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I arrive home alone. This is always when I feel worst. The knot of anxiety gradually rising from the pit of my stomach, up to my chest, until I feel like I can’t breathe.
I need something to do, something to keep me busy, but what? I wander round my home, pottering in each room, restless and fidgety.
‘Come on, get it together. What can I do? I think looking round the living room. There is plenty to do, but nothing that I feel I could actually settle to.
I leave the room and walk to the kitchen. ‘I could make myself a cup of team’ I say aloud to nobody but myself, drumming my fingers on the green, Formica worktop.
I know I am not going to have tea and head straight to the cupboard to get out my bottle. I don’t need a cup anymore, don’t need to hide the bottles. Sam isn’t coming home. Sam isn’t going to see the bottle, there isn’t going to be a row. It is coming up for a year now and it never gets any easier. I have a new life now. I drink until I need to sleep and I sleep until I need a drink.
It is all I have and all I deserve. I had everything, I had chance after chance and wasted it. I only have myself to blame. Everybody blames me. There is nobody to turn to.
Sam’s parents made it clear after the birthday party that they wanted him to leave me, that I would ruin his life. Even they didn’t expect it to end the way it did. For weeks after that last big argument we were just two people existing in the same house. I knew I was losing him and I couldn’t cope.
He was invited on a night out after work and left me in the morning telling me he was going to get the last train home and not to wait up for him. I was a mess. What if he met somebody whilst he was out? What if he realised he wanted to be on his own? I had made more promises to sort myself out, and every time I said it I meant it. I never realised how weak I was.
That night the worst paranoia crept in until as always I gave in again and after a quick visit to Bargain Booze, I renewed my acquaintance with my new life support system.
I must have fallen asleep because I remember the ringing of the phone giving me a start. It was Sam. He had missed the last train and was going to have to find somewhere to stay.
No, I couldn’t let this happen. I kept imagining him going back to some women’s house and I was nearly sick. That was when I sealed our destiny. I promised him I hadn’t had a drink and could pick him up. He wasn’t sure, but I promised and promised until he agreed. I left the house, determined to get my husband back from the forces of the night that I felt were trying to steal him away from him.
I got to him with no incident and we started our journey home with a new resolve that I was going to do whatever it took to keep my Sam. I must have been thinking about that because I didn’t realise I was on the wrong side of the road, until I saw the headlights of the truck heading towards me and heard Sam shouting.
I escaped the crash with a broken arm and a collage of minor bruising all over me. Sam never regained consciousness. He was in the coma for three weeks, until after more tests and more tearful discussions, Sam’s parents asked for all the machines to be switched off and for their son to be left to rest in peace.
I wasn’t there at the end. Tests at the hospital confirmed I was well over the drink driving limit and I was charged. I will never forget the look on Pam’s face as she told me to get out of the hospital and never go anywhere near Sam again.
I lost my licence, my liberty and ultimately the love of my life.
I pick up the bottle and take it into the bedroom of the council flat that is now my self- imposed prison, ready to drown out the images of Pam telling me to leave, the images of Sam in the hospital bed, ready to drown out another day.
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Thank you for reading my short story. I am a law graduate, mother and wife who has just started her writing journey. As well as my short stories I am currently working on two novels, based on Richard III and The Romanovs of Russia.
Connect with me online at carrienoble.wordpress.com
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