“What the hell are you doing on my laptop?” Alex snarled, looming over Eleanor. She had never seen him like this before.
Eleanor had just come home from school when the sharp scent of alcohol hit her in the hallway. A deep, ragged snore rumbled from the living roomher father was drunk again. She marched straight to the kitchen.
Her mother stood at the sink, peeling potatoes. Hearing footsteps, she turned. Eleanors sharp eyes locked onto the swollen, reddened cheek.
“Mum, we have to leave him. How much longer can we take this? One day, hell kill you,” Eleanor said, voice trembling with anger.
“And go where?” her mother sighed. “Whod want us? We cant afford rent. Dont worry, lovehe wont kill me. Hes a coward. Only brave enough to take it out on me.”
The next morning, strange noises jolted Eleanor awake. She crept into the kitchen and froze. Her father stood by the stove, head tipped back, gulping straight from the kettle. She watched, mesmerized, as his Adams apple bobbed violently. The water gurgled down his throat like a clogged drain. *Drown, you bastard. Just drown.*
But he didnt. He set the kettle down with a satisfied sigh, bloodshot eyes flicking to her before he staggered off to the bathroom.
Eleanor shuddered, knowing her mother would refill the kettle without washing away his spit and stench. She grabbed it and scrubbed until her hands burned, swearing shed never drink from it unwashed again.
That winter, Eleanors class took a trip to Manchester. When she returned, her mother was in hospital.
“Did he do this?” she demanded, staring at the bandages.
Her mother shook her head. “Slipped on ice, love.”
But Eleanor knew she was lying.
Years of blows to the head had left her mother with high blood pressure. Six months later, she had a stroke and died. At the wake, her father wept drunken tearsone minute mourning his beloved Mary, the next cursing her name.
He warned Eleanor she was just like her mother. Threatened to kill her if she ever tried to leave.
Eleanor counted the days until graduation. She skipped prom. The next morning, she collected her diploma in secret. While her father was at work, she packed her things and ran.
He gave her money for food, and she saved every spare penny. Sometimes, she even stole from his wallet while he slept. It wasnt much, but it was enough. Shed find workstudies could wait.
She wasnt afraid hed come looking. The whole neighbourhood knew his habits. No one would help him find her.
She moved to London, rented a cheap flat on the outskirts, and got a job at a fast-food place. They helped with her medical certification, gave her free meals. When they learned she was studying accounting, they put her on the till.
Boys tried flirting. “Theyre all sweet at first,” her mother used to say. “Then they start drinking or cheatingI dont know which is worse. Dont fall for their pretty words, love. I was beautiful once too. Your father didnt drink when we met. We were happy. Where did it all go?”
Eleanor remembered. She ignored them. Shed seen how her fathers love turned.
Payday meant stocking uppasta, sugar, tinned goods, anything that lasted. Her father drank his wages, but there was always food, even if it was plain. Now, she did the same.
One evening, arms straining under a heavy bag, she collided with a boy glued to his phone.
“Sorry,” he said, finally looking up.
She wanted to snap, but his warm, curious gaze disarmed her.
“Salright. Wasnt looking either,” she muttered, forcing a smile.
He offered to help. Reluctantly, she handed over the bag. No one with a smile that bright could be bad.
His name was Alex. He walked her homebut she wouldnt let him near her door.
The next day, he showed up at her work. “Just passing by,” he said. She didnt believe him.
They started seeing each other. Alex was honestdivorced, with a little girl he adored. Hed given his ex the flat, crashed with a mate. “Married too young,” he admitted. “We had nothing in common. Days would pass without a word.”
He talked about his daughter constantly. Maybe he was safe. A month later, he suggested moving in.
“Lets get a nicer place, closer to town. Easier together.”
Eleanor agreed. For the first time, she let herself hopea real family. They found a bright flat, celebrated with cheap wine. She didnt dream of weddings. But Alex didtwo kids, a boy and a girl. She almost believed him.
He paid two months rent upfront. By the third, his tone turned sheepish…
Eleanor took one last look at the flat, then shut the door behind her, whispering to the son waiting in the NICU: “Well be alright, darling. Well be far away from all of this.”
