Kate didn’t stop running until she was on the bus. She didn’t even know where the bus was headed. Muffled by the hiss of air brakes came Ben’s shouts in pursuit.
With chest heaving and heart pounding in her ears, she clung to the grab rail and willed the bus to pull away before he reached it. With a jerk, they set off. People turned to stare as Ben banged on the side of the bus.
The driver looked at Kate in his mirror. ‘Friend of yours, love?’
Kate shook her head. ‘Don’t stop, please.’
The driver nodded and pulled into the Bristol traffic. ‘You best go sit down,’ he said.
Kate tripped up the steps onto the upper level, legs weak, and swung into the nearest seat. She looked out of the window at the traffic down below.
Ben stood by the roadside, arms clasped behind his head in a helpless gesture, his stance that of desolation.
Kate spun round to face the front again. She couldn’t watch, couldn’t bear to look at him.
She held her face in her hands and closed her eyes. Had that really happened? It felt too surreal for it to be true. Ben, an alcoholic? But he didn’t even drink – Kate mentally kicked herself. It made sense now. But she’d never even contemplated it. Lots of jockeys avoided alcohol. They were athletes, after all. And not everyone who abstained from drinking was a recovering alcoholic. She was a prime example, and, without really thinking about it, she’d just presumed he was the same.
‘How could I not tell?’ she said aloud. Her own mother was an alcoholic, she should’ve been able to spot the clues. Kate jerked in her seat and spun around. ‘Oh God. Mum.’
But St Paul’s Community Centre was already out of sight and she sunk back down again. So ashamed of herself for deserting her mother in such spectacular fashion, she wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner and be left to die alone. She prayed that she hadn’t disrupted her mother’s path to recovery.
Anger overcame her and she bit into her fist. If she had, then it would be Ben’s fault. How could he do this to her? The betrayal, the mockery he’d made of her, the breach of trust when he knew how she struggled with her mother’s addiction. It was unforgivable.
*
The knock on the door Kate had been expecting came a couple of hours after she’d got home. She sat in her chair in the lounge, back rigid, fingers tapping on the armrests. She didn’t know if she could answer the door. Not should, but could. She didn’t know how she’d react to seeing his face. It was a toss-up between sobbing and going mental with rage.
The knock came again, making her start. She felt juvenile for ignoring him, they’d have to confront one another at some stage, but did it really need to happen so soon? When her emotions were so fresh?
There was another insistent knock then the scuffling of the letter box being opened.
‘Kate?’
Ben’s voice came loud and clear into the house, making her tremble even more. She held her breath and tried to be as still as possible.
‘Kate. Come on, I know you’re in there,’ came Ben’s voice again. ‘I just want to talk.’
‘Well, I don’t, so go away!’
‘Let me in, please. Let me explain.’
Kate couldn’t bear it any more. She jumped out of her seat and strode through to fling open the front door. She opened her mouth to rebuke him, but, noticing the number of people around, thought better. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. She slammed the door then turned to face him, arms folded. ‘Okay, then. Explain.’
Ben looked astonished by his abrupt entrance and stood, speechless, for a moment. ‘Um, okay. Right. Well, let me start by saying sorry. I had no idea you were there. It was the worst possible way for you to find out.’
‘What, that you’re an alcoholic?’ Even saying the words felt foreign. It was too much to get her head around.
‘Yes,’ he replied quietly. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for six years now though. It’s not a problem like you think it is.’
‘But you still go to AA meetings. What does that tell me other than it’s still a problem?’
‘Well, yes. But going to meetings helps me manage it, to make it less of a problem. That’s what they’re there for.’
Kate shook her head in disbelief then turned on her heel and walked back into the lounge. She couldn’t stand in such close proximity to him in the hall. ‘I don’t understand, Ben. I thought I knew you. How can you be an alcoholic?’
