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Authors: Angela Marsons

The Middle Child (18 page)

BOOK: The Middle Child
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     She had made a massive commitment without possibly realising it and in allowing Catherine to be a part of it she was opening herself up once more to have faith and trust in her sister again.  And if Catherine didn’t turn up it would seem to Alex that she had been abandoned all over again. 

     Catherine took a deep breath, her mind made up.  "I’m sorry, Mr Leigh, but this project and this company is just going to have to manage without me."

Chapter 16 – Alex

 

     Alex hopped from one foot to the other giving each sole equal time against the recently formed ice on the ground.  The snow had fallen intermittently all day and had now hardened against the freezing temperature.  She rubbed her hands against each other and then bunched them up and pulled the sleeves of her fleece down to cover them.

     She strained to see the clock, barely lit in the newsagents darkened window.  She could just make out that both hands were reaching towards the seven.  Catherine was late.  She should have known.  Catherine had probably decided to stand her up and leave her to face it alone.  She tried to hang on to the anger that felt so familiar that it warmed her but a voice, a voice that sounded like Beth told her not to be so stupid, that Catherine was not going to let her down again.

     She backed into a doorway as an icy wind surged past her whole body.  The fleece was little protection but her bare face became numbed against the icy breath.

     As the time ticked by she began thinking of reasons not to go to the meeting.  Not least because all she wanted to do was buy a bottle of Vodka and curl up in bed. 

     The worst thing she had discovered during her period of sobriety was the clarity.  Thoughts, emotions and memories charged into her mind and they were so clear.  There was no alcohol to blur the edges or obscure them completely, however temporarily. 

     For years she had hidden from the memories of her past.  They had lurked there somewhere in a box covered with dust in the back of the attic space of her mind.  Occasionally her mind’s eye had happened upon the dusty cardboard container but she had always managed to avert the gaze somehow with distractions of drink, Jay, Nikki.  But as her other crutches had fallen away she had been left with only one mind-numbing, pain-releasing friend.  And she had made the most of their time together.

     Intertwined with her memories of the past were the more recent images of the night she’d been beaten.  The pictures invoked feelings of pain, despair, loneliness and disgust.  These were the memories that she wished to dissolve with alcohol.  Not only because they were the most recent but because they were symbolic of the way she’d been feeling as long as she could remember.

     A silver BMW pulled up and Alex was relieved to see Catherine beckoning to her.  Soul-searching was definitely better done in small quantities, preferably with a drink of something in your hand, Alex decided.

    
"Took your time, didn’t you?"

    
"Why the hell haven’t you got a coat yet?" Catherine said, surveying Alex’s fleece jumper.

    
"I’ll get one when I can afford one."

    
"For Christ sake, let me give you the money…"

    
"I said when
I
can afford one."

    
"Damn your blasted independence."

    
"Yeah, it’s nice to see you too."

    
"Buckle up," Catherine instructed as she pulled away from the kerb.

     Alex stole a quick look at her sister’s profile in the darkness.  Her face looked pinched and tight as though her cheek bones were bursting out of her skin.

     "Fucking idiot," Catherine cried out as she was forced to brake hard at a set of traffic lights.

    
"You had plenty of time to stop."  Alex had seen the car in front gently braking to a stop behind a line of traffic.  "Have you spoken to Beth today?"

    
"No.  We spoke yesterday."

    
"And?"

    
"And what?"

    
"For Christ sake, stop the car and let me walk."

    
"What?" Catherine looked genuinely perplexed.

    
"If you hadn’t noticed I’m trying to have a bloody conversation with you but all I’m getting back are one-word robotic answers.  If you don’t want to be here, let me out of the car and I can do this on my own.  I don’t need you, you know."

    
"I know, Alex, and I’m sorry.  Surprisingly she sounded okay.  She’s done a spring clean of the house and plans to get some decorations and a tree over the next few days."

     Alex shuddered.  She hated to think of her sister still living in that house. 
"I wish she’d just sell that place and move on."

    
"I broached the subject with her again but she completely evaded it.  She said that the house means too much to her to leave."

    
"Is she really okay?" Alex asked.  A small part of her ached for the life that Beth had lived.  Her own had been no bed of roses but at least she had escaped.

    
"It’s hard to tell.  Since that night she’s pretty much refused to speak about our mother and the memories she now has.  I’ve tried a few times but there’s always an urgent task that needs her attention.  I’ve gently advised her to try talking to someone but she simply doesn’t see why.  All she says is that the past is gone and it’s only the future that matters."

    
"It just doesn’t feel right.  Maybe there’s more we should be doing."

    
"There’s no more that we can do.  We have to trust in her way of handling it.  If we push too hard it might be the worst thing for her."

     Alex knew that Catherine was right.  Neither of them were therapists or counsellors and they could only be there if Beth needed them.  But somehow Alex doubted that that would ever happen.  Beth had never needed anyone.  She had always kept her own pain bottled up inside.

    "So, you’re going to sit out here and wait for me," Alex asked, as they turned into the street.  She wanted to be sure that she’d understood Catherine correctly.

     Her sister nodded.

     "Don’t you need to get back to your high-flying career?"

     Catherine snorted. 
"No, that’s really no longer a problem."

     Alex detected a trace of fatigue in Catherine’s voice. 
"Oh well, suit yourself."

     Catherine parked the car. 
"Wait a minute," she said, as she turned off the ignition.  "I’m risking life, limb and a thoroughly abusive ear-bashing but I want you to know that I’m proud of you.  What you’re about to do is far from easy but I’ve got faith in you to see it through."

