17. Oh, country boy
17
OH, COUNTRY BOY
From where she was sitting, Netta could see Frank in the window, although she didn’t think he’d noticed she was watching him. A figure stood behind him, half cloaked by the shadow that had fallen in the kitchen as the sun had shifted to the side of the house. It was Colin. She knew his outline, even though it didn’t stand so tall these days. She couldn’t see him properly in the shade, but she could tell he was watching them. And so was Frank.
She was doing her utmost not to let Frank’s behaviour get under her skin, but it irked her that he was being so childish about Doogie’s visit. It irked her very much. In fact, her feelings were running very high in the being irked department at the moment. Her life had been overtaken by people who were irritating the hell out of her. Naturally, Colin was a given. She expected nothing less from him, but at least he’d been confined to next door, so she wasn’t bumping into him every minute of the day.
Second on the list after Colin was Frank. All this skulking around, pretending not to have met Doogie. Not to mention the sulking. And what about that crap about having a big lunch yesterday? So rude.
And talking of Doogie, he wasn’t entirely innocent of all charges either. Turning up on her doorstep without so much as a warning message, and for what? To hang around all day smoking weed seemed to be his only objective. The man was fifty-six for fuck’s sake. It was about time he grew up.
And then there were the minor characters in the niggle area. Her parents, gushing all over Doogie like he was the prodigal son returned. Liza, who seemed to have conveniently forgotten she was the only reason Colin was still here. As far as Netta was aware, her daughter hadn’t even been over to see him since they’d moved him over to Frank’s. Betty was doing her head in with her mood swings. One minute she was snapping Spike’s head off, the next she was canoodling up to him. And only this morning, Will had accused her of chucking his favourite old sweatshirt away. And now Frank was spying on them! What was wrong with these people?
She saw Colin move up to the side of Frank. Something didn’t look right about him but at this distance, it was hard to put her finger on what it was. He and Frank were talking. It was only a short exchange, but it had set Frank off out the door. He was coming their way.
Still feeling rather peeved that he’d been ignoring her calls and messages, Netta said nothing. Never one to miss an opportunity, her mum spoke first: ‘Hello, Frank. We were wondering where you’d got to.’
‘Sorry, I had a few too many at lunchtime. I was sparked out. Stupid of me.’ If Netta wasn’t mistaken, a look was exchanged between him and Doogie. ‘Net, could I have a quick word?’
Oh, so now he wanted to talk? ‘What is it?’
‘Could we just…?’ He gestured to the kitchen.
Netta let out a loud and crisp sigh to convey her irritation with him and tramped off in the direction of the kitchen, aware that she too was in danger of being a touch childish herself.
‘Sorry I missed your calls. I really was asleep,’ he said, as soon as they were inside.
‘Okay. Is that it?’
‘It’s Colin. He’s got a black eye.’
‘A black eye?’
‘Uh huh. He won’t say how he got it.’
‘He won’t…’ Netta screwed her eyes up tight. For God’s sake. ‘Right. Come on. Let’s go and take a look at him.’
She strode purposefully through the garden with Frank trailing behind her, ignoring enquiries from the family, and stopped so suddenly in Frank’s kitchen that he bumped into her and almost knocked her over. ‘Where is he?’
Frank shrugged. ‘I guess he’s gone back up to his room.’
‘Stay here.’ More purposeful striding took her to Robyn’s old room which had temporarily become Colin’s. Although, it had to be said, not as temporarily as she’d have liked. She banged on the door. ‘Colin, are you in there?’
In reply, she heard the sound of something scraping against the door. She tried to open it but it was stuck. He’d pushed something against it. ‘Colin, if you don’t open this door I’m going to call your parents.’ Well that was a threat she hadn’t expected to come out with in a million years. Neither, it seemed, had Colin. There was more scraping and then the door handle turned.
Netta let the door swing open. Colin was facing her. No wonder he hadn’t looked right when she’d seen him through the window. He had the most enormous shiner. Even though Frank had warned her, it was much worse than she’d imagined. The eye was swollen, and one side of his face was full of cuts and grazes. She took a moment to get over the shock of it. ‘Have you been to the hospital?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘It is not nothing. I’m taking you to A&E.’
