‘That’s your excuse this time. She always has an excuse,’ Hugo said to Julia. ‘She drinks too much, gets messy and then she wonders why I don’t want to be around her.’
‘If I do drink too much, it’s because you drive me to it!’ I retorted.
‘Okay, Maya, this isn’t the first time that Hugo has raised concerns about the effect that alcohol has on your behaviour. How often do you drink?’ Julia asked.
‘I have a couple of glasses of wine now and again. Hugo is making this out to be a bigger deal than it is.’
‘She drinks every night after she has put Elliot to bed.’
I shook my head angrily. ‘How would you know? You’re never home in the evenings.’
‘Stop denying it, Maya. Every night, when I get home, you’ve a glass of wine in your hand.’
‘Well, maybe lately, I have… but it’s only because our marriage has been so stressful.’
‘Do you think you have a problem with alcohol, Maya?’ Julia asked.
‘No!’ I exclaimed. ‘I like a glass or two to relax but I’m not an alcoholic.’
Julia turned to me. She brought her hands towards her chest, knuckles stuck together. ‘Maya, there is something inside you triggering this escapism. The next time you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine, I’d like you to ask yourself, “What feeling am I trying to numb here?” I want you to meet the feeling head-on. Usually, if you can identify the trigger, then you can find other ways to fill that need in yourself.’
‘I am on my own all day with our son. It can be really full-on and so when he goes to bed, I just want to relax. There’s nothing wrong with having a couple of glasses of wine after a stressful day,’ I said, barely concealing my frustration. Why was she going on like this? Like I was the one that had a problem! She made it sound like I needed to run straight out the door and find an AA meeting. ‘It’s really not that big a deal.’
‘Well, Hugo obviously feels it’s a big deal or he wouldn’t have raised the issue here tonight.’
‘He’s trying to deflect the blame onto me. This is what he does!’ I cried furiously.
‘The question you need to ask yourself, Maya, is whether your drinking is having a negative impact on your life?’
‘It’s not,’ I snapped.
Julia turned to my husband. ‘Would you agree, Hugo?’
He shook his head.
‘Look, Maya, there’s no judgement or blame here. I understand that your days caring for Elliot by yourself must bestressful, especially if you feel you’re not getting the support in your marriage from Hugo. Alcohol can be a form of stress relief but if Hugo feels it’s adding to the conflict in your marriage then maybe you need to think about that.’
‘It’s a coup—’ I cut in.
She put up her hand to stop me. ‘Let me finish, please, Maya. Perhaps you should really think about the conversation we’ve just had and whether there might be a grain of truth in what Hugo has said tonight.’
I looked across at Hugo and saw a smirk of satisfaction playing out across his features. It made me want to reach out and slap it off his smug face. He had managed to make Julia believe that I was the problem here instead of him. How could she not see through this charade? She was supposed to be a trained psychotherapist, for God’s sake!
‘Have you thought about cutting down then?’ Julia went on. ‘Perhaps keep it to the weekends rather than every evening,’ she suggested.
‘How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a drink problem,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘Okay, Maya. I can sense you’re upset so I think we should leave it there for tonight,’ Julia said.
‘Yes, we should,’ I agreed, just so that she would shut up. I knew there was no point arguing with her; the more I challenged her, the more she seemed to think I was in denial.
As I stood up to leave, I was trembling with fury. How dare she speak to me like this? It felt like they were both ganging up on me. This was Hugo’s fault; he was gaslighting me. Making me look like I had a problem when I didn’t.
23
LIV
When we got home after our counselling session, I was relieved to find my mother had already put Finn to bed. I was upset and knew I’d never hold it together if I saw his sweet, innocent face looking up at me. I kept my head down as I saw my mum out; I didn’t want her to notice my red-rimmed eyes. I went back inside to the living room where toys were scattered around the floor but I didn’t have the energy to tidy up and instead, I collapsed onto the couch while Jay made the tea. He returned with a mug in each hand and a packet of chocolate Hobnobs tucked beneath his elbow. As he approached the couch, he hesitated momentarily, as if thinking about where to sit, then sat beside me but not as close as he usually did and I hated the distance that this was putting between us.
