I hadn’t realised quite how much I had drunk until I felt the light weight of what remained in the bottle. I tipped it fully upside down, watching the last of the rich, red poison drip into my glass. I hadn’t had anything to drink since Teigan had disappeared, too numb to think about further deadening my senses. But in the wake of Steph’s sudden arrival, I needed something to calm my jitters.
I glanced at the clock. Eleven in the morning. So what if I’d gotten through an entire bottle of Merlot already? I couldn’t feel anything except guilt and grief. It had been nearly a week since I’d seen my daughter, the longest I’d ever been separated from her.
A chill set in as I realised I didn’t even know if she was alive. I sat there, paralysed by the thought, wondering how it was possible to live with this sort of pain long-term. My heart was only still beating because of the hope that she would be found. If DS Clarke turned up and told me that Teigan was never coming back, my heart would stop beating there and then. And a blessing it would be.
I took a final gulp, the thick, foggy numbness spreading through my limbs. I’d been grateful when Steph had taken the hint that I needed at least a couple of hours to myself. Thankfully, she had an old friend from school who still lived locally, so she’d made plans to grab a coffee with her. She could turn back up at any moment. I grimaced as I thought about the speech I’d get on her return. Funny, the way things had turned around. If someone had told me my little sister would be lecturing me about healthy attitudes and staying in control, I’d have laughed in their face.
A green flash grabbed my attention. It was my mobile phone, which was continuously flashing message notifications at me.
Sorry to hear what’s happened. Here for you. X
Sending you lots of love and please let me know if there’s anything we can do.
Hilary told us in team meeting this morning. How awful. I can’t begin to imagine the pain you’re in. Please know I’m here for you through this. Xx
Most of them were from my colleagues, the people who I spent most of my time with. I didn’t have many friends outside work, as there just wasn’t time. Despite the warm feeling it sent through me that they cared, I couldn’t bring myself to reply. If they knew I’d spent my final moments with Teigan arguing, they wouldn’t be so sympathetic.
The house was deadly quiet. Perhaps a distraction would be good. I leaned across and picked it up, turning the Sky Box on.
Comedy Central came on, playing the standard replays of Friends episodes. I knew who had been watching the television last. Teigan was obsessed with Friends — she must have seen every episode at least ten times. I had seen most of them, too, through her excessive watching. This was the episode where Chandler is planning to propose to Monica, so he tricks her into thinking he would never propose, so as to make it a surprise. As I watched, I remembered how the episode plays out. All looks like it is lost for a while, when Monica disappears and her ex-boyfriend also proposes, but in the end, the friends come to the rescue and tell her what is going on. She ends up proposing to Chandler in a room full of beautiful candles. The perfect ending.
I crushed the empty wine-glass between my fingers, the blood from the cuts on my hand merging with the last drops of the wine. I didn’t get up, but stayed where I was until I saw that perfect ending of the Friends episode. I needed to see it, the potential light at the end of the tunnel. The scrap of hope I was clinging on to. By the time the show finished, I couldn’t tell the stains of the two red liquids apart. I staggered up and walked through to the kitchen, wondering how much blood I had on my hands.