More Than Enough

By Emma Dhesi

Buried deep inside, dark secrets threaten to destroy her.

 

Karen Elliott's life has spiralled out of control. Years of self-medicating with alcohol have cost her dearly; her job, her family's trust, and now even her grip on reality. When a drunken incident pushes her over the edge, Karen is forced to confront the harrowing truth about herself.

 

Sent to a rehabilitation clinic against her will, Karen must face exorcisms of her past like never before. Memories resurface that she'd give anything to stay buried. With each new session chipping away at her defences, Karen fears what demons may be unearthed.

 

As painful revelations come to light, Karen risks losing not just her sobriety but everything she holds dear. With ghosts of the past clawing to drag her under, will she find the inner strength to stay afloat? Or will her addiction finally overwhelm her, dragging down all who love her?

 

A heart-wrenching and intensely suspenseful story of addiction, recovery and facing deep-seated trauma.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Dhesi
• Release date: Nov 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393147473

Book preview

Chapter 1

The school bell was ringing and Karen Elliot picked up her pace, just making it into class at the same time as her pupils. She had intended on coming into school early so she could prep for her first lesson, but had woken up with a headache and hit snooze too many times. This wouldn’t look good on her promotion application. The noise level in the classroom intensified the pounding in her head and she shouted for her pupils to calm down.

‘All right, Miss,’ someone clamoured. ‘Keep your knickers on.’

The class giggled.

‘Get your books out,’ she called over the chuckling, ignoring the comment.

‘Got a sore head, Miss?’ someone else shouted out.

‘Quiet,’ she ordered, her eyes darting around the room before turning her back on the class on the pretence of writing something on the board. Really, it was so she could close her eyes for a moment before handing out that morning’s assignment.

It wasn’t until halfway through the lesson that she could go to the staff toilets and take a hard look at herself in the mirror. Her long, mousy brown hair looked thin and straggly, her face was pale and her hazel eyes had large dark circles under them. The whites were not exactly bloodshot, but definitely a dirty yellow. Never again, she told herself. No more drinking on a school night.

She pinched her cheeks to bring some colour to her face and went back into the classroom. To her dismay, Mr Baird, the Head Teacher, was there.

‘Good morning, Mrs Elliott,’ he said. ‘I was passing by and heard too much noise.’ He cast a look over the boys and girls. ‘Now you’re back, I’ll leave you to it.’ He smiled as he left, but Karen knew this was a black mark against her. Martin Baird did not like his teachers to leave their classroom. Comfort breaks were to be taken between lessons.

This lesson couldn’t finish quickly enough as far as Karen was concerned. The kids knew she wasn’t on top form and were taking full advantage. At long last the bell rang and class packed up, ready to move on. Karen’s shoulders fell with relief because she now had a free period. This would give her a chance to grab a cup of coffee and get back on track. She swallowed a couple more painkillers. There was a knock at the open door and Karen looked up to see Laura McPhail, who taught history a few doors down.

‘What was all the noise about earlier?’ Laura asked.

‘I hate 3A. That one class seems to have all the idiots.’

Laura laughed and came in, perching on her friend’s desk. ‘Try teaching them historical dates. Seriously, it takes every ounce of patience I possess. They just don’t care.’ Laura looked at Karen for a moment. ‘Late night, last night?’

‘No, I was at home,’ said Karen, making light of the question.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ said Laura, ‘but you smell like a brewery.’

‘Oh God, I know.’ Karen leaned her elbows on the desk and put her hands over her face. ‘I didn’t think I’d had that much to drink, but I feel awful today. Honestly, the older I get, the worse my hangovers are.’

‘How much did you have?’

‘Only a couple of glasses.’ Karen looked up at her friend. ‘I don’t suppose you have any mints?’

‘You’re in luck, I have some in my bag.’ They walked the short distance to Laura’s classroom, and she gave Karen the packet. ‘Here, take them, and you need them more than me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Did you hear?’

‘No, what?’

‘Nigel has put himself forward for the Deputy Head job.’

Karen’s eyebrows sprung up. Nigel was the new kid on the block and going for a promotion this early on at the school was, in her opinion, presumptuous. ‘You’re kidding? Why?’

