Chapter 9
Linney hoisted the gold statue over her head, as the crowd clapped enthusiastically at the annual TV awards gala banquet. She’d worn her hair up, to show off the keyhole detail of the back of her dress and now, with the spotlight on her, she was glad she had. Linney had been cautiously optimistic this year, but nothing was ever certain. She was so overwhelmed when her name was called that her knees knocked together as she stood up, and her voice wavered when she accepted her first solo award. She thanked Mac for his support and Gemma and the rest of the crew at TCN for their ongoing confidence in her. Nobody clapped louder for her than MJ did.
She held up the hem of her garnet floor-length gown—another purchase MJ had helped her make—muttering, “Don’t trip, don’t trip,” to herself under her breath as she carefully made her way down the stairs from the stage and back to their table, where MJ stood up and gave her a huge hug.
“Congratulations,” Mac said, kissing her sloppily when she slid into her seat beside him. Linney tensed. Mac was drunk. She knew conversations stopped in the newsroom when she walked by these days and she’d heard the whispers that his work was suffering. Gemma was giving him less air time too. Linney had meant to confront him in the fall, after she came back from Silver Lake, but the time never seemed right. Even though the evidence was right in front of her, she was frightened to have confirmation. So it was easier to stay silent and soldier on.
Mac was up for a production award, despite his issues, and Linney expected now that they’d go home to celebrate a pair of trophies. She laced her fingers with his and they both tensed in expectation when his category was called and he fidgeted nervously with his bow tie. To Linney’s surprise, the award went to a competitor.
“You were robbed,” she said quietly. “He didn’t deserve that.” Others at the table murmured agreement as the winner made his way to the stage, but Linney felt it was forced, as if they were just being polite.
Mac took the bottle of wine from the centre of the table morosely and filled his glass again. His hands were unsteady, and the wine spilled on the tablecloth. Linney leaped to mop it up.
“Next year, Mac,” Gemma told him tersely over the applause. “Stay the course.” She and Mac had worked together for decades, and Linney wondered if Gemma’s words held deeper meaning than they seemed to on the surface.
Mac sulked for the rest of the ceremony, draining the last of the wine from the bottle. As soon as the formalities were over, he headed to the bar, weaving his way among the tables to get there. Heady from her win, Linney was oblivious and joined MJ and others on the dance floor to celebrate. Mac watched, with a sneer on his face and a whiskey in his hand.
“She’s good, Mac,” said Gemma, as she joined him at the bar. She wasn’t ready to let this go. “She’s good. Don’t hold her back.”
“Whatd’ya mean?” he slurred.
“She’s ready to fly. Do not make it hard for her to go.”
“Gemma.”
“And I think it’s time you switched to water tonight.” A dark cloud passed over Mac’s face, but Gemma put a hand on his arm and then slipped away, as Linney joined him at the bar and asked the bartender for a soft drink. A few strands of hair had slipped from her updo and her cheeks were pink with exertion. Her eyes danced, but all Mac could see was her with an award and his hands empty. Gemma’s words rang in his ears. But Gemma wasn’t there. Linney was.
“You know,” he began, poking her in the shoulder with his finger as his frustration overtook any sense of decorum. “The only reason you got that award was because of me.” His voice rose as he tapped his own chest. “I made you. I gave you your first chance and taught you everything you know.” He turned to the bartender. “Another one.”
Linney flushed with embarrassment. “Mac, not here.”
“Why not here? It’s no secret. Everyone knows it.” He was shouting now, and his new drink spilled with his oversized gestures. “You wouldn’t have had half the opportunities if you weren’t sleeping with me. That award should be mine. You’d be nothing without me.” He threw back the whiskey and raised his glass, once again empty, signalling to the bartender to fill it again.
Silence fell over the bar and Linney’s eyes darted around, noticing that people dropped their gaze as she did so. They had all heard. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists. “Mac, let’s go home.” At least there, she would be the only audience for his biting and condescending words. She was used to that.
