Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tom was sat propped up by a pillow when Clara arrived the next morning. She was pleased to see him looking much brighter, although he did look rather sheepish when he saw her.
‘Good morning, soldier. How are you feeling this morning?’
He couldn’t quite look her in the eye.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have messaged you like that.’
‘Are you kidding me? Of course you should have. It could have gone so horribly wrong if you hadn’t. I care for you so much and I’ve missed you terribly, Tom.’
Clara felt clingy as she said that last bit and quickly backtracked.
‘We’ve all missed you so much. John, Darren and everyone at church. We all wondered where you’d got to.’
‘How can I ever face any of you after this? I’ve let everyone down.’
‘You haven’t let anyone down. You’re not well right now, that’s all. You need help to get better. Your mental health is just as important as any other part of your body. If you had a broken leg, you’d want to fix it, wouldn’t you? This is just the same.’
Tom coughed and reached for the water jug to the side of him. ‘Look, you should know something about me . . .’ He took a sip of the water and Clara helped him put the jug down safely.
‘You don’t have to tell me now. It can wait until you’re better.’
‘No, I want to tell you.’
‘Okay then, go ahead.’
Clara rubbed at her temple as Tom let out a sigh.
‘Right. This is like ripping a plaster off so I’ll come straight out with it. I’m an alcoholic. Well, a recovering alcoholic, only now I guess I’m back to being one again. So, this is a relapse.’
Clara took in what he was saying. She already had an inkling after being in his house. The non-alcoholic communion, the sunny afternoon at the pub when Tom stuck to water; she should have put two and two together sooner.
‘Yeah, I was beginning to guess that but it’s okay; things happen. We all react to stress and outside influences differently. Have you sought help for it?’
‘Yup. Been a member of AA for two years.’
‘I see. I suppose it’s a bit soon, but does your mentor know anything about last night?’
‘Nope, not yet. I’m so ashamed. He’s always been so patient. I don’t deserve everyone’s time. I’m just a waste of their effort and resources. There’s no hope for me.’
‘Goodness, Tom! Don’t dare say such things. Why would you be so hard on yourself? Everyone makes mistakes.’
‘Some of us more than others.’
‘No, you made one slip-up. It’s okay. So, you’re an alcoholic who got help and recognised it was an issue. What’s there to be ashamed of? You turned yourself around, didn’t you?’
‘I turned myself around and then did it again. I’m such a fool.’
‘You’re not a fool, Tom.’
‘I am, and anyhow, it’s what I did before I turned myself around that matters. My penance is to live with the guilt, the shame and all the pain I must carry.’
‘Come on. Nobody needs to carry pain with them. Why would you think like that? What on earth did you do? I want to understand what’s going on. Would it help you to tell me?’
‘No. I don’t want to talk about what I’ve done, or why I did it.’ Tom couldn’t meet Clara’s gaze. He felt his cheeks burn and pressed his hand against his face. He wasn’t a born liar, and he wasn’t very good at being put on the spot.
‘But I can’t help you if I don’t know. How bad can it possibly be?’
Tom finally looked up at Clara and shook his head. He let out a groan.
‘Seriously, you don’t want to hear it. All I’ll say is that I lost my family because of stuff I did, so it’s pretty bad.
When my wife had enough of me loving alcohol more than her and then disappointing my son in ways that fill me with self-hatred, I don’t believe I deserve forgiveness of any kind. ’
‘Firstly, Tom, everyone deserves forgiveness if they realise they’ve done wrong. Secondly, you have a son? I had no idea.’
‘Yup. He’s grown up now.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about him before?’
‘Because we’re estranged. There’s nothing to say. It was his birthday the day of the . . . Never mind.’ Tom’s chin was quivering. He felt a thickness well up in his throat.
‘The day of the what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Tom took a deep breath to steady his nerves as Clara thought back to how Tom had been contactable and always reliable until the strawberry afternoon tea.
‘The day of my charity tea. Was that his birthday?’
‘Yup. I’m sorry. That’s why I let you down. I couldn’t face it.’
