Chapter 19 #2
She thought back. Now that he mentioned it, she did remember he’d only drunk water in the bar at the Olympia.
But she’d suspected he was just being parsimonious.
‘I didn’t think anything of it,’ she said.
‘There’s nothing unusual about not drinking for one night. And you never had a problem before—’
‘Didn’t I? I’m not so sure.’
‘Really?’ She cast her mind back, combing through her memories – the boozy student parties they’d been at together, the nights they’d spent in the campus bar, their holiday in Greece where they’d sipped ouzo outside little tavernas – trying to find something she hadn’t seen at the time.
But she came up blank. He’d overdone it sometimes, same as the rest of them.
But it hadn’t been a problem. He used to love drinking.
He’d even been a bit of a nob about wine.
She’d thought he’d appreciate the New Zealand sauvignon blanc she’d opened tonight.
One of her former clients had sent it to her as a farewell gift, and she’d been saving it for a special occasion when she’d have someone to share it with.
‘I don’t remember you having any issues with alcohol when we were together.’
‘Don’t you? I seem to recall a lot of mornings waking up in a cold sweat about what I’d done the night before. Not to mention the lectures I skipped the next day or the study hours I wasted because I stayed in bed late, sleeping it off.’
‘You had hangovers, and “The Fear” – that doesn’t make you an alcoholic. It’s called being a student.’
‘I’m not a student any more. Anyway, who said anything about being an alcoholic?’
‘Um… you did.’
He smiled, shaking his head, seeming amused at her confusion. ‘I said I was eight months sober, not that I have a substance abuse disorder. It’s interesting that you automatically jump to that conclusion.’
‘It’s a reasonable assumption when you throw around phrases like “eight months sober”.’
‘People are so black and white about it – you either have total alcohol dependency or you’re a “normal” drinker. But it’s a spectrum, isn’t it? Like most things.’
She shrugged. ‘I suppose.’
‘I don’t have an addiction. I can even still enjoy the very occasional glass of wine now and then—’
‘Oh!’
‘But I came to realise that I had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. It was adversely affecting my life – my work, my relationships. So you could say I had a drink problem.’
‘I suppose you could.’ If you really want to have one, she thought, angry on behalf of Roly and all the other real alcoholics who’d rather not. Because she could see this was just another pose for him, like being broke.
‘One day I took a long, hard look at myself and I didn’t like what I saw.’
Ella could understand that. She was taking a long, hard look at him right now, and not liking what she saw very much. Had he always been this pompous and sanctimonious? Maybe drink had affected her relationships too, and she’d seen him through rosé-tinted glasses.
‘So when you say you’re sober, you just mean you’re cutting down a bit on drink?’
‘No, it’s more than that. I identify as sober, but that might mean not drinking ninety-nine days out of a hundred. I’m more mindful about it. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.’
‘Good to know. In that case, you won’t mind if I—’ She picked up the bottle and poured herself a large glass. He used to love wine. He was probably gagging for a glass right now, but then he’d have to give up the chance to be smug. What a dilemma for him!
‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ he said.
I bet you would, she thought, taking a swig. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night, and again was regretting not opting for an evening of indulgent solitude. She might as well have. She was going to be drinking alone anyway.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said disingenuously. ‘I’m on the don’t-have-one end of the drink problem spectrum, so it’s fine.’ He looked put-out as she took another sip, and she hated how much that pleased her.
‘I thought you’d want to be supportive of my sobriety. Doesn’t it occur to you that it might be triggering for me?’
Triggering! ‘I don’t see how. Roly doesn’t have any problem with me drinking around him, and he’s a real alcoholic.’ Gah, why was she being such a bitch?
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Yep. He’s got a pin from AA and everything.’
Andrew didn’t laugh, just gave her a patient, patronising smile. ‘I mean, are you sure he doesn’t have a problem with being around alcohol? Maybe he’s just too nice to say anything?’
Unlike you, she thought, taking a big gulp of wine.
‘I mean, it must make it more difficult for him.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I believe him. I think it was hard for him at first, when he came out of rehab, but he’s learned to cope.’
‘But why should he have to cope?’
