A NEED FOR DRINK, A NEED FOR LOVE
With the Christmas and New Year celebrations over and the children back at school, Clare phoned Rachel, asking if she would like to accompany her on a shopping trip to central London as they had so often done in previous years.
'Yes, that would be nice,' Rachel replied, with what appeared to Clare as genuine enthusiasm, though not committing herself to any particular date, 'I'll phone you and let you know when I'm free.'
Clare waited patiently, trustingly, and somewhat naively for the phone call which never came, and very soon January was over. Then it occurred to her that Rachel had perhaps made a New Year's resolution to avoid her completely but couldn't quite summon up enough courage to say so. She was being let down softly, as she had already suspected. A harder landing would have been more jolting and abrupt but the outcome would have been the same. Rachel,it seemed, had no time in her life for Clare anymore.
But Clare would not relinquish what little remained of their friendship; clinging to it desperately, like a shipwrecked sailor to a few shattered timbers. She knew what Rachel was doing, but never stopped hoping that her friend would one day realise how much she wanted to revive what was lost.
Andrew quite often collected Lewis from school now, with the result that Clare saw more of him than she did of Rachel. He didn't seem aware of the rift which now existed between the two women.
'How's Rachel?' Clare would often ask and he, a very open person would be forthcoming with the truth about his wife with no prompting from Clare and on one occasion was far more honest than even she had expected.
'She's been worse with her drinking again since Christmas, but she's as stubborn as ever and won't listen.'
'Do you think she might listen to me?' Clare suggested.
'Well, it's worth a try if you want to talk to her about it, because if she carries on the way she does she'll end up in hospital again - or worse.'
As Lewis and Clare's two boys came bounding energetically through the school gates Clare saw something in Andrew's eyes which she recognized in herself. He was as much a long-suffering husband as she was a long-suffering wife. He had tolerated years of living dutifully with an alcoholic partner just as she had put up with a man who didn't meet his marital obligations in denying her a sex life. Clare wondered how long should anyone be expected to endure the problems of another?
Clare, having lost all hope of Rachel ever being her lover, and even putting thoughts of redeeming their lost friendship aside for the moment, now had only one wish and that was to save Rachel from herself.
A few days later whilst doing the weekend shopping, Clare called in at a local advice centre for alcoholics and others who were concerned about them, so she could be more use to Rachel if she were armed with the correct information. She also found a book on a second-hand book stall - 'A Glad Awakening' by Betty Ford, The First lady's autobiography of her own battle with alcohol, and one which she eventually overcame.
Clare read the book in one evening, trying to understand the mind of an alcoholic so that she could help her friend. We all have a need for something in this life and Clare was fast coming to the conclusion that whereas her own need was for the love and affection she had never had, Rachel's only apparent need was the desire for more alcohol.
The following day, Clare called on Rachel unannounced. Walking the short distance to her house, she was no longer hoping to fulfill her own desires but had only her friend's welfare at heart.
Rachel answered the door and at first Clare was apprehensive, remembering the previous time when Rachel had made it more than obvious that she was no longer welcome.
'Oh, I'm just going out,' Rachel said, as soon as she saw Clare, and this time it was not merely an excuse since she already had her coat on. 'But I'll give you a lift home if you like,' she continued, noticing there was no vehicle parked on the drive.
'Yes, okay then, I can call again later on in the week.'
Knowing she had only a few minutes Clare began to say what she had planned so thoroughly the night before, as soon as she got into Rachel's car. Struggling to find the right words, it proved a more difficult task than telling Rachel she loved her. 'Look, there's no easy way to say this,' she continued, as the car pulled out of the drive, 'but I know you've got a drink problem and I want to help you.'
Rachel smiled in reply, that cool 'Mona Lisa' smile of hers when Clare never knew quite what she really meant. In fact she did look very much like Mona Lisa in her overall appearance; a dark woman perhaps harboring some dreadful secret and now Clare had revealed that she knew exactly what it was.
'I haven't got a problem - I haven't had a drink for three Weeks' Rachel replied, as composed as ever.