‘Ah. I see. It’s not a problem but I wish you’d have told me it wasn’t a good day for you.
There I was going on about it and I guess you just agreed with everything I said to keep the peace.
It didn’t matter if you weren’t there but it was such a momentous thing for us to announce ourselves as a couple there. I was disappointed.’
Clara hated confronting Tom when he was so vulnerable and played with her ring, pulling it on and off. She knew it wasn’t the best timing to say this but it was still at the forefront of her mind.
‘Well, I guess we’re no longer a couple now.’
‘I don’t know what we are, Tom. I’ve loved every moment with you and I know that I can’t bear to see you like this.’
‘I’ll get help. I promise.’
Clara noticed that Tom had tears in his eyes and she grasped hold of his hand to comfort him. As much as she wanted to believe that he would get help, she needed him to be honest and tell her everything.
‘If you trust me, will you tell me more about your son and why he won’t speak to you?’
‘I’m not ready to talk about him. Sorry.’
Clara understood that if she was to gain Tom’s trust then she needed to change subjects.
This was one topic that seemed to be off limits for him.
Whilst Clara’s heart ached for him, she wondered why he wouldn’t tell her.
Surely he realised that she had met many people through the church who struggled with addiction and family problems. It was frustrating when all she wanted to do was make everything better.
‘Okay, I get it.’
Clara noticed Tom’s blood pressure rise on the monitor beside him.
‘I do think you should let someone know about your whereabouts though. Do you have any family anywhere?’
‘Nope. Not that I speak to.’
‘Right. How about your mentor then? I think it’s time we contacted him about this setback.’
Tom thought for a moment. He dreaded Pat finding out, but he also knew he needed to be informed.
‘Yes. He needs to know. Would you mind calling him for me? I can’t bring myself to tell him.’
‘Of course I will. Give me his number and I’ll call him.’
She had met some of the AA mentors through various introductions over the years but she had never encountered Pat O’Sullivan before. Clara could see how much Pat wanted to help Tom from the moment he walked in with a worried face as he saw him in his hospital bed.
‘Oh dear, Tom. You should have called me sooner,’ said Pat.
‘Sorry. I’ve let you down.’
That was all Tom ever said. Sometimes he felt as though he should have a tape recording of the line that he repeatedly told everyone countless times.
‘You’ve not let me down at all. All we want is to help you. We’re going to get you the right support. I assure you. Better days are ahead for you.’
Clara nodded in agreement and Tom felt a tinge of hope.
These people who were sat on either side of his bed genuinely wanted to help him get better.
He might not feel as though he deserved their kindness but these nice people were trying to find a solution to his troubles, and he told himself that he should at least make the effort to reciprocate.
‘Thank you. I’m ready for help. Whatever you need me to do.’
Both Pat and Clara were pleased that Tom could see he needed to change for good this time, and as the doctor came in to arrange Tom’s discharge from hospital, they went outside the room to have a chat.
‘I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances but it’s such a pleasure to meet you. Tom has spoken a lot about you and I know he thinks the world of your good self, Reverend.’
Pat tried to stay professional but he knew exactly what Tom thought of Clara.
Although he was a man of his word and kept everyone’s secrets, he wanted to say enough to make sure that she knew how important she was to him.
He knew Tom wasn’t one to ever talk much about his feelings and was always guarded.
Tom used to joke sometimes that he was as deep as the Pacific, which concerned Pat.
He often reminded Tom that talking was good for him and that sometimes it was important to let it all out.
If he would have spoken more about the things that bothered him, then there was a chance that he wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed right now.
Witnessing Tom in this state, Pat realised there were a lot more emotions going on than he had ever realised.
He knew that Tom’s drinking had got worse after his wife left him and that was as far as the story ever got.
Pat could see that her leaving was something of a catalyst that would haunt him for the rest of his life but Tom wouldn’t talk about it.
He simply shut himself off. Of course, Pat didn’t share these details with Clara but he guessed this was where his self-hatred stemmed from, which spiralled further through his alcoholism and guilt for what he put his family through, especially his son who he had completely alienated.
