**The Return**
I climbed the narrow stairs into the courtyard. In the basement of the block of flats was the electronics repair shop where Id worked the last two months. The sky was grey and heavy, but no rain fell. Warm for October. It was already getting dark, though it was only five in the evening.
I didnt own a car, and only took the bus in bad weather. I shrugged and walked out of the yard. Once, Id been an IT specialist with a decent salary and a family. But after a string of absurd, tragic events, I lost them boththen took to drinking, lost my job An old university mate took me on in his shop, fixing computers.
I drank. Showed up late. Sometimes didnt show at all. Today, Simon said that even though I was a natural, better drunk than most sober, his patience wasnt infinite. If I kept it up, hed have to let me go. I knew I was spiralling, hitting rock bottom. And it scared me. If Simon kicked me out, where would I go?
The streetlights flickered on as the evening darkened fast. My body screamed for a drink, my jaw clenched with the craving. Passing cafés, shops, and pubs, I kept my eyes down, hunched my shoulders, and hurried past. I could do this. I had to. Id promised Simon Id stop.
I didnt think of myself as an alcoholic, but I rarely lasted two days without a drink. Nights were the worst. Without it, sleep was impossible.
There was the little takeaway where I usually stopped on my way home. Better to nip in for a quick one than buy a whole bottle from the shop. Except I knew I wouldnt stop at one. Id bump into someone, stay until I was legless, then wake up with a pounding head, a sick belly, and shame gnawing at me. After hesitating, I walked on.
See? Id managed. Felt almost heroic. Until the next pub loomed ahead.
My building was in sight now. Just one more shop to pass. I stopped outside its bright window. Shelves of bottles in the back glowed like a lighthouse in fog, pulling me in.
My feet carried me toward the door. Halfway there, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, clenched my fists, and scurried past.
*You could still turn back*, a desperate voice whispered. I broke into a jog, gasping, only stopping when the stairwell door slammed shut behind me.
I rarely came home sober, so stepping into my bachelor hovel, I winced at the mess. The fridge was nearly emptya tin of tuna, a dry heel of bread, a rock-hard lump of cheddar. I shouldve gone shopping, picked up pasta and eggs, but that wouldve meant buying a bottle too. Fine. I wouldnt starve.
To distract myself until the shops closed, I cleaned. Tossed laundry in the machine, scrubbed dishes, wiped the sticky table, mopped the floor. Better, but the lemon-scented detergent couldnt mask the stale stench of booze and smoke.
I checked the clock. Plenty of time for a quick run to the shopcould even go in my pyjamas. Then Simons warning glare flashed in my mind. I went to the window instead.
The flats across the road glowed yellow. I imagined families gathered around kitchen tables, couples curled on sofas watching telly, kids pretending to study while listening to musicjust like I had as a teen.
A crushing loneliness gripped me so hard I nearly howled.
The washing machine beeped. I hung the laundry, drank tea with the stale cheese, but the clock still said ten minutes till closing. I could make it Instead, I called my wife.
“James, I told you not to call in the evenings.”
“Nice to hear your voice too. Let me talk to Emily.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No. Sober.”
A sigh. “Sleep it off. Dont call again. And leave Emily alone. Shes just starting to warm to David”
I wanted to say David wasnt her father, that she was mine, that I missed herbut the line went dead.
Strange she hadnt blocked my number. It gave me a fragile hope. Maybe not all was lost. Womens *no*s sometimes meant *maybe*.
I made the bed with fresh sheets and lay down, knowing sleep wouldnt come. I ached for a drink, anything to numb itbut there was nothing.
***
Id met Lisa at uni. She was a year below. One day in the canteen, she asked to skip the queue. I let her. She saved me a seat, watching me curiously. Back then, I was top of the class, the lecturers golden boy.
We started dating. I helped with her essays, even wrote her dissertation.
“Whyd you pick this degree? Shouldve done something easier. How will you work in this field?”
“Youll work. Ill raise the baby,” she laughed. Thats how I found out she was pregnant. She cooked well, kept house. I didnt mind marrying. Emily came right on time.
When she started nursery, Lisa got a job as a PA at a construction firmher basic IT skills helped. She dressed sharper, wore makeup. Sometimes Id see a car drop her off.
“I want a car,” she announced once.
So did I, but after the flat mortgage, loans swallowed my salary. No room for luxuries.
While I scraped by, my mum died. We rented out her flat. Lisa took a loan for a car. I lost it.
“James, Im tired of scrimping. I cant live like this!”
“Is there someone else?” I asked point-blank.
“Yes. Im sorry, but I have to think of Emily”
What? Like I didnt? I slammed the door. Thank God I hadnt sold Mums flat. Alone, the nights were crushing. I drank to smother the pain.
