19. The thing about Netta Wilde
19
THE THING ABOUT NETTA WILDE
Time was, Doogie enjoyed nothing more than lying in until late in the morning. Moving to Scotland changed that. Actually, getting involved with Grace changed that. It was hard not to feel a prick of conscience when the person you were sleeping with was getting up before dawn to milk the cows. He rolled over in bed and checked the time. Six-fifteen. She’d be collecting the hens’ eggs now and thinking about her breakfast.
When he’d moved to Scotland, he’d wanted to get away from Manchester. His mum’s family came from the west coast. Although they’d moved to Glasgow when his grandad was young, the Macraes liked to remind you of their roots. Doogie’s uncle had a holiday cottage close to where his great-grandparents and the rest of the Macrae clan had lived. His grandad had stayed there for the last six months of his life, before the cancer finally took him. Doogie had put in a lot of time getting to know the old man in those six months, spending weeks there, just the two of them. Before then he’d always disliked the miserable old bastard, but a begrudging fondness had gradually crept in, and he’d been genuinely gutted when old Dougal Macrae took his last breath.
He didn’t return to Scotland until years later. He’d been on the run from the life he hated and the person he hated even more. Himself. He’d lost Netta for a second time to Colin the Wanker after she walked away from him. He’d accidentally become a father with Claire, probably his best friend in the whole world, and he’d abandoned her and their daughter. Sure, he provided for them financially but physically, he was gone. That was the point he was at when he’d offered to drive some musician friends up to the Highlands to record an album. They’d stayed near Sanna Bay. It was further north than his uncle’s place, but as soon as he got there, Doogie felt the pull of his roots. That same connection with the other half of his heritage just wasn’t there. When he was younger it had been an ongoing source of resentment. These days he didn’t let it bother him. Mainly because he refused to think about it.
Within months of that trip, he’d sold up and moved there. At first, he’d rented the cottage from Grace. Eventually, he persuaded her to sell it to him. They got to know each other and their relationship grew from being occasional bed partners to something else. He thought about sending Grace a message and decided against it, because where would that get them? Absolutely nowhere. She only wanted to hear one thing from him. The one thing he was having difficulty saying.
To take his mind off home, he tiptoed down Netta’s creaky old stairs. Maud was in one of the armchairs. He couldn’t see the other two, but he could hear whining and growling coming from the back of the house. It sounded like Betty was getting aggressive again.
He stopped dead in the kitchen doorway. The growling was coming from Spike, and he was only shagging the shit out of Betty. ‘For fuck’s sake, Spike. Get off her.’
Spike gave one last push and climbed off Betty who didn’t look too unhappy. He wasn’t exactly hanging his head in shame either. Although, with the full extent of his manhood on display, it looked like he had plenty to be proud of.
‘Put it away before anyone else comes down, you dirty get.’ Doogie opened up the back door and shoved Spike outside. Betty tried to follow but he grabbed her collar and held her back.
‘I think she wants to go out.’ Netta padded along the hall in her bare feet. He hadn’t heard her come down.
‘She’s been having another go at Spike. I thought I’d keep them apart.’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately. She’s usually so easy going.’
‘She’s not in season, is she?’
‘She can’t be, she’s not bleeding.’
‘Ah right, can’t be that then.’ Thank fuck for that. Except, he was sure they were properly doing it, and dogs weren’t like humans. They didn’t properly do it for fun.
‘What are you up to today?’ said Netta.
‘I’ve got a meeting to go to. A client. I thought while I was in the area we could do a face to face.’
‘Oh great. Talking of meetings, I’m going to invite Mum and Dad over for dinner. Frank as well, if he can make it. We need to talk about Colin.’
‘Okay. You want me to stay away?’
‘No. I want you to be there. I’ve been thinking about what you said last night about him having lost any will to live. I think we need to do something before it’s too late.’
We? Was she forgetting how much he and the accountant couldn’t stand each other?
‘I know you don’t like him.’
‘Maybe try something a bit stronger, Net.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I know you loathe and detest him, but you have to admit, even you’re beginning to feel sorry for him.’
‘I’m not. I am so not. All right, I’ll come. I’ll be back late afternoon.’
Doogie held the door of the car open for Spike. ‘I’m still mad at you, you frisky fucker, so don’t think this is a treat or anything.’
Spike gave him the sad eye and slunk out. There were already two cars on the wide drive. He’d parked behind the smaller one. Doogie rang the bell. He had a key, but he didn’t want to surprise them. They normally had plenty of notice when he visited.
His stepdad, Clive, answered the door. ‘Oh my word! What a lovely surprise. And you’ve brought Spike. Julie, it’s Doogie.’ He threw his arms around Doogie and Doogie relaxed. Clive had that effect on him. Considering his mum and Clive had only got together when Doogie was in his mid-thirties, it was crazy how easily he’d become the dad figure in his life.
