CHAPTER 2

Niles didn't question what he was doing and why, or he knew his courage would falter. It was a dark November afternoon, the sky looking like night at just 3pm as he got off his taxi carrying a big envelope that made him look like he was on business. The doorman knew him from various errands or from taking CC home late at night on occasions, and soon he was on the way up to the penthouse.

He rang the doorbell and what followed was very much what he expected, that is CC's voice screaming:

"Who is it? I don't want to see anyone, go away!"

The voice was still hoarse and the words still slurred, which made Niles worry not just a little.

He sighed: "Miss Babcock, it's me, Niles, I would like to talk to you, please?"

He heard her scoff loudly. "Did you hear me? I said go away, not only I don't want to see anyone, you're literally the last person I want to see… well you, and that sissy of your boss, and his laughable fiancée."

"Please Miss Babcock, I would like to help out."

She laughed her most cruel laugh and screamed at the top of her lungs "GO AWAAAAY! Go to hell, Niles!"

He lowered his head, defeated, but didn't move from behind her door, considering what else he could do. After a minute or two, without even thinking, he pushed the door a little and found out it was open. She had accidentally left it open, no doubt due to her intoxicated state! He took a deep breath and walked in.

He was grateful for that deep breath because it was clearly going to be the last good one for a while. The air in the room was thick with smoke and smelled of alcohol - the two combined were reminiscent of a seedy bar at 2am, not the expensive apartment of a rich New York woman in the middle of the afternoon. If his sense of smell was overwhelmed, his sense of sight was not pleased at the horrifying show in front of his eyes. CC was sitting on the floor, between a low coffee table and the sofa, where her back was leaning. She was wearing silk dark blue pyjamas and she was barefoot. Her hair was messy, and her makeup was all over her face, with lines that looked like the path tears had taken down her cheeks. A golden-brown liquid was in the glass in her hand, the half-empty bottle on the table. Next to the sofa, on the floor, an identical, empty bottle, and two empty bottles of wine. Niles prayed some of them were leftovers from the night binge and had not all been consumed in the last few hours. As he entered the room, she was taking a deep drag of her cigarette, her head looking up and her eyes closed, savouring the moment.

When she faced in front of her again and opened her eyes, anger flickered all over her face and body, as she said surprisingly softly:

"Do you want me to call the doorman, or maybe the police straight away, or will you go by yourself?"

She looked around for her phone but her hazy vision couldn't locate it and her mind sounded some strange alarm bells. Something to do with something wrong that had happened with the phone, but she couldn't quite recall…

She shrugged and gave up on the plan, unable to focus on anything for long. He felt bold and took two steps in, still uninvited.

"Miss Babcock… I couldn't help but feel worried about you after this morning…" He wanted to add "and after the message from last night" but he wasn't sure she remembered that at all. Probably not.

She scoffed. "And since when do you worry about me? Or were you already so bored that you need to pretend to be my friend again, so that I can entertain you for a couple of hours before you drop me like a used tissue and go back to your pathetic friend from Queens and her pathetic husband-to-be?"

Niles bit his lip. He could totally see how she would perceive his actions that way. He had nothing to say in his defence.

"I am sorry, Miss Babcock. I truly am, and maybe that's why I came here. To tell you how sorry I am that I treated our friendship so lightly instead of supporting you as things became maybe a bit… difficult for you lately."

She looked at him with eyes that seemed to mock him, then looked away. He felt even bolder and grabbed a small glass from the counter near where he was standing, went to sit on the armchair next to her sofa, and poured himself some rum from her bottle. He was not intending to go on a binge himself, but a bit of liquid courage had never hurt anyone… not him, in any case.

She looked at him, puzzled and tired, and tired was her voice:

"Niles, please...why are you here to torture me? I cannot stand the sight of you, or of anyone from that house. You all make me feel sick. Do you realise how humiliating it is to be there, day in and day out? As she slowly but surely gets everything she wants while she takes it away from me? While you cheer her on and undermine me at every step? I am tired of it, tired of it all."

As she finished speaking, she took one last drag from her cigarette and stubbed it out, then poured a generous amount of rum into her glass and downed it all, greedily. The burn in her throat felt at the same time like the perfect punishment for being such a loser, and the only feeling strong enough to prove to herself that she was still alive.