Laura shrugged her shoulders. ‘He’s ambitious.’

‘He’s been here for no time at all.’

‘He thinks he’s going to revolutionise education.’

‘From Byreburn?’ said Karen.

‘Don’t worry,’ Laura said, smiling her support. ‘The job is yours, I’m sure of it.’

Karen crossed her fingers and headed to the staffroom to grab a cup of coffee. Back in class, she went through the motions of setting up the next lesson, but couldn’t stop thinking about Nigel chasing after the job that was rightfully hers. He may well be the new kid on the block, she thought, but Laura was right about him; he was ambitious. He was young, attractive, and had the gift of the gab. Karen wasn’t confident she could rule him out.

‘Can this day get any worse?’ she said out loud.

‘Having a bad morning?’ It was Mr Baird. For the second time in as many hours, he’d managed to sneak up on her.

‘You could say that,’ she said, pushing down her irritation with a smile. ‘I think I have a cold coming on and am struggling to fight it off.’

‘I see,’ he said and moved towards Karen’s desk. ‘I thought I should let you know that Nigel Gow has also applied the Deputy Head position.’

‘Oh, right,’ she said, not letting on she knew. ‘He’s stiff competition.’ Mr Baird indicated they sit down next to each other at one of the student desks.

‘The dates for the interviews have come through, they’ll take place in six weeks’ time.’ He paused a moment. ‘How are you feeling about it?’

‘Good, you know, positive. There’s no point going into it negatively.’

‘That’s great, that’s great.’ He put his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on steepled fingers. ‘How are your lessons going at the moment?’ he asked. ‘Any problems?’

‘Nothing above the usual. Class 3A continue to be a challenge, but the others are fine. Why?’

‘No reason, I’m just checking in, making sure everyone is happy.’ He looked up and for the first time smiled. Karen felt he expected her to say something, but didn’t know what. To fill the silence she said, ‘All happy here.’

‘And at home?’ He tilted his head to indicate he was listening, but kept his gaze on his clasped hands. When she didn’t answer straight away, he looked up.

‘What do you mean?’ Under the desk Karen flicked her thumb against her forefinger.

‘I mean, is everything okay at home? You’ve seemed somewhat… distracted, recently.’

‘Everything is fine at home,’ said Karen calmly. She dug a nail into her palm. Her chances of promotion were slipping through her fingers. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Just routine,’ he said, standing up. Karen followed his lead.

‘Are you asking Nigel if he is happy at home?’ Mr Baird’s face said no. ‘I didn’t think so. What’s going on, Martin?’

‘It’s come to my attention that you’ve been late to work on a number of occasions recently and…’ he looked around as if for support. ‘… a few people have commented they can smell alcohol on you.’

The ground tilted, and Karen put a hand on the desk. ‘Who said that?’

‘It doesn’t matter who. Is it true?’

‘Of course it’s not true. I’ve never drunk on the job.’

‘I believe you. But I wonder –’

‘What?’ She couldn’t keep the challenge out of her voice.

‘If you have been drunk from the night before. Don’t get me wrong, I know how easily it can happen. We’ve all been there. It’s just it seems to have happened a few times recently, and I wondered if everything was alright? I’m concerned about you.’

Karen was speechless and didn’t know how best to respond. She may well have had residual alcohol in her system right now, but that didn’t mean she was drunk or a danger to her students. She stood up straight.

‘Martin, thank you for your concern, but I can assure you, quite categorically, I have not been drinking.’ Karen’s day didn’t get much better. Despite her receding headache, her energy levels did not increase, and it was a struggle just to get through the afternoon. When the bell rang at half-past three and the last child had filed out of the room, Karen sat down at her desk and lay her forehead on the table.

Eventually she sat back, rubbed her eyes and looked at the pile of marking on her desk. Normally she’d run out the door, keen to get home. Today, as if punishing herself, she decided to stay at school and do the marking now, so she could collapse into bed immediately after dinner.

‘Fancy a drink?’ Laura stopped in to ask on her way out the door.

‘Thanks but no thanks,’ said Karen. ‘I’m exhausted. I’m going to get this marking done and head home.’

‘No worries, see you tomorrow.’

