Page 63 of Loving Netta Wilde

‘What kind of things?’

‘The kind of things your husband did.’

A set of wrinkle lines appeared on her brow. ‘What are you trying to say, Colin?’

‘I may have done the same things to Netta, my wife. Ex-wife. Arthur must have told you.’

She shook her head.

‘He seems to think I broke her.’ He laughed. He didn’t mean to, but it was the nerves making him do stupid, crass things.

‘You broke her.’ It didn’t sound like it was a question, more a confirmation of what he’d said, and yet her expression was undeniably questioning.

His heart was thumping. He’d gone too far, said too much. But to say no more would only make it worse. He had to explain. ‘It was never my intention to do that. I was just so angry and hurt. The thing she did to me. Her and Chambers. Doogie. You know, Doogie? The thing they did. It tore me apart.’

‘What thing? What did they do?’

‘They had an affair. She was having his child, but she lost it.’

‘She lost the child?’ Her hand reached for her mouth. ‘Oh the poor woman.’

She wasn’t getting it. She was focussing on the wrong thing. ‘You don’t understand. I’m trying to say, it was me that was broken first. They broke me. Everything I did after then was their fault. I can see it was wrong, but I had a good reason. I had extenuating circumstances.’

‘No. I don’t think so. There is never a good reason. I didn’t finish answering your earlier question. I don’t know whether my husband meant it or not, but I don’t think it matters. What matters is what he did. The same applies to you.’ She stood up.

‘Please don’t go.’ Colin reached for her arm, but she was already too far away.

She shook her head. ‘I can’t stay.’

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he called after her, but she passed through the gap in the hedge without looking back.

Devastated. Colin was devastated by her lack of compassion. He went back to his spade and shoved it in the ground, pulled it back out, tipped off the soil, and repeated the process. He told himself to keep going. It was important to do that and not let things get to you. But every movement was an effort, and he wanted to be sick again. And the walls. The walls were closing in once more. He dropped the spade and walked out with his head down, past Ursula’s allotment, past Arthur’s, past the retired couple who’d let him in the other day. The gate at the entrance was closed. He climbed over it rather than have to speak to someone. He’d messed up big time. He should never have said anything. Now he’d lost the only person he could talk to. The only person other than Netta.

36

THE NUB OF IT

This morning, Netta had received a message from her dad telling her Colin had left the allotment in a hurry. It was something to do with that woman, Ursula. He’d promised to let her know when or if Colin returned. She hadn’t heard from him since. But she couldn’t think about that now. She had more pressing issues on her mind. She’d just had a message from Kelly who was currently in Australia, asking her if she needed to come home to help with the Colin problem. That could only mean Liza had been pouring her heart out on one of their long chats which, in turn, could only mean Liza was struggling. Netta replied to say there was no need, but she appreciated the offer and made a mental note to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Liza when she got home.

Before that, she had something else to deal with. Frank had phoned an hour ago to ask if they could meet when she finished work. She’d said yes. Not necessarily because she wanted to see him. She wasn’t angry with him anymore, but she was troubled, and she didn’t have any space left in her head for yet more trouble. But whatever was going on with him needed to be sorted before they reached the point of no return.

She pulled into the car park of the pub they’d chosen. It wasn’t one that either of them frequented usually which made it good and neutral. She couldn’t have done this at his usual haunt, the Hope and Anchor.

Frank was in the beer garden. He stood up as she approached the bench. ‘Is here all right for you? We can go inside if you’d rather?’

‘Here’s fine.’ She was thinking it was quieter and more private. Easier to talk, and easier to storm off to her car if the need took her.

‘What’ll you have?’ He was still standing. Actually no, he was hopping, from one foot to the other like a nervous rabbit. Not that she’d ever seen a nervous rabbit doing that particular thing, but that’s what she imagined one would do if it were nervous.

‘I’ll have a spritzer please. Plenty of soda and just a small wine in it. I’m driving.’ And also, she wanted to keep a clear head.

It took him a while to come back. ‘It’s busy in there,’ he explained, even though she hadn’t asked for an explanation.

‘Good job we decided to stay out here then.’

‘I guess so.’

He had flecks of light blue paint on his fingernails. It reminded her of the first time they met when she came to view the house. They’d been splatted with oil paint then. Frank had been kind and courteous. She’d thought him a nice man and quite attractive in a scruffy and ramshackle way. Nothing like the other men in her history as far as looks were concerned. Perhaps that was why she fell for him, although she hadn’t been looking to fall for anyone. Maybe that was the secret to the best love affairs. They sneaked up and took hold of you before you had a chance to back away. With Doogie, a flame burst into life from the first moment she set eyes on him, and it was still burning. She knew that now. With Frank, it was different. Moreof a gentle, laid-back heat. Like having a radiator humming along in the background but being able to turn it up a notch or two when you wanted it. She wondered if that nice, kind man was gone forever and whether that would spell the end of them.

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