by Diane Ezzard
“Oh no, I’ve forgotten to get milk,” she said.
“That’s okay, I can drink it black.” I scanned the room. Mia didn’t have much furniture and what she did have was very basic and cheap looking. It made me appreciate what I had. We sat down and I told her everything that had been going on from following Trevor Darcy to seeing Jack and my suspicions about him going with hookers.
“Not that it’s any of my business, of course.” I was in full flight telling my tale when Mia began to laugh. I stared at her and stopped talking.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You are,” she said. I wasn’t happy if she wasn’t taking me seriously. I sat there in silence for a few moments. Her hands were clasped together underneath her chin.
“Do you know what Jack does for a living?” she asked.
“How he conducts his life is up to him.” Mia smiled and shook her head. I was confused.
“Seriously, do you want me to tell you what his job is?”
“No, I don’t know very much about him and I don’t want to, now. The least I know about him the better. When I first met him I rather fancied him but now…”
“He’s a private detective.”
“He’s a what?” I thought I’d misheard.
“He’s a private investigator. He was fired from the police service because of his drinking so now he has his own company doing investigative work.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes,” Mia nodded. I put my two hands over my mouth as if using both would help shut up the big mouth of mine that I so readily put my foot in.
“What an idiot I am. Why didn’t I think of that?” I shook my head now. Mia didn’t help. She was still laughing. “I could kick myself for my behaviour.”
“That’s why we go to meetings because we’re not all there. I’m sure he’ll forgive you for your outburst.”
“I owe Joyce an apology as well.”
“That’s good that you’re recognising when you’re in the wrong. It means you’re working your programme. It tells us that when we are wrong, we should promptly admit it.”
“Oh well,” I smiled, “At least I’m doing something right.”
Joking apart, I was beginning to see the benefit of being honest and not keeping things to myself, even though it was hard. I’d spent a lifetime of building up a wall to protect myself. Now, letting people into my inner sanctum was difficult but did give me a sense of freedom that people were learning about me, warts and all. Although there was still one thing I didn’t believe I could tell anyone about, something I thought I’d take to the grave.
I sent Joyce a text later that night apologising for my behaviour and I phoned her the following day to talk it through. She wasn’t horrible to me. She pointed out a section of the literature that she felt might be good for me to read. All this AA stuff was like going back to school. I had to re-learn a different way of doing things. I felt like a child learning how to walk and talk. When I pointed this out to Joyce, she told me she had been shown how to dance again to the beat of God’s heart. I liked that idea and hoped one day I would have her compassion and wisdom.
Jack was a different matter. I didn’t have his phone number so would have to wait until the next time I saw him at a meeting to say sorry. The opportunity came the following week when I arrived at one of my regular meetings. As soon as I noticed him, my heart started thumping, and I felt shaky inside but knew I’d be better doing it straight away rather than putting it off.
I walked over to where he stood, getting himself a coffee.
“Hi Jack, how are you?” He gave me a half-hearted smile.
“Oh it’s you,” he said.
“I’m sorry about the other day. I was out of order. I wondered if you fancied going for a coffee some time and I could explain to you.” His smile disappeared.
“Thanks for the apology, although it wasn’t necessary. You don’t owe me any explanation.” He then turned and walked off and started talking to Bob, an elderly gentleman.
I stood there smarting. That wasn’t the response I expected. I had been rebuffed, and it didn’t feel good. I sat through the meeting hardly listening. I rocked back and forward in my chair, reliving what Jack had said to me. Things hadn’t gone my way, and I didn’t like it. I’d mistakenly thought that the occasions he looked over at me in the meetings, he might have liked me. He made his feelings obvious now, so I was going to have to put any notions about him out of my mind. Easier said than done.
I tried to focus on work. I was due to go back the following Monday, and I had mixed emotions about it. I had got used to my time off. It had been nice being stress-free, but I did enjoy my job so it would be good to get back helping others and I felt ready.
I woke up the following morning feeling jumpy. It was like my first day at school. I put the clothes I was going to wear out the night before. I hadn’t done that for a long time. Normally, I rushed around finding something clean and ironing my clothes on the last minute. I had an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I went in and my manager asked to see me. The butterflies were churning over. My mouth felt dry. I hoped I hadn’t done anything wrong. She sat me down in her office. The room didn’t seem any different to last time I had been in it. The certificates were still on the wall, the filing cabinets were there but something felt different.
“So how are you?” Sheila asked. Sheila had only worked there a few months. With her thick set appearance and grey hair, she looked very matronly. She didn’t have a northern accent like most of us. I remember her saying she moved up north from Surrey after her marriage ended. I smiled at her, hoping the question had been genuine and not just going through the motions.
“I’m much better thanks, Sheila, and keen to get back into the swing of things.”
“That’s good.” She clasped her hands together with her elbows leaning on the desk between us.
