61. Not empty. Resting
61
NOT EMPTY. RESTING
The morning sun was warming the back of Colin’s head and casting glorious light on the neat rows of potatoes, carrots, and chard that were surrounding him. A little further away there were ripe tomatoes that needed picking. He’d do that shortly but for the moment, he was sitting on Ursula’s bench counting his blessings. One week ago today, two seismic events had taken place. The first was the successful recapture of his house, along with his car. The second was Ursula leaving for Snowdonia. Colin was now a man with a house, a car and an allotment. The allotment was only temporary until Ursula returned or gave it up. Actually the house was temporary too but that would be up to him to decide when to let it go.
From where he was sitting, he could see Clyde talking to the retired couple whose names he still didn’t know. He’d actually smiled at Colin this morning. Perhaps his new-found humility was finally wearing the old bugger down. His big dog, Colonel, was lying across the path, taking in the sun. Colin missed dogs. He’d never really liked them much, but they’d grown on him while he’d been living at Netta’s and Frank’s. Especially little Maud. Liza told him there was a possibility Betty was having pups. Spike, apparently. What was that saying about dogs being like their owners? He’d sent a message along those lines to Doogie when he found out. He’d received a reply telling him to fuck off. Typical Chambers. But there was a smiley face next to the words, so Colin knew he hadn’t taken offence really.
How strange it was, the way things had worked out. Colin finally had real friends and one of them was Doogie Chambers. He supposed he should thank Arianne really, rather than have her locked up. He hadn’t wanted to involve the police. The whole idea of it all coming out had filled him with dread. Not least because he knew exactly what his father would say. There’d be talk of him not being man enough etcetera, etcetera. The usual stuff. Mother would have been no better. She’d probably have had one of her faints and told him she’d never be able to face the WI again. All in all it would have been better if things had gone to plan, and Colin could have pretended they’d just gone their own separate ways. But Arianne had crossed a line. She could punch and kick him as much as she wanted to, but when she’d turned on Netta, he realised hiding from it wasn’t an option. The woman was dangerous. She needed help. And if that meant having the world know what happened, so be it. He had family and friends to help him through it. Although probably not his own parents. Oh well. C’est la vie .
Talking of extraordinary workings out, Geraldine had become his new bestie. That said, she’d made it clear she still hadn’t forgiven him for the way he’d treated Netta and never would. It was fair enough. He didn’t think he could forgive himself for it either. He’d be seeing Geraldine later. They’d probably talk about the things he’d written in the notepad since their last talk. He’d been taking it everywhere in case something occurred to him. She was going on holiday in two weeks. Arthur was whisking her off to the Amalfi Coast. Colin had lined up a visit to Ursula while the glamorous granny was away. He was looking forward to experiencing life in a commune that was in no way a hippy commune. Although he’d already warned Ursula if he saw one dreamcatcher he’d be out of there before you could say yellow lentils.
He saw Arthur coming through the gate and lifted his hand to wave but stopped in mid-air when he saw who was with him. It was Will. Colin sat motionless but his heart was racing. His throat was dry and yet liquid was dripping from the roof of his mouth in the way it did just before you threw up. Arthur veered off towards his own allotment, but Will was on a different course. He was on his way to him. Colin held on to his knees. His palms were sweating. There was every chance he really was going to be sick.
Will stopped on the path in front of the bench. ‘Hey, Dad.’
‘Hey, Will. This is unexpected.’
‘Got room for me?’
Will looked taller and broader than he remembered. He seemed to go on forever, but then Colin hadn’t been this near to him for years. People said they looked alike. They did in a way, although Colin had never been that handsome. Never that self-assured either. Now that he looked closely, he could see Arthur in Will too. Those were probably the handsome parts. Colin had seen photos of Arthur as a young man and there was no denying he'd been a very good-looking chap. He patted the space next to him. ‘Plenty.’
Will sat down and filled the space. Colin felt small and rather diminished next to him.
‘How you doing, Dad?’
‘I’m doing okay. I’m being well taken care of.’ It was true, he was. Liza and Geraldine were making sure of that. He didn’t want that to be a permanent solution though, especially as far as Liza was concerned. ‘I’m sorry I tore up your sweatshirt.’
Will shrugged. ‘That’s okay. Belle’s been going on at me for ages to get rid of it. Apparently it stinks.’
‘I rather liked the smell of it. Listen, Will, there’s something I need to say while I’ve got the chance. I am so sorry for all the things I put you and Liza and your mum through. I’m not asking for forgiveness because I don’t deserve it, but I just wanted you to know that I can see how wrong it was.’
Will nodded. It was the best Colin could hope for and it was still more than he’d expected. ‘Mum says you’re selling the house.’
‘I am. I’m going to use some of the money to pay back everything I cheated her out of.’
‘Yeah, she told me. She said you don’t need to do that.’
‘Tough, because I’m bloody well doing it. Even if I have to feed fifty-quid bundles through her letterbox.’