     Alex stared down at her hands in her lap.  A hundred vicious retorts sprang to her lips and just waited to be bounced into the space that separated them but none did.  She simply undid her seatbelt and said nothing.

     As she got out of the car Alex caught a glimpse of a cardboard box and it’s contents spilling out onto the back seat.  There were files and a couple of photographs.  Alex instantly knew that Catherine had left her job and had the unmistakable sense that it somehow had something to do with her.  She made a mental note to ask her about it later.

     She approached the blue door to the side of the Chinese take away and hesitated.  Perhaps she could escape under the cloak of darkness but as she turned she saw Catherine’s watchful eye gazing at her through the drivers side window.

     Beyond the blue door were bare wooden steps that led up and out of a mauve coloured hallway.  The sound of her boots echoed around the building.  At the top of the stairs one door was marked ‘keep out’ and the other was slightly ajar.  Alex took her chances and pushed open the one to her right.

     She quickly counted about eight people standing around.  Some in pairs and a couple standing singly and looking as uncomfortable as she felt.  Was it their first night also?

     A woman clad in Marks and Spencer's clothes approached her with a welcoming smile.  "Hello, I’m Eleanor and we’re about to start."

     Alex nodded as people began to take their seats.  She wondered if there was any sort of hierarchy denoting where one sat at these things.

     While Eleanor gave a quick chat on the format of the meeting Alex did a quick appraisal and tried to fit these people into the boxes she perceived as their lives.  She always made up stories about people’s lives and invariably they were better than her own.

    
"So, I’ll start.  My name is Eleanor and I’ve been sober for three years and two months."  Applause rippled around the group.  Alex sighed inside.  This was turning out to be like every b-movie that she’d ever seen.  She had a strong instinct to launch herself from the chair and aim for the doorway before anyone could stop her.  But then she thought of Catherine, sitting in the car, waiting for her and she knew she couldn’t.

     All too soon it was her turn. 
"My name’s Alex and I’m gonna be sober for the next hour or so."

     Her attempt at humour was met with blank stares and a couple of disapproving glances.  She quickly realised that this was no place for humour.  She cast her eyes down to avoid the chastisement of the group.  I’ll just get through this meeting, she promised herself, so that she would have something to tell Catherine and then she would never darken this doorstep again. 

     As she gently clapped for other people she wondered again what she was doing in this soulless room that held no clues as to what it did for a day job.  She wasn’t like these people.  She could stop drinking whenever she wanted to.  It had never caused her a problem and if it ever did she could handle it on her own.  She could handle it.

     Eleanor stated that they would recite and discuss the Twelve Steps.  Alex had no idea what she was talking about so remained silent, willing away the minutes until she was free of these people.

     "Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable."

     Alex heard the words and discarded them until a vision of herself lying bleeding in an alleyway returned to haunt her.  She pushed away the feelings that accompanied the memory and tried to view the event objectively.  That night she had been powerless and her life had definitely become unmanageable.  She remembered the sensation of her swollen, painful cheek resting against the cold, wet tarmac, unable to speak.  Unable to move.  The severity of the beating had paralysed her and she had prayed for help to come but if she’d had to put a name to that help she would have been found wanting.

     "Step Four: We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves."

     During the long repetitive hours in the hospital bed events of her life had passed through her mind while she tried to make sense of what had happened.  In her forced state of sobriety she had been forced to question the direction of her life.  What had gone so wrong to lead her to that point?  What sort of person had she become to find herself in that situation?  Was it a punishment for the harm she had done to all the people around her?

     "Step Eight: We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all."

     The image of Nikki flew into her mind.  Alex was honest enough to know that Nikki had been her one true chance at a better life but in her heart she knew she had never deserved it.  She had treated Nikki badly and had taken her for granted and then when she could push her no further, she had simply walked out.  She thought of Jay and the friendship they’d shared.  They had been so close until the day that he had needed her and she hadn’t even realised it.

     Her mind began to swim in torment.  She sat up straight and began to listen a little closer.

***

     Alex stared into her cup of black coffee as she stirred it distractedly.  She didn’t have the will to raise her eyes and meet Catherine’s gaze.

    
"The spoon's getting dizzy," Catherine said, with a smile in her voice.

     Alex put it down, wishing that Catherine hadn’t bothered waiting for her.  She would have preferred to be on her own.  She needed to absorb all that she’d heard in the poky dismal room across the street and the feelings that now raged within.  A lot of what she’d heard had made sense.  A little too much sense.

     "Jesus, I really am an alcoholic," she said, brokenly.

     Catherine took her hand and for once Alex made no attempt to pull away. 
"I know, sweetheart."

    
"But how did this happen?  When did I lose control?"  Alex raked her free hand through her hair.  The truth was emblazoned on her mind’s eye in aqua neon lettering.  "At what point did I cross the line?"

    
"At the point where your life became too difficult to deal with alone."

    
"But my life was fine until that bitch fucking died."

    
"No, it wasn’t.  You’ve become everything our mother said you would be."

     Alex snatched her hand away, stung. 
"Unlike you, miss high and bloody mighty.  You who has everything.  I’m so very sorry I disappointed you and ended up like this."

     Catherine grabbed her hand again.  Her eyes blazed into Alex. 
"You could never disappoint me.  You’re my sister and I love you with all of my heart.  I know you don’t believe that but I’m not going anywhere so eventually you’ll have no choice.  I’m patient and I understand how hurt you are but I wasn’t making a judgement."

BOOK: The Middle Child
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ads

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