Page 29 of Forgive Me Not
Lou’s face remained expressionless.
‘I only found out recently. I’m worried. What if I’ve done some damage?’
Lou tapped furiously at the screen for a moment. ‘Right, well this changes everything. We’ll have to get you a detox immediately. It’s too dangerous to do during the second trimester, and that’s not far off.’
‘Can’t I have some time to think about it?’ Emma’s scalp felt tight. ‘I’ve heard terrible stories from friends about seizures and hallucinations.’
‘That’s why it should be done in a residential detoxification service.’
‘In hospital? With doctors and nurses?’ Her face fell. ‘They’ll think me the worst person ever.’
‘People aren’t there to judge – they’re there to look after you and baby,’ said Lou calmly. ‘I’ll have to inform social care as well.’
‘No! Please! They’ll—’
‘They will help you make the best decisions. Everyone is here to support you. Of course you have options, Emma, regarding the pregnancy. I can fetch you a leaflet, and if you decide—’
‘I’m keeping it,’ Emma blurted out.
Where had that come from? It didn’t make sense, but then sometimes, in life, the most important things never did. In school they’d once touched on chaos theory – to expect the unexpected. Perhaps that was what this was. Your stereotypical order of life was: get a job, fall in love, move into a house, get pregnant. Perhaps this chaotic decision was right but simply a case of working things backwards.
Then there was Joe. What would he have wanted? Would he approve of her decision?
‘The social care duty officer will sort you out with emergency accommodation – a hostel,’ said Lou. ‘We should be able to book the detox for later this week. It’s really important that you keep on drinking until you go in. It can be dangerous to stop suddenly after months or years of abuse. Then, once you’re out, your hostel worker will work on finding more permanent accommodation whilst I concentrate on getting you a place in rehab.’
‘I haven’t got much choice, have I?’ Emma mumbled, and attempted a small smile.
‘There is always a choice. You could run away, back to the obscurity of the streets. But you know this situation is just going to get bigger and bigger – literally. And you rang our number. I get the feeling that maybe you’re ready to stop running. Running from yourself. Running from responsibility.’
Emma’s next words came out in a whisper. ‘It’s scary.’
‘It is,’ said Lou in a quiet voice. ‘This process means you’ve got to deal with your feelings for possibly the first time in years. But we’re all on your side, Emma. And after treatment – if you want – recovery services will give you the tools to build a different life.
She could picture it now. Her and the baby in their own little flat. A pram. A cot. They’d make friends at playgroup. Emma would purée vegetables and get up at night whenever the baby cried. And when it got older, they’d be best friends. Watch movies together. Go shopping. Eat pizza. Although Emma would always be a mum first, and set rules about staying out late and getting homework done. There would be pleases and thank yous. And tidy bedrooms.
She thanked Lou and took a large mouthful of tea. It scalded the back of her throat, but she hardly noticed and rested a hand across her stomach. Everything would be all right now.
Chapter 10
How much had changed in a year, thought Emma, as she strolled into Healdbury. Today, the twentieth of June, was her sobriety birthday. For three hundred and sixty-five days she’d not picked up. How was that even possible? Last night she’d caught the bus to her favourite AA meeting. She’d chaired for the first time. Old Len had sliced up a chocolate cake. Another member handed her a card signed by everyone.
Now she crossed the road with Dash and walked down towards the village. Sparrows chirped, leaves rustled and a distant ice cream van played a perfect earworm melody. As she approached the supermarket, the mundane chat of shoppers took over, accompanied by Smooth Radio escaping a car. As usual, Rita with the asymmetrical hair sat there. Emma stopped for a quick chat and handed over a packed lunch that she’d prepared for her at the farm before leaving. Then she headed on down the road and turned left. Stig sat reading outside the pet shop.
Emma stopped for a moment and rummaged in her purse. A big gold disc smiled up at her. It was AA’s first-year sobriety coin. She took it out. Her friend from treatment, Rachel, had given it to her a few weeks ago. She’d kept it safe until today, and now she kissed it with ceremony. She’d taken it as a sign that, one year on, it was time for her to take the next step and earnestly start helping others while she had the chance – before she had to confess and face head on the worst thing she’d done in the past. She stared at the coin for a moment and then slid it back into her purse.
Dash pulled at the lead. He and his new friend, the Duchess, greeted each other with sniffs and metronome tails. Emma handed Stig a packed lunch as well.
‘I’ve just got to speak to Phil in the pet shop before I change my mind about a plan I’ve got, and then I’ll come back out. I’ve a proposition for you.’
Stig sat upright and smiled. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve had one of them. Leave Dash with us if you like.’
Nerves strumming the inside of her stomach, Emma passed him the lead. Then she took a deep breath and pushed on the door. The bell rang as she went in. The shop was empty of customers. She glanced around at the plastic bags of food and the two fish tanks that smelt of algae. They needed a good clean, as did the hamsters’ cage. She’d enjoyed her days working here until things got out of hand. She’d turn up with a hangover more often than not, and resent how the job dirtied her polished nails.
Phil was doing a crossword. He looked up and adjusted his cap. Straggly greying curls poked from underneath. A scowl crossed his unshaven face.
She approached the till. ‘Hi, Phil.’
‘Emma,’ he said, looking back at his crossword. ‘Why are you here?’
