Fiction, Legacy, Mental Health

Mummy’s Passed Out On The Bathroom Floor

I started drinking when Amber was a toddler. We weren’t on a budget which meant the drinks cabinet was full of spirits and wine. When she had an afternoon nap I wanted to relax…

“OK Hunny. I’m off now, back on Friday. Are you going to be OK, Ruth?”

My husband walks over and takes me in his arms.

“Sure Mike. Come on. It’s only five days. It will be alright. We’ll be fine. Amber has gymnastics tomorrow, Bella’s birthday party on Wednesday and swimming on Thursday. And I will have to be her chauffeur.” I rest my head on his shoulder for a moment.

“Well Ruth, you know how much I love to ferry her around when I’m working from home. It’s fun. I can’t believe she’s seven. Growing up fast.”

Mike steps back from our embrace, puts his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes continues, “Not too old for a new brother or sister. Perfect timing now you are… erm… better.”

“Just say it Mike. The word is sober. I am not better. Alcoholics are only ever in recovery.” I turn and face the dressing room mirror. Catching his eye while I brush my hair. “And we’ve talked about the baby thing… Amber is very special to me. I have a lot of love for her. And for you. I can’t share that any further.”

“Enough said. I’ll call this evening to let you know I’ve arrived safely.” Mike turns me round and kisses my forehead before leaving. Always the loving husband.

As soon as I hear the car engine fade into the distance, I slump down in the bedroom chair, put my head back and let out a long, deep sigh.

“I can do it.” I whisper reassuring myself.

I look at my watch. Only eleven am. I could make the gym by twelve and then see if Cindy wants to meet for a one thirty lunch at Giovanni’s.

Grabbing my phone I send her a quick msg… She replies instantly…

“It’s been a while Ruth. Great 2 hear from u. See u at half one x”

As I drive to the gym I feel free. First time in ages.

Mike had taken to working from home over a year ago to help me look after Amber.

He made this decision after arriving back from the office one evening to find our daughter — having successfully opened a tin of baked beans — cooking her own tea. While I, her worthless, good for nothing mother, was laid out next to the toilet, face down in my own vomit.

Apparently Amber had looked up from stirring her beans and said, “Daddy. Thank goodness you’re home. Mummy’s asleep on the bathroom floor. She doesn’t smell too good. But I covered her up with my Winnie the Poo blanket to keep her warm anyhow.”

When this incident happened I’d been hiding my disorder for more than a few years.

My mother had died suddenly when I was pregnant. We’d been close and I was looking forward to her helping me with a baby. Teaching me. Instead, I received a large legacy. Mike and I were able to move to a very comfortable property. I gave up my PA position immediately. After all we were rich. But I was still grieving. Having money removed many worries but I didn’t really take to motherhood.

I started drinking when Amber was a toddler. We weren't on a budget which meant the drinks cabinet was full of spirits and wine. When she had an afternoon nap I wanted to relax and often celebrated with a vodka and tonic. Things escalated quickly. I was trying to be the ideal wife and mother, forgetting to look after myself, and quickly lost all sense of who I was.

Depression and despair filled my head. When I was drinking things didn’t seem as bad.

By the time Amber began school I had bottles hidden all around the house — to make sure Mike wouldn’t notice any going missing — and advanced to taking my first swig of the day in the morning, instead of cleaning my teeth.

I always thought my husband knew and just ignored what was going on. He seemed to enjoy picking up after me. Righting my wrongs. Being my knight in shining armour. And so, realising his wife was a complete and utterly useless drunk, he just added another string to his bow — that of the perfect father.

I endured intensive treatment for a month at a live-in detox unit. It was hell at first. I suffered really badly. The shakes, vomiting, profuse sweating and a feeling of doom. Like nothing would ever be right in my world again.

But when it was time to go home I felt extremely grateful to be alive.

The last year’s not been easy. Mike hardly ever leaves my side. It’s suffocating. I know he means well but his behaviour makes me feel like a child who needs supervision every moment of the day. For fuck’s sake, I’m a responsible adult. Yes that’s me!

I enjoy my work-out and after a quick shower set off to meet Cindy. I haven’t seen her since… since before the clinic. We would have a lot to catchup on.

In the restaurant I spy her at a corner table and hurry over, eager to give one of my oldest friends a hug.

“Wow, you look great, Ruth. Love the new hair colour.”

I shake my very expensively styled locks back and we hug. “Great to see you darling. It’s been a tough few years.”

I sit down opposite her ready to explain why I hadn’t been in touch when…

“I took the liberty of ordering a couple of large glasses of Muscadet. I remember it’s your lunchtime favourite.” She smiles at me.

At that moment the waiter arrives and places the wine down on the table with some focaccia, olives and balsamic vinegar.

“Oh Cindy, I… well it’s early. I have to pick up Amber in two hours.” Looking down at the pale golden fluid suddenly all thoughts of telling my friend about my ordeal dissolved.

“Ruth, just the one will be fine. For old time’s sake. We certainly have a few colourful memories to look back on… And the bread, well — that will soak up the alcohol. Cheers darling.”

Cindy raises her glass in anticipation of me doing the same. It would be rude to rebuff her gesture. After all it is only the one.

We clink glasses and I slowly take a mouthful. To be honest it tastes a little sharp. But after a few more sips my pulse quickens, and I feel more alive than I have in ages.

“What were you going to tell me Ruth? Something important about why you’ve been extra busy?”

Taking another gulp of nectar I reply, “Oh nothing really. Just Amber growing up so fast. Tell me about you. How’s Gerry?”

We chat, and I leave as planned at 3pm. Just enough time to grab a bottle of Smirnoff from Tesco’s before picking my daughter up from school.

But luckily on this occasion I actually manage to make Amber her supper before passing out on the living room couch.

The phone rings…

“Hello Daddy. No, she can’t. She’s resting on the sofa, like she used to do. But don’t worry, I’ll cover her up with my Winnie the Poo blanket so she doesn’t get cold.”

Written for this prompt — Legacy from Posy Churchgate

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