“Obviously we had to share your clients out between the other counsellors while you were off.” She glanced up from her notes towards me. I began to wriggle in the seat. “I’ve been speaking to the other managers and we’ve come to the conclusion your clients would be better left where they are now. For their continuity, it would be too disruptive to give them back to you.”
“Yes, of course, I understand.” I hadn’t expected that. I gulped.
“And the last thing we would want is for you to go off on long-term sick again with stress.” Her voice seemed to linger on the word stress. I looked at her now waiting for the punch line.
“So we decided it best to break you back in gently to see how you coped.”
“I see,” I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
“For now we would like you to go on reduced duties and do admin work.”
“Admin work?” I frowned.
“Yes, we want to make life easy for you so we’d like you to do the filing.”
“Filing?” I shouted too loud.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But, I’m ready to work my normal duties.”
“I’m so glad you’ve come back eager, but we’d like to see how things go first, Sophie. It should only be for a short time.” The pencil I was holding snapped in two. I couldn’t speak any further for fear of crying. I was a counsellor. I didn’t want to sit all day filing. This felt like a punishment.
I was banished to the filing room away from the other staff. Sat there on my own I was finding this all too difficult. There was a lot going on in my head. I felt mixed up about Charlie. Jack had rejected me and now work didn’t think I was capable of doing my job. Dejected, I looked down at the papers in front of me. I almost filed them in the wrong order in the cabinet as my mind wasn’t on the task at hand. I glanced at my watch. Forty-five minutes until my lunch break. I needed a drink. Alcohol would block out how I was feeling. I began to shake. I didn’t want to drink, but it felt the only solution at the moment.
Chapter 17
SOPHIE
I sat on the floo
r behind one of the cabinets in the tiny room and prayed. I didn’t know if it would help but I had to do something. My eyes were squeezed shut as I recalled the words of the serenity prayer and I said them over and over. I was thankful now that I was working in the room on my own and that no one saw me. What might they think of me, kneeling on the floor, praying?
I suddenly remembered I had some literature in my handbag about recovery so I rummaged around for it and trotted off to the toilet and sat there reading. I stayed there long enough for the idea of a drink to leave me. It got to lunchtime, and I sent a text to Joyce to tell her I was struggling. She phoned me straight back. We had a brief conversation. The more I listened the more I realised a drink was the last thing I needed. It would only make matters worse.
“Can you get to a meeting tonight?”
“Well, I don’t normally.”
“That wasn’t the question. Can you get to one?”
“Yes, of course, if it will help.”
“Trust me, it’ll help and if any more thoughts of a drink come on, phone me back. You’ve done the right thing today so well done. This is how it works.” I didn’t deserve any praise but was willing to take any compliments at the moment. I was about to put the phone down and Joyce finished by saying “Sophie, I’m proud of you.” I ended the call. I wanted to cry, but it was more out of relief that I hadn’t acted on my instincts and gone and got a drink.
I went to a meeting that night and I was grateful Jack wasn’t there. I was still smarting from his rejection more than I would have liked. Mia, however, was there. She spoke about being full of fear. I chatted with her at the end of the meeting.
“I’m scared, Sophie, and I’m not sure anymore if my fears are real or imaginary.”
“I know that feeling, Mia. I had a stalker once, and I thought I was going mad. I couldn’t trust my instincts and it was a difficult time in my life. If there’s anything I can do to help, please phone me.” I was only early in recovery but Mia and I had developed a connection.
“Maybe we could meet up again sometime soon?” she said. I nodded.
“We’ll arrange it.”
When I got home, Charlie had left a note to meet him. My breathing increased as I remembered how we left things last time. As much as I didn’t think it was a good idea, I wanted to tell him about his dad. I thought it was right he should know that his suspicions were correct. He asked to meet up by the moor the following evening.
My muscles were twitching when I arrived at our rendezvous point. When I saw him, although he still sported a bushy beard, he looked clean with fresh clothes on. I looked around.
“So you’ve been managing then?” I asked. He gazed at me with a strange expression. I didn’t know what to make of it. Neither of us brought up our previous encounter.
“I hope you don’t mind Charlie, but I decided to follow your dad.”
“No, not at all, I haven’t told you this but I hate that man with a passion.” Charlie’s face turned bright red. His eyes bulged and his mouth narrowed.
“Who? Your dad?” My eyes widened.
“Yes, the wonderful Trevor Darcy.” I frowned.
“But you had such a privileged upbringing, I don’t understand, why would you hate him?”
“Money’s not everything. I hate him for the way he treated me. He found out that I’m not his son. Mum and he had a massive row one day. She just came out with the fact she had a fling with his best mate, the year before I was born. He always had his suspicions but from then on he turned against us both. Apparently, my real dad went to live in Australia and wanted nothing to do with me so I just had to put up with nasty Trevor.”
“So, how come your mum and him stayed together?”
“You’d be surprised what goes on behind closed doors. She probably knows too much about him and she doesn’t want to give up the rich lifestyle. They live separate lives under the same roof.”
“Gosh,” I said.
