EPISODE ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-NINE
Mike stared worriedly
at Maggie as she lay supine on the sofa in her living room. He slurped noisily from a steaming mug of
coffee, hoping it was loud enough to bring her out of her inebriated slumber.
Two hours ago he had dropped the children off at her parents’ house, and felt
obliged to tell them the reason. Her father had frowned worriedly but didn’t
seem surprised, and Mike promised he would try to at least get her to cut down
drastically on her alcohol intake. Her
parents said they would look after the children and run them to school the
following morning. Then Mike had taken a
taxi to the wine bar to collect Maggie.
She had sworn loudly and obscenely as he dragged her in full view of the
customers across the wine bar. At first
the taxi driver refused to take her, and then Mike told him she had already
thrown up, was over the worst of it, and clinched it with the promise of a
double fare.
Now, as he sat and stared at her, he pondered their future. He was having serious doubts about what he
had got himself into. Now the view
looking back was suddenly so much sweeter.
He began to think the better option might have been to talk Claire out
of her devotion to Scientology, an easier bet than trying to convert a serious
alcoholic.
Suddenly Maggie turned her head, and her eyes opened and focused on Mike.
‘Maggie,’ he said, ‘I’ll make you a
coffee, if you feel up to it.’
With a great effort, she pulled herself up to a sitting position, grabbed at a
cushion, scowled at it and hurled it onto the floor.
‘We need to talk,’ Mike added.
She stared at Mike, as if he’d said something deeply insulting. ‘What about?’
‘About your drinking.’
She laughed humourlessly. ‘My
drinking! I like that. It’s you who drinks too much. You’re an alcoholic. I’ve never known such
a...’ She struggled to form a sentence
and waved an arm loosely in his direction.
‘You’re the one who’s banned from driving. I’m not.
I’ve still got my license. Because I just enjoy a quiet drink in the
evening. It’s you who goes out all the
time and gets rat-arsed.’
‘Listen, Maggie...’ Mike began urgently.
‘No, you listen,’ she shouted. ‘I can
drive my car. You can’t. And that’s what it boils down to. Because you’re a piss-artist and I’ve still
got my license.’
He realised it was useless to argue with her.
She was projecting her own problems onto him. It was irrational behaviour and it was
pointless arguing with an alcoholic who wasn’t willing to accept there was a
problem. Suddenly an idea struck him. It was cruel, but in the circumstances he
didn’t care as long as it got a result.
‘Maggie,’ he said, ‘you went out in the car today.’
‘So!’ she sneered. ‘I can drive. I’ve got a license.’
‘You went out in the car,’ he continued.
‘Do you remember where you parked it?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Okay then. Where is it?’
She waved an uncoordinated arm about.
‘It’s...it’s...I don’t bloody well know!’
‘Do you remember picking the kids up from school?’ Mike watched as doubt swept across her face
like an eclipse. ‘You almost killed them
Maggie. They were so scared, they got
out at the traffic lights to get away from you.
Then they phoned me to come and get them. And I’ve taken them round to your parents’. You
were driving so erratically Hannah was screaming and crying. You might have killed them. And you don’t remember, do you? Don’t
remember almost killing your children?
Well, do you? And if I asked you
to take me to where you abandoned the car, could you do that, Maggie? Well, could you?’
She stared at him, fear in her eyes, and he almost regretted having lied to
her. He saw tears trickle out of her
eyes, as if a tap had been turned on, and she began shivering and shaking. He put down his mug and went and sat next to
her on the sofa. She shook and sobbed in
his arms as he comforted her.
‘Maggie,’ he said gently. ‘Promise me it
won’t happen again. That you won’t drink
like this. We’ll both do something about
it. Together. We’ll get help.’
He felt her head nodding on his chest.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll both get some
help, Mike. But that’s tomorrow. And at least the kids are safe and sound at
Mum and Dad’s. So why don’t we just have
one little night cap? Just one. The last one.
I promise. Just for tonight.’
IN EPISODE 130
Nigel starts a campaign.