2.
A Failed Intervention.
That one night turned into days. Days turned into months. A month into a year. And now the young couple stood at the end of a particularly dingy street, facing a particularly tiny and decrepit house in the dodgy end of Cokeworth. The textile mill in which Tobias had recently managed to acquire new work loomed over them like a particularly foreboding cloud.
Spinner's End, the street was called. It was certainly fitting…
It had been the cheapest place they could find on his pittance of a wage, but she had to admit as she crossed over the abode once more and glanced around at the cosy living room surrounded by bookshelves, and the little kitchen barely big enough to fit both of them at the same time, it wasn't half-bad. It had been a good find.
She hoped it would make a good home.
Perhaps, were it not for the fact that there was a pub just a few streets down from the house, it would have done. At least that's what Eileen had to tell herself.
They had married at the registry office a while before Tobias's drinking had gotten a bit out of hand. Sure, he would have the occasional spree on payday (not that she approved - but he worked hard and always made sure that food was on the table, she thought it only fair to let him have his fortnightly splurge) and come home a little more aggressive and randy than usual… but it was nothing she could not cope with. Their fights only lasted a few hours at most; they always ended up making up and making love afterward, and everything went back to normal again.
But then the fortnightly sprees turned into weekly sprees. Weekly antics turned into twice-weekly antics. It was probably at this point where she began to feel a little concerned. Their money was dwindling and they had bills up to their eyeballs.
She managed to catch him on a sober moment one morning before work. He used to be quite pleasant on his sober moments - that was until the alcohol began to poison his nature permanently.
"Toby…" Eileen started gently over her morning Muggle newspaper she had curled up on the chair with with a mug of hot coffee after she had finished cooking the breakfast. "Come sit next to me for a moment…"
"Can't," he stated defiantly, rummaging around in the kitchen drawers. "Already going to be late as it is. Have you seen my bloody keys? They were here last night!"
"Toby…" she said again, more forcefully. It made him stop and turn to face her.
"No pub tonight, please," she requested imploringly. "It's…" the words hung on the tip of her lips just aching to be said, but she couldn't bear to see him weakened by them. "I need to pay the electricity bill before it gets cut again." she settled on.
"But it's Parker's birthday today. We were just going to go out for an hour or so for a drink!" he objected pathetically. Eileen sighed. Considering the amount of 'birthday parties' he attended, he was the most popular man in all of Manchester. She was starting to get mighty sick of his lies.
"So a few drinks is worth an entire week of sitting in the dark surrounded by candles, it is?" she sniped viciously.
Toby shrugged carelessly. "Wouldn't mind, actually. Be quite romantic wouldn't it?"
Eileen shot daggers at him. "If you mean between you and your hand, then yes!"
"Ah, Ei - don't be like that."
"I'm warning you!" her hand clasped down on the paper violently. "If you stumble in as pissed as anything tonight after squandering all of our money I am taking a vow of chastity for the rest of my life!"
"You just don't want me to be happy!"
"You -" Eileen started, her voice trembling in her anger. She closed her eyes and took a breath… it would not do to come in guns blazing. It would only push him away further. "You're not well, Toby."
Tears stung her eyes.
He took a beat before he answered her. He would not meet her gaze now.
"Now't wrong with me, woman. I'm as fit as I ever was."
That masculine working-class mentality of his. If he wasn't bleeding out profusely then he was as fit as he ever was. A year ago it was irresistibly rugged… now it just infuriated her. She crossed over to him and held him supportively by the shoulders, she didn't want to give him any other choice but to look at her.
"Don't go to that pub," she pleaded. "Christ, Tobias, it's like you enjoy making me so unhappy sometimes."
"I don't," he assured her, reaching out to cup her cheek. "Of course I don't, Ei. I just..."
Her eyes widened, willing him to tell her what he was feeling.
"What, my love?" she pressed gently.
He frowned.
"What? I just want to celebrate with the lads, is all. Not a crime is it?"
Her whole body felt like it was deflating like a balloon. How could she have been so stupid as to believe that anything truly introspective would ever come out of his stupid dunderheaded mouth? She sniffed in annoyance.
"Well, good luck finding the couch in the dark when you come back, you blundering imbecile!" she seethed. "Because that's where you'll be for the next month!"
"Good! I could do without your nagging for once!"
With that, he had stalked out from the house and to work, returning momentarily when he had forgotten to pick up the keys that he been previously searching for. He found them on the living room table and gave his wife a quick look of contempt before he left once more. It took Eileen a few minutes to stop shaking… she then calmly returned to studying the crumpled Muggle newspaper.
He did indeed come stumble back late that night. Eileen had made sure that she was in bed and pretending to be asleep before he returned. It was always easier that way… rows could be avoided and he could sleep it off and return to being sober Toby the next morning - and she would not hate him so much that way.
Hate herself more like…