‘Because this is the world he lives in, and he wants to be a part of it. People drink. He can’t control what everyone else does, and he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t expect other people to change to accommodate him.’
‘But you’re his friend. Wouldn’t it be the kind thing to do, to consider his feelings?’
‘I am. Honestly, Roly would hate it if I felt I couldn’t have a drink in my own home if I wanted one.’
He sipped his water and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You know, I’m finding your discomfort with my sobriety quite telling.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Maybe you don’t like the fact that I’m not your partner in crime any longer.’
‘What?’ She reared back, indignant. ‘I haven’t seen you in forever. You haven’t been my “partner in crime” for a long time – not that I think having a glass of wine is a crime, by the way.’
‘Why so defensive? Could it be you feel threatened by my sobriety because it’s something you need to address in yourself?’
Ella frowned, as if giving this serious thought.
‘Nah,’ she said then. ‘I just don’t see any point in denying yourself the pleasure if you don’t have to.
If you have a drink problem, I’m glad you’ve got it under control.
I really am.’ She reached for the bottle and topped up her glass.
‘Lucky for me I don’t, so I can still enjoy this delicious sauvignon blanc. ’
‘You’re evil,’ Andrew grinned teasingly, as if she was really tempting him. But she knew no wine, no matter how delicious, would ever taste as good to him as being smug felt. ‘But nothing tastes as good as being sober feels,’ he said, confirming her suspicions.
Had he always been this joyless, she wondered, this earnest? She used to like herself around him; liked the person she was with him. Now he just seemed to bring out the worst in her.
She stood. ‘Well, I’ll get the salmon in the oven.
We’re having it with new potatoes, salsa verde and roasted asparagus.
Hope that’s okay?’ It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be.
He used to eat fish, but maybe that had changed too.
She waited for him to tell her he was a vegetarian now, bracing herself for the onslaught of self-righteousness.
She knew he’d be unbearable about it if he was.
‘Sounds delicious!’ He licked his lips, and she felt irrationally irritated. She didn’t want a fight, she reminded herself.
‘I was making it for Roly,’ she told him, still feeling a childish need to oppose him. ‘You just lucked out.’
* * *
Ella gave herself a talking to as she drained the potatoes and plated the salmon and asparagus.
She’d invited Andrew over. She’d wanted company, and here he was.
He’d done nothing wrong, so why was she behaving so churlishly towards him?
So he’d changed. Or she had. That didn’t mean they couldn’t have a perfectly nice time together.
It might be interesting getting to know this new Andrew.
And even if it wasn’t, if he’d become someone she didn’t like and she never wanted to see him again, she could at least be civil and friendly for a few hours.
She brought the food to the table, determined to cheer up and try to make it a pleasant evening for both of them. How hard could it be?
‘So how’s work?’ Andrew asked as he cut into his fish.
‘It’s great. I really love it!’ She considered telling him about the new jackets coming in today, the reason she’d planned a celebratory dinner, but thought better of it.
‘Really?’ He looked dubious. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a good way to ease yourself back into things, while you look for something more permanent.’
‘It is permanent.’
‘Yes, but I meant something more in your field.’
‘What field? I don’t have a “field”, Andrew. I’m really lucky Jake and Dylan took me on. And there are lots of ways I can progress there too.’
‘But it’s not what you want, is it?’
She shrugged. ‘It may not be what I’d envisaged for myself before, but things change. People change. It’s true I never saw myself working in business, but I’m finding it really interesting.’
‘You have changed. What do you like so much about it?’
‘I like that we’re putting something real and tangible into the world, not just tossing ideas around.
’ She thought about those drowsy afternoons in tutors’ studies discussing political theory, the endless circular debates around cafeteria tables.
‘I like that it’s quantifiable, that you can measure results in numbers and percentages.
I enjoy working on marketing campaigns because I can see exactly the improvements I’ve made.
It’s satisfying.’ She smiled. She’d never analysed and articulated it for herself before. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m still just tossing ideas around.’ He smiled. ‘Slaving away at the coalface of academia, griping about internal politics… the usual. I may not be able to see the effects of my teaching in hard figures, but I hope I’m having some positive influence on young minds.’
‘What about your social life? You said you’re not seeing anyone?’