**The Return**
Oliver trudged up the narrow staircase from the basement workshop where hed spent the last two months fixing office equipment. The sky hung grey and heavy, but at least it wasnt raining. Warm for October, really. Already getting dark, thoughonly five in the evening.
No car, obviously. Buses were for bad weather. Oliver shrugged and walked on. Once, hed been an IT whiz, earning decent money, with a family. Then came the stupid, tragic domino effectlost the family, started drinking, lost the job. His old uni mate Simon took pity and gave him work fixing computers in this dingy shop.
Oliver drank. Showed up late. Sometimes not at all. Today, Simon had said, *Look, mate, youre bloody brilliant at this, even half-cut. But Ive got limits. Keep this up, and youre out.* Oliver knew he was teetering on the edge. Simon booted him, and then what?
Streetlights flickered on. His body screamed for a drink, jaw clenched with craving. Passing cafés, corner shops, pubshe averted his eyes, hunched his shoulders, and marched on. Hed promised Simon. He could do this.
Oliver didnt think he was an alcoholic. Two days dry was his max, though. Nights were worst. Without a drink, sleep was impossible.
Therehis usual greasy spoon, where hed often stopped for a quick one. Better a swift pint here than a whole bottle at home. Except it was never *just* a pint. Hed bump into someone, stay till he was legless, wake up with a head like a wrecking ball and a guilt hangover. He hesitatedthen walked on.
*Ha. Did it. Maybe Im not hopeless.* Almost heroic, really. Till the next pub loomed.
His flat wasnt far now. One last off-license. Oliver paused outside its bright window, shelves of bottles glowing like a lighthouse in fog.
His feet moved on their own. Halfway to the door, he veered off, stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, clenched his fists, and power-walked past.
*You could still turn back,* hissed the voice in his head. Oliver broke into a run, breath ragged. Only when his buildings door slammed behind him did he stop, gasping.
He rarely came home sober. Tonight, his bachelor dens mess horrified him.
The fridge was bleak: a tin of tuna, a half-stale loaf, and cheese hard enough to hammer nails. Shouldve grabbed pasta and eggsbut then hed have caved and bought vodka. Ah well, he wouldnt starve.
To distract himself till the shops closed, he cleaned. Tossed laundry in, scrubbed sticky plates, mopped. Better. But the lemon-fresh detergent couldnt mask the stench of booze and fags.
He checked the clock. Ten trips to the shop still possiblecould even go in pyjamas. Then Simons warning glare flashed in his mind. Oliver wandered to the window.
The building opposite glowed with cosy yellow squares. Families at dinner tables, couples curled on sofas watching telly, kids pretending to study while secretly texting. Hed done that as a teen.
A wave of loneliness hit so hard he nearly howled.
The washing machine beeped. He hung the laundry, forced down tea with crusty cheese. Still ten minutes till closing. He could make it Instead, he dialled his ex-wife.
*Oliver, I told you not to call evenings.*
*Lovely to hear you too. Put Sophie on.*
*Are you drunk? Shes asleep.*
*No. Sober.*
A sigh. *Sleep it off. And dont call again. Sophies adjusting to Daniel*
He wanted to say Daniel wasnt Sophies dad, that he missed herbut the line went dead.
Odd she hadnt blocked him yet. That tiny hope: maybe not all lost. Womens *no* often meant *maybe*.
He made the sofa bed, lay staring at the ceiling. Knew he wouldnt sleep. Craved oblivion. Had nothing.
***
Hed met Lucy at uni. A year below. Shed cut in front at the canteen once. Hed let her. She saved him a seat, eyed him curiously. Back then, he was goldentop marks, lecturers pet.
They dated. He helped with her essays, even wrote her dissertation.
*Whyd you pick this degree? Shouldve done something girly. Howll you work?*
*Youll work. Ill mind the baby,* shed laughed.
Thats how he learned she was pregnant. She cooked well, kept house. Marriage seemed fine. Baby Sophie arrived on schedule.
When Sophie started nursery, Lucy got a job at a construction firmPA to the director. Dressed sharper, wore makeup. Sometimes Oliver saw cars drop her off.
*I want a car,* shed said once.
So did he. But the flats mortgage swallowed his salary. Then his mum died. They rented her place out. Lucy took a loan for the car. He blew up.
*Oliver, Im tired of scrimping. I cant live like this.*
*Found someone else?*
*Yes. Sorry. But Sophie deserves*
*Oh, and I dont?* He slammed out. Thank God for Mums flat.
