Jersey Girl

by J A Heron

  It was a beautiful service. It was clear they’d spent a lot of time talking about Jess, her personality, and all the things she liked to do. I found it a little strange that they never mentioned how she died, why she died, or where she died. An hour or so later, I stand with about twenty people as four men lower Jess’ coffin into the ground. I wipe a tear, but feel comforted as Connor stands beside me, holding me, offering so much comfort.

  Jess’ parents keep looking in my direction. I can see they’re wondering who I am.

  After the service, I make my way over to them, to introduce myself and offer my condolences. “Hello,” I say, realising I don’t know their surname. I shake both their hands in turn.

  “How did you know Jess?” the man asks.

  One of the things I was taught in rehab was to never be ashamed of the journey I’d taken, be proud that I’ve battled something so difficult, and don’t be afraid to tell people the truth. “I met her in rehab. I was the one who found her…”

  A sob jumps up, breaking free as I recall the moment I found her pale, lifeless body covered in blood. I try to remain strong.

  “Oh, were you one of her counsellors?”

  “No. I was a patient.”

  I’m annoyed that they would presume I wasn’t an addict. I’m wearing my ‘recovering alcoholic’ badge proudly, for all to see, to let people know I’m strong, I’ve battled, and I’m winning. But these assholes actually look down their noses at me, turn, and walk away. They throw a look of distaste over their shoulders as they go. I’m so pissed off I want to scream and shout at them. How dare they?

  Connor sees my distress. “Don’t worry about them. They’re not worth it.”

  “I know, but… I, I wanted to tell them what a wonderful woman she was. She was bright, clever, and funny…” I trail off, consumed by the emotion I’m struggling to control.

  “Let’s go home,” Connor says, leading me towards the car.

  During the car journey home, my mind is in overdrive. I’m so angry it’s palpable, but Connor’s presence has calmed me down. He’s saying all the right things, comforting me in the right way, and he’s reminded me on many occasions that some people will never understand what it’s like to be in my shoes; in Jess’ shoes.

  “Addicts are not monsters. Recovering addicts are not monsters,” he says, sincerely. “Addicts are people who have moments of weakness, but find incredible strength to turn their lives around. Be proud of who you are, what you’ve achieved. Stuck up fuckers like them don’t deserve your time. They don’t know you, or what you’ve been through in your life.” The anger radiates from him. He’s pissed that they’ve treated me this way, and I think I just fell a little harder for the man who has stolen my heart.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, almost silently.

  I realise I’ve had two tests of my resolve in two days since I left rehab. The mistaken grape juice for red wine incident, and the snooty looks from people who don’t even know me when they find out I’m in recovery. Something tells me it’s going to get a lot harder. There will be more instances of people’s inability to grasp the concept of ‘recovery’, and I have to deal with it when it comes.

  I’m keen to get back to Jersey. I need to surround myself with people who will always support me and hold me up, not drag me down. I can count on my closest friends, the people who have shown me nothing but love and support on this incredibly hard journey. I know without a second thought that, as long as I have all these people in my corner, I will continue to win the fight.

  When I look at Connor, I hope he’ll always be around to lift me up too. Time will tell if he’s around for good. I have no reason to doubt him. He’s moving, changing his life, and moving Heaven and Earth to be with me. This is all happening so fast, I’m overwhelmed, and I’m loving every second.

  When we get back to Connor’s house in the city, I run upstairs and immediately change into my sweats; mismatched of course. When I return downstairs, Connor has questions about my sudden change of outfit. Question marks appear in his eyes, but he doesn’t voice them.

  “I’m used to wearing them now,” I explain. “They help me.”

  I’m sure he doesn’t understand that the clothes I’m wearing are still a huge part of recovery, that I need to feel close to the place I had unconditional support.

  “Whatever you need,” Connor says. He walks up to me and wraps his arms around me, and I instinctively rest my head on his pecs. I sigh deeply, feeling his love surround me, cocoon me, and envelop my whole being. His gentle hands press against my back, move up to stroke my hair, then back again. His arms are what I didn’t even know I was craving while I was at Witchfield Manor, and had I had to say goodbye to him after visiting me, I don’t think I would’ve done as well as I have. If he’d visited, if he’d been there through it all, seeing him leave without taking me with him would’ve killed any chance I had of recovery. I’m thankful things have worked out the way they have; it’s a blessing

  I’m blessed to have him here now, embracing each other, and I’m blessed to have a man in my life so understanding.

  I’d fallen asleep on the lounge sofa, and when I wake, I feel terrible. I had no idea I was so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years. However, I drag my bum off the sofa and go in search of Connor. He’s talking on the phone when I enter the kitchen. When he sees me enter, he smiles likes he’s not seen me for weeks, and I return that smile, letting him know I feel the same.

  “Okay, so it’s all set?” he asks to the unknown person on the other end of the line. “Good. Keep me updated.” He ends the call and walks towards me, picking me up and swinging me around. “I’ve got great news,” he says.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, giggling and feeling dizzy from all the spinning. This playful side of him chips another piece of my guarded heart away.