But he wouldn’t be quieted. “You think you’re a big shot now, don’t you, now that you have an award?” he sneered. “It doesn’t mean a thing. The whole thing’s rigged.” Linney put a hand on his arm, trying to make a connection, but he shrugged it off. “Don’t fool yourself.” He finished his drink in one swallow and slammed the glass on the bar. “And another thing. It had to go to a woman this year. That’s why you got it. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it had anything to do with talent.” Mac turned his attention to the bartender. “Gimme another.” He stumbled and only just caught himself on the bar.
People were openly staring now. MJ made her way over to Linney for support.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mac,” Linney began, squaring her shoulders against the hot tears prickling in her eyes that prevented her from continuing.
MJ picked up Linney’s statue and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. They could both hear the murmuring as they left the room.
* * *
“I’m okay, MJ.”Linney took a few deep breaths as they stood in the lobby. All she wanted was to go home. “I love him. I really do. It’s just hard when he’s like this.”
“Let me call Gemma.” As they left, MJ had seen Gemma take Mac’s arm firmly and lead him away from the crowd with a grim look. Gritting her teeth, she spoke to their boss and as she put Linney in a cab, she confirmed. “Gemma says not to worry, okay? She’s got it. You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Linney shook her head. “Thanks, MJ. You’re the best. But I need to be alone tonight.”
“Okay, but call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
Somehow, Linney held her emotions in check during the cab ride. When she closed the door to her flat behind her, she unclenched her fists and saw the fingernail marks in her palms. In her bedroom, she placed the award on her bureau and hung up her beautiful dress, and she finally let herself cry. Salty tears rolled down her face, and she sobbed as she pulled hairpins out of her updo, letting her hair tumble down her back. She put on her pajamas and splashed water on her face, but the tears kept coming. Her phone buzzed.
Hey, how’d it go? Am I now the friend of a twice-awarded journalist?
Yes, you are! I’m home now but I keep pinching myself.
Linney’s phone rang, and she climbed into bed and took a deep breath before answering quietly. “Hey.”
“Hey to you—and well done!
“Thanks. It was a magical evening. I can still hardly believe I won.” Linney paused. “Mac didn’t take it well though.”
“What do you mean?” Derek was on alert. Linney didn’t sound as excited as she should be.
“He had too much to drink and said some things he’ll regret tomorrow. I’m home now. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” She swiped her finger on her cheek where new tear had fallen.” She sniffled. There was silence on the other end of the line. “Seriously, it’ll be alright.
More silence. Linney’s training had taught her not to fill silences. People usually said what they really felt if you waited them out and if Derek had something to say, she could be patient. While she waited, Linney picked at her cuticles. The stress was getting to her.
“Why do you do that? Apologize for him. It’s not right.”
“Derek—”
“You’re upset. What did he say?”
“That I didn’t deserve it. That he made me.” Her voice hitched and eventually she continued in a quieter voice, “Maybe he’s right.”
“That bast— Linney, don’t listen to him. You are a great journalist. Is … is everything okay over there? I’m worried about you.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest. “Don’t be.”
“It’s just … Look, I don’t want to pry, but you keep talking about Mac’s drinking and it reminds me a bit of my mum. I’m worried. Are you sure you’re alright? You should be out celebrating, not at home and upset.”
Linney’s temper flared. She was tired, aggravated, and hurt, and now Derek was piling on too. “Thank you for your concern, but it’s nothing like that. And I can take care of myself.” How dare he, she fumed. He was comparing her and Mac to his mother and father. She was educated, she had a career, and she wasn’t beholden to any man. He didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Linney—”
“I’m tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Linney hung up the phone and silenced it wondering how today had gone so wrong.
* * *
The next morning,Linney pulled herself together and headed to TCN ready to take on new challenges. Her self-confidence had taken a hit, but she was an award-winning journalist now, so she needed to act like one. She’d texted Mac before she left the house and she was concerned he hadn’t replied as she sat down at her desk.
“Good morning. Gemma wants to see you,” MJ told her as she turned on her laptop.
Linney grabbed her notebook and headed upstairs. The senior offices were in a ring around the open newsroom, the mezzanine convenient for announcements to the reporters and editors working on the floor.