It wasn’t until nearly five o’clock that Karen packed up her bag and left the building. She wrapped herself up tightly against the cold November afternoon. She shivered as she stepped out of the warm school building and onto the icy pavement outside. At home she threw together some pasta for everyone, and much to her surprise, Mark came home early.

‘You’re back,’ she said.

‘I’m shattered. I didn’t sleep well last night.’

‘You’re just in time for dinner.’ She called up the stairs to the kids, laid the table and dished up the pasta. Ryan took the cheese from the fridge, Amy poured herself a glass of water and Mark sat down next to her.

‘Have you got football tonight?’ Mark asked Ryan. Ryan grunted yes. ‘What about you, Amy? Homework to do?’ He said this with a wry smile on his face. It was a family joke that Amy would do as little as possible and was happy to scrape a pass.

‘Ha, ha,’ she said with a fake smile. ‘You’re so funny, Dad.’

‘So what are your plans?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Are you going to Isla’s house?’

‘No,’ she mumbled, casting a glance at Karen. ‘We’re not speaking.’

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Fair enough. Well, I had a wonderful day,’ he said, looking around the table. ‘Thanks for asking everyone.’

‘How was your day?’ they chorused, making themselves laugh.

‘Will you be home this early every day?’ Amy asked.

‘Unfortunately not, at least not yet. Maybe once this office merger has finished.’ There were a few minutes of silence as everybody tucked into their food.

‘Who wants to watch Gogglebox with me tonight?’ Mark asked, looking at everyone.

‘I will,’ said Amy.

‘If I’m back from football in time, I will,’ said Ryan.

‘What about you, Karen?’

‘I’m knackered,’ she said. ‘I just want to go to bed.’

‘Oh, come on,’ pleaded Mark. ‘I’m never at home this early. Come and watch the television with me.’ He took his empty plate to the sink and as he passed he kissed the top of Karen’s head. She looked up at him and smiled.

‘Oh, alright then.’

Later, as the four of them sat in front of the television, Karen looked around the room and took secret pleasure in having everybody together, albeit for a short space of time. She looked at her daughter and not for the first time marvelled at how she could have produced such a beautiful child. Where Karen had mousy brown hair, Amy had rich, velvety, chocolate brown hair. Where Karen had hazel eyes, Amy had dark brown eyes. And where Karen was always critical of her own smile, she thought Amy’s smile glowed.

Ryan, it was fair to say, didn’t have his sister’s looks, but he wasn’t a bad-looking boy. His genuine talent lay in his brain. Not only was he clever, but he was diligent and hard-working. Even at 15, he showed a maturity she still didn’t possess.

By the time the television programme ended, Karen really was defeated. She lumbered her way up the stairs and toppled onto the bed. Her headache had gone by now, the pasta and cheese had satiated her body. All she needed now was sleep, and she’d be a new woman. And, she had to admit; it felt good going to bed with a clear head and know she wouldn’t have a hangover the next day. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Chapter 2

Mark listened intently. Jim Talbot, European Head of Human Resources, sat at the top of the table outlining the structural changes Mark’s company were about to go through. Brightstar Incorporated, an American firm, were expanding their reach in the UK, buying up small organisations in Birmingham, Manchester and Glasgow. Now they were exploring smaller towns, snapping up local companies that were doing well but needed a cash injection to boost revenue and increase performance.

Mark’s employer, Ferguson Automotives, was one of those small companies. As Head of Human Resources for the firm, Mark was instrumental in making redundancies and redefining job titles. What he didn’t know was whether his own job was on the line. He listened keenly to the presentation, watching out for a clue.

Calm by nature, Mark wasn’t prone to overreacting, but with each week that passed and they made no mention of his own security, he felt the muscles between his shoulders contract and tighten. He regularly caught himself easing the knots that formed between his shoulder blades.

‘Obviously this means there will be a few more redundancies,’ said Jim. ‘By letting go of a few we get to keep many. It’s not an easy decision, it never is, but it’s got to be done.’ He looked around the room. ‘Are you up to the challenge?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Mark, sounding more confident than he felt. He’d worked at Ferguson Automotives for nearly 10 years. He knew most of the 400 strong staff if not by name, then at least by sight. He’d watched young apprentices come to the assembly line and progress through the ranks. This was a firm that looked after its employees. Some staff had been there for nearly 30 years. Mr Ferguson, the former owner, liked to think of his company is an extended family, but when he retired with no successor, he sold it for a tidy profit and was now living the good life in Spain.

