The next five weeks pass as quickly as a fast-setting African sun. Despite my cynicism, the daily session and recitation of the Twelve Steps has helped. I don’t even mind the group therapy any more. I haven’t aired all my dirty linen, but why should I? I’ve told Karlos everything and he understands without judgement, and that’s the only group therapy I need.
An autumn shower has left the air heavy with humidity. I uncross my legs and get up off the bed to push the window open to its widest. I lean my head against the burglar guards and draw in a deep breath. The air is thick with the scent of honeysuckle and the lawn has taken on a beautiful, bright post-rain green. I roll my gaze across it towards the hedge of purple hydrangeas rising proudly in the distance and giggle like a schoolgirl at the memory of the kiss Karlos and I shared behind them yesterday evening. He suggested a different place every evening for our goodnight kiss to stop Hattie and Wolf from surprising us with their spying. I smile to myself. We’re one step ahead of them every time and I’m enjoying the game. I draw in another deep breath of honeysuckle air and briefly close my eyes. All the angst and self-doubt which has haunted my mind for so long has dissipated. At last I like who I am, in fact I even have a glimmer of pride. I guess Merry Melissa has defeated the Miserable one. I’m sleeping well, probably from all the art therapy and exercise, but best of all the craving for alcohol has gone. I haven’t thought about a drink for at least a month. In fact just the thought of a glass of Chardonnay or Johnny Walker makes me feel queasy. I don’t need it any more. I don’t want to ever feel out of control like that again. I really don’t.
I look down at my watch. It’s nearly time for the late afternoon session. I wonder if Karlos will be in the lounge? Ever since I shared that terrible time of losing Dad we’ve experienced a new kind of closeness. I’ve never felt so at ease with a man. I smile as I relive our daily conspiratorial glances and little touches, as well as our stolen kisses. At least tomorrow we’ll be free to show our love to the world and no-one will be able to say anything against it. We just need to arrange where to meet. A tiny drop of fear trickles through me. Dr Brink’s agreed I’m okay to go; I just hope he’ll do the same for Karlos. I shake the fear away like an unwelcome fly. Of course he will. Why wouldn’t he?
I touch up my make-up before heading out at a fast pace to the lounge. I push open the door and click my tongue. Hattie’s sitting on a chair near the bar nursing a glass of Coke with Alison as the only other occupant. Surprisingly she’s sitting hunched in a chair near the bar instead of being hidden in her usual corner. The air is thick with stale smoke. Hattie stares at me through the haze with stony eyes. I blink away from her and head for the bay window and settle in the armchair facing away from her and Alison. I grimace as I feel her eyes burning into the back of my head. At least I’ve only got one more day of putting up with that pink monstrosity and the revolting Wolf.
The door creaks and I turn to see Karlos. He strides straight towards me and squats down by the side of my armchair. ‘It’s okay,’ he says, breaking out into a big grin. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow too.’
‘Great,’ I whisper, ‘ I was hoping it would be okay.’
Karlos nods. ‘Ja, it was just a formality really. He can see I’m good now.’ He moves his head a little closer to mine and whispers, ‘Thanks to you.’
‘I’m sure you would’ve made progress anyway,’ I whisper back, but my stomach warms with his praise.
He smiles and gives his head a shake. ‘I don’t think so …’
The scrape of a bar stool breaks through the air and we both look over at Hattie as she gets up and stubs out her cigarette.
‘Meet me outside after the session so we can arrange what to do when we’re out. Nic and Wolf are also being discharged tomorrow, Hattie too. I don’t want them around with us. I need to see you alone,’ whispers Karlos quickly as Hattie flicks back her exploding pink hair and heads in our direction. She throws us a knowing look as she saunters past.
I wait until she’s out the door before asking, ‘Of course. Where?’
‘By the Milkwood tree,’ says Karlos, giving my hand a squeeze.
Leather squeaks as Alison squirms in her armchair and draws her knees up to her chest, hugging them with thin arms. She rests her chin on her upturned knees and peers from Karlos to me with narrow eyes. Karlos and I raise our eyebrows at each other. ‘She’s a strange one,’ I whisper, ‘but I feel sorry for her. I guess she’s staying for a third round of treatment.’
‘Ja, probably George, too,’ says Karlos, giving Alison an irritated glance. ‘I’m sick of her staring at us …’
‘Me too, but I think it’s because she fancies you …’
‘Agh, she just irritates me.’
‘I can see that.’
The door opens and Karlos quickly straightens and steps away from me. Helen stands framed in the doorway.
‘You okay you two? I think Dr Brink’s waiting …’
‘Just going, Helen,’ says Karlos, moving towards the door.
‘This is your last afternoon session, make the most of it,’ she says as he saunters past. Helen looks at me with set eyes while I move in silence for the door, trying to avoid her gaze. It’s obvious she suspects something, but who cares. They can stick their ‘no relationship rule’ and all the other ones that go with it tomorrow. One more session then … freedom. These last six weeks have certainly been quite a ride.
