25. Two old drunks
25
TWO OLD DRUNKS
Frank knew he was behaving like a first-class eejit, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Last night, he’d vowed to sort out this ridiculous mess with Netta. On Wednesday night, he’d been angry that she could accuse him of so many things in the space of a few sentences. Truth was that he was still annoyed, but it had gone too far. People were beginning to notice. Liza, in her own inimitable way, had asked him yesterday what was up. Naturally, he didn’t tell her but it did make him realise it was time to grow up, take the moral high ground and all that. Although that last bit didn’t sound particularly grown up, now that he thought about it.
So there he was, all set to hold out an olive branch and then she pulled up with that attitude, like it was all his fault. He should have been thinking about how much he was missing her, even though she was just a few feet away. Instead he was thinking about how she was comparing him to Doogie and wondering just how badly he was coming off. New man Frank? What a joke. He was just the same self-conscious fool hiding away from the obvious. Doogie Chambers was here for one thing only. To take Netta away from him. He’d as much as said so at the family meeting with that comment about it being hard to get over stuff. Hard to get over Netta is what he meant. So he’d come back for her. And Frank was just standing by and letting it happen.
He busied himself preparing the small bedroom for its makeover. When that was done, he put on some music and made a start on dinner for two.
Colin came in just as he was preparing the rice. He sniffed the air. ‘Mmm, that smells good. Curry?’
‘Yep. Chicken.’
‘Excellent. I haven’t had a decent curry in ages. Have I got time for a quick shower? I’m filthy. Been cleaning out a dead man’s shed. Hasn’t been touched for two years.’ He was extremely jaunty for a beaten-up homeless man who’d spent the day carrying out an unenviable task.
‘Yeah, no problem.’
When Colin came back down, he was even jauntier. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘You can get some bowls and cutlery out.’
‘For how many?’
‘Two.’
‘Okay.’ He said it in that way people did when they wanted you to know they were in the middle of working out what was going on.
Frank ignored the inference. If Colin was hoping he’d spill the beans he was out of luck. ‘D’you want beer or wine?’
‘You can’t beat a cold beer with curry.’
‘My sentiments exactly. Can you get some out of the fridge?’
Frank set the food out on the table and refused to think about how wrong it felt to be getting on with Colin Grey.
Colin heaped curry and rice into his bowl and wolfed it down. ‘This is really good. There’s something about curry and chicken that works so well, isn’t there? I used to love the chicken bhuna at the Rajdoot. Have you tried it?’
‘No. I’ll make a point of trying it next time I’m in there. Have you not been in there yourself lately?’
‘No, it’s been off limits for about a year now. Meat and fish for a lot longer. Arianne and her mad theories. She insisted on cooking everything herself.’
‘It’s possible to make some great veggie meals these days.’
‘Not if you’re Arianne it isn’t. She can turn a slice of hot buttered toast into a lump of charcoal coated with an oil slick.’ Colin ripped off a piece of naan bread and used it to scoop up more curry. ‘Which reminds me, Netta’s cooking’s improved. Her culinary skills weren’t exactly as dismal as Arianne’s, but they were a bit basic. I generally did the cooking.’
Frank stopped eating and gave Colin the evil eye. ‘I guess that was because you weren’t working all the hours to pay the bills and feed and clothe the family.’ The cheek of the fella. In spite of all that he’d done to Netta, she’d taken him in, and this was how he repaid her.
‘I didn’t mean it as a criticism. She really couldn’t cook. It didn’t bother her. She found it funny. We both did. We’d have a good laugh about it actually.’ Colin took a slow drink of his beer. ‘This might come as a surprise to you, Frank, but we did laugh quite a lot in the early days. We did actually get on. By the way, why aren’t you over there tonight?’
Frank carried on with the evil eye. He wanted Colin to know he could see that he was twisting things around to suit his own ends, just like Netta said he would. Well Frank could do that too. He could twist with the best of them if he had to. ‘I thought you might want some company. It must be lonely over here on your own, night after night.’ He wanted to add unloved and unwanted but that was a twist too far and Frank wasn’t that cruel.
Colin’s expression changed to a satisfied smirk. ‘Oh I get it. You don’t want to be over there. It’s him, isn’t it? Chambers.’
‘Not true.’ Shit. The twisty fecker had seen right through him.
Colin leaned back. ‘Any chance of another beer?’
‘Help yourself. I’ll have one too.’
Colin flipped the tops off the beer bottles and handed one to Frank. ‘I understand how you feel.’
