Page 40 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘It’s new, and it’s still early. People will probably start drifting in soon. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to though.’

‘No, I want to stay. Just saying, that’s all.’

‘At least it gives us a chance for a chat. We haven’t had much time for that since you got back. I’ve been meaning to ask how you feel about Doogie being here.’

Will put his phone away. ‘Dunno, I haven’t really thought about it. Fine, I guess. I like him. Does that count?’

‘Yes it does.’

‘I like Frank too, by the way. He’s great.’

‘Okay. That’s good to know.’

‘Yeah, I mean, he really is great. I wouldn’t mind if you two decided to move in together or get married or anything. Just so you know. I mean, that’s entirely your decision. Obviously. And if you decided you preferred Doogie, that’s absolutely fine too.’

‘Well, it’s nice to know I have your blessing should I decide to opt for either of them as my live in lover or husband, but I feel duty bound to tell you that I’m quite happy with my current situation.’ Not exactly true, she had been happy with her current situation until her current situation changed and unleashed all sorts of mayhem. ‘Do you want to serve this lady?’

‘Sure,’ said Will, looking ever so slightly sheepish.

Thankfully, a flurry of newly arrived customers put paid to any further discussion of options with regard to Netta’s love life. She didn’t normally subscribe to conspiracy theories, but she was beginning to think that the younger generation of her family and Frank’s, were definitely conspiring to get them hitched. But if there had been any possibility of that before all this madness, and she wasn’t sure there had been, then there wasn’t now. Although it would appear that Doogie wasn’t entirely off the cards as an alternative. From Will’s point of view anyway.

The flurry soon died down and by the looks of Will, he was building himself up to another revolutionary suggestion on the marriage front. In classic Will style he looked at his feet, then up and out into the distance.Here we go.She readied herself. But her preparations were unnecessary. His expression changed to a frown. ‘Arianne’s over there.’

Netta looked across the room and there was Arianne in an unusually pink and frothy ensemble. This was a new look for her.Usually, she wore spray on jeans and a tight T-shirt. Quite often, it was a Clash T-shirt, just like one Netta had worn back in her student days which, to Netta’s mind, was always a bit suspicious. Not today though. Today she looked like an ageing ballerina who’d let herself go rather badly. Arianne hadn’t noticed them. She was too pre-occupied making doe-eyes at the man whose hand she was holding. He was a big man. Big and round with a big, round, bald head and a shaggy beard. But, give the woman her due, he was at least fifteen years younger than her.

They were almost on top of the stall before she noticed Netta and Will, and unfortunately for Arianne, her new man was showing an interest in Neil’s speciality Caribbean pickle. She grabbed his T-shirt and tried to pull him away. ‘Leave it, Byron.’

But it seemed Byron had a mind of his own. Far from leaving it, he picked up a jar to read the ingredients.

‘It’s an old recipe from my partner’s husband’s family.’ Netta put a spoonful on some crackers. ‘Would you like to try it?’

‘I would,’ said Byron with an enthusiastic nod. Clearly his taste in pickle was better than his taste in women.

She held out the plate of crackers for him. ‘And how are things with you, Arianne? Still living illegally in my ex-husband’s house?’

Byron almost spat out his cracker. ‘Oh. You’re?—’

‘Yes, that’s me. The woman who’s having to put her ex-husband up because your lady friend seems to think it’s okay to steal his property.’

Other than swallowing the remains of his cracker loudly, Byron seemed lost for words. Sadly, Arianne wasn’t: ‘I’ve put a lot of love into that house. That’s worth a lot.’

Will stood up to his full height. ‘Not in the eyes of the law.’

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Byron had found his voice.

‘I’m Will Grey. Colin’s son. I’m also a lawyer.’

Arianne grabbed Byron’s arm. ‘What about the abuse I’ve had to put up with? You can’t put a price on that either, I suppose.’

‘What kind of abuse are you alleging has been meted out to you?’ said Will.

‘Domestic.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘Not at this moment. Tell Colin, he’ll be hearing from my solicitor.’

Netta let out a heavy sigh. ‘So you keep saying.’

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