Clara wanted to know more about what Tom had told Pat about her, but she also understood the vows of secrecy he had to keep. Besides, there wasn’t much time as the doctor came out to inform them that Tom was ready to go home.
‘Do you want to take him? Or shall I?’ asked Pat.
‘I’ll take him. We really need to talk.’
Tom was weak as he strolled to the car. Clara thought of all the questions she had for him but also realised that he would clam up if she asked him. He had made it clear he’d said all he wanted to say. Besides, for now, his recovery from alcoholism was the most important thing.
‘How you feeling now?’ asked Clara, as she helped Tom with his seatbelt.
‘Let’s just say this has to be the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced . . . and I’ve had my fair share of them.’ Tom laughed.
He was already back to making a joke of a serious situation and she hoped that this was a good sign and not deflection. Clara thought how nice it was to see him smiling again. Less than twenty-four hours ago it was something she feared might never happen again.
As they drove closer to his home, Clara remembered how Tom’s fridge was looking empty apart from the cans.
‘Do you need milk, or anything? Or shall I take you straight home?’
‘Thanks. I might need milk.’
Tom stayed in the car as she rushed around the Tesco Express for some basics.
She took pride in caring for him by picking up a fresh loaf, some cheese and reluctantly picked up a ready-made spaghetti bolognaise.
Maybe she would make him something homemade tomorrow, she thought to herself.
He needed some goodness put back into him and she wasn’t sure the hospital food had helped too much.
Clara handed back Tom’s spare key when they arrived home and, as they walked into the lounge, Tom was mortified. Looking around at all the cans and empty wine bottles after what he thought must have been a three-day bender was a wake-up call.
‘Oh, my goodness. How mortifying. I’m so sorry you had to see this. It didn’t look quite that bad from my view on the sofa.’
‘It’s fine. You don’t have to be embarrassed. Believe me, I’ve seen much worse in my job. Besides, you should know I’m not here to judge. What does the Bible say? “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” Remember that?’
Tom touched Clara’s arm. ‘Why are you so good to me?’
‘Because deep down I know you’re a good man.
I’ve seen the way you give money to the homeless whenever we pass someone on the street.
Then you generously tipped that busker. It’s not even about money.
You always go out of your way to help people.
I know you do. You’re always the first to volunteer to help.
Even if you don’t always see it, I want you to know you’re not a bad man, Tom. You’re really not.’
Tom gestured around him. ‘I beg to differ, but thank you.’
‘Come on, why don’t you get some rest and I’ll clear this place up so you don’t have to look at it any longer. Where do you keep your bin bags?’
‘I can’t let you do that. It’s my mess.’
‘Not at all, it’s therapeutic. I love clearing up.’
‘Nobody loves clearing up. Unless you’re on one of those TV programmes about decluttering and that’s just weird.’
‘I don’t mind at all. Honestly, I’m used to it. You should see what student accommodation’s like after a night out. Besides, do these nails look like I’m some sort of prima donna who doesn’t lift a finger?’
She had never been one to wear nail polish. She would be the sort of person who would chip it instantly.
‘You have lovely nails.’
‘Ah, thank you but that isn’t what a manicurist in a fancy salon would think. Anyhow, let me make you a coffee and you sit there. The doctor said you needed to rest for a few days.’
‘What did I do to deserve someone so wonderful in my life?’
For the first time since she had found him on the sofa, Tom managed to give Clara one of his lingering looks directly in the eye.
It gave her a little tingle, but Clara also realised that everything had changed.
Deep down, this was a man who struggled to open up to anyone and she wasn’t sure there was much hope for the future.
She had to be sensible and listen to her head rather than her heart.
As Tom sipped his coffee on the sofa where he had tried to take his life, and Clara began to throw the empty cans into the blue recycling bag, she realised how complex Tom was.
She wasn’t confident that she or anyone else could fix him until he accepted that his pain was something he needed to work on for himself.