“You asked to see me?” Linney stood in the door of Gemma’s office.
Gemma ushered her in and closed the door. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Linney’s brow furled. Closed door? Was something wrong with her performance? Had there been a mistake? Did they want to take her award back? Had something happened to Mac? Her heart lurched.
“This is off the record,” Gemma continued, confusing Linney even more. “Human Resources would tell me I’m not allowed to talk to you about this, but I think it’s important. I think you know that I consider Mac not just a colleague, but a friend.”
Linney knew that, but didn’t quite understand where this was going. She nodded and adjusted her glasses nervously.
Gemma smiled sadly. “Linney, I’ve worked with him a long time.”
Linney listened as Gemma told her more. “It’s no secret that journalists drink. Many of them drink a lot. It’s a taxing industry, with impossible deadlines and not always the nicest people. We drink to relieve the stress. We drink to celebrate great interviews and we drink to commiserate ones that fall through. We drink to dampen the ugliness that we see in the world. We drink to quell the fears that we’re not good enough.”
Gemma stopped for a moment while Linney absorbed her words.
“There are studies about the propensity for alcoholism in our profession. It’s real, Linney.” Gemma took a sip of coffee from the TCN mug on her desk. She looked Linney directly in the eye. “Some people can manage the drinking. Some can’t. You may not know this, but Mac is probably what people sometimes call a ‘high-functioning’ alcoholic. He’s come close to the edge a couple of times before. This isn’t his first flirtation with full-blown alcoholism, but he’s always been able to pull himself back. This time? I’m not so sure.” Linney’s head started to swim and her heart pounded in her chest. She sat down suddenly. What had happened after she left the gala?
Gemma noticed her anxiety and put a hand on Linney’s shoulder. “It’s alright. I got him home last night, and I spoke with him this morning. He’s okay.”
“Thank goodness.” Linney took a few deep breaths and her heart rate slowed a bit.
Gemma leaned on her desk. “Now for some advice. You’re a rising star here at TCN. To be blunt, even if he gets healthy, Mac’s glory days are behind him. He could be a great editor. But right now he’s not even a good reporter. As your boss, I’m not going to get involved in your love life. But you need to know—I haven’t seen him this bad before.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “I’ll stand by him. We’ve walked this road before. But you’re good, Linney, and I don’t want you derailing your career over him. I think you may have a tough decision to make. And you may need to make it soon.”
Linney breathed, taking in what she’d learned. “Thank you, Gemma,” she said, standing up. “I appreciate your candour.”
“And Linney? This conversation never happened.”
Linney headed back to her desk, her head swimming as she tried to understand exactly what Gemma had been telling her. She didn’t get a lot of work done, as she wrestled with the two sides of Mac that she knew. There was the Mac who she was passionately in love with and who took her to heights she’d never experienced with anyone else. And then there was the Mac who cut her down and belittled her when he drank to the point that she didn’t believe in herself. Like Gemma said, she had a career to think about. But surely she also owed it to him to stand by him in his time of crisis. To support him. To be by his side. Didn’t she?
By mid-afternoon, Linney had convinced herself that Gemma had been exaggerating. She’d been too exuberant at her success at the gala. No wonder he had been upset. She shouldn’t have been so unfeeling about his loss. It had been her fault that he’d drunk so much. And now she had to make it right.
Hey. I’m sorry if I lorded my award over you. I didn’t mean to. Love you. ?? ??
Dinner at my place Saturday? We should talk.
It was hours before he replied.
Deal.
* * *
Nervously,Linney chopped up vegetables for the stir-fry she was cooking. Hopefully, the only tears tonight would be from the onions she’d just added to the wok. She wondered which Mac she’d get tonight. After thinking about her conversation with Gemma she was more confused than ever. She loved Mac, and she knew he loved her. They could be so good together when he wasn’t drinking. Gemma seemed to be suggesting she distance herself from Mac. But how could she do that? Linney was twisting herself into knots when she heard Mac’s keys in the lock. She smiled. Mac was here.
