July 14th
Claire never came home from work empty-handed. She always enjoyed popping to the shop after finishing her shift, picking up a small bottle of red for the evening to savour at dinner time. That evening, as she walked in, a sight met her that made her heart pound her long-term partner, Thomas, was packing his things. Have you found a job? Planning on pulling a late shift? I asked, though I saw the suitcase open on the bed.
He barely looked at me. No, Im leaving.
Where are you off to? Its ten oclock at night.
He turned and snapped, Are you deaf, or just thick? I said Im going. Im leaving you.
My knees went to jelly and I collapsed onto the chair in the hallway. Are you alright? I managed, voice barely a whisper.
Weve got two little ones, for heaven’s sake. Thomas, have you lost your mind? I gave you children. When we met you had nothing, I took you in off the high street when you were skint and down on your luck, working out the back of the petrol station. I cleaned you up, put meals before you, made you something like a proper man. While you lazed about at home, I worked, paid the bills, gave you everything
And this is how you repay me? Youd abandon your own kids?
He threw some shirts into his bag and said, Ill never leave my children, but you yes. Ive had enough of watching you come through the door clutching a bottle every night, going on some nonsense about just a treat. But Emily isnt anything like you she doesnt reek of booze, shes warm and sweet.
Youre running to Emily, then? Do you even know who she is? She skipped town, turned up here, youve no idea what shes running from. Youre daft enough to get tangled up with someone like that
He wouldnt listen, just stormed out, slamming the door so hard the coat hooks rattled. I think that broke me. I started drinking even more. Every morning I turned up to the seamstress shop bleary-eyed, hands shaking, unable to thread a needle. Days blurred into weeks. I drank every evening, sometimes forgetting to cook for the children; theyd eat whatever they had at nursery until I got myself together.
The flat became neglected. The place stank of smoke, mould grew over the pans in the kitchen, the kids ran around with dirty faces and creased clothes. One afternoon, someone from child services showed up and took the kids. They told me Id one last chance to put things right. I still had my job, still had a roof over my head. All I needed to do was sort myself out.
I begged my boss for a few days off and just lay in bed, utterly empty. But something inside me refused to reach for another drink. On the fifth day, when I realised I was actually hungry, when the very smell of alcohol made me sick, I scrubbed the flat from top to bottom and went back to work. Every spare moment at home, I threw myself into cleaning, keeping busy so I wouldnt think about opening a bottle.
Months went by. They brought the children back, but would come to check up on us weekly. I didnt slip. I didnt touch drink. My children were the only thing that mattered now. Even when I learned Thomas had proposed to Sophie, I didnt crumble even though it knotted at my heart. Id given him years, borne his children, and it had never been official between us.
Then, a few months later, Thomas reappeared with a shiner and swollen cheek. Claire, Im sorry Emily wasnt what I thought. Her husband tracked her down, turned up at my place, gave me a beating, and dragged her away like a sack of potatoes.
I just looked at him. Thomas, thank you for the children, and for the lesson. But youre not staying here. I wont let you. Please go.
Looking back, I see now that losing everything taught me what truly matters. No one can save you but yourself, and no one else should come before your children.
