Page 94 of Tears of Ink

I can’t get it to absorb into my brain quite right.

“Listen, Dan. Don’t drink anymore. Go have a shower and a sleep, then get back there for him.” I flick my eyes over Eli’s concerned face. “Then I’ll be there. I’ll come tonight once the kids have gone home. I might need you or Abi to get me from the station.”

“He will kill me for telling you and making you come.”

“Nah, tell him to take it up with me when I get there. Can I crash at yours?”

There’s a moment of silence. Dan knows Abi’s is too cramped, and that there is no other door for me to walk through. “Sure.”

“What’s wrong?” The skin on the back of my neck prickles.

“Your dad was there when the ambulance came. He’s been spending a lot of time at ours.”

The bottom of the world just falls away and leaves me suspended, hanging from an endless expanse of sky.

“He can’t be there when I get back, you know that right? I never want to see him again. Al knows that.” My legs are shaking and not with the delicious warm trembles that Eli creates.

“Faith, this isn’t about you.”

I want to rip Dan’s head off. It’s never been about me. But I take a staggered breath and let it go. “I’ll see you later. I’ll let you know when my train gets in.” I go to hang up, but then call him back. “Sober up, Dan, you can be drunk forever afterwards.”

I hang up, but my hands are shaking so badly my phone slips out of my hand. Eli is there. Just right there, sweeping it up off the floor, while still maintaining a supportive hold on my elbow. I want to run from his touch, but at the same time I want to bury myself so far under his skin I’ll never surface and face reality again.

“Wait,” his voice is soft, and the audience I know we have around us melts away. He bends a little until the blues are levelled with my gaze. “Just wait. Talk to me; tell me what you need.”

I can’t. I need to think, to pace, to breathe air in my lungs. But his hands are on my arms holding me in place. “Al’s gone to the hospice.”

He nods. “I worked that out. Tell me what you need.” I don’t understand what he’s asking. “What do you need me to do to help?”

His question floors me. I don’t think anyone has ever said anything remotely like that to me before. It makes tears tingle along the edge of my eyelashes.

“I don’t know. I’ve got to get there, but I’ve got to be here today and tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’m even thinking or saying…” I trail off as a tidal wave of unspent tears threatens to drown me.

He steers me for a kitchen chair and pushes me gently down, his hands on my shoulders. “Elaine, this woman needs your magic medicine.”

Elaine is already bustling around.

“I don’t need a sweet tea, Elijah.” I shake my head at him, and despite the torn expression on his face, his lips quirk a little.

“Elaine, have you been spilling my tea drinking secrets? No,” he turns his focus directly onto me. “No, this is better.” Elaine shuffles over with a bottle of the unpronounceable whisky.

“From my cooking stash.” She pours me a shot and slides the glass over. “Here.”

“Cooking?” I raise an eyebrow and stare at the glass. “I can’t drink that, I’m about to teach a bunch of kids how to make vases with clay.”

Eli whispers to Elaine and walks away, and without really thinking about it, I pick up the glass and take a little sip. It burns my lips, the peat and smoke flavours dampening the whirlpool of emotions rushing inside me.

While he’s gone, I stare at the glass. What am I going to face when I go home? What will Al look like? What will it be like to see him like that? How will I cope? Why is my father there? Why has Al let him back in now, after everything?

Maybe everything is about me just like Dan said?

Before I’ve taken three sips of fiery liquid, Eli is back in front of me. “Okay, I’m going to be here today, I can help.” he crouches down in front of my spot on the kitchen chair. “Not that I know much about vases, but hey, I can make it up.” He grins, and a watery tide threatens to wash me away. “Then tonight I’ll drive you to Brighton. I don’t want you to get the train there and back by yourself.”

“Ssh.” I frown at the people around us, but Eli shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, these guys are my friends.”

I stare at him for a moment. Wasn’t this the room where I told him I’d be his friend? Maybe this is it, the kitchen and the space, it gives him his centre… I’m losing the plot. I’m thinking crazy unnecessary thoughts to stop thinking about the ones that scare me the most. I don’t know where Eli’s centre is because I don’t even know where he lives—let’s keep it real right now.