**The Return**
Oliver climbed the narrow stairs into the courtyard. In the basement of the apartment block was a small workshop where he repaired office equipmenta job hed held for the past two months. The sky was thick with grey clouds, but no rain fell. For October, the weather was unusually mild. Though only five in the evening, dusk was already settling in.
He didnt own a car, using buses only in bad weather. Oliver shrugged and walked out of the courtyard. Once, hed been an IT specialist with a good salary and a family. But after a string of misfortunes, he lost everythinghis wife, his job, his self-respect. Drinking became his only solace. An old university mate, Simon, gave him a chance in his repair shop, fixing computers.
But Oliver kept drinkingshowing up late, skipping work entirely. Today, Simon had finally warned him: even if Oliver was a natural with machines, no ones patience lasted forever. If he didnt change, hed be sacked. Oliver knew he was spiralling. If Simon fired him, where would he go?
The streetlights flickered on as darkness deepened. His body screamed for a drink, his jaw clenched with craving. Passing cafés, corner shops, and pubs, Oliver kept his eyes down, shoulders hunched, hurrying forward. He *would* resist this time. Hed promised Simon.
He didnt consider himself an alcoholic, but two days without a drink was his limit. Nights were hardestwithout liquor, sleep wouldnt come.
There it was: the dingy pub he frequented. Just two small whiskiesbetter than buying a whole bottle at the shop. But he knew himself. Hed run into someone, stay until he was wrecked, then wake up with a pounding head and crushing guilt. After a pause, he walked on.
*See?* Hed done it. He felt almost triumphant. Until the next pub.
His flat was in sight now. Just one last shop ahead. Oliver stopped, staring at the bright window displayshelves lined with bottles, calling to him like a lighthouse in fog.
His feet carried him toward the door. Halfway there, he clenched his fists in his coat pockets, forced himself past.
*You could still turn back,* whispered the voice in his head. He broke into a run, only stopping when his buildings door slammed shut behind him.
Home. The mess of his bachelor life hit himclothes strewn about, dishes piled high. The fridge held little: a tin of baked beans, stale bread, hardened cheese. He should shop properly, but that meant passing the liquor aisle. No. Hed survive.
To distract himself until closing time, he cleaned. Washed clothes, scrubbed dishes, wiped sticky crumbs off the table, mopped the floor. The flat smelled fresher, but beneath the detergent lingered stale smoke and alcohol.
He checked the clock. Still time to dash outten times over. Then Simons stern face flashed in his mind. Oliver went to the window.
Across the street, golden squares of light glowed in other flats. Families at dinner tables, couples on sofas watching telly, kids pretending to study while listening to music. Just like hed done as a boy. A wave of loneliness nearly choked him.
The washing machine beeped. He hung the clothes, drank tea with the rock-hard cheese. Ten minutes until shops closed. He could still
No. He dialled his ex-wifes number.
*Oliver, I said not to call in the evenings.*
*Nice to hear you too. Let me speak to Emily,* he said.
*Are you drunk? Shes asleep.*
*Im sober.*
A sigh. *Sleep it off. And dont call again. Emilys adjusting to Mark*
He wanted to say Mark wasnt her father, that he missed his daughterbut the line went dead.
Oddly, she hadnt blocked him. That fragile hope kept him alive: maybe not all was lost. Womens *no*s sometimes meant *maybe*.
He made the bed with fresh sheets, lay down knowing sleep wouldnt come. The craving gnawed at him, but there was nothing left to drink.
***
Hed met Lucy at university. She was a year below him. One day in the canteen, shed asked to skip the queue. Hed obliged. Shed saved him a seat, watching him with interest. Back then, he was the star studenttop marks, professors favourite.
Theyd dated. He helped with her coursework, even wrote her dissertation.
*Why pick this degree? Shouldve chosen something easier. How will you work in this field?* hed often teased.
*Youll work. Ill raise the baby,* shed laughed. Thats how hed learned she was pregnant.
Lucy was a good cook, practical. Marriage seemed natural. In time, little Emily arrived.
When she started nursery, Lucy took a job as a PA at a construction firm, using the computer skills hed taught her. She dressed smarter, wore makeup. Sometimes, Oliver saw her dropped off by unfamiliar cars.
*I want a car,* shed announced once.
Oliver dreamed of one too, but debts from their flat swallowed his salary. Then his mum died. They rented out her flat; Lucy took a loan for a car. Hed exploded.
*Im tired, Oliver. Tired of scraping by. I cant live like this,* shed shouted.
