Page 52 of Calling Frank O'Hare

Doogie nodded. ‘Grace said she’d had some new visitors. I’ll leave you to your painting. I’m just up the road a bit if you need anything. Come on, Spike.’

‘That’s good of you. Cheers.’ Dammit. He was a nice guy. Frank was hoping he’d be a shit, like Netta’s ex-husband.

He sat back down, deflated and no longer in the mood for painting, but then he noticed the sky had changed colour again and with it, the sea too. He had to get this down. He wasn’t normally one for the outdoor painting, but then again he wasn’t normally one for stalking his partner’s former lovers. So there you go. Things change.

The woman he’d met in the park popped into his head. The one who thought he’d once been slightly better than average looking. He’d taught her fifteen years ago. Christ. And this was the thing. That was only halfway through a thirty year stint. Dedication, she’d had called it. Frank wasn’t sure what he’d call it, but it wasn’t dedication. He remembered how he’d reversed his roles when he told Rebel what he did. Artist first, then teacher. Maybe there was something in that. Then again, he’d been juggling the two for a while now. Perhaps it was time to let one of them go. But what if he hated the choice he made? He recalled Da’s answer when he’d asked why he didn’t become a full-time decorator. ‘What would I do for a hobby?’ Was that why he’d stuck with teaching? Because it certainly wasn’t for the love of it. Like Rebel, he’d enjoyed it at first, then it became convenient, then it became something to get out of the house for. Then it became, what? Something else he was too comfortable to change.

‘There you are.’ Martin appeared from the dunes behind him. ‘I like your paintings there.’

‘They’re only sketches. I’ll do them properly when I get home. I’ve an exhibition coming up in the autumn they’d fit into.’

Martin looked surprised. ‘An exhibition? I had no idea you were that good.’

Frank shrugged. ‘I do all right. Funny thing, I’ve been thinking about Da. Did he ever get you to help him with his decorating?’

‘Nah. That was your thing, the two of you. He never asked me. Not even after you left. Ironic really, seeing as you don’t have a practical bone in your body and I’m the one’s made the money from doing up properties.’

‘I’m insulted that you think I’m impractical, Martin, but I take your point. What did you do with Da then? What was your thing?’

‘Nothing. We didn’t have a thing. It was always about you with Da.’

‘That’s not true. I never saw it that way anyway.’

‘That’s the trouble with you, Frankie Boy. You only see the things you want to see. The rest is just background.’

34

Adrian joins the dots

There was a man at Frank’s front door. Netta probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t decided to put the bins out. It had been an inadvisable decision because it was raining much harder than she’d realised and now she was getting wet. She couldn’t see the man properly. The rain was in her eyes for one thing and, for another, he was wearing a waterproof coat with the hood pulled down. All she could tell was that he was a big man.

The man turned and saw her. ‘You must be really desperate to get those bins out.’

Netta wiped the rain from her eyes. ‘I didn’t notice how bad it was until… Adrian, is that you under there?’

He raised his hood slightly. ‘Yeah. Do you know where he is?’

She gestured towards her house. ‘You’d better come in.’

The dogs started barking as soon as he stepped inside. He shook off his wet coat and hung it in the hall. ‘All right you lot, I’m harmless.’

Fred began to whine. Adrian bent down and patted him. ‘Hello, mate. What you doing here then? Where’s Frank?’

‘I’ll just get these wet things off, then I’ll make us a warm drink,’ said Netta.

Adrian went off in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Righto, I’ll put the kettle on.’

When she got back downstairs, she found he’d made tea. It was a bit disconcerting because she normally only ever saw him in the Hope and Anchor, Frank’s favourite pub.

‘You’ve got it nice in here,’ he said. ‘You haven’t changed it much but you’ve freshened it up a bit. It’s good.’

‘You’ve been in here before then?’

‘Yeah, but not since you moved in, obviously. Anyway. Frank? Has something happened? It’s just that he didn’t turn up for a darts match, or our usual monthly get-together. I tried calling him and there was no answer, so I thought I’d come over.’

‘He had to go up to Scotland for a family emergency.’

‘Shit. Is Robyn okay?’

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