Page 76 of Forgive Me Not
‘There’s no pleasing some people,’ he said, and they both smiled.
‘I’m going for a walk, and then I’ve just got to pop back to the farm to see Andrea and Bligh.’ Her voice thickened.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yes. Yes, it’s fine. I… I just wanted to say… thanks, Phil – thanks for taking me in. I’m so grateful. I don’t know how I’d have managed without a room here.’
‘What’s brought this on? Had too much sun today?’
How Emma valued the gentle humour that was developing between them. If only she didn’t have to leave, just when she was forging a new life in Healdbury.
She made her way down the street, past the estate agent’s that used to be a sweet shop. Andrea would always choose toffees, Emma fruit bonbons. Mum gave them extra pocket money if they did one of the messier jobs, like mucking out the pigs. They’d go to the newsagent’s and enjoy choosing magazines or new stationery. And then Andrea hit her teens and started to shop with friends instead. She always invited Emma, but it was a kind of unwritten rule that Emma would say no. Andrea would make it up to her by playing a favourite board game when she returned. Or baking together when Emma wasn’t quite old enough to work the oven on her own.
‘Beginning to take shape, isn’t it?’ said Ted, nodding towards his shop.
The blackened walls had been scrubbed and the windows cleaned. A joiner’s van stood outside, along with an electrician’s.
‘That Stig’s been a godsend. He wouldn’t take payment for helping me redecorate upstairs, so I’ve promised him free cheese for life when we’re up and running.’
‘You might regret saying that. His dog is especially partial to a slice of Cheddar.’
‘No regrets – I can never pay him back enough. Or any of you who got us out that night. When I think about what could have happened…’ Ted’s hand cupped his bald head. ‘And remember, if you need any cheese for your soup run sandwiches, just call on me.’
Emma gave him a thumbs-up and moved on, spending time recalling past visits to the chemist, the hairdresser and the toy shop. Wrapped up in memories, she ended up at Healdbury stream. She took off her trainers and socks and paddled for a while, flexing her toes and inhaling sharply as the cool water washed over the top of her feet. She and Bligh would go there as children with brightly coloured nets to catch tiddlers. Gail always gave them strict instructions to throw back any fish straight away. Often they’d spot a majestic kingfisher, swooping across the water’s surface. In the spring, nothing pleased them more than watching a string of baby ducks paddling furiously to keep up with their mother. And in winter, they’d dare each other to stand on the frozen stream’s surface. Once it had cracked under Bligh’s weight and his right leg got soaked to the knee. Their sides had ached with laughter.
With a heavy heart, she went back through the town and past the supermarket, where Rita used to sit. Emma wondered how she was doing. And Tilly. There was no way of knowing. She’d have to keep her eyes peeled next time she went into the city – whenever that might be.
As she made her way up Broadgrass Hill, she recalled running up there with Bligh after school. In the winter, as a treat on a Friday, they’d stop off at the teashop and walk back sipping takeaway hot chocolates. In the summer, ice creams would be the order of the day, if their pocket money allowed it.
When she walked around Healdbury now, faces and shop windows reminded her of the better times, when Mum was well and she and Andrea were best buddies. She passed the lamp post where Dash most liked to pee and carried on up to the farm.
1 month before going back
It had been a busy day at the charity shop, ending with Emma giving in her notice. She entered the Quaker meeting house. The door creaked its familiar welcome. The floorboards groaned their approval as she walked in. How frightened she’d been of this place the first time she’d turned up. Now it felt like a friend. Somewhere she’d shared the best and the worst of times. A building that kept her secrets.
She turned right and ran her hand along the sage-green wall as she entered the bright room. It was almost eight. Most of her friends here knew she wouldn’t be attending meetings so regularly now – she would find somewhere closer to Healdbury – but she would always consider this her home group.
Old Len’s face cracked into a smile. Pushing himself up, he got to his feet. They hugged. He adjusted his glasses.
‘How are you today?’
‘Not bad,’ she said.
‘You haven’t drunk?’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
‘No!’
‘Then it’s a great day, never forget that. And never forget to keep connected to these rooms.’
‘You know me – like a bad penny, I keep turning up.’ She smiled and gave a thumbs-up, then gazed around the circle of faces, warmth spreading through her chest. She loved how the older members looked after those in new sobriety. Len never failed to remind her to keep doing everything she needed to in order to keep well. One year dry seemed like a long time to her, but to the old-timers she was still in a raw, unpredictable place. She waved at a couple of people and got squashed between several more pairs of arms. She congratulated someone on getting their degree; asked another member if her longed-for divorce had finally been granted.
She helped herself to a cup of coffee from the trolley and took her usual seat next to Rachel. Julie was chosen to chair the meeting. On the hour, she asked for quiet. She asked if there were any newcomers or visitors, and then nodded at Rachel, who read out her favourite inspirational pages from the Big Book. Then Julie proceeded to share her story. About twenty minutes later, she opened the meeting. No one spoke for a few moments.
Emma cleared her throat. ‘My name’s Emma and I’m an alcoholic.’
‘Hi, Emma,’ said everyone as they looked at her and smiled.
‘I’ll keep it short – it’s a big meeting tonight. It’s just… well… firstly I wanted to express my gratitude. A couple of us are coming up to our first sobriety birthday next month.’
