‘What’s that dirty thing you giving me? You couldn’t clean it first?’

‘Sorry. I’ll take it out, yeah?’

‘You asking me or telling me?’

‘I’ll take it out.’ He removed it from the plastic wallet and held it out for her.

She looked at it, her arms folded. ‘Clyde Wilson send you?’

‘Yes.’

She took the letter, turned it over and read the back. ‘You can go now.’

Doogie nodded. ‘If there’s anything?—’

‘There’s nothing. Be gone.’

Colin the Wanker was waiting on the pavement for him. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Doogie set off for the allotment with Priscilla Sweeting still on his mind. There was something about that old woman that unnerved him.

24

A WOMAN WITH OPTIONS

Netta was managing a stall at a private market today. They didn’t usually do these little markets anymore. Now that they had enough regular orders, they didn’t need to. But this was a special favour to their longest and most loyal customer who was trying out a new venture, a Saturday morning market at the back of his café and deli in Moseley. It was a showcase of the producers that supplied his small empire of delis around the Midlands. They weren’t expecting much from it, so she and Neil had agreed to split the day between them. She was doing the first shift. Neil was pencilled in to take over later. She wasn’t entirely on her own though. Will had offered to keep her company, although he’d spent most of the time on his phone. ‘It’s quieter than I thought it would be,’ he said, while still scrolling.

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