What about all the years before that? Clare wanted to ask, but didn't. 'Isn't there anything I can do to help - I'm your friend and I care about you; surely there must be something I can do?' she said, trying desperately to convince her friend that it was perhaps too formidable a thing for someone to cope with alone.
'It's okay thanks, Andrew's helping me.' Rachel replied coolly, when the car stopped outside Clare's house.
Clare left the vehicle hurriedly, almost entangling herself in the seatbelt in her nervousness. But when she was alone once more Clare realized that Andrew was just as powerless as she was in stopping Rachel from drinking since he had never managed to curb it in the past.
On two further occasions Clare attempted to help her friend and on the third attempt she gave Rachel the Betty Ford book to read, hoping that a true-life account by someone who had experienced the same traumas would be far more help than anything she could ever say.
If just one paragraph, one sentence, or even one solitary word were to perhaps trigger off something in Rachel's mind to assist her on the way to recovery then it might make all the difference.
Three times was enough, Clare thought, in offering her friend assistance, and now she could do no more. Just as St. Peter had denied Christ three times she felt that Rachel had refused her help in much the same way. And although Rachel had accepted the book, Clare had no way of knowing if she would actually read it.
Clare constantly mourned the relationship she once had, not one day passing without her thinking of the times she and Rachel had spent together and how Rachel had cast their friendship aside as if it was no longer worth preserving. But whereas Rachel never found another friend, Clare now had Amy; And they were two friends who had known from the onset that they both preferred women to men. Meeting Clare frequently for lunch, Amy gradually began to fill the void in her life which Rachel had left behind. And she was keen to lend a listening ear to the other major problems Clare was facing.
'What you need is a dammed good holiday.' She would often remark,' Get away from these gloomy London skies for a few weeks or so, and perhaps you'll see things in a different light when you return.'
'If it was that good perhaps I wouldn't want to come back at all.' Clare joked, knowing that she could be herself with Amy, not having to choose her words carefully as she constantly felt the need to with both Rachel and Mike.
Clare knew it was sensible advice but wanted to wait until her divorce had come through, her uncle's land had been sold, and his estate eventually wound up.
'But haven't you already put your life on hold enough, being married to that no good husband of yours? Come on, let's pop along to the travel agents and see what's available.' Amy managed to persuade her as they walked leisurely along Ealing Broadway one afternoon, browsing in the enticing shop windows.
'I bet the single supplements are phenomenal.' Clare protested as they flicked through some glossy brochures.
'Then don't pay them - go with a friend!' Amy suggested winking at her suggestively and pointing to herself.
'Oh, but what will your girlfriend say?' Clare blurted out as the man stacking brochures on the shelves turned and peered disparagingly in their direction.
'Ah, well, I've been meaning to tell you... she doesn't actually exist, you see, I've got secrets too.'
Clare was taken aback for an instant but not totally surprised at Amy's revelation. 'Well, I was only thinking the other day that you didn't seem to talk about her very much, but why the pretence?' Clare enquired wondering why Amy had gone to the bother of inventing a partner.
Armed with a carrier full of brochures, Amy suggested they go for a coffee and she would explain things in more depth. 'It's quite simple really,' she explained as they ordered refreshments in a relatively quiet corner of a busy shoppers' cafe. 'I haven't had a long-term relationship for a good few years now and I didn't want you to think I was after you when we first met. I just wanted to give you as much help as possible in dealing with your newly-discovered sexuality. But now you seem to have managed that all by yourself anyway and you say there's no chance with you and Rachel so I don't suppose it matters anymore.'
'Do you have any feelings for me then?'
'Perhaps I might have, if I spent more time with you.' Amy said, indicating the bag of travel brochures underneath the table. 'And what about you - what do you think of me? I appreciate that you've still got strong feelings for Rachel but in time they will fade and you can't let that hold you back from cultivating other relationships.'
'I like you a lot, Clare smiled in response. 'You make me laugh, and yes, a holiday together sounds like a great idea. Did you have anywhere in mind?'
'How about the Greek Islands?'
'Any one in particular?'
'Yes.'
The two women broke into simultaneous laughter each knowing exactly which Island the other had thought of.