The Return
Gore climbed the narrow stairs 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 last two months. The sky was smothered in grey, but no rain fell. For October, the weather was unusually mild. Darkness was already creeping in, though it was only five in the evening.
He didnt own a car, only taking the bus in foul weather. Gore shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the yard. He used to work in IT and earned well, once had a family. But after a string of absurd and tragic events, he lost them, started drinking, then his job An old university mate took him on in his little repair shop, fixing computers.
Gore drank, turned up late, even skipped work entirely. Today, Simon had told him that though he was a naturalcould fix anything better drunk than most could sobereven his patience had limits. If Gore kept it up, hed have to let him go. Gore knew he was slipping, spiralling downward. And it terrified him. If Simon kicked him out, where would he go?
The dark came swiftly, streetlights flickering on. His body screamed for a drink, his jaw clenching with the craving. Passing cafés, shops, pubs and takeaways, Gore kept his eyes fixed ahead, shoulders hunched, hurrying on. Hed hold out. He *could*. Hed promised Simon hed stop.
He didnt think of himself as an alcoholic, but two days was his limit without a drink. Nights were the worst. Without it, sleep was impossible.
Therethe little takeaway he often ducked into on his way home. Better to nip in for a quick half-pint here than buy a whole bottle at the shop and down it alone. Except he knew it wouldnt stop at a half. Hed bump into some mate, and next thing, hed be flat-out drunk. Wake up with a splitting head, a gut full of regret. After wavering, he walked on.
Therehed done it. Maybe he *could*. Gore felt almost heroic. Until the next pub loomed ahead.
His building was in sight now. Just one last off-licence. He paused before its bright window, shelves of bottles stacked inside like beacons in fog, pulling at him.
His feet moved toward the door on their own. Halfway there, he veered off, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Clenched his fists, literally, and scurried past.
*You could still turn back*, a voice hissed in his skull. Gore broke into a jog, breath ragged. Only when the stairwell door clicked shut behind him did he stop, gasping.
Rarely did he come home sober, so stepping into his bachelors den, the mess horrified him.
The fridge was bare: a tin of sardines, a stale quarter-loaf, a wedge of cheese gone hard. Shouldve grabbed pasta, eggsbut then hed have bought a bottle too. Ah well, he wouldnt starve.
To distract himself until the shops closed, he cleaned. Tossed clothes into the washer, scrubbed dishes, wiped the crumb-strewn table sticky with old spills, mopped the floors. Better, but the laundry gel couldnt mask the stale reek of booze and smoke.
Gore checked the time. He could still make a dash for the shop ten times over, barely needed to dress. Then Simons stern face flashed in his mindthe warning look. Gore went to the window.
The building opposite glowed with yellow-lit squares. He imagined a family gathered around a kitchen table A couple on the sofa watching telly, their son in the next room pretending to study, music blasting through headphones Just like hed done as a boy
A wave of loneliness hit so hard he nearly howled.
The washer beeped. Gore hung the laundry, drank tea with the rock-hard cheese. The clock still showed ten minutes till closing. He could make it Instead, he dialled his wife.
*Gore, I told you not to call in the evenings.*
*Lovely to hear you too. Put Sophie on.*
*Are you drunk? Shes been asleep for hours.*
*No. Sober.*
A sigh crackled down the line.
*Sleep it off. And dont call again. Dont upset Sophie. Shes just starting to warm to David*
He wanted to say David wasnt her father, that she was *his* girl, that he missed herbut the line went dead.
Strange that Lucy hadnt blocked his number yet. That fragile hopemaybe not all was lost. Everyone knew a womans *no* often meant *maybe*.
Gore made up the sofa with fresh sheets, lay down knowing sleep wouldnt come. The craving gnawed at him, but there was nothing left
***
Hed met Lucy at uni. She was a year below. One day in the canteen, shed asked to skip the queue. Hed let her. Shed saved him a seat, eyeing him with interest. Back then, hed been top of his class, the lecturers golden boy.
They started dating. Gore helped with her essays, even wrote her dissertation.
*Whyd you pick this degree? Shouldve gone for something girly. Howll you work in this field?*
*Youll be the one working. Ill be home with the baby*, Lucy had laughed. Thats how hed learned she was pregnant. She cooked well, kept house. Marriage seemed fine. In time, their daughter Sophie arrived.
When she started nursery, Lucy took a job as a PA at a construction firm, her computer skills handy. Started dressing smart, wearing makeup. Sometimes Gore saw cars drop her off.
*I want a car*, shed announced once.
Gore had dreamed of one too, but couldnt afford it. Theyd taken on debts for the flatno room for luxuries.
While paying those off, his mum died. They rented her place out, but Lucy took a loan for a car. Gore blew up.
*Im tired, Gore. Tired of scraping by. I cant live like this.*
*Is there someone else?*
*Yes. Im sorry. I have to think of Sophie*
Oh? And he didnt? Hed slammed the door, left. Thank God hed kept his mums flat. Lucy had nagged him to sell it. Alone, evenings were unbearable. The drinking started, drowning the ache.
He tortured himself imagining another man in his placedrinking from his mug, sharing his bed Had she ever loved him? Just used him for his brains? The booze stopped the thoughts. Then it swallowed him whole, cost him his job
***
Somehow, he slept. Dreamt of wandering fog, searching for someone, voice trapped in his throat. Then*James!* But Lucy only ever called him by his last name. He woke, heart hammering.
