Annie Groves - Only a Mother Knows

Silently opening the sitting-room door Sally wasn’t surprised that the only sound in the house was the heartbeat tick of the clock on the mantelpiece, and knowing George would be concentrating on his files in the study she crept in so as not to disturb him. However, as she stepped into the room another unexpected sound could be heard.

The clink of a bottle hitting the rim of a crystal glass was followed by the gentle glug of liquid being poured, and Sally wondered, all of a sudden, if she was intruding. Maybe George had company? Her heart beat accelerated.

‘Hello, George,’ Sally managed to say quietly when she saw him at the sideboard and realised he was alone. George had been oblivious to her presence it seemed, going by his astonished expression when he wheeled around and spilled some of his drink. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ But it wasn’t his look of amazement that gave Sally cause for concern – it was the realisation that he was absolutely stumbling drunk.

‘Shally.’ George slurred her name and raised his glass, giving her a lopsided half-smile. ‘Come and have a little drinky with me.’

‘I think you’ve had enough, George.’ She had left him not more than an hour ago. How could he possibly have got himself into this state in such a short space of time? He must have drunk the alcohol like water.

‘C’mon, let’s have a little drinky and then …’ His eyes had a glassy gleam she had never seen before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. He flapped the brandy bottle in the air and invited her, with a come-hither wave of his other hand, to join him. Sally wasn’t even sure he could see her properly, he was so drunk. However, he wasn’t so drunk he didn’t notice her hesitation. Slowly, with great concentration, he placed the bottle on the sideboard, then, taking a deep breath, he said in slow, measured tones, ‘Shally … let me exshplain … hic …’ His intoxicated state had led to an outbreak of hiccups, which he found quite amusing – even though Sally did not when she recognised he was so sloshed he couldn’t make it back to the sofa unaided.

‘Here, let me help you before you fall over.’ Sally wrinkled her nose as he tried to give her a big wet slobbery kiss on the cheek and succeeded in landing in a dishevelled heap on the sofa, scattering cushions and laughing inanely at nothing in particular. She knew George wasn’t a heavy drinker; in fact neither of them cared much for alcohol. Instead they much preferred going to the pictures or the theatre, but most of all they liked to keep a clear head. So for George to get into this state Sally knew he must have something very disturbing on his mind.

‘I’ll get you a cup of black coffee, George, it might sober you up a little,’ Sally said in her most professional, no-nonsense voice which she used to settle unruly squaddies who tried it on. She turned to leave the room, but felt herself being held back by her wrist, and as she quickly turned she found herself being pulled towards George, and landed on top of him with a thump. For as much as she loved him and would usually welcome such an intimate embrace, Sally wasn’t too keen on the strong brandy smell that seemed to emanate from his every pore, nor the one-eyed stare as he tried to focus.

‘Let me get you that coffee, darling,’ Sally said in her most soothing tones as she scrambled to her feet. There was absolutely nothing George could do to stop her as he couldn’t get to his own feet in such an inebriated condition, and in fact he was so far gone he couldn’t keep his other eye open either.

When Sally returned moments later with two cups of black coffee, George’s head was hanging over the side of the settee, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth and he was snoring like an overstuffed pig. Sally noticed the brandy glass, balanced precariously between his fingers, was spilling its contents onto the carpet. George, she noted with concern, was dead to the world and experiencing no pain, but Sally couldn’t guarantee he would feel that way when he woke up later; in fact she would lay money on him feeling very sorry for himself.

Looking at him now, even in this drunken state, she knew she would forgive him, eventually. However, she worried it would be too dangerous to leave him alone.

‘What if you vomited in your sleep?’ Sally asked the unconscious George. ‘You could choke to death. What if you tried to climb the stairs? You could fall down and break your neck!’ No, she thought, there was nothing for it but to stay until he was safely awake. ‘And when you wake up later with a screaming hangover there will be words, George, and most of them will be coming from me.’

It was late and growing dark when George began to stir, and Sally could tell just by the putty-coloured tinge around his gills that he was suffering an explosive hangover.

‘Feeling queasy, George?’ Sally asked, secretly satisfied he wasn’t feeling up to answering her back. ‘You have slept like a dead man for hours, I daren’t leave you.’ She hoped that Olive wouldn’t be too cross about looking after Alice all this time, but it was imperative she made sure George was safe. ‘I’ve taken advantage of Olive’s good nature for too long already, George,’ she said, watching as he leaned forward and buried his head in his two hands. ‘I can’t expect her to look after Alice indefinitely.’

‘Sally, darling, can you just be quiet for one moment.’ George had never so much as disagreed with her before now, and she was shocked to the core to hear him telling her to shut up now. She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation and then, thinking better of it, she closed it again. How could he speak to her like this? Was this the proof she needed that he had gone off her after all and decided to drink himself into oblivion before he could break the bad news? ‘I’ve joined up,’ he said simply, looking defeated. Momentarily, not one single thought passed through Sally’s dumfounded brain. Then the realisation began to creep in. Joined up? Joined up!

‘But George, you have a job here!’

‘A safe job, you mean!’ George looked so angry when he said that and then he told her he had enlisted in the Royal Navy that very morning as a ship’s surgeon and no matter how many times he tried to get it into her head that he was doing the honourable thing Sally would not listen.

She was so angry she left him standing in the middle of the room looking dishevelled and smelling like a brewery whilst she went to make him some black coffee. Once she had gathered her thoughts together she would decide on what to do next.

‘Don’t you understand, Sally, I need to do this.’ George followed her to the kitchen ‘I cannot let my fellow countrymen down and hide behind the privilege of a consultancy – oh, did I tell you I got the consultant’s job? – Today, would you believe.’ He gave a hard, almost bitter laugh; Sally knew he’d waited so long for the position.

‘But, George, you are needed here!’ Her words, so strangled, were barely audible.

‘Tell me, Sally, who needs me more than those poor brave men torpedoed out of the water?’

‘I do, George,’ Sally answered, all her fight depleted now.

Drew knew there were two ways to go to the mall. There was the lower east side, which was the shortest route and the one everybody usually took. That meant passing where all his old buddies hung out, who would no doubt want to know about England or ask about his mother’s funeral yesterday and he didn’t want to talk about it. Then there was the longer way round, which of course took longer.

Although, he silently reasoned, if he took the short route he wouldn’t need to take the car his father had bought him as a bribe to keep him in the States. However, the guys would stop him for catch-ups on every corner and he didn’t need that today. His mind made up, he decided to take the Chevrolet Sedan to the mall.