Chapter 2
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Lyra
After a minute of silence, Charlie rang the bell again.
”Hello, hello, is anyone in there?” he called out as if playing hide and seek with a bunch of kids.
”What do you want?” called out a young girl. ”We”re not selling microwaveable meals today.”
Charlie shifted uncomfortably and sighed.
”Another freaking comedian,” he muttered, his face tensing up.
”I”m Lyra, and this is Charlie. We”re social workers. We”ve come to speak with your Mom. Is she in?”
”She might be, but she doesn”t want to get eaten by the cookie monster.”
”Oh, the youth of today and their tactful vocabulary,” whispered Charlie. Even though I knew he was joking, he seemed to be approaching the end of his tether. I wondered how many other comments he”d been attacked with that day about his weight.
”Could you just get your Mom, please? Tanya, isn”t it?” I asked.
”Fine,” said the girl. Then she shouted. ”Mom, there are a couple of nut jobs outside. One looks like he wants to raid our fridge, and the other looks like one of those fancy slutts Dad ran off with.”
”Kids will be kids,” I said.
I placed my hand on Charlie”s shoulder and rolled my eyes, telling him we were in this together.
”I guess so. Still hurts, though.”
After a few seconds, keys rattled in the door, and it opened. A tall woman with her blond hair tied up in a bun appeared wearing a short, silky black dressing gown. Mascara smudged around her eyes, giving the impression that she”d been crying.
”Can I help you guys?” she asked in a hoarse voice.
”Tanya Garret?”
”Yeah, that”s me. Who are you?”
”We”ve come to save the day,” said Charlie, punching the air.
”Great, a chubby Superman and his sexy secretary.”
”We”re social workers. We”ve come to assess your situation,” I said, ignoring her comment.
”Fine, come in and assess, but you”ll have to excuse the mess: our cleaner is on vacation.”
She moved to the side and opened the door to let us in. No sooner had I stepped in the house than I knew what we were dealing with. The place was a tip: dirty clothes scattered around the floor, empty wine bottles and beer cans on the tables, and ashtrays full of cigarette butts.
As we followed Tanya into the lounge, a familiar smell of stale alcohol wafted up my nose, confirming my usual suspicions.
”Have a seat,” she said as she dropped back in an armchair.
”So, what”s wrong?” asked Charlie.
”What”s right, don”t you mean?” she said, looking around. Her eyes became misty, and her bottom lip began to give way. She took a stifled breath, and I noticed her trembling hands.
”Hey, just take it easy and tell us how we can help,” I said, giving her a sympathetic look.
”It”s my son, Todd. He”s gone missing.”
”Have you told the police?” I asked.
”Sure I did, but they don”t give two shits. Said he”s probably out getting high with his buddies.” She reached for a cigarette, lit it up, and blew up a stream of smoke while looking at Charlie. ”Can you help us?”
”We”ll try,” said Charlie. ”But we need to ask you a few questions.”
”Go for it.”
Charlie glanced at me. I took a deep breath. It was about to get personal.
”Where”s your husband?”
”Ex-husband,” she said with a hint of venom. ”He left us, ran off with one of the whores he was banging. Now, it”s just me and my kids, but with what little I make, I can”t afford to pay the bills. And since Todd disappeared, I haven”t been able to face going in to work.”
I glanced at a row of empty gin bottles huddled in the corner and wondered how much her dependency cost her.
”Where”s work?” asked Charlie.
”I work in a bar. It”s all I can get, but not enough.”
”What bar?” I asked.
”The Garden of Heathen,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.
”Isn”t that a...” said Charlie, tailing off.
”Yeah, it”s a dirty dance bar, you know, where desperate men go to watch women take off their clothes and prance about, waving their bits in the air. Have you been?” she asked, looking at Charlie. Her gown slipped away, revealing her thigh.
”Not my kind of scene,” said Charlie, clearing his throat.
”Why”s that? You prefer TGI Fridays?”
”Actually, yeah, I go there a lot.”
”Go figure.”
”Look,” I said, sensing this was going nowhere. ”We need to get to the root of the problem, Tanya.”
”Then pull me out of the ground and shake my ass,” she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. ”The fact is, I need help, financial help until my Todd comes home. Can I get some?”
I looked into her eyes and thought about how to go about this. She looked a mess, there was no doubt about that, caught in the alcohol trap. I had to dig deeper, though. I had to get her to open up.
”Have you asked for help about your drinking?”
