Page 75 of Loving Netta Wilde

She laughed. It was angry and mean and not in the least bit like his lovely, sweet daughter. ‘That’s all you care about, isn’t it? What Will thinks of you. You never ask me what I think of you.’

‘I don’t need to, I’ve seen your painting of me.’

She stared at him, her disgust so very, very obvious. ‘I hated you that night you made us your accomplices. I hated you both for different reasons, but I stuck with you because I had to stick with someone. Mum and me are cool now. But you, Dad. You. I have tried so hard with you but you’re just so fucking selfish. So I’m giving up on you. Frank’s been a better dad to me than you’ve ever been. I’ve only known Doogie a few weeks and he’s already beaten you into third place. And just so’s you know. Yes, that portrait is exactly how I see you. Nasty, cruel, mean, deceitful, evil and absolutely fucking pathetic.’

42

THIS WASN’T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK

Colin was in the bathroom, retching. His stomach was empty, and the toilet bowl was full of something that resembled gone-off blackcurrant cordial but was in fact, pure Malbec. How many bottles had he drunk in the last two days? He had no idea. Almost everything was still blotted out. He wanted to blot out the last half hour as well, but that was never going to happen. Liza had left but her fury, her frustration and her words would always be etched in his memory. He didn’t think he would ever forget the day his daughter told him exactly what she thought of him. She’d given up on him. The one bond he thought was unbreakable had turned out to be already broken. And it was all his fault. That was what she’d said, wasn’t it? Everything. Crushing Netta. Making Will despise him. Using them. Ruining all their lives. All of it was his fault. Liza hated him and she had every right to. How could he possibly go on now?

He splashed water on his face and caught the sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. His forehead and cheeks were marked with dark scratches, forming lines of dried blood. His wine-stained lips, teeth and tongue looked like something out of a horror film. His clothes were disgusting, and his hair was lankand greasy. He’d considered himself something once. Turned out that something was nothing more than a pile of vile, unpleasant shit who’d ruined the lives of everyone he’d ever loved.

He went into the bedroom and put his phone on charge, then took out his son’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t true that he only cared about what Will thought. Liza was wrong. But she was right about the other thing though. Will did despise him. Colin had been hiding from it but now that Liza had said it, he couldn’t deny it any longer. His son despised him and his daughter hated him. When you came down to it, they were just two words that meant the same thing.

It took a while for his phone to spring back into life but eventually a steady round of ping, ping, pings let him know that he’d missed numerous messages regarding his whereabouts. Not that they actually cared. Not really. They just didn’t want his expiration on their consciences. He buried his head in the sweatshirt and began to cry.

A single isolated ping made him look up. This had to be a more recent message. Perhaps it was Liza saying sorry. He was almost too scared to pick it up and find out, but he reminded himself it was important to stay hopeful and opened it tentatively.

Naturally, it wasn’t from Liza. It was from Arianne, taunting him for sleeping in Adam and Jude’s garden. That was it, he’d just about had enough. Colin let out a raw, agonising squeal. He was going to show them he had feelings too. And he was going to start with Will.

He grabbed the sweatshirt and went down and out the back, through the gate into Netta’s. There were sounds of movement coming from inside the house, but he couldn’t see anyone. The door was locked. He banged on it and set the dogs off barking. ‘I know you’re in there. Come out and talk to me. That’s all I ask.’

The door remained closed. The dogs continued to bark.

‘I’m your father. I demand to speak to you.’ Still no one came.

He picked up a stone and threw it at the window. The glass cracked. ‘Do you see what you’ve driven me to? No? Well, look at this. Look what I’m doing now. Despise this.’ He tore at Will’s sweatshirt and ripped it down the front, then ripped it again so that it became two uneven halves. ‘I am someone. I deserve to be spoken to. I deserve to be seen.’ Colin sank to his knees. ‘I deserve to be pitied.’

The door opened as he curled into a tight ball while unstoppable tears erupted from him. All at once, he was surrounded by a pack of whining dogs. A pair of feet stopped in front of him. Colin looked up and let out a loud sob. If it had been anyone else but Chambers…

Chambers crouched down to his level. ‘The kids aren’t here, mate.’

Colin wiped his nose. ‘I was hoping to catch Will.’ It was a ridiculous thing to say, bearing in mind that he had snot running down his blood and wine-stained face and was still holding two halves of the sweatshirt, but that was the least of his worries right now.

‘He went on holiday yesterday. Come on. Let’s get you in.’ Chambers took his arm and helped him up.

Netta’s lounge was as cosy and inviting as ever. He could have lived in a house like this if he hadn’t insisting on controlling everything in their home. If he’d forgiven her, they might have found happiness again. His children would still love him and everything would be just fine.

Chambers put a mug of tea down on the coffee table. ‘Hot and sweet. My mum always says it’s good for shock and she used to be a nurse. You know we’ve all been out looking for you?’

Colin wiped his eyes. The tears were slowing now. ‘Liza said.’

‘I saw you on Wednesday night, outside your house.’

‘Well that accounts for one night then. I have vague recollections of sitting on a park bench last night with Mr Malbec for company, but the only thing I know for sure is that I woke up this morning in my next-door neighbour’s back garden.’

‘I’ve had a few nights like that myself. Not so much recently though.’

‘Perhaps you went through your existential crisis earlier in life.’

Chambers was trying to hold in a smile. He was human after all. ‘Yeah, I did. I burned everything I had that belonged to the woman I loved on Crosby Beach and sat over it all night like it was a funeral pyre, smoking weed.’

‘Sounds a lot cooler than my meltdown.’

‘It wasn’t cool. I regretted it two days later. Drink your tea.’

‘Was it Netta? The woman.’

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