Wednesday's Child by Shane Dunphy Page A

leaningagainst the wall and folding my arms. ‘What happened? I’m told by these two ladies that you were sent to a centre to get you cleaned up. You were released with glowing reports, you seemed ready to get on with your life, and then … this. What went wrong?’
     
    ‘Oh God, Shane,’ he said, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and shaking his head, ‘what kind of a question is that? Do you have any idea? Do you have a clue, man?’ His tone was very defensive.
     
    I was tempted to soften my approach, but I felt that being gentle would not serve him well now.
     
    ‘I think that it’s the only question to ask right now, Max. I had to stand here while your children watched you wipe puke from your chin and drag yourself out of a drunken stupor, and then I had to come back out here this morning to have you sign them away for a second time. That makes me feel pretty crappy, to tell you the truth. I think my question is a fairly reasonable one.’
     
    ‘Aw Jesus. I don’t know … things got on top of me. I thought I could cope and then … then I couldn’t, you know?’ His tone changed to whining, pleading, pathetic now. The aggression hadn’t worked. He was trying a different tack.
     
    ‘How do we know that it won’t happen again?’ Betty asked. ‘How do we know that this isn’t just another lapse in a long line of lapses? Those children won’t be able to cope with this again. Look at what you’re doing to them.’
     
    ‘I know, I know. I feel awful. The kids mean everything to me. They’re all I have. I need this sorted out. I have to get them back.’
     
    ‘Are you serious about that, Max? Do you really mean it this time?’ Noreen asked. ‘If you are, we’ll help in any way we can. We’ll organise regular access visits, we’ll get you specialist addiction counselling, we’ll make sure that the kids get plenty of help too, but we need to know that you are committed to the process.’
     
    ‘Of course I am. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I slipped back into the drinking. One minute I’m sober and steady, the next I’m coming out of a three-day jag. I don’t know.’
     
    ‘Do you have any liquor in the house now, Max?’ I asked.
     
    ‘No. I poured it all down the lav this morning.’
     
    ‘Are you sure? If I were to do a thorough search would I find any in the toilet cistern or hidden in one of those cushion covers?’
     
    ‘Search all you like, man. It’s all gone.’
     
    I nodded. ‘You’d better be telling me the truth, Max. Don’t let me down.’
     
    ‘I won’t. I won’t let
myself
down, or my kids.’
     
    I walked over and extended my hand to him. ‘Shake on it.’
     
    He looked at my hand, and then looked at me. In this interaction, I was the biggest threat to him. I was another Alpha Male invading his territory. I wanted us more on an even keel. Max was used to dealingwith women, and I got a sense that he could be quite a charmer when he wanted to be and was not beyond playing the little-boy-lost card. But he was finding me much harder to deal with. He couldn’t quite find an approach that he was comfortable with, and was veering from persona to persona, trying to find one that would get me onside. The man liked to be liked, but felt on very uneven ground with me.
     
    He did not shake, but neither did I remove my hand.
     
    ‘We can work together and try to get on, or we can pull against each other,’ I said, ‘but either way I’m in your life for the foreseeable future. It’d be easier if we could reach some kind of understanding.’
     
    He laughed drily and took my hand, shaking vigorously. ‘You’re a tough bastard, Shane, but at least you’re up front about it.’
     
    I grinned. ‘I bet you say that to all the guys.’
     
    He laughed aloud at that. It would be one of the few moments of humour and friendship before the darkness fully descended.
     
    Forty-five minutes later I was sitting in Josephine’s office. She had asked