  “Two days and we’re out of here. Nothing but sea, fresh air, beautiful scenery, and friends, family and fun.”

  “I take it we’re going back then…”

  “You bet your sweet butt we are,” he says excitedly. “Everything is set. We just need to pack up the things we need. The rest will be shipped, and that’s that.”

  “So where will you be living?” I ask. He places me down on my feet and pushes me back at arm’s length.

  “We… us…” he trails off. “We’re staying with Benny and Raven for a while, until our house is ready to move into. I know how desperate you are to get back. We could always stay here until our house is ready.” I love how he says our house on more than one occasion.

  “But…” I’ve done nothing to earn that house; it’s not mine. I don’t have a job to pay for something so lavish. I find the courage to voice these concerns.

  “I want you with me.” He looks sad, like I’ve slapped him across the face. “It doesn’t matter. I know you don’t have much to contribute…”

  “I don’t have anything to contribute,” I say emphatically, cutting him off. “I don’t deserve…”

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say you’re not deserving. I’m offering you a life, with me. Kat, please. When Benny offered you a place to live, did you say no? When Grumpy offered you a job, did you say no?”

  “No, but…”

  “So why are you saying no to me?” He frowns, his eyes drop, a sure sign I’ve wounded him.

  I think about it for a moment. He’s right. There is no difference here. He’s another good Samaritan, helping someone out. It just so happens I’ll be sleeping with that Samaritan, but who cares?

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Yippee!” he screeches, picking me up and twirling me around again. He’s behaving like a kid, someone half his age, and it makes me giggle. That husky rasp in his voice reminds me of the nickname I gave him when I first met him. Mr Vin-Willis… I giggle again for the millionth time today, and all memory of Jess’ asshole parents fade into insignificance.

  I’m so excited now that the awkwardness of living arrangements has
been sorted out, and I’m even more excited because I get to see my best friend in two days.

  I grab my phone and call her. No doubt there will be a lot of girlie giggles, squealing, and plans to be made during this phone call.

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been sixty days since my last drink, and we’re finally back in Jersey. I’ve been repeating this over and over in my head since I arrived home. ‘I can, and I will… watch me’. It’s been helping me, so I will continue to give myself this little pep talk, whenever I feel I need it.

  On our arrival a few days ago, I was overcome with surprises, emotions, and more surprises. Seeing Benny for the first time in forever stirred me, made me sob because I’d missed her so much, and it felt like I’d finally come home.

  Connor failed to mention he’d purchased ‘The Café With No Name’ from the previous owner who’d decided to sell up and retire, wanting a life of fishing, drinking ale at Grumpy’s, and not getting out of bed until lunchtime.

  It’s ours. The café is ours. I have staff, I’m a business woman, and boy, is that place busy. Connor also failed to tell me the last property developing he was doing was tidying up the café a little. Not too much though; he wanted to keep the old, rustic feel. He felt the kitchen needed an update, but other than that, a lick of paint here and there and we’re open again. Still watering and feeding the locals with awesome tea, coffee, cakes, and pastries.

  Connor, Raven, and a team of builders are fixing up the two houses he bought. We should be moved into ours soon; hopefully a few weeks. The other he plans to sell or rent. He hasn’t decided yet.

  I’m still sober…

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been sixty-two days since my last drink, but today, I had to grasp the bull by the horns and make my peace with Grumpy. I’d put it off for so long, until I started to feel guilty for avoiding him. I don’t know why I was so worried, even when I showed up with the money I owed him for the stolen rum, which he refused. He welcomed me with open arms, and that father figure I always knew he was, is still there.

  What an awesome guy!

  It didn’t take him long to fill my position at the bar, and although he was sad to let me go, my replacement is every bit as good as I was. He’s snapping his fingers and making her earn her wages, just like he did with me. It makes me giggle every time I think about it.

  I’m still sober…

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been sixty-three days since my last drink, and I’m happy to report Benny is halfway through completing her first novel. It’s all hush-hush, and she won’t let me read it, or even tell me what it’s about. She’s even changed the password on her laptop to stop my prying eyes… that bitch! (giggles).

  The Café With No Name is getting busier as we head into holiday season. The weather is picking up, which means tourists, which means more customers.

  I’ve been focussing all my attention on the new house, the business, and Connor so I have very little time for anything else, except sex. Great sex (giggles). The need for a drink is certainly waning, and every time the urge arises, I’m lucky enough to have so much consuming my life that the urge is quashed.

  I also have some amazing news. I’m a sponsor now. Dr. Hart has assigned a young man for me to help. He’s given my details to a guy called Tony, and I’m just waiting for his call. Any day now, and he’ll reach out.

