The Return
James climbed the narrow staircase into the courtyard. The basement of the block of flats had been converted into a workshop for repairing office equipment, where hed worked for the past two months. The sky was overcast with grey clouds, but it wasnt raining. For October, the weather was unusually mild. It was already growing dark, though it was only five in the evening.
He didnt own a car and only took the bus in bad weather. James shrugged and walked out of the yard. He used to work in IT, earning decent money, with a family to support. But after a string of absurd and tragic events, he lost them allstarted drinking, lost his job An old university mate took him on at his repair shop to fix computers.
James drank, showed up late, sometimes didnt come in at all. Today, Simon had told him that even though James was a naturalcapable of outworking any sober technicianhis patience wasnt endless. If James carried on like this, hed have to let him go. James knew he was spiralling, heading for rock bottom. And it terrified him. If Simon fired him, where would he go?
The streetlights flickered on as dusk settled. His body screamed for a drink, his jaw aching with the craving. But as he passed cafés, shops, and pubs, James kept his eyes forward, shoulders hunched, marching on. Hed hold out. He had tohed promised Simon.
He didnt consider himself an alcoholic, but he couldnt last more than two days without a drink. Nights were the worst. Without alcohol, sleep was impossible.
There was the little corner shop he often stopped at on his way home. Better to buy a small bottle there than a full one at the supermarketexcept he knew it wouldnt stop at one. Hed bump into someone, stay until he was wasted, then wake up with a splitting headache and crushing guilt. After hesitating, James walked on.
See? Hed managed. He almost felt like a hero. Until the next pub came into view.
His flat was just ahead. One last shop stood in his way. James halted in front of the bright window display. Shelves of bottles glinted inside, calling to him like a lighthouse through fog.
His feet moved on their own, carrying him toward the door. But halfway there, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, clenched his fists, and hurried past.
«You could still turn back,» a desperate voice whispered in his mind. James broke into a run, breath ragged. Only when the buildings door clicked shut behind him did he stop to gasp for air.
He rarely came home sober, so stepping into his bachelor hovel, he recoiled at the mess.
The fridge was nearly emptya tin of sardines, a stale quarter-loaf, and a hardened lump of cheese. He shouldve gone shopping, bought pasta and eggs, but then hed have caved and bought a bottle. Fine. He wouldnt starve.
To distract himself until the shops closed, he cleaned. Tossed scattered clothes into the washing machine, scrubbed dishes, wiped the crumb-covered table, then mopped the floor. It helped, but the scent of laundry detergent couldnt mask the lingering stench of alcohol and cigarettes.
He checked the time. He could still make it to the shop ten times overwouldnt even need to put on a coat. But Simons stern face flashed in his mind. James went to the window.
The building opposite glowed with yellow squares of light. He imagined families gathered around kitchen tables a couple on their sofa watching TV, their son pretending to study while listening to music through headphones just like James had done as a teenager.
A wave of loneliness hit him so hard he nearly howled.
The washing machine beeped. James hung the laundry, drank tea with the dried-out cheese, and watched the clock tick toward closing time. Ten minutes left. He could still make it Instead, he picked up his phone and dialled his ex-wife.
«James, I told you not to call in the evenings.»
«Nice to hear your voice too. Put Emily on.»
«Are you drunk? Shes asleep.»
«Im sober.»
A sigh crackled down the line.
«Sober up first. Dont call again. And leave Emily alone. Shes just starting to get used to David»
He wanted to say David wasnt her father, that she was *his* daughter, that he missed herbut the line went dead.
Strange that Lucy hadnt blocked his number. It gave him a fragile hope. Womens «no» often meant «maybe.»
James made the bed with fresh sheets and lay down, knowing sleep wouldnt come. The craving gnawed at him, but he had nothing left
***
Hed met Lucy at university. She was a year below him. One day in the canteen, shed asked to skip the queue. He didnt mind. She saved him a seat, watching him with interest. Back then, hed been top of his class, the lecturers golden boy.
They started dating. James helped with her coursework, even wrote her dissertation.
«Why did you pick this degree? Shouldve chosen something easier. How will you work in this field?» hed often ask.
«Youll be the one working. Ill stay home with the baby,» shed laughed.
Thats how he found out she was pregnant. She was a good cook, practical. James didnt mind marrying. In time, their daughter Emily was born.
When she started nursery, Lucy got a job as a PA at a construction firm, putting her computer skills to use. She dressed well, wore makeup. Sometimes James saw her being dropped off by car.
«I want to buy a car,» shed said once.
James wanted one too but couldnt afford it. Hed taken on debts to buy their flatno room for luxuries.
While he paid them off, his mum died. They rented out her flat, but Lucy took out a loan for a car. James snapped.
«Im tired, James. Tired of scraping by I cant live like this,» Lucy had shouted.
«Is there someone else?» hed asked bluntly.
«Yes. Im sorry, but I have to think of Emily»
Oh? And he didnt? Hed slammed the door and left. Thank God he had somewhere to gohis mums flat was empty. Glad he hadnt sold it, like Lucy had wanted. Alone, the nights were unbearable. He drank to numb the pain.
He tortured himself, imagining another man in his placedrinking from his mug, sleeping in his bed Had she ever loved him? Just used him for his brains? So he drank to forget. Then he lost his job
***
James did sleep eventually. He dreamt of wandering through fog, trying to call out but mute, lost. Then a voice: «James!» But Lucy only ever used his surname. He woke with a jolt, heart pounding.