***
‘These are hand-outs which will help you keep on the sober track. The first danger sign is a dip in confidence. If you don’t nip that, it will trigger the pattern of denial, followed by over-confidence in your sobriety and judging of others. It’s vital you keep up regular visits to us,’ says Dr Brink as we sit dutifully in our circle around him.
I stare down at the thirty-seven points. Thirty-six is controlled drinking which leads to uncontrolled drinking because for us alcoholics, of course, there’s no such thing. I grimace. So much for my freedom. It really is a lifelong sentence.
‘This is depressing,’ I whisper to Karlos.
‘Ja, but at least we’re in it together. We’ll keep each other strong.’
I smile. A delicious warmth spreads through my body. He’s right. At least we understand each other: we’ve both been in the pit of shame; we don’t need to feel frightened as long as we’re together.
‘Ultimately, it’s up to you.’ Dr Brink looks at each of us in turn. ‘It’s your journey and your choice. You’ve all learned where the path of substance abuse leads to. For your own sakes, every day, every minute if you have to, you must urge yourself to stay sober if you want a future.’
The room falls silent. Hattie’s pink head is downcast, her knuckles white around the hand-out. For the first time I feel pity for her. Alcohol’s a hard thing to beat, but heroin must be hell. Alison has made the session but remains still and silent in her chair; her face moth-white. Poor girl, I wonder if she’ll ever be ready to leave? She glares at me constantly, but I don’t take offence. Nic’s jaw is clenched while Wolf’s brow is pulled together in an angry frown. I guess none of us wants to hear this eternal truth.
‘Lean on your Higher Power; don’t try and do it on your own strength.’ Dr Brink’s voice is soft with compassion. ‘This is a chart which will show you how you can start building up a problem again if you’re not careful. It outlines danger signs to look out for. Put it on your fridge, your cupboard, anywhere you’ll see it often, so you don’t forget.’
I swallow. Oh the joys! No doubt the craving demon is going to be back to attack me. This is going to be a long, hard road.
Wolf throws his head back and lets out a dry laugh. ‘At least this is better than that Addington rehab. They treated me for Valium addiction and then gave me a fooking Valium prescription when I left. That stuff is bad … it drove me mal.’
‘Mad fuckers,’ says Nic.
Dr Brink lifts his eyebrows but says nothing.
‘Ja, it’s like them giving you Methadone to get off the fucking H-man. It’s doesn’t help. You’re still an addict; can’t they see that?’ She pulls back her top lip like a snarling pit-bull. ‘There’s only one way – and that’s to stay the fuck away. It’s the same with the booze, man.’
Dr Brink nods. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is and that’s why you do need to keep an eye on your chart. Now, I want you to fill in this questionnaire. It’s got some scenarios you might encounter on the outside and how to combat them. Once you’ve filled them in you can go. Keep them with you so you can read through them anytime you feel the temptation’s getting too much.’ He pauses and looks at us with eyes filled with kindness.
‘Well, Hattie at last you’re ready for discharge and you too, Karlos. Well done both of you for staying the course twice. I think it was a wise decision.’
Hattie smirks with the praise, while Karlos gives a small nod of appreciation.
‘Ja, I’ve told the H-man to fuck off at last.’ Hattie lets out a crude laugh and winks at Wolf.
‘Ja, well done you,’ says Wolf, putting his rancid arm around her.
‘Yes, Hattie, but the test is now to keep him away, and the best way for that is to make sure you attend the weekly classes.’ He surveys the rest of us with a serious expression. ‘That applies to all of you. I’m very proud of each one of you and it’s just going to be an au revoir from me rather than a goodbye. I’ll look forward to seeing you all every Tuesday evening 7.30 pm sharp.’ He smiles and turns to George and Alison. ‘Don’t worry you two, I’m sure before you know it you’ll also be ready to leave. We’ve got some new patients arriving later, but I think we’ll keep you two together on a separate course so that you can both get more intensive treatment.’
Alison stares at him, but George shuffles his feet quickly and mumbles, ‘Thank you.’
Dr Brink walks over to George and bends down. ‘Have you had your Trithapon this morning?’ he whispers. ‘You look a little agitated.’ George nods and his cheeks turn pink.
I read through the questionnaire and can’t help scowling. It makes us sound like outsiders, as if the world out there is so different from us. People out there drink just as much – they’ve just been lucky enough not to lose control, that’s all.
I fill it in quickly with my head full of Karlos, rather than the questions, and tuck it into my pocket before standing up and giving Dr Brink a smile. ‘Thank you, Dr Brink, I appreciate all your help.’
‘My pleasure. I’m thrilled with how much progress you’ve made, Melissa. I’m sure you’ll cope well as long as you keep to the weekly classes.’
I suppress my irritation at the continual reminder. ‘Of course,’ I mutter. ‘I think I’ll just go sit in the garden for a bit before supper.’