  I’m still sober…

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been eighty-one days since my last drink, and I’m happy to report that Tony has finally made contact. It took him a while, saying he’s been trying to pluck up the courage to speak to me. I get his frustrations. It’s not easy talking to someone you hardly know about your most inner, dark notions. Yet, his resilience has shone through when it needed to, and we’re well on the way to being close friends with a common bond, who can help each other. Don’t tell Connor, but Tony has a really sexy voice. We’re not prepared to speak via Facetime just yet. Tony says he wants to stay anonymous, just a voice on the other end of the line. I’m cool with that.

  Our house is almost done. Another couple of weeks and we’ll be shacked up. We keep looking at the spare rooms, wondering what to do with them. I want a walk-in wardrobe, Connor wants a nursery. I’ve told him to hold his horses and not get carried away. Kids are on the cards, and I’ve promised we’ll try for a family when I reach being two years sober. I have a lot ahead of me before I can commit to something so huge. I have to find me before I can care for something as vulnerable as a baby. He’s patient, he understands, but that doesn’t stop him looking at nursery furniture, décor, and other baby stuff. I suppose it’s the designer in him…

  Benny and Raven are amazing. I think it’s about time he popped the question. We need a wedding soon.

  I’m still sober…

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been ninety-three days since my last drink, and I have some gossip. It’s all supposed to be kept on the quiet, but I can’t resist sharing.

  I found out from a certain lady the other day how and why a certain best friend’s parents were so quick to let that best friend lead her own life. Turns out, a certain couple were discovered at a swinger’s party, and a certain lady said she’d shout this information from the rooftops if they didn’t treat a certain best friend better. This certain couple agreed to let this certain best friend go in exchange for this certain lady’s silence.

  It’s all very cryptic I know, but if you’ve been following, you’ll get it.

  I’m still sober… I think, especially after this last blog entry. (Wink emoticon).

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been ninety-four days since my last drink, and today is shit. I hate everyone, everything, and anything. I’ve been in a bad mood all day, and I want a drink. No one will give me one, because I’m an alcoholic – apparently – and it will mean going back to square one, back to rehab, and failing. I know they’re right, but the craving is so strong. I just want a taste.

  Tony rang at the right time, and he managed to talk me round. I’m supposed to be his sponsor. Turns out, we’re a support to each other. I turned to my ever-faithful Jaffa Cakes to help me out in my time of need.

  I’m still sober… just.

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been ninety-six days since my last drink, and I’ve discovered a recipe for homemade Jaffa Cakes.

  My life is complete.

  I’m still sober… but I’ve gained so much pound-age from an overdose of Jaffa Cakes.

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been one hundred and six days since I last had a drink, and today we finally move in. I almost knocked our builder off his feet I hugged him that hard when he told us he’d finished ahead of schedule.

  Benny and Raven, as much as they kept saying they didn’t mind, are pleased we’re out of there. I could tell by the way their loud sigh was released the moment Connor and I told them. It made us laugh, but I guess you’d have to be there to appreciate it.

  We’re going out to celebrate tonight. Sexy hoes, sombreros, and sangria (virgin, of course).

  I’m still sober… ole.

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  Hello. My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been one hundred and ten days since my last drink, and I have some sad news. I found out a few days ago that my sister – Lisa –passed away. She wa
s telling the truth about the cancer, and I feel incredibly sad that she couldn’t reach out to me when she needed to.

  She died in hospital and all alone, and that makes my heart incredibly sad. She’d given instructions to one particular nurse who contacted me the day of her passing. She also asked for my address, as she had something she needed to post to me.

  It came today, and when I opened the envelope, inside was a letter and a few photographs. The letter read:

  Dear Kat,

  I’m sorry for all the wrong I’ve done, all the pain I’ve caused you, and the guilt you’ve endured for all this time. It was never your fault. It wasn’t my fault. It was a terrible accident. That’s it, plain and simple.

  I really hope you and Connor will be eternally happy. You were meant for each other.

  All my love.

  Lisa xx

  I can tell you without doubt that it brought a tear to my eye, and reading her words, saying that she finally realised neither one of us was at fault, I forgave her in that moment. I just hope that, wherever she is, she’s at peace.

  I really wish things could’ve been different between us, but it is what it is, and it’s another hurdle for me to jump.

  When I pulled out the photographs, I realised she’d been holding onto the only mementos she had of our parents. I have my necklace, she had the pictures, and in them, we all look incredibly happy. Mum, Dad, Lisa, and me. Each photo is of all of us, all smiling. They’re now safely tucked up in my ornate walnut box with that precious necklace.

  I’m still sober… but grieving, yet again.

  Bye for now.

  Kat xx

  My name is Kat, and I’m an alcoholic…

  It’s been one hundred and seventy days since my last drink, and it’s been a horrible few months coming to terms with another death. I’ve had my fair share, and I don’t plan on attending any more funerals anytime soon. I can only apologise for not posting sooner, but it’s been crazy here. I won’t lie, I’ve wanted to drink. I’ve almost succumbed to temptation, but I’m still fighting the good fight with all my might. (Turns out I’m a poet now).