“It made for a very sick environment to grow up in at times. He’s got where he has today with his haulage company by being ruthless. His behaviour is as bad as any of your gangsters, Randy and the like.”
“So it doesn’t surprise you that he visits the red light district?”
“Not at all.”
“I feel sorry for your mum, though.”
“I wouldn’t bother if I was you. She has taken the decision to stay with him so she gets everything she deserves. It’s amazing what people will put up with for money.” Charlie didn’t have a good word to say about his parents. I asked how he was doing and he said he was getting by. I wondered who was helping him because it was obvious to me that someone must be.
“Have you made any leeway with your investigations?” I asked.
“Not a lot but it’s difficult without any help.” I knew he was having a dig at me but I ignored his comments.
“Oh, do you know your mum’s employed a private detective?”
“No, I didn’t know that. Maybe she does believe I’m innocent after all.”
“I’m sure she does. You’ve probably got more support than you realise.” Charlie gave me a dirty look.
“I don’t know about that but you might find something out from this private detective?”
“Erm, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I do know him and we don’t get on very well.”
“Oh well if you know him then perhaps you could put your differences aside for my benefit?”
“I’ll see what I can do but I’m not promising anything because it’s highly unlikely he’ll talk to me.” We said our goodbyes, and I was about to walk off when Charlie grabbed hold off my hand.
Holding on to it, he said, “Thanks for staying by me, Sophie. I do appreciate it.” I gave a dismissive laugh and looked down.
“I didn’t want to leave you on your own with everything but I am frightened for myself.”
“I understand and I’m very grateful.” I blinked and his gaze followed my eyes. I watched his hand holding mine. I gave him a peck on the cheek and released myself from his grip. I walked away leaving him. I knew his eyes were following me but I didn’t look back. I thought how things might have been different had the circumstances allowed.
Thoughts of Charlie were soon dismissed when I got into my work routine. Things were becoming more bearable. As new clients came in, I was given a few cases to deal with. I was grateful that they hadn’t totally put me down as a no-hoper. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realised they had done the right thing and handled me well. I didn’t want to be unduly stressed. As usual, I had got things wrong, and I now accepted my lot, filing and all.
I’d made arrangements to meet up with Mia after work the following evening. She contacted me and told me she had information I might be interested to know but she couldn’t tell me over the phone. I was intrigued. The first thing I thought when I saw her was how much better she seemed sober. Her skin was rosy and her eyes sparkled. We hugged when we met. I was eager to learn what news she had but tried to play it cool. I asked about her son.
“Things aren’t brilliant. My mum has told me if I drink again then she is going to go for custody of him because she believes I am an unfit mother.”
“Oh dear, that’s not good. The very threat itself must put you in a stressful situation. Maybe the father will help out when he finds out?”
“I’d rather not know. Perhaps I owe it to Alfie but it fills me with dread thinking who it might be.”
“I understand but it can’t be easy for you as a single parent.”
“No it’s not and to be honest, I couldn’t manage without help. At the end of the day, I’m Alfie’s mum and I love him.”
I thought about my own problems. I had it easy compared to Mia. Some of us have tougher paths to tread and doing it sober made it doubly difficult.
“I’ve got to admit to you Sophie, I’m scared. Scared of drinking again, scared of what the future holds.” She looked down at her beautifully manicured hands.
“I know what it’s like to wake up full of fear,” I said.
“Anyway, enough about me, how are you doing, Sophie?” I looked all around the cafe. It wasn’t very busy which I was pleased about. I wasn’t very happy about anyone overhearing my conversation. Two middle-aged women were deep in conversation a couple of tables away but they were out of earshot.
“I’ve been a bit screwed up. I nearly drank but I’ve got through that and feel stronger.”
“Yeah, well done, you. I wish I could help myself from giving in to the urge when it comes on me but I mess up every time. It’s like my life’s a game of snakes and ladders. I sober up and my life gets better. Then I drink again and my world comes tumbling down and I’m left to pick myself up, dust myself down and start all over again.”
“For me, it’s remembering what I’ve been told and picking up the phone before I pick up a drink,” I said.
“So have you patched things up with Jack?”
“No, I haven’t and I don’t know why I’m getting so hung up about it.”
“I know why.” Mia had a glint in her eye. I raised my eyebrows.
“Oh?” I asked.
“You fancy him. That’s why you’re so upset about it.”
“I know but it’s as well he didn’t want to know because I’ve been advised to stay clear of men.”
“I wish I could do that,” Mia smiled.
“So are you seeing anyone?” I asked.
“No, I’m like you. I go for the bad boys and it’s not good for my peace of mind when they treat me mean.” I nodded. “Speaking of bad boys, have you seen anything of Charlie?” she asked.
“’Fraid so. I’m trying to watch myself there.”
“I’d stay away from that one if I was you.”
“Oh?” I wondered if she had more to tell me about Charlie.
“My news might help you on that score.”
“Right.” I sat there patiently waiting for her to expand. I took a sip of my now cold coffee.