This should have relieved Mark from his worries because, as a senior member of staff, he was best placed to help the new owners settle in and continue business. Mark was one of four directors and together they were ensuring the smooth transition, but Mark wasn’t a fool. He knew that once the dust settled, there was every chance he’d be structured out of a job. If HR could be managed from Glasgow, there was no need for Mark in the Dumfries office.

‘Great,’ said Jim. ‘Let’s get to it.’ With that, the meeting was over.

Mark left and walked towards his office, head down. Inside, his habitual calm was cracking. It was time to demand an answer about his own job status. He turned around and headed back to the meeting room. ‘Jim,’ he said, ‘can I have a word?’

‘Take a seat.’

‘I’ve not heard any mention of my own position. Am I being let go?’

‘I don’t have an answer for you as yet.’

‘When will you? Like everyone else, I’m on tenterhooks, worrying every day whether I’ll be asked to clear my desk.’

‘I understand that.’

‘Do you?’

‘I do, and as soon as I know, I’ll tell you.’

‘Do you think I should be looking?’ Mark held his gaze intently.

‘Do you want to?’ Jim sat back in his chair, almost challenging Mark.

‘No, Jim, I don’t want to. I’ve worked here for a decade, I enjoy my job. I love this company and don’t want to leave. Nor do I want to be left high and dry.’

Frustrated at being fobbed off, Mark as good as slammed his office door shut. He hadn’t handled that conversation well and was cross with himself for not being more assertive.

It didn’t help that he was constantly tired. Karen’s drinking was keeping him up at night. She came to bed, if not drunk, then tipsy most evenings. She tossed and turned in bed, waking him as she did. The disrupted sleep fatigued him and it was harder to concentrate at work. Sometimes, when she’d drunk a lot, she said nasty things and while he knew she didn’t mean half of it, he wondered where it came from.

‘They might get rid of you,’ she’d said last night. ‘You’ve been there for a long time. They probably want younger, fresher blood in the firm.’ This was all perfectly true, but he didn’t need his wife falling into bed at 11 o’clock at night and reminding him his job was on the line.

Each morning he woke bright-eyed with nervous adrenaline, but the exhaustion left him not so bushy-tailed. This morning she was sound asleep when he got up. He’d stood over the bed and watched her. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping but he knew that by the time she came downstairs her forehead would be wrinkled with worry lines.

She’d taken on a troubled look these days, as if frightened a ghost was going to appear around every corner. He wondered what was going on behind her large hazel eyes, eyes that had transfixed him from their first flutter 20 years ago.

On the rare nights they sat, snuggled together on the sofa, he enjoyed playing with her long hair. Everything about her was so familiar. He knew every inch of her body, every expression on her face, every crook of her smile and glint in her eye. But the light had gone out of her. Her sparkle had faded, and he didn’t know why.

She was drinking heavily, that much was certain, but he didn’t feel it was his place to tell her not to. She was a grown woman after all, her own boss. She had a good career and had raised two fine children. Who was he to tell her how to spend her downtime? On the other hand, he could see her crumbling away and wanted to help. He didn’t care if it was old-fashioned; he wanted to save her, be her protector. He looked at his watch. It was 10.45 am, she’d be on morning break. This was a good time to call.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked when she picked up.

‘Fine,’ she said, her voice a little too chipper.

‘It was late when you came to bed last night.’

‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ she said, confirming she had no recollection of their conversation.

‘No,’ he lied. ‘I wanted to check you’re alright, that’s all.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said, impatient. ‘You don’t need to check up on me.’

‘I know. You just seemed rather… I worried you might have a sore head this morning.’

‘Not at all. I only had a couple of glasses. I’ve got to go, I’ll see you later.’

She didn’t sound hungover. If he’d gone to bed like that, he’d have sounded like death warmed up this morning. He couldn’t drink more than one glass of wine on a school night without suffering the next day. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. In fact, he was sure he was. Someone knocked on his office door and all thoughts of Karen disappeared from his head until Amy called later that afternoon.

