18. Outrage in equal amounts
18
OUTRAGE IN EQUAL AMOUNTS
It was almost ten-thirty by the time they arrived home. When she got out of the car, Netta was faced with the unusual sight of two men waiting in windows for her. Two lovers, one past and one present at two separate windows, in two separate houses. She was too tired to speak to either of them but speak to them she must, because there was still one burning question that needed to be answered. And since Colin wasn’t giving her any kind of answer at all, she needed to ask them.
Frank opened his front door. Of course he would, why wouldn’t he? For all his stupidity about Doogie, he’d been golden about Colin. As far as she knew, anyway. Doogie on the other hand remained in the window, predictably aloof. Wasn’t that always the way? Well, he could wait. Frank had made the choice for her.
He stepped back to let them into the hall. ‘How did it go?’
‘Nothing broken,’ said Colin.
Frank shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Can I get you both something to eat?’
‘We got fish and chips.’ It was a harmless enough thing to say but she felt ridiculously disloyal for saying it.
Frank cast his eyes downward. ‘Oh.’
And there, in that one small word was the reason why she felt bad. ‘We were both starving,’ she said, in an effort to redeem herself.
‘Righto. A drink then? I have beer, wine, whisky.’
‘Better not. I’ve had some strong painkillers,’ said Colin.
‘Right,’ said Frank. ‘Tea then?’
Netta was already on her way to the kitchen. ‘Tea would be perfect.’
Colin nodded, a little too eagerly for it to come across as natural. ‘Yeah, I could murder a cuppa.’
Frank clapped his hands together. ‘Tea it is then.’
They filled the wait for the kettle to boil with nothing talk – the long wait in the hospital, Frank’s big day tomorrow. It was all meaningless chatter aimed at masking their embarrassment. And it was clear, they were all embarrassed, even if they were each embarrassed about different things.
Colin picked up his mug of freshly made tea. ‘I think I’ll take mine up to bed. I’m shattered.’
Frank looked relieved. ‘Will I tell Arthur you won’t be going to the allotment tomorrow?’
‘Thanks. I could do with another rest day.’
‘Shall we take this in there?’ Frank gestured towards his studio.
They went in and Netta closed the door behind them.
‘He won’t come in here. He never does,’ said Frank.
She joined him at the little table by the French windows. ‘Really? I’d have thought he’d like being here amongst all the art.’
‘You’d have thought so, wouldn’t you? Has he said anything about what happened?’
‘He refuses to say. I wondered if you knew anything about it.’
‘Not really, no. The first I knew of it was just before I came outside to you. He was fine the last time I saw him. That was yesterday evening.’
‘So it wasn’t you then?’
‘Of course it wasn’t me.’
‘Only I know how he gets under people’s skin. I just wondered?—’
‘Well wonder no more. I didn’t touch the fella. If it was anyone around here, it was probably yer man Doogie.’
‘Why? Why would it be Doogie?’
Frank shuffled in his seat. ‘He just seems the sort.’
Netta’s hackles rose sharply. ‘And what sort is that, Frank? The black sort?’
‘Jesus, no. That’s not what I meant at all. How could you think such a thing? You know I’m not like that.’
‘What did you mean then?’
‘He can be sinister, the way he looks at you. Like he’s trying to work out the best way to rip your head off.’
‘Sinister. I see. And is that the way he looked at you when you met him on the beach by Grace’s farm?’
Frank’s mouth clamped shut. He went to pick up his mug then, seeming to change his mind, clutched the top of his legs and looked at his lap.
She stood up. The chair clattered to the floor. ‘I think we’d better leave it at that, don’t you?’
He looked out into the garden. Clearly, he had nothing to say. He’d already said too much.
Her own house was empty, with the exception of Doogie and the dogs. ‘Where is everybody?’
Doogie leaned against the door frame. ‘Your mum and dad went home, and the kids went to the pub.’
‘The pub? Their dad has a face like a busted football, and they’ve gone to the pub?’
‘Yep. They waited until you messaged to say he was okay though. It’s not like they left as soon as you were out the door.’
She brushed past him and went into the lounge. Even now, the closeness of him made her hairs stand on end. ‘Did you punch Colin?’
He laughed. He actually laughed. Until he saw she wasn’t joking. ‘You’re serious. Why would you…? Hang on, has he accused me of assaulting him?’
‘No. He won’t say what happened. I’m just trying to eliminate you from my enquiries.’
‘Your enquiries? You’re fucking kidding me, right?’
‘I just have to know.’
Doogie kissed his teeth. He was fuming. Absolutely raging. She could tell by the look in his eyes and the thin smile on his lips. This was his way of containing things. She knew that, but somebody who didn’t know him, like Frank, might see it as sinister. ‘You have to know. Gotcha. All right, Miss fucking Marple, let’s just look at the evidence, shall we? One, I haven’t left your house since I got here yesterday. Two, the closest I’ve got to Colin the Wanker was half an hour ago when you pulled up outside. Three, I am not a violent man. I do yoga, for fuck’s sake. And even if I was, why would I beat the guy up when he’s obviously lost any will to live? Where’s the fun in that? And four, how could you even think that? You prick.’
‘Oh, I’m a prick?’
‘Yeah, you are. Now calm the fuck down. You’re upsetting the dogs.’
Netta dropped down onto the sofa. One by one, the dogs came in from the hallway to sit by her. She ran her hands along their backs until she was more like her usual self. ‘I’m sorry.’
Doogie sat next to her. ‘Was that for me or the dogs?’
‘Both. But just for the record. You did used to get into fights, and you always came out on top.’
‘Yeah, when we were kids. And “for the record” I only got into fights because other people started on me.’
She put her head on his shoulder. It was true. To her knowledge, he’d never started a fight. ‘If it makes you feel better, I asked Frank as well.’
He put his arm around her. ‘And how did he take it?’
‘He was equally outraged.’ She thought it best not to mention that Frank had pointed an accusing finger at him.
‘I’m not surprised. I mean, he’s a bit of a dickhead but he seems like a decent guy.’
She slapped his thigh. ‘Frank is not a dickhead. Okay, he can be a bit of a dickhead sometimes. But in a nice way. Anyway, you hardly know him.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. We bonded this afternoon over a beer and a smoke.’
So that was why Frank had been sleeping it off, he’d been on the old wacky baccy.
‘And we got on okay when he was camping on Grace’s farm.’
‘Ah. You did remember him then? Does he know, you know?’
‘Yep. And he knows you know too. I told him.’
She put her head in her hands. ‘So did I.’