It took him a moment to remember where he was. He gave up on sleep, chain-smoking in the kitchenone perk of being single. Lucy wouldve banished him to the stairwell.
Simon raised an eyebrow at his early arrival, sniffing the air.
«I didnt drink,» James said. «Can I take a long lunch?»
«Thirsty already?» Simon frowned.
«I want to see my daughter. Before she forgets me completely.»
«Fine. But youll make up the time.»
James agreed.
He sat on a bench in the school playground, watching the gates. Didnt dare go closerdidnt want to run into David, who always looked at him like he was dirt.
No cars today. Kids streamed out, but no Emily. Had she fallen ill? Then he spotted her pink coat. He jumped up, wavingbut a black SUV pulled up, blocking his view. Suddenly uneasy, he darted around the car.
The rear door was open. A flash of pink. A hooded man slammed the doorJames thrust out his hand. The impact crushed his fingers, pain exploding up his arm.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
«Dad!» Emily shoved the door open, tumbling onto him. The SUV screeched away, clipping his thigh.
He sat on the wet tarmac, his hand throbbing, heavy as concrete.
«Broad daylight»
«Call the police!»
«Some bloke tried to take herhe stopped it!»
«Daddy» Emily sobbed into his shoulder.
Voices blurred like cotton in his ears.
An ambulance took them to hospital. Emily mustve called Lucy, because when he came out of surgery, they were waiting.
«Dad!» Emily clung to him.
«Did you break anything?» Lucy asked.
«Just bruised.»
«Thank you. If you hadnt been there» Lucys voice cracked.
«I told Mum everything,» Emily said.
«David was supposed to pick her up. If Id known»
«Its okay. Shes safe.» James reached for her, but Lucy stepped back.
«Well drive you home.»
In the backseat, Emily frowned at his bandaged hand. «Does it hurt?»
«Not much.»
«How will you work?» Lucy glanced at him in the mirror. Hed have cut off the hand just to keep her looking at him like thatnot with the usual ice.
At his flat, he offered to collect Emily from school.
«Well manage,» Lucy said, driving off.
But that evening, she called. «Can you cook with that hand? Ill bring food tomorrow.»
Pity was the last thing he wanted. «Dont bother. Ill cope.»
She paused. «Actually if youre free, could you meet Emily at noon?»
*What about David?* James bit his tongue.
Next morning, he went to the workshop without calling. Simon took one look at his swollen fingers and sent him home.
James waited by the school gates, not hiding.
«Mum and Uncle David had a huge fight yesterday,» Emily chattered on the walk home. «Dad are you coming back?»
«What about Uncle David?»
«Mum kicked him out. He wasnt at a meetinghe was with his girlfriend. I heard her say it. Shes not home yet, come on.» Emily tugged him inside.
It was the first time hed stepped into the flat since leaving. Nothing had changed muchjust little things. A new kettle.
«The old one broke. Mum bought this. Im glad Uncle Davids gone. I didnt like him.»
Sitting in his old seat felt surreal, like he was a guest.
He helped Emily with homework, losing track of time until the front door clicked.
Lucy didnt seem surprised to see him. «Dinners soon,» she said, vanishing into the kitchen.
They ate together, just like before. James felt like hed returned from a long trip, another life.
«Finished your homework?» Lucy asked Emily.
«Dad helped.»
«I should go.» James stood. «Dinner was great.»
Lucy rose too. They stood awkwardly, avoiding each others eyes.
«Its late. Stay on the sofa.»
He lay stiffly, afraid to move. Lucy seemed awake too, eerily still.
In the morning, she and Emily were getting ready.
«Why are you up? Youre not working,» Lucy said. «Emily finishes at one. Meet her then.»
James wandered the flat, ate the sandwiches Lucy left, washed up despite the pain.
Yesterday, hed seen Davids toothbrush. Today, only two stood in the holder: Emilys pink one, Lucys green. Had she thrown the third away? Like shed thrown his out when he left.
He wanted to stay. What if she told him to go? Should he leave first? What if she didnt? That word again*if*. If she let him stay, hed crawl through fire, stay sober, find better work. He was good at what he did.
In his jeans, he found a crumpled tenner. He bought a bouquet of pale pink roses.
Lucy noticed but said nothing. She didnt speak much at all. Not kicking him out was enough. He still slept on the sofa. But at dinner, she started talking about work, like old times.
«Does the receptionist still fancy the boss?» James ventured.
«She quit. The new girls nice.»
It felt so good, the three of them at the table. James realised he hadnt thought about drinking once since coming back. The craving was gone.
Maybe things could mend. He wasnt drinking, and Lucy wasnt pushing him away. Hed do anything to earn her trust again. The days slipped into weeks. James kept showing up at the school gate, hand healed enough to wave properly. Lucy still didnt say much, but she stopped flinching when he spoke. One evening, she placed a second mug of tea on the tablehis favourite chipped one, long thought lost. He didnt mention it. Just held the warmth between his palms and watched Emily scribble stories about a dad who saved the day. The workshop calledSimon needed him back full-time. James hesitated, then said yes. He walked to work the next morning, the autumn air sharp but clean, and for the first time in years, he didnt look over his shoulder.
