28. Doogie and the tough old girl
28
DOOGIE AND THE TOUGH OLD GIRL
Doogie was resting his stomach after the big Sunday lunch his mum had laid on. Spike was leaning against his legs. He’d hardly left his side all morning.
‘He’s missed you,’ said Clive.
Doogie rubbed the top of his dog’s head. ‘It’s probably home he’s missing. He’s used to roaming wherever he wants.’ Spike wasn’t the only one. They’d only been in Birmingham five days and Doogie was already starting to get that hemmed in feeling that usually came when he’d reached his tolerance threshold for city living. It was a threshold with a low setting.
‘When are you going home?’ said his mum.
‘Not sure yet. Will you be okay to keep him for a bit longer?’
‘Yes, no problem,’ said Clive. ‘But while I think of it, you should be out of the danger zone by the end of the week. I spoke to my vet friend. Dogs can have what they called a silent heat. That means they don’t show any outward signs, like bleeding. If your lady dog was at the mating stage, that lasts for ten days at the most, so you should be in the clear by next weekend at the latest. Unless Spike’s already been successful, that is.’
Spike’s ears pricked up at the mention of his name, then he rested his head on Doogie’s knee. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Doogie would have said Spike was way too innocent for that sort of thing, but there was nothing innocent about the way he’d been giving it to Betty. ‘If I’m still here by next weekend, I’ll take him back. I’d better go. Gotta be somewhere.’
‘Where?’ said his mum.
‘Gonna visit an old lady.’
‘Which old lady?’
‘No one you know. I only met her the other day. I’m just gonna look in on her. Make sure she’s okay.’
He stopped outside Mrs Sweeting’s house and cut the engine. He didn’t know what he was doing here really. But he was here now, and the old lady was standing in the window. She’d seen him.
She had the door open before he reached it. ‘What now? You got more letters?’
‘No. I was passing. I wanted to see how you were doing after the letter.’
‘Oh you wanted to see, did you? Well take a good look. There. Now you’ve seen you can go back to them old friends of Samuel and tell them Priscilla Sweeting is doing just fine.’
The door was about to swing shut on him. Doogie put his hand out to stop it. ‘They don’t know I’m here.’
She pulled it back open and looked him up and down. ‘Well don’t stand there messing up my step, get in.’
He edged past her. The top of her head just about reached his chest. She looked tiny against him but that didn’t make her any less fierce. She closed the door behind him. ‘In there.’
He went into the living room. It was a decent size, but it was crammed with furniture and ornaments. She pointed to a big sofa overloaded with cushions. ‘Sit. I’ll make tea.’
He sat down and looked around the room while he waited. One wall was covered with family photos. His eyes searched for one that might have Samuel in it. There was nothing on the wall but he spotted a framed picture on the mantelpiece. He got up to take a closer look and saw it was an old wedding photo. Behind it was the letter, its envelope still sealed.
Mrs Sweeting came in with a tray. ‘That what you here for, to snoop around?’
He slunk back to the sofa. ‘Sorry. I was just curious to see what Mr Sweeting looked like after everything I’ve heard.’
‘What you heard? What them say?’
‘That he was a good man and a good friend. A really nice guy, and a great gardener.’
‘Pah. That’s not much for a lifetime.’
‘I wouldn’t mind that for a description of my life.’
‘Then you’re a fool. Tek a biscuit.’
‘I’m fine thanks. I had a big lunch.’
‘I said tek a biscuit.’
Shit, this old girl was tough. Doogie picked out the smallest one.
She kept her eye on him to make sure he ate it. ‘It’s good. I make them myself. You look a bit like him. Did they tell you that?’
Doogie shook his head, his mouth still full of biscuit.
‘That’s probably why they sent you.’
That made sense. It was no wonder Clyde had been so sure the old woman would open the door to him.
‘Not as handsome as you, though. Where’s your weaselly friend?’
‘We’re not friends. I was just looking after him.’
‘What are you, some kind of social worker?’
‘Just trying to help out.’
‘You want to help out, you can cut my hedge for me.’
Doogie hauled himself out of the overstuffed sofa. At last, something he could get right. ‘No problem.’
Her tongue clicked. ‘Not on the Lord’s day. Come back tomorrow. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late. Don’t be early either.’
He left Mrs Sweeting with a promise to be there at ten o’clock sharp and drove around until he found a park. He picked a quiet bench to make some calls. The first was to Merrie. She preferred video calls. He didn’t mind them. They’d only been seeing each other for about four years so looking at his daughter’s face was still a novelty for him.
She popped up on the screen. ‘Hiya. Where are you?’
‘In a park. On my way back to Netta’s.’
‘How’s it going with Liza’s dad and everything?’
‘Sort of okay, I think. Julie and Clive were asking about you this morning.’
‘I’ll message them later. I’ll be there in a few days, so I’ll see you all then.’
‘You haven’t told your mum I’m here, have you?’
‘No. Oh shit, she’s coming. I better go. Laters.’
Doogie caught a glimpse of Claire in the background, seconds before Merrie cut the call but she probably didn’t see him. He didn’t like asking Merrie to keep secrets from her, but he knew Claire too well. If she found out he was here, she’d go apeshit.
The thing about Claire was that she was very loyal and protective towards the people she loved. She’d been Netta’s friend before she’d been his. They’d only really become close after she’d fallen out with Netta over Colin the Wanker. For a couple of years they were more than friends, but it wasn’t until they’d agreed to split and had a final shag for old times’ sake that they accidentally made a baby together. It was around the same time that Netta had turned up in Manchester again. He hadn’t known he was about to become a father until after Netta had walked out on him. He hadn’t known that he almost became a father for the second time until years later when Claire and Netta reconnected. So now the two women were best mates again and Claire’s protection radar was on high alert. She also knew everything about him and Netta. So, if it came out that he was here, along with the wanker and Frank she’d be on his case for making a bad situation worse.
