So it was about then I began drinking more regularly. What I mean is, it wasn’t just when I went out. There were other times. Secret times.
It helped that my parents were quite heavy drinkers too. But hold on – I’m not blaming them. If there hadn’t been drink in the house I would have found some elsewhere. It’s not as though it’s difficult to get hold of. It was just that having booze in the house simplified matters. There was still loads left from the party, and Dad had been on a trip to Germany and come back with even more. I took a whole bottle of gin and no one noticed it had gone. No one said anything. I reckon Dad thought Mum had drunk it and Mum thought Dad had drunk it. There was a kind of conspiracy of alcohol in the house. If Dad complained about Mum’s drinking, she could equally complain about his.
And it was quite easy for me to go into the offie, different ones. My parents were always generous with money. They were proud to be able to give it to me, proud to be able to say that their daughter didn’t need to have a Saturday job – she was free to concentrate on her A-levels. Yes, I know that was a bit of a joke. But providing for their daughter was a big thing with them. And I had a special clothes allowance too; they put thirty quid a month in and I was supposed to buy my shoes, school clothes, stuff like that out of it.
More of a problem was disposing of the bottles. Sometimes I wrapped them up in old supermarket carrier bags and put them in the wheelie bin. Or I’d take them to school and throw them in bins on the way. When I couldn’t be bothered – if I was too pissed at night – I put cans in an old rucksack I had and hid it in my wardrobe.
I’d drink beer, but mainly I liked spirits because you could hide them in things and disguise the taste. I kept a bottle of Coke in my bedroom. So some nights I would go to bed early and have something to drink. I’d bought some good music around that time – Queen Latifah. You’ve not heard of her? She’s wicked. I just listened to that and the drink cheered me up.
Or another thing I would do – not every day, though – would be to pour some vodka or gin into a vacuum flask, and take it to school. Around lunchtime I’d go to the toilets and it was easy to slip into a cubicle and have a swig before lessons. It helped me get through the day. OK, so I admit I wasn’t just drinking to have fun any more. This was a new stage. But I know you won’t judge me. What’s so terrible about having a quick drink? Other kids smoked in the toilets and they were risking being caught. I wasn’t. And it’s wrong to drink and drive – I’d never do that, not ever – but drink and go to Geography lessons – there’s no law against it. And when you think about it, there are all these businessmen who go for business lunches – my Dad’s one of them – and they drink like fish, then go back to the office and work. I’m seventeen, an adult. So why can’t I? It was a bit rank, having to drink in the toilets, but I wasn’t keen on my friends knowing. Because they’d have been all concerned and would have split on me to a teacher, saying it was for my own good, which is what people say to justify interfering in your life. It was my choice to drink. I liked it. It helped me. When I drank I formulated all these plans about how I would leave school and get a job to earn some money so I could travel. Or even that I would start working again – tomorrow. Drink does that to you – it makes you feel capable of anything.
So you won’t be surprised to hear that I dived into the toilets and had a mega-swig of vodka before the time my parents came in for the Meeting – them, Mrs Dawes, the Head, and me. They were going to sort me out once and for all.