I tormented myselfimagining another man at my table, in my bed Had she ever loved me? Just used me for my brains? The drink swallowed me whole. Lost my job
***
I mustve slept. Dreamt I was lost in fog, calling for someone, voice gone. Then*James!* But Lisa only ever used my surname. I woke, heart hammering.
Took a second to remember where I was. No more sleep. Sat smoking in the kitchen. One perk of bachelor lifeLisa wouldve banished me to the landing.
Simon raised a brow at my early arrival, sniffed.
“I didnt drink,” I said. “Can I pop out at lunch?”
“Thirsty already?”
“Want to see my daughter. Before she forgets me.”
“Fine. But youll make up the time.”
I waited on a bench by the school gates. Couldnt risk getting closerdidnt want to run into David. He always looked at me like I was dirt.
No sign of his car today. Kids streamed out, but no Emily. Sick, maybe? Thena flash of pink coat. I jumped up, waving. A black SUV screeched to a halt, blocking her. My gut twisted. Whyd it stop *there*?
I sprinted around it. The rear door was openjust a glimpse of pink. A hooded guy slammed it shut. I shoved my hand in. The door crushed my fingers.
White pain shot up my arm. My vision swam.
“Daddy!” Emily shoved the door, tumbling onto me. The SUV roared off, clipping my hip.
I sat on wet tarmac, hand throbbing, heavy as cement.
“Broad daylight”
“Call the police!”
“Drunk idiots”
“Some bloke tried to take her!”
“Daddy!” Emily sobbed into my ear.
Voices sounded muffled, distant.
An ambulance took us to hospital. Emily mustve called Lisashe rushed in as I left surgery.
“Daddy!” She clung to me.
“Broken?” Lisa asked.
“Just bruised,” I said.
“Thank you. If you hadnt been there” Emily buried her face in my shoulder.
“I told Mum everything,” she whispered.
“David was supposed to pick her up. If Id known” Lisas voice cracked.
“Its fine. Shes safe.” I hugged her with my good arm. She stiffened.
“Come on. Well drive you home.”
In the backseat, Emily eyed my bandaged fingers.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not much.”
“How will you work?” Lisas worried glance flicked to me in the mirror. Id have cut the hand off to keep her looking at me like thatnot icy, like before.
At my door, I offered to collect Emily from school while I recovered.
“Well manage,” Lisa said, driving off.
But that evening, she called. “Does it still hurt?”
“You cant cook. Ill bring soup tomorrow.”
Pity? No thanks. “Dont bother. Ill cope.”
“Actually if its no trouble, could you meet Emily at noon tomorrow?”
*What about David?* I bit my tongue.
Next morning, I went to the shop instead of calling Simon. He took one look at my swollen fingers and sent me home.
I waited openly by the school gates.
“Mum and Uncle David had a huge row yesterday,” Emily chattered on the walk back. “Dad are you coming home?”
“What about Uncle David?”
“Mum kicked him out. He wasnt at a meetinghe was with his mistress. I heard. Shes not home. Come on!” She dragged me toward the flat.
First time back since the split. Same as ever, just small changes. A new kettle.
“The old one broke. Mum bought this. Glad Uncle Davids gone. I never liked him.”
Strange, sitting in my old spot, feeling like a guest.
I helped Emily with homework. Only when the front door slammed did I realise how late it was.
Lisa didnt seem surprised to see me.
“Dinner soon,” she said, vanishing into the kitchen.
We ate together, like before. Felt like coming home from a long trip.
“Homework done?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah. Dad helped.”
“I should go.” I stood. “Dinner was great.”
Lisa rose too. We hovered, avoiding each others eyes.
“Its late. You can sleep on the sofa.”
I lay rigid, terrified of waking herbut her breathing was too quiet. She wasnt asleep either.
Next morning, I woke as they left.
“Why up so early? Youre not working,” Lisa said. “Emily finishes at one. Be there.”
I mooched around, ate the toast and tea shed left, washed upwincing at the pain.
Yesterday, Id spotted Davids toothbrush. Today, only two stood in the mug: Emilys pink one and Lisas green. Had she tossed the third? Like mine, when I left.
How I wanted to stay. What if she told me to go? Should I leave first? What if she didnt? *If, if, if.* If she let me stay, Id crawl over glassno more drink, find a proper job. I *was* good at what I did.
In my jeans, I found a crumpled tenner. Bought a bunch of pale pink carnations from the corner shop.
Lisa noticed but said nothing. Didnt tell me to leave either. Small mercies. I still slept on the sofa. But that night at dinner, she started talking about workjust like old times.
“Does the new secretary still fancy the boss?” I ventured.
“No. She quit. The new girl and I get on.”
How good it felt, the three of us at the table. I realisedsince moving back in, I hadnt craved a drink. Not once.
Maybe things *could* mend. If I stayed sober, if she didnt send me away Id do anything to earn her trust again. And Id keep renting out Mums flat