‘There’s no need. It’s just a few bruises.’
‘Colin, we are going now. For once in your life, just do as I say.’
Netta ate a bag of broken crisps that had come from the vending machine in the hospital waiting room. She was starving and tried not to think of the barbecue chicken she could have eaten ages ago if she hadn’t insisted on bringing her ex-husband here. Three hours they’d been here. The chicken would be long gone by now.
Colin came out of a set of double doors, a piece of paper in his hand. He looked such a pathetic, mournful creature, her heart began to tug. Christ, what was happening to her? Everything was topsy turvy and all of her reactions were about-face. ‘All done?’
He nodded. ‘No lasting damage. The blow wasn’t hard enough to break anything.’ He held up the paper and she saw it was a prescription. ‘Painkillers. Heavy duty.’
‘Do you need them tonight?’
‘No. They gave me something already.’
‘Okay, let’s go home,’ she said, even though she knew it wasn’t Colin’s home and never would be.
When they got into the car, Colin’s stomach rumbled loudly. ‘Sorry.’ He was so coy it made her think of the first time they met. Manchester, 1987. It was a crappy party, full of accountancy students. She’d only been there because she was hiding from Doogie and because Claire had heard there’d be lots of free booze. Colin had been manning the record player and she’d asked him if they’d got any Clash. He looked as if he didn’t know what had hit him. It was quite sweet. He wasn’t so well-practised in the art of manipulation then. He was probably putting it on now.
‘When did you last eat?’
He scratched his head. ‘Er, this morning, I think.’ Yes, he was definitely putting it on.
‘Let’s stop for fish and chips.’ Then, in case he thought she was mellowing, she added: ‘I’m hungry too.’
It was a nice balmy evening and still light. Netta wasn’t ready to go home yet, so she suggested they ate in the park. She was in no mood to face the questions that would inevitably meet them on their return. Mainly because she only had questions herself and it was easier to ask them here. ‘How did it happen?’
Colin picked at his fish. ‘I’d rather not say.’
‘I need to know, Colin.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Liza’s concerned about you.’
‘Ah. Liza’s concerned about me. No one else then?’
‘Isn’t that enough?’ Who else was he hoping for? Surely not her. Will, maybe.
He turned to her, the trace of a smile on his lips. One side of his face was so swollen, it was painful to look at him. He’d been good looking back in 1987. Not in the same way as Doogie had been, but attractive all the same. She’d stopped seeing him as anything other than vile long ago, but in truth, he’d aged well. Until now. ‘You have curry sauce on your chin.’ He pointed to a spot on his own chin. ‘Just here.’
She found a tissue and wiped it away. ‘Gone?’
‘Yep. I was just thinking about those weekends when we were still at Manchester. Do you remember when we’d come back to Birmingham? You’d take me to a club. Snobs usually. Afterwards, we’d go to that chip shop in Hurst Street, by the Powerhouse.’
‘What made you think of that?’
‘Must be the fish and chips.’ He kicked a fallen chip towards a crow waiting eagerly for cast offs. ‘It was like another world to me.’
‘It was just a club.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’
‘What?’
‘Belittle me. You were always belittling me. I had a different upbringing to you, Net. I couldn’t help seeing the excitement in your world.’
That was rubbish. She never belittled anyone. She’d have told him so too, if he hadn’t been such a wreck. ‘They’ve moved Snobs now. Did you know?’
‘I heard. Closer to the chip shop.’
‘The chip shop went years ago.’
Colin wrinkled his nose, and the less damaged side of his face attempted a resigned smile. ‘I so hate the present day.’
Netta laughed. ‘Eat your chips before they get cold, country boy.’
He threw another chip to the crow. ‘You haven’t called me that in a long time.’
She didn’t answer. She was thinking about when she used to call him that all the time. She always thought he liked it but perhaps she was wrong.
‘I miss those times. I miss Will.’
Both of those statements came as a surprise and she had nothing to say in response, except: ‘Oh, Colin. What are we going to do with you?’