‘Is that so?’ It was a strange kind of duel this. The two of them were dancing around each other verbally, both saying things and not saying things but still conveying the meaning.
He rolled the beer bottle in his hand. ‘Personally, I tend to measure my life before and after the second coming.’
Frank snorted. ‘You getting all religious on me?’
‘The first coming was before she met me, when she was with him. The second was when he came back and took her from me.’
‘She’s not a possession,’ said Frank, even though he’d been thinking virtually the same thing not that long ago.
‘I know that. It was a figure of speech. Besides, it’s not possible to possess Netta. Not even Chambers can do that.’ Colin emptied his beer bottle and took out two more from the fridge. ‘You should have seen her back then. She was sublime. Perfect in every way. But different, you know? Not like beauty-queen perfect. Different-planet perfect. Funny and quirky and so, so beautiful.’
‘I can imagine.’ Frank didn’t like the way the conversation was going but he felt compelled to stick with it.
‘So was he, unfortunately. Perfect, I mean. The kind of guy you’d expect to be a film star or something. Good looks and brooding intensity. You know the sort. What’s that term? Golden couple. They were a golden couple. Everyone at uni wanted to be them or be with them, but they were in their own orbit. I don’t think it was deliberate. They just didn’t notice anyone else, except the chosen few, like Claire. The rest of us mere mortals could only look on in awe. Even when they broke up, they were totally consumed by each other. It was frightening to watch from the sidelines.’ Colin stared at the bottle in his hand, his earlier jauntiness all gone.
‘Sure, it was all a long time ago. People change,’ said Frank, the doubts already piling up in his head.
‘They do. Not so sure about them though. I knew she was having an affair. You can tell, can’t you? They leave little traces, the unfaithful. Changes in behaviour, the smell of someone different on them.’
‘I couldn’t say. Ellen, my late wife, had an affair and I didn’t have a clue.’
‘Then you weren’t paying attention, my friend. Maybe I wasn’t either because I didn’t, for one minute, guess who she was having the affair with. I had to wait until she was in the hospital, having just lost his baby, to find out.’ He raised his bottle in the air. ‘The second coming.’
They’d run out of beer and had moved on to wine. Two old drunks sitting on the floor in the living room, sorting through Frank’s records.
Colin picked out an Undertones album. ‘Can we play this one next?’
Frank remembered Netta saying how Colin only pretended to like her music to wheedle his way into her affections and that, given the choice, he preferred eighties pop. ‘I thought Rick Astley was more your style.’
Colin giggled and hiccupped at the same time. ‘I suppose Netta told you that? It was when I met her. I’d led a sheltered life. Very much under the parents’ thumb. But contrary to popular opinion I like lots of different music, including punk. And by the way, there is nothing wrong with Rick Astley.’
‘The man’s an icon.’ Frank was slurring, but at least he was sitting upright which was more than could be said for Colin who was almost lying down. There was a question he’d been wanting to ask all evening. If he didn’t ask now, the opportunity would be lost. They’d be too far gone. ‘Why don’t you paint anymore?’
Colin shrugged. It made him slide down further so that he was very nearly horizontal. ‘I don’t know. I just know I can’t do it.’
‘Can’t do it as in physically unable, or can’t bring yourself to?’
‘Dunno.’ His eyes were almost closed now.
‘C’mon. I want to show you something.’ Frank pulled him up. Together they stumbled into the kitchen.
When they got to the studio door, Colin came to an abrupt halt.
Frank gave him a gentle tug. ‘You won’t want to miss this.’
Colin shook his head. ‘Can’t.’
‘It’s only in there.’
‘Can’t. Can’t go in.’
Frank put his arm around him. ‘I’ve got you. It’s okay.’
It needed some persuading but eventually, Colin let Frank lead him into the studio. They took small, slow steps and stopped in front of a head and shoulders portrait.
Colin opened his eyes wide. ‘It’s me.’
‘Yep. What do you think of it?’
‘It’s very good. You’re very talented.’
‘Not me. Liza.’
‘Liza?’ His voice faltered. ‘Is that how she sees me?’
‘It’s an inspired painting.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He let out a single sob.
‘You know, it would mean the world to her if you painted alongside her.’
‘It’s all cockeyed this, isn’t it? Our kids shouldn’t have to take care of us. At least not until we’re old and infirm.’
Frank remembered all the times when his own darling girl, Robyn, had looked out for him when he was at his lowest. ‘It doesn’t always work that way, Colin. Sometimes you have to let the people who love you take over.’
Colin rubbed his eyes. ‘What about the ones who don’t love you? What are you supposed to do with them?’