32. Close encounters of the running kind
32
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE RUNNING KIND
This was absolutely not how Frank’s new life was supposed to begin. There should have been celebrations, partying and such like. Actually, not partying, seeing as he’d specifically requested no partying. But a quiet dinner, a toast to acknowledge the end of one life and the start of another. That would have been nice. And what had he got? Well, none of the aforementioned. Obviously. The best Netta could muster was allegations, followed by more allegations. Without a doubt, this new life of his was all going to shite.
He was feeling awful. Hardly surprising given that he’d not slept a wink all night. By rights he should still be in bed, trying to catch up, but that would have been a pointless exercise because after yesterday’s personal attacks, there was no way he’d be dropping off any time soon. Attacks which were completely unfounded, by the way. According to the woman who was following her ex-lover around like a love-struck teenager, not only was he behaving like a child, he was also consumed with jealousy. How dare she? How fucking dare she? And as for her complete U-turn with regard to Colin? Unbelievable! One minute she’s having a pop at him for feeling sorry for the fecker and the next, she’s giving him evils, just for saying what Geraldine and Arthur were obviously thinking. And Frank absolutely stood by what he’d said. Because maybe, just maybe, Arianne had given Colin a robust dose of karma. Not that Frank condoned violence and not that Colin was ever violent towards Netta, as far as he knew. But maybe for once, the man would see what it was like to be on the receiving end of a malevolent force. Although it had to be said, it didn’t look like Colin was showing any contrition in that regard whatsoever.
Frank put on his trainers. Malevolent forces or not, he was going for a run. Even if he did feel like a mangled turd, he was not going to let this business ruin his journey to fitness.
Fred was waiting at the front door, just in case Frank was thinking of going without him. He was a good running mate, as long as he didn’t get distracted which was a reason enough to go early before the park got too full.
Frank kept his eyes straight as they trod the few precarious steps from the house to the street. It was too early for anyone to be leaving Netta’s, but you never knew. He started with a steady jog and kept it at that pace all the way to the park. Once he’d let Fred off his lead, he picked up speed. When he’d first started this running business, he’d barely made it around the park without having to walk part of the way. Now he could do three or four laps without feeling tired. For a man who was never previously disposed to any kind of sport, that gave him a peculiar sense of pride.
The park was as empty as he’d hoped it would be. Just a lone runner on the other side of the loop and a woman with a little dog that Fred showed no interest in. The runner was going at a decent pace. It wouldn’t be long before they lapped Frank, but that didn’t bother him. He wasn’t into all that macho competitive rubbish, especially when it came to exercise. Before all this madness, he’d have said he wasn’t into it in any shape or form, but now he wasn’t so sure.
He was three-quarters round his first lap when the other runner caught him up. Fred, who until then had been running at Frank’s side, peeled off and turned his attention to the person who was just a few paces behind.
‘All right, mate.’ Doogie Chambers slowed down and gave Fred some fuss.
Bollocks. He should have paid more attention before it was too late to head right back out of the park, unspotted. Frank wasn’t sure whether to stop and acknowledge the man’s presence or carry on. He opted for carrying on, went a few paces, then changed his mind and stopped. ‘I didn’t realise it was you.’
‘Same here. Mind if I join you?’
‘I might slow you down.’
Doogie shrugged. ‘Slow’s fine. This a new thing for you, is it?’
Frank started up again. ‘Uh huh. Trying to get fit. You been running long?’
‘Most of my life. It’s an easy way to stay healthy and it’s a good time to do some thinking.’
‘I wouldn’t know. My thinking’s mostly whether I’ll get around before my lungs collapse.’
‘You’ll get past that. Then you can let your mind drift off to other things.’
Frank immediately began imagining the sort of things Doogie’s mind would drift off to and most of them involved Netta. Although technically, Doogie did have a partner. ‘How’s Grace doing?’
‘She’s okay. Busy with the farm and the tourists.’
‘Nice lady. She reminded me of Netta.’
‘Interesting.’
Frank was expecting him to say something else, but he didn’t, he just carried on running without even breaking his stride. He’d said it to make it clear that he could see right through the fella, but now he felt like a bit of a nob for saying it and he was in something of a dilemma as to what to say next.
Doogie saved him the pain of further digging himself into a hole. ‘Net was a bit pissed off with you last night.’
Ah right, so he’d taken the pain away with one hand and given Frank a different pain with the other. Talk about devious. And they said Colin was a sly fecker. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘Got yer. Only I thought, as we were talking about our women, it was okay to mention it.’
‘Well it’s not.’
‘I guess not. Just so we’re clear, it’s also not okay to suggest that I’m only with Grace because you think she bears a passing resemblance to Netta.’
Yet again, Frank was the one left feeling like a nob. He was out of his league here, but he still couldn’t let it lie. ‘Okay. But I don’t get why you’re here.’
‘Not my problem, mate.’
No, Frank didn’t suppose it was. ‘Point taken,’ he said begrudgingly.
‘Yeah? Take this point as well while you’re at it. It’s not me that messes with Netta’s head. Stop being a dick and focus on the real problem.’ Doogie slowed down. ‘Try thinking that one over. I’m heading back. See yer.’
Netta’s car was gone by the time Frank got home. She normally went to the foodbank on Tuesday, so it was a bit early for her to have left, but she sometimes popped into work beforehand. Frank was relieved. After running a few extra laps, his earlier anger had fizzled out. Now he was only mildly indignant. Although the source of his indignation was hard to pin down. Sometimes it was Netta, sometimes it was Doogie, and sometimes it was Colin. One way or another, they all had their part to play. Much as he’d wanted to ignore Doogie’s advice, he had done some thinking and had come to the conclusion that he didn’t agree with him. Whether Doogie believed it or not, he was messing with Netta’s head. So was Colin. That went without saying. But so was Frank, and before he could face her, he had to face himself and work out why.
He opened the front door and let Fred off his lead. Colin was moving about upstairs. He’d come back late, long after Frank had gone to bed. He had no idea where Colin had been, but it probably wasn’t somewhere good.
Liza appeared on the drive, just as he was about to close the door. ‘Hey. I’ve been looking out for you. I wanted to check it was okay to come round and finish off that painting later.’
‘Of course it is. You don’t need to ask.’
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t know, what with you and Mum falling out and everything.’
‘Oh, she told you that, did she?’
Liza snorted. ‘Of course not. We kind of guessed though. Is it Doogie?’
‘No.’
‘Dad then? Something’s making you weird.’
‘You think I’m being weird?’
‘Er, yes!’
‘I don’t think I’m being weird.’ He was about to say it’s everyone else but one look at her face changed his mind.
‘Frank, in what way do you think your behaviour is normal? Wait. Oh my God, you don’t even know you’re doing it, do you? You have so got to look at yourself in the mirror right now. And I thought my dad was in denial. I’ll be over around eleven. Maybe use the time to think about it, yeah?’
Frank’s lips clamped together. He was aware that his brow probably looked like a newly ploughed field. So far this morning, he’d been called a dick and a weirdo in denial. And apparently, he needed to think about what he’d done. Quite a day of it, considering it wasn’t even eight-thirty.