Alone, evenings were unbearable. Drink numbed it. Then it numbed everything. Lost his job.
***
He did sleep, dreaming of fog, shouting silently. A voice called, *Oliver!* But Lucy only used his surname. He woke, heart hammering.
Took a moment to remember where he was. Gave up on sleep, sat chain-smoking in the kitchen. Silver lining of single lifeLucy wouldve banished him to the stairwell.
Simon raised an eyebrow at his early arrival, sniffed.
*Havent been drinking. Can I nip out at lunch?*
*That desperate for a pint?*
*Want to see Sophie. Before she forgets me.*
Simon agreed, grudgingly.
Oliver waited on a bench by the school gates. Didnt dare go closerno run-ins with Daniel, who looked at him like something scraped off a shoe.
No sign of Sophie. Was she ill? Thenpink coat. He jumped up, waved. A black SUV pulled up, blocking his view. His stomach lurched. Whyd it stop?
He sprinted around the car. Saw the open door. A flash of pink. A hooded guy slamming itOliver jammed his hand in. The door crushed it. White-hot pain.
*Dad!* Sophie shoved the door, tumbling onto him. The SUV screeched off, clipping his hip.
He sat on wet tarmac, hand throbbing, weirdly heavy, like concrete.
*Broad daylight*
*Call the police*
*Drunk, probably*
*Some bloke tried to grab her*
*Daddy!* Sophie sobbed into his ear.
Voices sounded muffled, distant.
An ambulance took them to hospital. Sophie mustve called Lucy, because when he emerged, bandaged, they rushed to him.
*Dad!* Sophie clung to him.
*Break it?* Lucy asked.
*Just bruised. X-ray clear.*
*Thank you. If you hadnt* Lucys voice cracked.
*Told Mum everything,* Sophie said.
*Daniel was supposed to collect her. If Id known*
*Salright. Shes safe.* He tried to hug Lucy. She stiffened.
*Well drive you home,* she said.
In the backseat, Sophie eyed his bandaged fingers. *Does it hurt?*
*Nah.*
*How will you work?* Lucy glanced back, worried. Hed have chopped the hand off for that looknot her usual ice.
At his flat, he offered to fetch Sophie from school.
*Well manage,* Lucy said, driving off.
But that evening, she called. *Cant cook with that hand. Ill bring soup tomorrow.*
*Dont need pity.*
*Suit yourself.*
*Actually could you meet Sophie at noon?*
*What about Daniel?* He bit his tongue.
Next morning, he went to the shop. Simon took one look at his swollen fingers and sent him home.
Oliver waited openly at the school gates.
*Mum and Daniel had a huge row,* Sophie chattered. *Dad are you coming home?*
*What about Daniel?*
*Mum kicked him out. He wasnt at a meetinghe was with his girlfriend. I heard. Shes not home yet, come on.* She dragged him inside.
First time back since the split. Same, mostly. New kettle.
*Old one died. Daniels gone. Good. I hated him.*
Weird, sitting in his old spot, feeling like a guest.
He helped with homework. Only the front doors slam snapped him back to reality.
Lucy didnt seem surprised to see him. *Dinner soon,* she said, vanishing into the kitchen.
They ate like old times. Like hed slipped back from some parallel universe.
*Homework done?* Lucy asked.
*Dad helped.*
*I should go,* Oliver said.
Lucy stood too. They hovered, avoiding each others eyes.
*Stay. Its late. Sofas made up.*
He lay rigid, fearing hed wake her. She was too stillprobably awake too.
Morning: Lucy and Sophie rushing out.
*Why up so early? Youre not working,* Lucy said. *Fetch Sophie at one.*
He mooched around, ate their leftover toast, washed upwincing.
Yesterday, Daniels toothbrush was in the bathroom. Today, just two: Sophies pink one, Lucys green. Had she binned the third? Like shed binned his.
God, he wanted to stay. What if she told him to leave? Should he go pre-emptively? What if she didnt? Back to *what-ifs*. If she let him stay, hed crawl over broken glass. No more drink. Get a proper job. He was good at this stuff.
In his jeans: a fiver. He bought pale pink carnations from the corner shop.
Lucy noticed. Said nothing. Didnt kick him out, though. He still slept on the sofa. But at dinner, she started chatting about work. Like before.
*Secretary still jealous of the boss?* he dared ask.
*She quit. The new girls nice.*
How good, thiseating together. Odd: since crashing here, he hadnt craved a drink. Not once.
Maybe things could mend. Hed stay sober, earn her trust. Keep renting Mums flat