Mac stumbled slightly over the threshold and then dropped his keys on the kitchen passthrough before joining Linney in the kitchen and putting his hands around her waist. He reached beyond her to turn off the burner and spun her around. “I missed you. I don’t like spending nights without you.”
Linney instantly melted when he whispered in her ear, but then she smelled booze on his breath. A flag went up, but the thought flew away when he nibbled on her neck and with a hand on the small of her back, pulled her close.
“Do you suppose,” he murmured, “that dinner can wait?” His lips crushed hers hungrily and Linney felt the room spin. No matter what, Mac always had that effect on her. She reached up around his neck and before she knew it, he’d scooped her up and taken her to the bedroom.
* * *
They layside by side under the covers staring at the ceiling, not touching. Linney twisted the hem of the bedsheet in her fingers. What had gone wrong?
“I gotta go.” Mac sat up suddenly and shoved his legs into his boxer shorts. He pulled on his pants and buttoned his shirt in a rush. “You just don’t do it for me anymore,” he slurred. “You think you’re so hot. You’re just another wannabe journalist. I’m outta here.” He weaved his way out of her room and slammed the door to her flat. She heard him stumble down the stairs.
Sitting up in bed with her arms around her knees, Linney wept.
Later that evening, she put her glasses back on, got out of bed and cleaned up her kitchen. When she dumped the stir-fry into the garbage, she remembered the risotto that she’d scraped into the bin. Had this been going on that long? Just the thought of it made her feel ill. Tonight was a disaster. Linney picked at a torn cuticle while she waited for the kettle to boil. She made herself a cup of chamomile tea and curled up in her reading chair with her laptop. It was time for some research. With shaky fingers, she started to type the word “alcoholism” into the search bar when her phone buzzed. Linney slammed the computer lid shut.
There’s a great exhibit at the Tate. Want to go tomorrow?
Linney sighed. All she really wanted to do was hole up in her flat and try to figure out what to do next. But an afternoon out with MJ would be a good distraction.
Sounds great. Thanks for the invite!
The women texted back and forth for a few more minutes, deciding where and when to meet. When they finished, Linney muted her phone, left it in the living room, and drew a bath. She needed to think.
Because her phone was on silent, she missed several texts from Derek. Reading through them the next morning, Linney realized she’d been pulling away from her best friend. She just didn’t know how to talk about this problem with him.
* * *
Olivia and Derekenjoyed a rare Sunday when neither of them had work to do. They took a sunny stroll, gloved hand in gloved hand along Queen’s Quay and then stopped to warm their frozen fingers and fill their stomachs at the trendy bistro up the street from their condo. They sated themselves on the world-class brunch menu and drank mimosas. They’d been married for almost eight months and with the stress of the wedding behind them, they were deliriously happy.
The waiter brought another mimosa for Olivia, and coffee for Derek along with the bill. Derek put his credit card in the folio and then reached across the table and laced his fingers through Olivia’s. He looked deeply into her eyes and brought up what was on his mind. “I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.”
“Derek, it’s way too early!” Olivia pulled her hand from his. “I can’t afford to take time away now. I’ll look like I’m not serious about making partner. Maybe in a few more years.”
Derek was crushed. “I thought maybe we could slow down a bit. I can take fewer cases, and you could–”
“No.” Olivia cut him off. “Not now. It’s not the right time.”
Knowing he wasn’t going to win, Derek raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, not now. But I want to start talking about when is the right time. I want a family.”
Olivia nodded. “I know you do. Just not yet.”
* * *
It wasthe dreariest April Linney had experienced in London. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen the sun, and the damp cold had seeped into her bones rendering her permanently cold. London was miserable, and Linney’s mood reflected it.
