Kate met her mother outside St Paul’s Community Centre at midday. Val wrung her hands as she looked up at the grey stone building.
‘Ready?’ Kate asked. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
Val didn’t answer. She looked back at the passersby. ‘Do you think they know?’ she whispered.
‘I doubt it.’ Kate placed a hand in the small of Val’s back and guided her through the gate into the small recess area.
‘Just give me a sec,’ Val said, sitting down on a bench. She looked up at Kate with anxious eyes. ‘You know, I could really do with a drink to steady my nerves,’ she said with a mirthless laugh. ‘This AA thing is a bit counterproductive.’
Kate waited, tucking her hands under her armpits to warm up. In the flowerbeds surrounding them, daffodils, swinging in the blustery wind, hinted at the start of spring. In the past, they had always acted as a type of drumroll heralding the upcoming Cheltenham Festival. In moments when she’d forget, the canary yellow blooms would catch her eye and her stomach would flip in excitement. ‘It’s here!’ they seemed to whisper. ‘It’s springtime! It’s Cheltenham time!’
A well-dressed woman in a stylish coat and leather boots smiled as she walked past and entered the building.
‘Do you think we’ve come to the right place?’ Val asked. ‘She doesn’t really look like...’
‘Maybe she’s the therapist,’ Kate suggested.
With a gulp, Val stood up and nodded. ‘Okay. I’m ready.’
*
The meeting room wasn’t exactly well sign-posted, so it took them a couple of minutes of wandering about to finally find it. Kate hadn’t realised she’d had any preconceptions of what an AA meeting consisted of, but it certainly wasn’t the poky disjointed room, no bigger than a couple of stables, that she found herself in. A middle-aged Indian man was making a welcome speech.
The well-dressed woman, sat beside the door, caught her eye and Kate took a hesitant step towards her.
‘Are we in the right place?’ she whispered. ‘We’ve – um – come for—’ She stopped. She didn’t want to blow her mother’s cover if they were in the wrong room.
‘AA?’
Kate nodded and she smiled.
‘First time?’
‘Yes. It’s not for me, exactly,’ she babbled, stepping aside to reveal her mother.
The woman smiled and patted the vacant chair beside her. ‘Take a seat, we’re just getting started.’
The room was so oddly shaped with little nooks and cupboard corners that it was difficult to tell how many people were present. Kate could see the faces of maybe five people, but the legs of at least half a dozen more.
The woman passed her and Val a couple of booklets. Kate read the opening inscription.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
She flicked through the booklet, noticing the heavy slant on religious support, and hazarded a look at her mother. God hadn’t played a particularly strong role in their lives. The only Sunday excursions they’d had were to Tesco.
‘Okay?’ she whispered.
Val looked up from her booklet with wide eyes. ‘I feel like a fraud,’ she whispered back.
Kate patted her hand. ‘Believe me, Mum. You’re not a fraud.’
The floor was opened for the members to share their stories and for a moment the room fell quiet. Just someone coughing and birdsong outside the window interrupted the silence.
Just out of sight, a chair scraped back and its owner stood up. But the person didn’t speak immediately. Kate sat forward to try catch a glimpse of whomever it was. The person took a step forward and out of the shadows. Kate stopped breathing. The person looked up.
‘Hi, I’m Ben, and I’m an alcoholic.’