She enjoyed the sensation for a few seconds, then her eyes grew big in horror and she raised a hand to her mouth. She stood up clumsily and not without difficulty from the floor she was on. Confused, Niles moved to help her up but she pushed him away - granted, that made her lose her balance and almost fall flat on the floor, but she held on to a nearby chair, but she felt it was worth it as she found it necessary to keep him at bay. Once up, she moved as fast as she could towards a corridor, where Niles saw her enter a room and bang the door.

He assumed that was the bathroom and she was feeling ill. Uhm, great. He rubbed his face with his hands for a few seconds then looked around him. For the first time, he noticed that the TV was on, just on silent, so he turned the volume up so that he would not… hear… any noise from the bathroom. He felt nervous - how could he get her to move on from that desperate state of mind, and make her understand that his apology was sincere and he was willing to help her? No one deserved to feel that way, not even Babcock. And they had grown closer over the years, and he had to admit that it had been fun to be friends, so maybe he did want the best for her, after all.

He grew more and more nervous as she wasn't coming back from the bathroom - it had been what? At least fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Maybe she was just hiding there to avoid him? It wasn't impossible, but what if she needed help instead? She was really out-of-her-mind-drunk, to a dangerous level.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Miss Babcock, are you okay in there?"

No answer. He knocked louder. "Miss Babcock, do you need any help?"

Silence. "May I come in? Are you decent? I'm coming in."

He opened the door slowly, giving her time to scream if she needed to. He looked into the room and saw her on the floor, passed out, by the sink, sitting with her back to the wall. Water was running weakly from the tap, and a toothbrush was in the sink, like it had been thrown in. It looked like she had felt that she was passing out while brushing her teeth after being sick, and had had the time to try and close the tap and lean on the wall to support her fall.

He ran some cold water from the tap and he cupped some in his hands, then kneeled down next to her and sprinkled water on her face until she stirred and her eyes fluttered open, looking confused and not recognising him.

He helped her stand up and then held her from behind to the sink, giving direction in a soft voice: "Come on, Babcok, let's wash your face and wake you up a bit".

She seemed confused about what to do and he guided her hand, but soon gave up and poured water on her face with his hand, while still holding her with the other. He probably should have just put her head under the shower, he thought, but this seemed to slowly work, too. He looked in the mirror at his reflection as he held her, and then looked at her as she stood straight after bending to the sink. And he suddenly thought she looked so beautiful, even in her pitiful state, with red eyes, smudged make-up and messy hair. What sick thought is running through your head now, old boy? He thought to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a slurred plea. "Niles… my head... hurts so much… what's happening?"

"What do you think is happening, you were trying to drink yourself to death for all I know!" He replied, harsher than he had intended.

Her eyes widened and she tried to hit him but had very little control of her movements right then. "Then why don't you let me finish the job? Then you'll be free and happy, as will be the rest of your household."

His heart physically hurt at her words. "Don't be silly," he whispered gently, caressing her arms. "Let's finish washing your face and then I'll help you to bed." He pushed more water to her face and, totally confused, she let him do it. Did he want her dead or not? That gentle tone reminded her of times when they had been close, and the rare tenderness of his gestures hurt her immensely.

He walked her to her bedroom, which he found easily even if he had never been to that part of the penthouse.

"I'll be right back." He said, and went to the kitchen to look for the biggest glass he could find - she wasn't a beer drinker but he was happy to see that she owned two pint glasses, and he filled both with water. "There, drink", he handed her a glass of water which she drank eagerly, admitting to herself that it felt good.

"I am leaving this glass here," he said as he placed it on her nightstand, "with these aspirins. Take them and drink the water when you wake up." He said as he pushed her to lie down and tucked her in. She nodded again while she looked up at the room spinning, but as soon as she hit the pillow she realised she was able to sleep, and it didn't take long for her to fall asleep.

As CC looked peaceful, Niles left the room. It was almost 5pm so he didn't have a lot of time before going back to work, but he went into her living room and opened all the windows as wide as he could, letting the cold air in. Then he tidied up as best as he could, with Chester following him playfully. He then went to look for any other alcohol besides the bottle that was still on the coffee table. He found several opened bottles and a few unopened. He searched through all the cupboards until he found some plastic bags, he just knew that there must be some together with the products her cleaner must keep there. If he was going to leave, he was making sure that she couldn't find anything more to drink.

He peeked into the bedroom and, seeing her fast asleep, he left to resume his butler duties for the night, carrying with him a few clinking bags of assorted booze.