‘She’s at the pub again.’

‘Who?’

‘Mum, who else? You’ve got to speak to her.’

‘How do you know she’s at the pub?’

‘I saw her go in with Miss McPhail.’

‘They’re allowed to unwind after work.’

‘Every day?’ Mark felt Amy rolling her eyes at him for being so old and stupid.

‘She doesn’t go every day.’

‘No, just most days. And she drinks at home. Dad, you’ve got to say something to her. This can’t go on.’

‘You’re worrying about nothing. I promise you, your mum’s fine.’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ve seen it happen on telly.’

‘Amy, this isn’t one of your soap operas.’

When he got home that evening, he hung his coat up on the usual peg and went through to the kitchen. ‘Hi love,’ he said to Karen, who was cooking dinner.

‘Hi, you’ve timed it perfectly. Dinner’s ready.’

‘Were you late home as well?’

‘What do you mean?’ Karen looked at him sharply.

‘It’s eight o’clock. Normally you’ve had dinner before I’m back.’

‘Oh, I see. I’m running late, that’s all. Do you want one?’ Karen raised a glass of wine.

‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ll go up and change.’

Throughout dinner Mark watched his wife, looking for any sign she had been to the pub as Amy claimed. Yes, she had a glass in her hand but was so compos mentis he concluded Amy was over reacting. After dinner he helped Karen stack the dishwasher and while doing so his phone rang. It was Brian.

‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked.

‘I’ll just check.’ He turned to Karen. ‘Any plans tonight? It’s Brian. He wants to go for a drink.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll see you there in 20 minutes.’

‘You’re going out now?’ Karen said.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s late.’

‘It’s not that late. I won’t be long and anyway, I haven’t seen Brian in ages. It’ll be nice to have a catch up.’

Mark enjoyed his walk down the Kirk Wynd to the High Street. After sitting at a desk all day, it was nice to get out and stretch his legs. It was dark. The streetlights were on and his footsteps echoed down the hill. Brian was already at the bar when he arrived. ‘What are you having?’ he asked.

There were a few familiar faces in the bar, and he waved or nodded to those he knew.

Mark and Brian stood at the bar. ‘How are the Americans treating you?’ Brian asked. ‘Have you still got a job?’

‘So far. I wish they’d tell me one way or the other.’

They chatted a little more, and eventually the conversation came to a natural lull. Mark cleared his throat and looked around to check no one was nearby.

‘Your wife,’ he said, ‘Cherry. Does she like a drink?’

‘As much as the next person, I guess,’ said Brian, surprised by the question. ‘A couple of times a week, maybe. She’s cut right back since we got together.’ Brian had sobered up a few years ago. ‘She’s been a godsend to me, you know, what with everything.’

‘When you were drinking, did you drink every day?’

‘What’s the sudden interest?’

‘I just wondered, that’s all.’ Brian gave him a look as if to say don’t kid a kidder. Mark looked around the pub again. ‘I’m worried about Karen.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘I’m worried she’s drinking too much.’

‘Is something on her mind? Stress at work, that sort of thing?’

‘Maybe,’ said Mark.

‘She’s probably worried about your job.’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah. You guys have a good lifestyle. If you lose your job you’ll be down to one income. That must worry her as much as you.’

‘You’re right, of course you are.’ It was like a lightbulb going on. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.’

‘Cherry might not drink when she’s stressed, but she eats. I’ve never seen anyone pack away as many chocolate bars as she does when she’s worried.’

‘Thanks Brian, you’ve put my mind at ease.’

Chapter 3

‘W hy can’t they tidy up after themselves?’ Karen muttered to herself. When she’d come into the kitchen, there were breakfast dishes spilling out of the sink, open jam jars and crumbs, milk cartons and cereal boxes covering the counters. ‘Spoilt brats.’

With a heavy heart, she began the mop up operation. When she put the milk back in the fridge, she saw a bottle of white wine sitting on the shelf. Just the sight of it made her feel noxious. She pulled it out and saw it was empty. Why had she put it back in the fridge? She put it outside in the wheely bin.

Walking to work did nothing to lift her spirits,