She was on edge all the time now with Mac, and the state of her fingernails betrayed how stressed she was. Sure, they’d made up, and there hadn’t been any more problems in bed but Linney agonized about Mac’s drinking and felt powerless to do anything about it, watching helplessly as he changed from Jekyll to Hyde at the flip of a switch without warning. Some days she internalized what he said about her. Her research was poor. Her stories were shallow. Her scripts were trite. She looked fat on camera. She was lucky to have him. It went on and on. His words were at odds with how Gemma treated her, but somehow she believed him more. She dressed badly, she wasn’t attractive, she couldn’t cook well. He had put on weight, but he blamed her for taking his clothes to a dry cleaner that shrank them. How could she be so stupid?
Linney’s hands weren’t the only ones showing the state of things. Mac’s own hands often shook during morning story meetings, but stopped after he emerged from his office with a fresh cup of coffee. The little bit of research she’d done told Linney that the tremors meant alcohol was starting to leave his system and that when they stopped shaking, he was probably doctoring his coffee with something so there was booze in his system all the times. There was always a drink at lunch, and he was at the pub almost every night now. Linney finally started acknowledging how many empty bottles were in the recycling bin. She knew from the nights he stumbled home to her, that he wasn’t sleeping well. Nothing made him happy and how he was keeping up with work was beyond her. She couldn’t bring herself to share any of this with anyone. Not Gemma, not MJ. Not even Derek.
Linney sat at her desk, head in her hands, trying to battle through the dull throbbing behind her eyes. Dealing with Mac, on top of the stresses of the job, was hard and her head ached frequently these days. She’d had a tough week at work, putting in long hours on a story that would air tonight. She was looking forward to a quieter day tomorrow, when Gemma called her into her office and handed her a Eurostar ticket. “Go home and pack a bag. I need you in Rotterdam,” her boss said. “The port is in trouble. I want both TV and web copy from this.” Gemma was nothing, if not direct.
Adrenaline surged as Linney recognized the opportunity in front of her—her first story from Europe. “Thank you, Gemma. I’m on it.” She took the tickets and popped her head into Mac’s office before heading back to her desk to collect her purse. She waved the tickets. “I’m heading to the Netherlands,” she told him.
Mac looked up at her, unshaven and rumpled. “Grant’s your cameraman?” He grunted as she nodded and leaned back in his chair to take a sip of tea. “When do you go?”
“Now. I’m heading home to pack.” Linney pushed his door closed and walked around to the other side of his desk. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
Reaching his hand out as he stood up unsteadily, Mac pulled her close. Still holding the tickets, Linney put her arms around his neck and they shared a passionate moment. “I hate that you have to go,” he whispered in her ear. “I had plans for us tonight.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered back. “I won’t be gone long. Two nights at most. Probably just one.”
Linney smelled the alcohol on his breath—it was a constant now—but she gave Mac a quick peck on the cheek. She put that aside and headed out, excited by the assignment, but also aware that Mac might brood for a time. A few years ago, that story might have been his. She just hoped he wouldn’t pour another shot into his mug of tea.
Linney and Grant strategized on the three-and-a-half-hour train trip. Rotterdam was the biggest port city in Europe, so troubles were concerning. They worked out where Linney could do her stand-up pieces—they thought the Delft Gate would be a good backdrop—and where Grant could shoot B-roll. Linney called the contact Gemma had set her up with to confirm the interview time.
Confident they’d done everything they could, the conversation turned personal. “You know, I think he fell in love with you the first time he saw you,” Grant said, seemingly out of nowhere. Linney stared at him, wondering what the long-time TCN employee was getting at. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Linney,” he continued. “We all love Mac. But we also know—” he broke off, not sure how to approach this with her.
“Don’t worry, Grant. I’m not na?ve. I’m taking care of myself.” As she said the words, she willed herself to believe them.
“Gemma and I have seen this with him before. It could get ugly.” He swallowed hard and his cheeks coloured as he stared intently at his shoes. “Linney, he’s starting to talk about you when you’re out of the newsroom. It’s not flattering, personally or professionally. I agree with Gemma. You’re a great reporter. Don’t let your career get blown up because of Mac.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said after a moment and then they lapsed into awkward silence, her stomach churning with the new information.
The interview went well the next day at the Port Authority. Linney made everyone feel comfortable on camera and asked probing questions, based on all the research she’d read on the train and late into the night.