Doogie’s mum came into the hall. ‘It is you. I thought I was hearing things. Is Merrie with you?’
He kissed her and gave her a hug. ‘No, Mum. A few days yet.’
She pushed herself away from him. ‘Everything all right with you two?’ She still hadn’t forgiven him for not telling her she was a grandmother until Merrie was sixteen. Merrie was twenty now and Doogie suspected forgiving him was never going to be on his mum’s to do list.
‘Everything’s good.’
‘So you’re staying for a while then?’
‘I’m er, I’m staying with friends.’
Her eyes became two slits. ‘Which friends?’
‘Netta.’
She gave him a look only mothers could get away with. ‘Netta? Again?’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘Isn’t it? Is that why you can’t look me in the eye, Dougal? And what about Grace? Does she know you’re staying with Netta?’
Clive took her arm. ‘Darling, I expect Doogie’s got a lot to tell us. Perhaps we should move into the conservatory.’
His mum glared at him, her eyebrows shifting upwards. Doogie tried to glare back but as usual, it was a lost cause. Even if he’d had no intention of telling them about the whole messed-up situation at Netta’s house, he was going to have to tell them now.
‘It sounds as though this Colin needs a friend,’ said Clive.
‘It sounds as though this Colin’s an arsehole,’ added Doogie’s mum.
‘That’s very true, darling. It certainly does sound like he’s been an arsehole. In the past, at any rate. But I guess that’s all the more reason why he needs a friend.’
‘I suppose so. And if we cut all the arseholes out of our life, where would we be then, eh Dougal?’ She gave him another of those looks. Plus, she was still calling him by his full name. She was probably still annoyed about the Netta thing.
Doogie tutted. ‘Was that a question, or an accusation?’
She was doing the Macrae stare now. Doogie thought of his grandad who could make you crap your pants with that stare. And even though he was way too old to be bothered by it now, he still shrivelled slightly under his mum’s uncompromising attention. He decided to change the subject. ‘Can Spike stay with you for a bit?’
‘Of course,’ said Clive. ‘We’ll take good care of him.’
‘Why can’t he stay at Netta’s?’ said his mum.
‘He’s getting a bit over friendly with Netta’s dog.’
His mum arched her eyebrows again. He knew what she was thinking. Like dog, like owner. He turned to Clive. ‘Can a bitch get pregnant if she’s not in season?’
Clive frowned. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m a doctor, not a vet. I do know one though. I’ll ask.’
Doogie let himself in with the spare key Netta had given him. A delicious aroma of something cooking filled the air. He followed the sound of the radio in the kitchen and found Geraldine standing in front of the table with her hands in a big bowl. She looked up at him and then around him. ‘Is Spike not with you?’
‘I left him with a friend. He was annoying Betty.’
‘Oh I see. I’m making steak and mushroom pies for dinner. Nearly done with the pastry, then we can have a nice chat.’
She put the ball of raw pastry into the fridge and washed her hands. ‘Right we’ll leave that to chill for a bit. Shall we go into the breakfast room? We won’t go in the garden in case Colin’s out there.’
She asked him to make her a cappuccino in the coffee machine. He took it in and sat down with her. ‘Have you seen Colin then?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I expect he’s keeping a low profile. Have you?’
‘Only last night, from a distance. His face looked pretty bad though.’
Geraldine picked up her cup. ‘I never took to him, you know. I always felt bad about that. I suppose I thought it had in some way contributed to him being such a – I’m going to say it – bastard to my Netta.’
Doogie smiled. ‘I don’t think that was the reason.’
‘I know that really, but you know how it is when you have dark days.’
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘We always hoped you’d come back and whisk her away from him. Save her from disappearing into that soulless shell she’d become. Little did we know.’
‘I tried. She didn’t want me.’
Geraldine placed a hand on his arm. ‘I know, sweetheart. Is that what you’re doing here now? Trying to save her? Come on, love, you don’t think anyone believes that story about fancying a change, do you?’
‘Merrie told me. She keeps in touch with Liza. They talk.’
‘Those girls and their talk. Never stop. It was good of you to want to protect her.’
‘I couldn’t let him hurt her again.’
‘I understand. You feel you let her down last time. But you didn’t really. She wasn’t ready then. When she was, she found a way back on her own. That’s the thing about Netta, she doesn’t need anyone to save her. She’s very self-sufficient.’
Doogie couldn’t stop a heavy sigh escaping from him. ‘I know she is.’
She squeezed his arm. ‘That doesn’t mean she wants to do everything on her own. She still needs friends. And I’m glad you’re back in her life. As a friend.’