”My drinking?” she asked, laughing nervously. ”I don”t got a problem with drinking.”
I nodded to the collection of empty bottles and smiled.
”I beg to differ.”
She glanced behind and tutted.
”They”re not mine.”
”Whose are they then?” asked Charlie.
”My ex”s. Just haven”t got around to cleaning up.”
I hated the next part, but I had to push her further.
”How often do you drink?” I asked.
”Just when I feel like it, you know.”
”When”s the earliest you may have a drink?” asked Charlie.
”Depends on how I feel after my shift. Mostly at night or at the end of a hard day. Just like everyone else. Don”t you drink?” she asked, staring into my eyes.
Guilt pierced my heart. Damn, I hated being asked that question, especially by a potential alcoholic. But the truth was, I did enjoy the odd glass of wine. I had it under control, though: only one, or maybe two, after a stressful day at work. I wasn”t going to tell Tanya that, though.
”We”re not here to discuss my drinking habits.”
”No? What about him?”
”Me?” asked Charlie, pointing at himself. ”Not me. Never have. Never will.”
It was true, at least as far as I knew. Charlie had never had the pleasure of letting alcohol pass his lips and into his bloodstream. He was as clean as a newborn baby.
”What about your kids?” asked Charlie. ”And Todd?”
”What about them?”
”Do they drink?”
”Only when they”re out with their buddies, you know how it is: young kids will get up to shit, experience the world. Who doesn”t drink these days?” She was right. Who didn”t drink? Maybe that was the whole problem. ”Look, can I get some financial help or not? I can”t push myself to work right now, and soon I”ll get the sack. I”ve got bills to pay.”
And booze to buy.
”Look, the best I can do right now is send in a report, but it may take some time.”
”How long?” she asked, getting uncomfortable.
”At least five days, but in the meantime, if you agree to attend a couple of meetings, that might help your case.”
”What kind of meetings?” she asked, frowning.
”Ones that will help with your drinking,” said Charlie.
”But I ain”t got no drinking problem,” she cried, squeezing her fists into balls.
That”s what they all said, I thought, as I stared into her eyes, but I knew that as soon as we”d left, she”d reach for a bottle and pour in a healthy shot of gin, probably larger than her usual size.
”We”ll assess your claim and get back to you,” said Charlie, getting to his feet.
I stood up and turned to leave.
”Please, I”m desperate,” said Tanya.
I glanced back. Tears were brimming up in her eyes. I stepped towards her and took her hand.
”I”ll do what I can, but in the meantime, think about the meetings. Here”s my card.”
”Fine,” she said, taking it from me. ”I”ll go, but I”m telling you now: I”m the same as everyone else. The odd drink here and there helps me at the end of a hard day.”
”But it doesn”t help,” said Charlie. ”If anything, it makes you worse. Try not drinking for twenty-four hours. You”ll find it refreshing.”
”How would you know if you”ve never tried?” she asked.
”Trust me, I”m an expert.”
”Sure, whatever you say.”
As we walked out of Tanya”s house, that usual buzz of leaving the last client of the day hit me harder than usual. I was free from other people”s problems, at least until the following morning.
”What you up to tonight?” I asked Charlie as we got back to our cars.
”Oh, I might go to the Garden of Heaten and get smashed while watching women flash their bits.”
”Not going to TGI”s?”
”Oh yeah, that will come after.” He took a sigh and patted me on the shoulder. ”Another victim to that damn drug.”
”Indeed.”
”I”ll catch you tomorrow,” said Charlie, heading to his car.
”Not if I catch you first.”
On my drive home, images of Tanya and her kids ran through my mind. Why did she have to get into that state? What was coming to this damn world?
Memories of Dad flashed in my mind: arguments with Mom, seeing him passed out on the kitchen floor, covered in his vomit, and then his withered gormless body when the mighty cancer had finally sucked what it could from him.
I got home, took off my shoes and went straight to the fridge. I pulled out a chilled bottle of white wine, undid the screw top, and poured myself an extra-large glass.
As the wine hit my lips and the alcohol warmed my chest, an uncomfortable dependent pang niggled at my nerves. Was I like Tanya, using wine to soothe my nerves after a stressful day? I couldn”t be. I had a job, ate healthily and looked after my body. I wasn”t a bum or a dropout from society. I helped people.
I wasn”t an alcoholic.
I didn”t have a problem.
At least, I didn”t think I did.