After the interview, they headed straight to the wharf where Linney would do her standup. Grant nodded his head approvingly as she finished. This was shaping up to be a good story. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t make the last train home that evening but booked the first one in the morning. They had an early dinner together and then went to their rooms. As Linney pushed the door open, her phone buzzed. When she saw the text from Derek, she smiled.
How’s my favourite reporter? I haven’t heard from you in ages.
So sorry. I’ve been busy.
Coming home soon?
Linney felt a sudden pang of homesickness. Maybe if she was at home, she could talk to Derek. Or maybe she could do it now. Bravely she typed:
Not soon enough. Can I ask you something?
Go for it.
Derek waited while the three dots danced.
I don’t know how to start.
Just say it.
I’m scared. You know Mac drinks a lot.
Too much. I’m not sure he’s in control anymore.
Derek took his time answering and she wondered what he was thinking.
Is he hurting you?
Not physically, anyway.
But he’s horrible to me when he drinks. Sometimes I just feel so small. And I just learned he’s talking about me in the newsroom too.
You have to leave him.
I can’t. I love him.
Nobody’s worth losing yourself over. Can I call you?
Linney panicked and typed quickly.
No. I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I’m just tired.
I don’t believe you.
No really. I’m in Rotterdam for a story and it’s been a long day. Forget I said anything.
Don’t shut me out. I’m here for you.
I’m not. I’m just exaggerating. Things will be fine when I get back.
If he’s not ready to get help, you HAVE to leave him.
Now you’re the one exaggerating.
Please listen to me. I’m calling you now.
Derek, let it go. I’m fine.
Linney’s phone rang, and she dropped it on the bed, ignoring the sound. Another call. A third. Linney silenced her phone, and pulled the covers over her head. She couldn’t deal with this. Not now. Not even with Derek.
* * *
After a restless night,Linney appeared for breakfast with Grant quiet and pale, and he asked if she’d slept alright.
She shook her head. “Lots on my mind.”
“I hope I didn’t contribute to that with what I said yesterday.”
Linney lay her hand on Grant’s arm. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
When the train pulled out of the station, Linney remembered her phone and took it off silent. Five missed calls from Derek. She slumped in her seat. He needed to let it go.
Almost immediately, her phone buzzed. MJ had news.
Heads up. Loverboy didn’t make it in this morning.
On our way home now.
You might want to go over to his place when you get back. Even Gemma couldn’t reach him and she looks like she’s ready to strangle him. She had to give his story to Ron.
Ron’ll do a good job.
Not the point. Mac’s out of control.
I know. I’m scared.
I’m here for you when you need me.
?? Thanks.
Linney felt the dull ache in her head return. She propped her glasses on the top of her head and rubbed her eyes. It didn’t help. And she spent the rest of the journey fretting. She wasn’t going to be able to ignore this anymore. She flagged down a taxi at Kings Cross station and picked at a hangnail until it bled. Soon she arrived at Mac’s place. The hinges creaked as she used her keys to open the door and crept into his dark flat. “Mac? Are you here? It’s Linney.”
She heard a thud from the bedroom and then some scuffling. Mac appeared in the doorway with a tumbler in his hand. He had a black eye and a scraped cheekbone. “Hey, Linney,” he slurred as he weaved his way toward her, stumbling into the coffee table on his way. “Ouch!”
“Mac, you’re drunk. It’s not even lunchtime.” The sight of him confirmed all the things she’d been worried about. “What happened?” Mac threw back the amber liquid in his glass and set it down roughly. He put his arms around Linney, who stiffened at his touch.
“I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.” Mac kissed her sloppily and she tensed and wrinkled her nose at the taste of his boozy breath and the smell of stale sweat.
“What happened?” she repeated.
“This?” Mac asked, touching the bruise under his left eye. “Disagreement at the pub. You should see the other guy.”
“Oh, Mac. You can’t keep doing this,” she said sadly.
“I’m fine,” Mac insisted. “Just fine.”
“Okay, I can’t keep doing this.”
