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W: OK. Fine. I’d had a few.

H: And it made the whole conversation unreasonable.That’s my point.

W: You hung up on me. You actually hung up on me.

H: Yep. I did. But not today. Today I’m still here. See the difference?

W: OK. Yes, I see the difference.

H: Drinking makes you angry. That’s the thing, Wendy. And being angry makes you drink. You think it helps, but it doesn’t.

W: …

H: You still there?

W: Yes. Still here.

H: You’re crying. Honey… God. Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.

W: It’s OK. I’m fine. I’m just… You know… A bit brittle, today. But I’m fine.

H: Good. Because I really want that. I really want you to be fine again.

W: I’ve been trying to think about it all, you know. I really have. About the drinking, I mean, and us, and everything else. I think I’ve worked out when it started, at least. I think it was the damned pandemic.

H: OK.

W: I think the pandemic made me so angry. Because of my job. And I didn’t know how to deal with all that… anger. You know? So I started drinking just so I could breathe again. Because otherwise I thought I might explode.

H: …

W: You’ve gone quiet now. What’s that about?

H: Do you really want to know what I think?

W: Yes. You know I do.

H: No, I’m not sure that I do know that. Because I’ve tried to talk to you about this countless times, Wens. And that conversation has never gone well.

W: You have?

H: Hundreds of times. Well, tens, at any rate.

W: Well, I don’t… I mean… OK, if you say so. But that doesn’t really… match… my experience, if that makes any sense. But, go on.

H: It didn’t start with the pandemic. You’re wrong.

W: It didn’t?

H: No. It got worse during the pandemic. But Covid wasn’t the start.

W: But?—

H: It started when your mum died, Wens. I’m sorry, but I’m absolutely certain of that.

W: …

H: Really. Think about it and you’ll see I’m right.