‘What are you doing?’
‘Trying to sniff out whether you’ve had a hair of the dog or not.’
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. It was bloody freezing out here and he wasn’t far off closing the door in her face.
‘I didn’t drink last night, Gio. I haven’t broken my sobriety.’
But he wasn’t buying it, not this time. And now he was shivering, which made his knee feel worse.
‘Can I come in? Just for a bit, so we can talk.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Gio, please.’
‘I’ve had a gutful, Mum. I’ve given you chance after chance and I can’t do it any more. And you don’t need to keep up the pretence for Marco and the kids because when I tell him what’s happened, he won’t want to come within a hundred metres of you.’
He felt terrible when he saw her gulp back tears but he couldn’t ignore what she’d done. Not this time.
For once, instead of bawling her eyes out and apologising, she kept talking. ‘Please, hear me out, five minutes and if you’re not happy with what I’ve got to say, I’ll leave. You never have to see me again.’
Something about the finality of her words had him opening the door wider. ‘You’d better come in then.’
He didn’t go through to the lounge to make her feel welcome; he did it so he could sit down after his gruelling physio session, which had been harder than usual because he’d pushed himself to the edge.
‘I promise you I did not touch a drop last night, Gio.’
‘You were in a pub. Bess was wasted.’
‘Yes… Besswaswasted.’
‘So were you when you called.’
Her brows knitted together. ‘How do you work that out? I barely spoke to you before the landlord took the phone when Bess fell over.’
‘I heard it in your voice.’ Her asking the question had him remembering nothing more than a fragmented call from his mother. But that still didn’t change the fact she’d been in the pub. ‘How’s the ankle?’
‘I think I twisted it a bit last night. Bess pulled me over outside the pub. I was careful today when I walked, took it slowly, it seems okay.’
‘You walked here?’
‘I can’t afford a taxi, Gio. And I missed the bus and didn’t want to wait for the next.’
He harrumphed. The sooner this conversation was over, the better.
‘I called you last night because I don’t have a credit card, I’mdown to my last fifteen pounds in my bank account until my pay comes in, and I didn’t know what else to do. Bess had no money, her card was refused, I had to get her home safely.’
‘So you need more money?’
‘What? No. I don’t need you to give me money.’
‘Then what do you want?’
‘I told you, I need to explain the events of last night because you think I fell off the wagon and I didn’t. Gio, this time you are wrong. I didn’t go to the pubwithBess last night; I went to get her. She called me, she was drunk, she wanted me to go and join her. I said no but then she got upset.’
‘So you’re a saint, is that what you’re telling me?’
She stood up then, the most miffed he’d seen her in a long time. ‘You know what, Gio? Getting sober was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I could really use the support. Okay, so my track record is dire, but I swear to you this is it, no going back. Do you realise how hard it was to go into a pub of all places?’