Mac didn’t respond, and she followed him into the bedroom, where he picked up a bottle and took a swig. He certainly wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. When Linney looked around the room, she saw another empty bottle by the side of his bed, and judging by the state of the covers, if he’d slept at all last night, it hadn’t been soundly. She hadn’t missed the bloodshot eyes and his grey pallor.
Mac lay down on the bed and pulled up the rumpled sheets. “You gonna join me?” he asked, but she shook her head. “Your loss,” he grumbled, but it wasn’t long before his eyes closed, and he began snoring loudly.
There were no tears left to cry as she cleaned up the liquor bottles in the bedroom, and then the beer bottles she found in Mac’s reception room. She put on a pot of coffee, drinking a cup to steady herself, and planning to pour the rest down Mac’s throat when he woke up. Time to let MJ know.
I found him. It’s bad.
What are you going to do?
I don’t know. But I have to do something. For real this time.
Will he get help?
IDK. He’s sleeping now.
Sleeping? Or passed out.
Either way …
Let me know if you need anything.
Just let Gemma know I’m here?
Consider it done.
Late in the afternoon, after she’d thrown away the first pot of coffee, Linney heard retching in the bathroom. She found Mac sitting on the floor in his boxers and T-shirt, leaning against the wall, holding his pounding head in his hands. “Mac?” He looked up and groaned. She’d never seen him look so bad. “Take a shower. And then we’ll talk.” Linney made fresh coffee and waited for him.
Mac joined her in the kitchen half an hour later. His hair was damp, and he’d shaved, but his black eye seemed to have darkened. “Linney, why are you … How did you—?” he rasped and lapsed into a fit of coughing. She handed him a cup of strong coffee.
“MJ told me. I’m worried about you—you missed work today.”
Mac had the presence of mind to be embarrassed. “Gemma.” He winced. “The Downing Street story.”
“She sent Ron. It won’t be the same, but he was the only one available.” Linney’s voice was flat as she gathered her things to go. “I meant what I said, Mac. I can’t keep going on like this. You need to get some help. ”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve stopped—well cut back—before. I can do it again. You believe me, don’t you?”
Linney shrugged her shoulders. She slipped out of his flat and left him to think about it.
* * *
Derek waselbow deep in legal briefs, the remains of his lunch pushed off to the side of his desk. His latest battle with an unscrupulous employer was proving to be more difficult than he’d hoped. The guy had a lawyer who was burying him in legal papers. Derek would win, and his client would have his rights restored, with restitution, but it was taking longer than he liked. When his phone buzzed on his desk, he glanced over.
Do you have time to talk?
His brow furrowed. It wasn’t like Linney to reach out this early in the day and he did want to push this case a little further.
Just finishing something up. Can it wait an hour?
Absolutely. It’s not important. I just need to pick your brain.
Derek had a funny feeling, and he shoved his chair away from his desk. Taking a drink of the cold coffee on his desk, he dialled Linney’s number.
“You called. It could have waited.”
“What’s up, Linney?”
“I just…I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a while since we talked.”
“Too long.”
“How’s Olivia?” She was stalling, and Derek knew it.
“She’s fine. Working too hard, but that’s not new. What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s not important. I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Linney, it’s me. You can tell me anything. Is it Mac?”
There was silence. “Things aren’t good,” she said finally. “No, things are awful.”
It was like a dam broke and suddenly Linney told Derek all about how bad it had gotten.
He was aghast. “Linney, you have to get yourself out of this relationship. Now, before he hurts you.” Derek had too many clients—admittedly in very different circumstances—who had been in abusive relationships, and often alcohol was at the root of them. “I’m serious about this. Do you know how many women?—”
“I know.” He heard a vulnerability in her voice that he had never heard before. “I just don’t know if I can.”
“Linney, you know I love you, right? You’re my best friend in the world. And I am frightened for you.” He heard her crying on the other end of the phone. “You can do this. You are strong enough to do this. You must do this.”
“Thank you, Derek,” she whispered and hung up the phone. He hoped she believed it.