*Is there someone else?*
*Yes. And I have to think of Emily now.*
So that was it. Hed slammed the door, left. Thank God for his mums empty flat. Nights alone drowned in whiskey, numbing the pain.
He imagined another man in his placedrinking from his mug, sleeping in his bed. Had Lucy ever loved him, or just used him? The drink swallowed him whole. Lost his job.
***
He mustve slept. In his dream, fog choked him, someone calling*Oliver!* But Lucy only ever used his surname. He woke, heart pounding.
Dawn was hours away. He sat chain-smoking in the kitchenone perk of bachelorhood. Lucy wouldve banished him to the stairwell.
At work, Simon frowned at his early arrival, sniffed. *You drinking?*
*No. Can I take lunch early?*
*That desperate for a pint?*
*Need to see my daughter. Before she forgets me.*
Simon relented. *Make up the hours.*
Oliver waited on a bench outside Emilys school. From here, hed spot her. He darednt go closerdidnt want a run-in with Mark, whod always looked at him like dirt.
No sign of Lucys caror Marks. Kids streamed out. Then he saw herpink coat, bouncing steps. He stood, wavinguntil a black SUV blocked his view.
Something felt wrong. He sprinted around the vehicle, saw the door yanking shuta flash of pink inside. A hooded figure slammed it. Oliver jammed his hand in the gapcrushing pain shot through him.
*Dad!* Emily shoved the door open, tumbling into him. The SUV screeched away, clipping his leg.
He sat on wet pavement, hand throbbing, swollen like concrete.
*Broad daylight*
*Call the police*
*Some man tried taking her*
*Daddy!* Emily sobbed into his shoulder.
Voices muffled as if underwater.
An ambulance took them to hospital. Emily mustve called Lucy, because when he emerged, they rushed to him.
*Dad!* Emily clung to him.
*Broken?* Lucy asked.
*Just bruised,* he said.
*Thank you. If you hadnt been there* Lucys voice cracked.
*Mark was supposed to pick her up,* she whispered. *He never came. If Id known*
*Its okay. Shes safe.* He reached to hug her, but she stiffened.
*Well drive you home,* she said.
In the backseat, Emily touched his bandaged fingers. *Does it hurt?*
*Not much.*
*How will you work?* Lucys eyes met his in the mirror. Hed have cut off his hand to keep her looking at him like thatnot with the old coldness.
At his flat, he offered to collect Emily from school.
*Well manage,* Lucy said. But that evening, she called. *Can you meet her tomorrow?*
No mention of Mark. He didnt ask.
Next morning, Simon took one look at his swollen hand and sent him home.
Oliver waited openly at the school gates.
*Mum and Mark had a huge fight last night,* Emily chattered. *Dad are you coming home?*
*What about Mark?*
*Mum kicked him out. He wasnt at a meetinghe was with his girlfriend. I heard.*
At the flat*their* flatnothing had changed. Just small things. A new kettle.
*The old one broke. Glad Marks gone. I never liked him,* Emily said.
Sitting at his old spot felt surreal. He helped with her homework, losing track of time until the door clicked open.
Lucy didnt seem surprised to see him. *Dinners ready,* was all she said.
They ate together, just like before. Like hed slipped back into a life hed lost.
*Homework done?* Lucy asked.
*Dad helped.*
*I should go,* Oliver said, rising.
Lucy stood too. They hovered, avoiding each others eyes.
*Its late. Sleep on the sofa.*
He lay rigid, fearing hed wake herbut her breathing was too quiet. She wasnt asleep either.
Morning came. Lucy and Emily were leaving.
*Whyre you up? Youre not working,* she said. *Pick Emily up at one.*
Alone, he ate the toast shed left, washed up wincingly. In the bathroom, Marks toothbrush was gone. Only Lucys and Emilys remained. Had she thrown his out too, back when he left?
He ached to stay. What if she asked him to go? Should he leave first? Or wait?
In his pocket, he found a crumpled twenty-pound note. He bought pale pink roses from the corner shop.
Lucy noticed but said nothing. She didnt speak much at allbut she didnt send him away. He still slept on the sofa. Yet at dinner, she began chatting about work, like old times.
*Still jealous of the boss?* he ventured.
*No. She quit. The new girls nice.*
Sitting together felt like coming home. Oddly, since moving back in, the urge to drink had vanished.
Maybe things could mend. If he stayed sober, if Lucy let him stay Hed do anything to earn back her trust. His mums flat could cover expenses
**Life isnt about avoiding the fallits about finding the strength to climb back up.**