With bad situations still on his mind, he called Grace. She answered quickly. That was good. ‘I’m in the middle of something, what is it?’ Okay that wasn’t so good.
‘Nothing. Just realised we hadn’t spoken for a while.’
‘Uh huh, and?’
‘How are you?’
‘Busy. Too busy for small talk. Are you still in Birmingham?’
‘Yeah. Merrie’s coming up later in the week.’
‘And is that the only reason you’re still there?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t call me unless it’s to say you’re coming home. Then we can talk.’
On the way back to Netta’s, Doogie had a message alert on his phone. He was hoping it was from Grace, although he knew that was pretty much an impossibility after their call. If Grace was mad at you, she was mad at you until you gave her a reason to stop, and saying he wasn’t coming back wasn’t the reason she was waiting for. He’d always liked that about her, that certainty. He’d never had it, which is probably why he managed to fuck up every relationship he’d ever had. You’d have thought he’d have learned by now, but here he was, still making the same old mistakes.
He pulled up at Netta’s and checked his phone. As he’d guessed, it wasn’t from Grace. It was from Merrie:
Mum knows. Netta already told her.
Shit, of course she did. What kind of a dickhead was he not to realise Netta would have been speaking to her? He tapped out a message back:
How angry is she, on a scale of one to ten?
I’d say twenty. I tried to explain why you were there but you know what she’s like.
Netta’s dad pulled up behind him. Doogie still found it strange calling him Arthur. He’d always been Mr Wilde when he’d visited before. He’d only been a kid back then though. If things had worked out with him and Netta, they’d have eventually progressed to the stage where it was natural to call him Arthur. Maybe they’d be so far along the scale of familiarity that he might even be calling him Dad. That would have been the stuff of his dreams at one time. Except none of that happened, thanks to his own stupidity. And now Doogie was back here, trying to behave like there hadn’t been a gap of more than thirty years since the days when he thought Mr Wilde was probably the best dad in the world, and trying to act like he didn’t still hold the man in awe.
Doogie and Arthur got out of their cars at the same time. Colin the Wanker took longer to drag his arse off Arthur’s passenger seat. He smiled at Doogie. For some reason, he seemed to have got it into his head that they were friends. Doogie didn’t return the smile but that didn’t stop the wanker from talking to him: ‘I’ve been up at the allotment. Done a bit more digging.’
‘Right.’
‘Yeah, it’s really starting to take shape now.’ The wanker looked down at the ground.
‘Great.’ Doogie turned to Arthur. ‘I can’t come tomorrow. I’ve got something on.’
Colin the Wanker looked like he wasn’t too unhappy about that. ‘Is it work?’
‘Not exactly.’ Now it was Doogie’s turn to look away, except he was more for looking over a person’s shoulder than shoegazing.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, Colin.’ Arthur stared at the wanker until he got the message.
‘Oh right. Yes, okay. I’ll bugger off then, shall I? My presence not required.’
‘Exactly. Try to get through the night without doing any harm to yourself or anyone else, won’t you?’ said Arthur.
‘Rest assured, I’ll do my utmost not to cause you any further trouble.’
‘Everything okay between you two?’ said Doogie, when Colin the Wanker had gone.
‘Things haven’t been okay between us two for years, but if nothing else, becoming his minder has loosened my inhibitions when it comes to speaking my mind. I’m a liberated man, Doogie. Everything all right with you?’
‘Yeah. About tomorrow, I’m going to cut Mrs Sweeting’s hedge. I just didn’t want to say in front of him.’
‘Enough said. I must have got it wrong, I thought she wasn’t very welcoming.’
‘She wasn’t but I dropped by today, to see how she was. The letter must have come as a shock.’
‘And how was she?’
‘Still unwelcoming. But she did ask me to come back to cut the hedge, so I guess I’m growing on her.’
Arthur went straight off without going into the house. Poor guy probably wanted a quiet night in without having to babysit a man he couldn’t stand. Doogie felt bad about not stepping up more, especially as that was why he was supposed to be here.
As he walked up the path, he got a message from Claire ordering him to call her. Yeah right, like that was gonna happen.
Netta was in the garden with Frank. They had faces on them like an old married couple who just about tolerated each other. From what she’d told him about their relationship, it wasn’t how Doogie had expected them to behave. He guessed it was the current situation that was screwing things up with them. Only thing he couldn’t pin down was whether it was him or the wanker that was doing the screwing up.
Netta looked as if she couldn’t decide if she was happy or sorry to see him. Her face eventually settled into a smile so that probably meant she was happy. ‘Hi. Good day?’
‘Yeah. You?’
‘Sort of.’ She flashed a look at Frank. ‘I’ve found out something worrying about Colin.’
‘What, just the one thing?’
She did an eye roll. ‘I think it was Arianne who gave him the black eye.’
Doogie took a seat. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay? Is that all you have to say?’
‘What do you want me to say? The guy’s had it coming for years. He probably tried to do the same to her that he did to you, but she wouldn’t stand for it.’
‘Oh and I would, I suppose.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘No, but you insinuated it.’
‘You misinterpreted it.’
‘No I did not.’ She jumped up and stormed off into the house.
Doogie scratched his head. ‘What is it with that woman?’
Frank shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’