This Could Change Everything(89)

‘Still not happening.’

‘Is it because I’m with you? You don’t want her to meet me? That’s not a problem either,’ she babbled on. ‘You can drop me in the middle of Carlisle for a few hours, pick me up later.’

Lucas was feeling sick now. Why in God’s name had he told her in the first place? He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and realised he needed to explain some of it, at least.

After several seconds of silence, he said slowly, ‘It’s more a matter of not wanting you to meet her.’

Essie looked blank. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘She wouldn’t want to see me either.’

‘But . . . why not?’

‘Because she never does want to see me. And when I do turn up, she can’t get rid of me fast enough.’

‘Why?’ Essie’s voice had softened, and Lucas knew he was going to have to tell her everything.

He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead as he spoke. ‘Mum’s an alcoholic. She can’t cope with the world and all she cares about is her next drink. She never got over losing Dad, and alcohol became her way of getting through it. And she knows I hate seeing what she’s done to herself, which is why she’d rather not see me at all. The last time I drove up, she locked herself inside the house and refused to open the door. And yes, I’ve tried everything I could, for years. But the fact that I wanted her to get help didn’t do any good.’ His voice cracked with emotion, which was the last thing he wanted to happen while they were travelling down the motorway. ‘Because it’s not my feelings that count. It has to come from her. She has to want to do it, but she just can’t. It’s been going on for too long now. To be honest, it’s a miracle she’s still alive.’





Chapter 43


‘OK, get off the motorway,’ Essie ordered. ‘Let me take over.’

The slip road was up ahead. Once Lucas had pulled into a lay-by, they switched seats. Essie then deliberately turned off the engine and faced him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Believe me, you aren’t the reason I got upset.’ Lucas uncapped his bottle of water and took a long swallow, then looked at her. ‘So anyway, that’s it. Now you know.’

‘Do you wish you hadn’t told me?’

‘No, I’m glad I have.’ It was true; he already felt less burdened.

‘So it was both of them, your mum and your uncle Max.’

‘He was first. For the first couple of years, he was the one drinking his way through what had happened, and the ironic thing was, Mum hated it. She couldn’t bear to see what he was doing to himself. She despised him for it, told him he was being selfish and weak. Then she started drinking too. Like it was some kind of competition. When I asked her why she was doing it, she said it helped her to stop thinking and remembering. She said it was a distraction and helped with the pain.’

‘Do you speak to her on the phone?’ said Essie.

Lucas nodded. ‘I do. I call her every week, and every week she gets upset and apologises, and tells me she can’t see me.’

‘Is she always drunk when you call?’

‘I’ve learned the best time to do it. Well, I’ve had plenty of practice. Around midday, she’s had a couple of drinks to get the shakes under control, but not so many that she can’t hold a conversation. So that’s when we talk. As soon as I put the phone down, I know she’ll make a start on the gin. And it won’t stop until . . . well, until she’s completely paralytic.’

‘What’s her liver like?’

Lucas grimaced. ‘It’s not something she ever discusses with me, but I imagine it’s like a football about to explode.’

‘She could die,’ said Essie.

He took another gulp of cold water. ‘Yes.’

‘It’s only one o’clock.’

‘Are you about to start nagging me?’

‘Of course I am.’ Essie pointed to the road sign ahead of them. ‘We’re here. I think you should at least try to see her, even if it’s just for a few minutes.’

‘She’ll push me away.’

‘She might not.’

Lucas held out his hand. ‘Will you give me the key?’

‘No.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because she’s your mum,’ said Essie. ‘And she might be dead soon.’

Lucas made a gesture of defeat. ‘Fine, but she doesn’t want to see me. Fifteen minutes from now, I’ll be saying “I told you so”.’

It didn’t take long to reach the small estate on the outskirts of Carlisle. Lucas directed Essie and she drove, reassuring him and telling him he was doing the right thing. He knew better, but never mind; now that he’d told her the whole story, her eventual reaction was no longer his problem.

‘OK, take the next left,’ he said as they approached Pargeter Close. ‘The house is down here on the right, past that blue van. Now pull up . . . that’s it—’ His words abruptly died in his throat as they passed the van and he saw his mother out in the front garden, throwing something into the recycling bin.

Bottles, probably.

‘There she is. You stay here.’ He hopped out of the car, called, ‘Hi, Mum,’ and raised a hand in greeting, as casually as if they saw each other every day.