‘Good idea,’ says Dr Brink. ‘It’s a lovely evening.’
Karlos glances up as I walk past. ‘See you just now,’ he whispers, scribbling away at the paper without even looking at it. I nod conspiratorially.
I slip off my sandals as soon as I reach the garden to let the grass creep up deliciously between my toes. I smile as it tickles and head for the shade to lie back on the soft, warm grass. I close my eyes while the last bit of sun dances with the clouds, sending a pattern of light, dark, light, dark, light again across my closed eyelids – like my life. As I take in a deep breath the air passes easily into my belly, not like before when the only way I could breathe was in short, shallow pants which left me in a state of perpetual tension.
My body’s alive with sexual craving as I wait for Karlos. I can’t stop thinking about him, dreaming about him, wanting to rip his clothes off. I bet he’s really good in bed, takes control, knows just how to please, unlike Mike who was always more concerned with pleasing himself and showing off his pathetic phallic trophy, which was nothing to write home about. What a relief to have met someone decent at long last, someone who really likes me for me, who’s looked into the shame of my soul and still wanted me because he’d also been there, done it, bought the million T-shirts. That’s where Helen and Dr Brink are wrong. You do need someone who’s also hit rock-bottom; no-one else can understand. I breathe in the memory of Karlos’ musty scent strong in my nose.
The scent grows stronger. My eyes flick open. Karlos eases down next to me and bends his head. ‘Liss, I’m not going to play games,’ he whispers hoarsely. ‘I really need to be with you when we leave.’ His body is taut and his chest moves up and down with short breaths.
I press my lips together to try and control the smile of triumph which wants to march across my face. I knew it was a given we’d see each other, but I’ve been waiting for him to verbalise it. ‘I want to see you too. Where’re you going to stay?’
‘Phew,’ says Karlos, wiping a hand down his cheek, ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘Agh, I don’t have a place yet, but it’s alright. I’ll probably find a room somewhere. I just need to see you, that’s all.’
I place my hand on his arm and feel him shiver. I love the fact he’s so open and honest. He’s right. Why waste time? It’s not everyone who’s lucky enough to meet someone they just know is right. Why play games? I keep my hand resting on his arm and give it a small squeeze. ‘You could stay with me? I’ve got plenty of room in my place.’
He looks at me with narrow, glittering eyes. ‘You sure?’
I nod. ‘Of course. I’ve got a three-bedroomed house.’
‘Thank you,’ says Karlos, letting out a sigh of relief. ‘I won’t expect to stay for nothing. I’ll help pay the rent.’
I give him a smile. ‘It’s okay. I own it, courtesy of my Dad.’
‘You sure?’
I laugh. ‘Of course I’m sure.’ I take his hand and give it a squeeze. ‘It’s okay. I’ve got enough money for both of us for a while. I know you’ve had a hard time …’
‘I’ll try and help. I promise …’
I place my fingers against his lips. ‘I told you, it’s okay.’
‘Ahrrh,’ he groans, taking both my hands in his and squeezing them so I flinch. ‘We must go in otherwise I will take you right here in the hydrangeas.’
I giggle like a naughty schoolgirl and take my hands away to smooth down my hair and pick out the bits of grass which have lodged in it. ‘Better not go in together. You go in first.’
Karlos winks at me and gets up to stride nonchalantly back towards the building with his hands in his pockets. I look down at my watch and give him a minute before stepping lightly back across the grass. It feels as if I’m walking on marshmallows.
Nic gets up as I enter the lounge. ‘Lissa, can I talk to you?’
‘Sure.’ I shrug my shoulders.
Nic looks down at the pine wood floor. ‘I don’t want to interfere and I know I’ve irritated you somewhat.’ He clears his throat. I see a faint pink blush wash over him like sudden rosacea, highlighting the thin network of capillaries on his cheeks. ‘I just wanted to say I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get involved with Karlos.’
Anger tightens my chest. ‘It’s none of your business,’ I snap.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just … it’s going to be hard out there.’
‘What’s your case? Are you trying to say Karlos doesn’t have genuine feelings for me? Actually, if you must know he’s the most genuine person I’ve met; all the other men in my life have been fickle, good-looking bastards like you who’ve just fucked me over.’ I vomit out the words in a voice full of bile and bitterness, but I don’t care. He’s got no right to try and keep me and Karlos apart.
Nic retreats as if from a spitting cobra. ‘I’m sorry that’s what you think and I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. I just wanted to say be careful.’ He pauses and stares at me for a few seconds before muttering, ‘I wish you all the luck in the world.’
He turns abruptly and exits the room with heavy steps. I stand tense and panting as the door bangs shut behind him. Maybe that was a bit harsh of me. He looked really hurt. I must sound like a complete bitch. Perhaps I’ve misjudged him? Still, who’s he to judge Karlos? He doesn’t even really know him. Karlos is a far better judge of character than him.