Ben followed her through. ‘I wanted to tell you, believe me. But I’d seen the damage your mother’s alcoholism has caused you. How could I tell you “Oh, by the way, I’m also an alkie?” That would’ve been the end of us.’ He took her arm and turned her to face him. ‘That day I bumped into you and your mum in Bristol?’ he said. ‘I’d just come from a meeting with the person I sponsor. And when you told me about your mum’s problems, I so wanted to tell you, to show you I understood, to be there for you.’
‘So you were just going to keep on lying to me?’
‘I would’ve told you. When the time was right.’
‘When? When we’re six months in? A year? When we’re in so deep that you reckon I can’t get out?’
Ben pulled a face. ‘Not when you put it like that. But yes, I was waiting until such a time that you knew me well enough to know that this isn’t going to change things.’
‘Except when you fall off the wagon. Things’d change pretty damn sharpish then, wouldn’t they?’
‘I’m not going to fall off the wagon,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I promise.’
‘How can you make such a promise? What about when times get really tough? When something beyond your control happens—’ She stopped herself as she realised such an event had already happened. ‘You liar,’ she said. ‘You’ve already fallen off the wagon.’
‘No, I haven’t. It’s been six years—’
‘Six years, my arse!’ Kate exclaimed. ‘The night Jerry died, the night that we – there was a bottle of something sitting on your kitchen counter.’
Ben stopped short. He looked at Kate, his mouth slightly ajar, then he exhaled in resignation. He leaned his arms up against the wall and hung his head. ‘I didn’t drink any of it,’ he mumbled. He looked up with reproachful eyes. ‘I never opened it.’
Kate tried to recall how far down the liquor was. It had been fairly full, but she couldn’t say for certain whether or not it had been opened. ‘It doesn’t matter. You were going to. And that just proves my point. When things go wrong, you’re going to fall off.’
‘No, Kate. Don’t you see? I didn’t drink any of it because you arrived. I knew I needed a stiff one.’ He tried to lighten the atmosphere with a smile. ‘I just didn’t realise which type I’d get. You are what stopped me. That night and every night since.’
Kate shook her head and wagged a finger at him. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you dare try to make me responsible for your sobriety. I get enough of that from my own family, thank you very much.’
‘That’s not what I’m saying,’ Ben said with an impatient sigh. ‘Look, can we just sit down so I can explain things right from the start?’
Kate’s heart hardened. He thought she was a soft touch, worming his way through the door, now wanting to sit down for a cosy heart-to-heart. ‘I don’t want to hear your sob story, Ben,’ she said. ‘I think you should leave.’
For a moment they stood facing each other. Kate crossed her arms to hide her trembling hands. Ben looked at her defensive stance then nodded slowly.
‘Okay. If that’s how you want to leave things.’ He stepped back towards the door, but paused by the archway. He looked back at her, his expression bitter. ‘I thought more of you, Kate. I really did. I thought, okay, sure, maybe I have fucked it up for us, but I thought you’d be big enough to hear me out.’
Kate breathed in a lungful of courage. She couldn’t give in to him. Not this time. If she did, then he’d talk her round, and one thing would lead to another, then where would she be?
Her nerves were so strained, she felt physically sick. She caught her reflection in the mirror and flinched. Her face was pale and pinched, but what she noticed most was the tiny scar above her right eye.
She remembered in flashes, like an action film preview, how she’d got it. The fight with Val, the shame and disappointment of having just failed her A levels, the screaming and blaming, and then Val’s hand whipping round. The sting, the shock, the realisation that the wetness wasn’t just tears, Val’s horrified expression as she looked down at her fingers where her wedding and engagement rings had slid round so the stone faced inwards. Kate had left for Newmarket the same day.
Giving in to Ben meant returning to an environment that had almost destroyed her, that she’d fought so hard to leave behind. What sort of future was she setting herself up for? She couldn’t raise a family – have children – with the threat that things could turn sour at any moment, lurking in the wings.
Gathering herself for one last effort, she raised her chin and opened her eyes. She met his gaze with steel and pointed at the door. ‘Please leave.’
Ben gave one mirthless laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m going.’