Chapter 51
The wait is interminable, but when the doctor returns he gives me a very clear prognosis.
‘Your son is going to have a terrible hangover.’
‘What about his head?’ I ask, anxiously.
‘He’s had a nasty bump, so that will hurt, but there’s nothing on his scan that concerns me. The best course of action is for us to keep an eye on him here for a little while, then when he’s sober, you can take him home and let him have a good sleep.’
The nursing staff bring Leo back shortly afterwards. He’s conscious if not coherent – though part of me does wonder if he’s doing that deliberately to avoid having to talk to me. They set him up on the bed, with an IV and various other pieces of equipment, before he promptly falls asleep again.
Zach puts an arm around me and kisses me on the head.
‘Thank you. You know . . . for being here,’ I say.
‘Any time,’ he smiles. ‘Did you phone your mom?’
‘Yes, she’s on her way. You should go, Zach. It’s nearly 4am. There’s only meant to be two people at a bedside,’ I add, for good measure.
He nods. Stands up. ‘Well . . . that was almost a perfect evening.’
I give a little laugh. ‘Almost.’
‘Take it easy, Darling,’ he says, planting the softest kiss on my lips.
‘And you, Russo.’
It’s only a matter of minutes after Zach has left that the curtain swishes and my mother appears, like a magician’s assistant.
She looks at Leo, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. I’m not sure if it’s the sliver of drool out of the side of his mouth, but I am suddenly all out of ideas about how to put a positive spin on things.
‘You’d better sit down, Mum,’ I say.
She lowers herself onto the chair next to me.
I take a deep breath. And I tell her everything. Not just about what happened tonight. But about the run-up to this. The lying, the vaping, the non-stop clashes and his almost wilful resistance to his schoolwork.
She listens silently as I go on and on. When I’ve finally finished, she sits back in her chair as if she’s been winded.
‘I didn’t realise things were that bad. Why didn’t you tell me, Lisa?’
‘Because I was ashamed.’
‘Of what ? ’ she says, shocked.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Because you and dad were such great parents and I seem to be making an almighty cock-up of the job. If I’d pulled a stunt like this when I was a teenager, you’d have killed me. Quite honestly, Mum,’ I say, feeling my lip begin to tremble, ‘it’s hard not to feel like a bit of a failure sometimes.’
The expression on her face darkens. ‘Do not do that, Lisa.’
‘Do what?’
‘Blame yourself. We mums get enough flack as it is without heaping more on ourselves. Now, you listen to me. You are a fantastic mother. And I am horrified that you think I’d have ever considered you anything else. As for Leo . . . well, he might be the light of my life, but he’s been an idiot. However . . .’
She leans in.
‘I hate to break this to you: you weren’t an easy teenager either.’
‘I never did anything like this,’ I protest.
‘You did plenty . And I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you that you ran off at the age of 22 and got married to a boy we’d hardly even met. Do you think I felt like a “great parent” then? I didn’t do much patting myself on the back after that, I assure you.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t need to be! The only point I’m making is that you were young. We all do silly things when we’re young – it’s part of life. Leo’s growing up. He’s becoming an adult. But like a lot of teenagers, he’s tripping over his own feet and trying to get there faster than he’s ready. His brain hasn’t quite caught up yet. But it can be horrible for you, I know.’
‘I just feel like he’s out of control sometimes.’
She shakes her head. ‘You just don’t feel like you have any control over him any more. And the truth is: you don’t. The days when he was little and you could just put his shoes on for him if he was playing up are long gone.’
I swallow, look down at my hands.
She looks at him and shakes her head. ‘I’ll be having words with him when he’s sobered up, believe me. But in the meantime, just know that he will get there, Lisa. One day, you’ll look back on this and it will feel like a distant memory. Look, Leo’s no angel. But there are enough glimmers of light in him for us all to know that he’ll turn out to be a wonderful young man. You’ve just got to hang in there.’
‘I really hope you’re right . . .’
‘I am. Because he’s got you – his rock . You’re his and I’m yours. Okay? Now come here.’
I stand up as she envelops me in a hug so tight I can hardly breathe for a moment.
She pulls away and looks at me before a smile appears on one corner of her mouth.
‘So what was the maths tutor doing here exactly – teaching you Pythagoras’s theorem?’
‘I—’ I begin to blurt an explanation, then spot the wry smile on her face.
‘He is very handsome,’ she says, for what I can’t help noticing is the second time. ‘How long have you been dating?’
‘We’re not dating . We’re not anything. He’s lovely but he’s going back to the States soon so it can’t go anywhere.’
‘That’s a shame.’
She frowns at my expression. ‘Why do you look so surprised?’
‘Well . . . I assumed you’d disapprove.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Then she stops herself. ‘Maybe I would have . . . a bit. But not about you finding someone . Not about you being happy . That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. I just don’t think you should rush into getting married again. I don’t mind admitting that I think you’ve got appalling taste in men. Generally, at least.’
‘Mum, I can promise you now: I am never, ever, ever getting married again.’
‘Good girl,’ she smiles, patting me on the hand as if I’ve just passed a Grade 3 piano exam. A nurse arrives and announces that she’s here to take Leo’s observations.
‘The doctor has also asked me to give a leaflet to take home about potentially getting help for alcohol addiction,’ she says.
‘That’s all she needs,’ Mum says, rolling her eyes. ‘She already thinks she’s a bad mother as it is.’
‘Course you do, love,’ the nurse deadpans, gesturing to Leo. ‘They make all the mistakes and we get to do all the suffering. Though, to be fair, I think he’ll be doing plenty of that by the time he wakes up. If I were you, I’d just sit him down in the next day or two and have a proper conversation with him about the risks of drinking. If you feel you want to be referred to any support services afterwards, speak to your GP.’
Leo begins to stir.
‘Oh, here is. George Best is awake,’ sighs Mum, as his eyes flutter open to leave an almost comical where-am-I look on his face.
I lean in and kiss him on the head.
‘You’re in hospital, sweetheart,’ I whisper. ‘You’re going to be all right. But just so you know, you’re grounded – until you’re 35.’