Took a moment to remember where he was. No more sleep. He sat smoking in the kitchen, one perk of bachelorhood. Lucy wouldve banished him to the stairwell by now.
Simon raised an eyebrow at his early arrival, sniffed the air.
*Havent been drinking*, Gore said. *Can I nip out at lunch?*
*That desperate for a pint?*
*Want to see my girl. Before she forgets me.*
*Fine. But youll make up the time.*
Gore promised.
He waited on a bench outside Sophies school, watching the gates. Didnt dare go closerno need to run into David, with that look like Gore was something stuck to his shoe.
No sign of either mans car today. Kids streamed out, but no Sophie. Maybe she was ill? Thena flash of pink coat. Gore leapt up, waving. A black SUV screeched to a halt, blocking his view. Something twisted in his gut. Whyd it stopped?
He sprinted around the bonnetsaw the rear door swinging shut. A glimpse of pink? A hooded figure yanked it closedGores hand shot out. The door crushed his fingers.
Pain shot up his arm, exploded in his skull. The world greyed out.
*Dad!* Sophie shoved the door open, tumbling onto him. The SUV lurched forward, clipping his hip.
Gore sat on wet tarmac, his hand throbbing, heavy as if set in concrete.
*Broad daylight*
*Call the police*
*Pissed, probably*
*Some bloke tried to snatch her*
*Daddy!* Sophie sobbed into his ear.
Voices reached him as if through cotton wool.
An ambulance took them to hospital. Sophie mustve called Lucyshe was there when he came out of surgery, both rushing to him.
*Dad!* Sophie clung to him.
*Break anything?* Lucy asked.
*X-rays clear*, Gore muttered.
*Thank you. If you hadntGod, I cant even think* Sophie buried her face in his shoulder.
*I told Mum everything*, she said.
*David was supposed to collect her. If Id known* Lucys voice cracked.
*Hey. Shes safe.* Gore tried to hug her with his good arm, but she stiffened.
*Come on. Well drive you home.*
In the backseat, Sophie eyed his bandaged hand.
*Does it hurt?*
*Hardly at all.*
*How will you work?* Lucy caught his eye in the rearview mirror. Hed have chopped the hand off to keep her looking at him like that, not the ice hed grown used to.
At his door, he offered to fetch Sophie from school while he was off work.
*Well manage*, Lucy said, driving away.
But that evening, she called. *Does it still hurt?*
*You cant cook. Ill bring soup tomorrow.*
Pity? No. *Dont bother. Ill cope.*
*I was thinking If its no trouble, meet Sophie at twelve.*
*What about David?* But Gore stayed silent.
Next morning, he didnt call Simonshowed up at the shop. Simon took one look at his swollen, purple fingers and sent him home.
Gore waited openly by the school gates.
*Mum and Uncle David had a huge row last night*, Sophie chattered on the walk home. *Dad are you coming back?*
*What about Uncle David?*
*Mum kicked him out. He wasnt at a meeting yesterdayhe was with his girlfriend. I heard. Shes not home, come on.* She tugged him inside.
First time back since the split. Nothing had changedjust little things. The kettle was new.
*The old one died. Mum bought this. Glad Uncle Davids gone. I never liked him.*
Strange, sitting in his old spot, feeling like a guest.
He helped with her homework. Only when the front door slammed did he realise how late it was.
Lucy didnt seem surprised to see him.
*Dinners soon*, she said, vanishing into the kitchen.
They ate together, just like before. For a moment, Gore felt hed slipped back from some other world.
*Homework done?* Lucy asked.
*Yeah. Dad helped.*
*I should go*, Gore stood. *That was great.*
Lucy rose too. They stood close, not looking at each other.
*Its late. Wherell you go? Ill make up the sofa.*
Gore lay stiff, afraid to move. Lucy wasnt sleeping eithertoo still.
In the morning, he woke as they were leaving.
*Whyre you up? Youre not working*, Lucy said. *Sophies got five lessons today. Be at the school by one.*
He wandered the flat, ate the tea and toast left out. Washed up, wincing.
Yesterday, hed spotted Davids toothbrush in the bathroom. Today, only two: Sophies pink one, Lucys green. Had she binned the third? Just like his, when he left.
How he wanted to stay. What if Lucy told him to go? Should he leave first? What if she didnt? *What if.* If she let him stay, hed crawl over broken glass, stay sober, find proper work. He was good at what he did.
In his jeans, he found a crumpled twenty. Bought a small bouquet of pale pink carnations from the corner shop.
Lucy noticed, said nothing. Didnt kick him outthat was something. He still slept on the sofa. But at dinner, she started chatting about work, like old times.
*That secretary still jealous of you and the boss?* he ventured.
*No. She quit. The new girls nice.*
How good it felt, the three of them at the table. Gore realisedsince moving back, he hadnt once craved a drink.
Maybe things *could* mend. Hed prove himself. He started showing up at the shop again, working through the pain in his hand. Simon nodded at him, said nothing, but left extra tea out. Days passed. Then weeks. The flowers sat in a jar on the windowsill, drooping but still there. One evening, Lucy placed a fresh mug beside his, their fingers brushingjust once. Sophie left her homework out on the table, like she used to, waiting for him to check it. And when the craving came, a whisper in the dark, Gore sat at the kitchen table, wrote lines on a notepad: *I am here. I am here. I am here.* The mornings got easier. The nights, too.
