Page 5 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘No. She keeps the doors bolted when she’s in. She’s very security conscious. I just wish she’d talk to me so we could sort things out.’ He looked out into the night. ‘I’ve got some commissions I’m working on. I need to get back to them.’ It was strange that work was his main concern and not getting back with Arianne.

‘Frank has a studio set up in his breakfast room. If you ask him nicely, he might let you have some space in it. Assuming you don’t get back in, that is. Is it over then, you and Arianne?’

‘I don’t know. I’m still hopeful but things haven’t been great for a while. She can be quite difficult to live with.’

‘So can you,’ said Netta, remembering that he’d often said the same thing about her.

‘So I’ve heard. I’ll think about asking Frank. Just in case.’ He gave her another shy smile. ‘Do you know, I think this might be the most civilised conversation we’ve had in years.’

‘I was just thinking the same thing myself.’ Netta wrapped her hands around her cup and loosened the tension she was carrying in her shoulders. But before she had a chance to get too relaxed, a twenty-year-old memory flashed up. A hospital bed. A lost baby. Colin standing over her: ‘Whose was it?’ And thenthat word popped back into her head. That short, nasty, unkind word. Abuse.

4

GERALDINE IS SORT OF SPEECHLESS

Despite the lack of sleep, Netta was up early. It was Saturday, a market day, and she didn’t have much choice. Everyone else in the house did have a choice, so it was a surprise to find Liza sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal. ‘Morning. I’ve made some tea.’

Netta poured a cup from the pot. She’d been a tea bag in a mug kind of person before Liza had become something of an eco-warrior. Now it was a teapot and leaves or risk a lecture. Not that she minded really. It was all for the right reasons and she was proud of her daughter for making a stand. She’d even been on a few marches with Liza and her friends, along with her mum. One family, three generations marching for the future. How about that?

Her mum was coming to give them a hand on the market stall this morning. Just for a few hours when it was busiest. There used to be three of them running their little jam and pickles business, Netta, Kelly, and Neil, but since Kelly had gone travelling it was just the two of them. They’d found someone to replace her on the production side because most of their produce was sold through retailers these days. But the Saturday artisanalmarkets were a good sideline, so Neil and Netta had kept them going on their own with occasional help from family and friends.

‘Are you seeing Nan this morning?’ asked Liza.

‘Yes. Have you said anything to her?’

‘About Dad? No, not yet. I can call her if you want me to.’

‘It’s okay. I’ll speak to her today.’

Liza bit down on her bottom lip. ‘Do you think she’ll take it really badly?’

Netta looked across the table at her. Should she tell Liza how her nan was likely to take it? Best not. ‘I’m sure she’ll understand.’

‘She hates him doesn’t she? I know she tries to make out she doesn’t, but she’s not exactly the best liar in the world.’

‘I think it’s true to say she’s not keen.’

Liza laughed. ‘Mum, you’re an even worse liar than Nan. That thing Arianne said about domestic abuse, do you believe her?’

‘I honestly don’t know. What about you?’

‘Same here. I don’t want to take his side just because he’s my dad and also, because I know how he can be, but I can’t say I’ve noticed it when I’ve been with them. She’s usually the one going apeshit over the slightest thing. Last time I was there, she went mad because I’d put a cup on the wrong dishwasher shelf. Completely blew up. That’s why I hardly ever stay now.’

‘It’s not always obvious though.’

Liza reached for Netta’s hand. ‘I know.’

With no grandchildren in the vicinity to curtail her reaction, Geraldine Wilde wasn’t holding back. ‘If this is some kind of joke, it’s a very poor one.’

‘It’s not a joke.’ Netta had taken her aside as soon as she’d arrived and told her the news.

‘Well then, I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless. Absolutely speechless. That you would think it was okay to let that man stay under your roof, after all he’s done to you. Have you lost your mind? Because that’s the only reason I can think of why you’d do such a thing.’

Netta took a breath and wished that her mum was actually speechless. ‘I did it for Liza. She was worried about him. I didn’t want to, but I was backed into a corner.’

‘Silly girl, she’s too soft.’

‘She knows what he’s like, but he’s her dad.’

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