What Goes Around

chapter THIRTY FIVE

It’s not an attractive thing, so I’m not going to go into detail.

The important point is – I’ve forgotten the cream.

I don’t want Charlotte waking up and me not to be there.

As I’m waiting for the freezer to do its job with my ice cream cake, I remember that I have an awful lot of Baileys left over from the funeral and that Baileys contains cream.

Basically, I eat an awful lot.

I mean, an awful lot.

And I wash it down with cream, or rather Baileys, safe in the knowledge I’m about to purge.

Except I haven’t factored in the alcohol content and as I sit on the loo with a shower cap on, working on my second bottle of cream, or rather, Baileys, with a bucket in front of me, that I’m aiming to puke into, I fall off.

I don’t remember falling off.

But I must have because I’m on the cold floor.

I can hear Charlotte screaming.

But I can’t open my eyes.

I hear noises and I hear footsteps and my eyelids are lifted and there are lights being flashed into my eyes. I am vaguely aware of a second stretcher bumping its way down my staircase and then we’re all clipped into the back. I can hear Charlotte crying and she’s got her phone and is trying to call my mum.

‘No!’ I shout it to her and she’s sobbing. ‘Not Mum.’

She asks if she can ring Jess and no way, I slur at her. ‘No way.’

The laxatives continue working.

She looks at me and my daughter hates me and no wonder.

I’ve officially turned into my mum.

Please God, I beg as the back of the ambulance opens and I’m wheeled into A&E.

Please God, I sob as the lights of the department hit me. Please God, this is rock-bottom.