Will grinned. ‘Bit much but I applaud the sentiment. Will you be okay when Nan goes on holiday? I know you’re seeing a lot of her, at the moment.’
‘That’s a nice way of saying I’m heavily dependent on her. Yes, I think I will be. I’m going on a little holiday myself. To Wales.’
‘To stay with your lady friend, Ursula?’
‘Well she’s a lady and she’s a friend, but she’s not what I think you’re implying.’
‘She could be, though? When you’ve got over Arianne.’
Got over Arianne? Colin was long over her. Well before she lost her head. It would be more accurate to say got over the things she did. But then again, that wasn’t the real reason. Ursula had named it. The reason was grief. The grief over the loss of his children was healing now, especially after this. But Colin was rapidly coming to understand his grief had many layers and many complications. And it would take a long time for the grieving process to be over. It was about love too. Love and grief. You couldn’t have one without the other.
‘The thing is, Will, I’m still in love with your mum. I think she knows that but I’d rather you didn’t tell her, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to make a big thing of it. I know she doesn’t love me but we’re friends now and I don’t want to spoil that.’
‘I won’t say anything. But I don’t get it though. I don’t get how you could have treated her so badly if you truly loved her.’
‘Because I’m a bad person.’ He could have lied or shifted the blame like he’d always done in the past, but that was not who Colin was now.
‘You’re different now though, yeah? You’ve changed.’
‘I’m trying very hard, but I think maybe it’s a bit like being an alcoholic. You have to fight your natural instincts to be a complete shit every day.’
Will smiled. ‘Well Liza will soon tell you if you are. She’s told me once or twice. I can help too. I could come and stay with you a couple of days a week. If you want?’
‘I do want. Very, very much.’
‘Cool. You don’t mind Belle staying, do you? We’re kind of living together in a currently homeless, living with our parents sort of way until we’ve got jobs.’
‘I don’t mind at all.’ It was lucky Colin had finally got his emotions in check because if he was still blubbing at the drop of a hat, he’d be in absolute bits by now.
‘Ready?’ said Liza.
Colin did another round of the breathing exercises Geraldine had taught him, then nodded. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
She took his hand. ‘Right, we’re going in.’
In fact she pulled him in rather than allowed him to walk into his studio under his own steam, but he had done it. He’d crossed the threshold.
He took a look around and was pleased to see someone had removed Arianne’s ratty old dreamcatcher and the mindless slogans. From now on he would decide what was important in his life.
Liza tugged at his sleeve. ‘We’re going to walk to the canvas and pick up a brush now.’
‘Have you been taking lessons from your grandmother?’
‘Just shut up and do it, okay?’
He took another long, slow breath. ‘Okay.’
She let go of him when they were standing in front of the last painting he’d started months ago. The client had been waiting for it since then. Colin had several other commissions that he’d accepted before he’d become too frightened to paint. He’d promised Liza he’d try to complete them before deciding whether to give it up for good.
‘Pick up the brush and just move it around the canvas without the paint.’ Yes, Geraldine had definitely being giving her tips.
His hand shook as he chose a brush and lifted it to the canvas. He was sweating and he wanted to throw up again.
She put her hand over his. ‘I’m here with you, Dad.’ Together they moved the brush around. Circles at first, then strokes, long and short. Colin’s hand stopped shaking.
‘Do you want to try it with some paint?’ she said.
‘Not this one. I might spoil it. I’ll get a fresh canvas. You start on yours.’
She moved over to the easel she’d set up next to his. He watched her painting for a while, admiring her technique and the lines that were forming. She was such a talent.
‘Standing over me and doing nothing was not part of the deal,’ she said.
‘I know, I just love watching you. You’re so good.’
‘Go and get a canvas now!’
‘Okay, bossy boots. God, you’re so like your mother and grandmother.’
Colin took his painting off the easel and laid it against the stack of finished ones. The cloth covering the next pile had slipped a little. He put it back in place. Maybe one day he’d show the ones he had hidden in there to Liza. He’d explain to her how every time he tried to paint, all that came out was another account of his own personal hell. He’d tell her how he was so afraid of what might appear on the canvas, he didn’t dare pick up a brush. Maybe one day. When he could face them again.
He went into the old pantry to get a new canvas and smiled when he saw the one with the Netta-shaped hole in the centre. He was going to keep that one as a reminder of the moment she stood between him and Arianne to save him. Even with twigs in her hair, arms scratched to pieces and vermillion paint running down her face, she was magnificent. He might frame it just as it was.
Liza glanced over at the blank canvas that he’d placed on the easel. ‘Paint anything. It doesn’t matter what.’
‘I’m waiting for inspiration.’ He looked around him and his eyes fell on his notebook to something Ursula had said about Samuel’s patch. He’d written it down later and had returned to it time and again, underlining it each time.
‘Still looking for inspiration?’ she said.
‘No. It’s not a picture but it might be a start.’
He chose forest green, the colour of leaves and allotments and growth. Slowly and shakily he painted the words:
Not empty. Resting. Waiting to be filled up again.