It was the admission he needed to push her slightly harder, "I'd say so." He said gently, "Shall we talk about it?"

At the question she shrugged, her eyes clouding again, "What's to talk about Charlie? My relationship with Grace is a mess. My relationship with Jacob is a mess. I'm," she sighed, glancing down at Jacob's scrub top which – if Charlie was going to be brutally honest – looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks, "a mess. Are you getting the idea?"

Charlie was, and it wasn't just the wine and tears that were informing his conclusions. It wasn't just the size of the unwashed top that made it look so big, she'd obviously lost weight, and her behaviour at work of late was a real cause for concern. She rarely made it out into the department, generally shirking her responsibility to her patients and spending as much time as possible locked away in her office. Charlie had tried to be patient, and encourage those around him to be likewise, but things had clearly been coming to ahead for a while.

That said, he wasn't about to raise work with her there and then. One step at a time, after all, and perhaps if he could get her to work through her other issues, the work problem might right itself.

"Let's start with Grace." He said firmly, giving her no room for manoeuvre. "Tell me about tonight."

Connie sighed, once again looking reluctant to talk. "She started going on about not wanting to go to school tomorrow. She knew I was off and wanted to spend the day with me. I said she couldn't."

"Well that's fair enough." Charlie remarked supportively, "It's nice that she wants to spend time with you but education is important, Connie. It's your job as her mother to put your foot down."

Connie shook her head tiredly, "You don't get it. It's not that simple. She didn't want to go to school because she doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm going to be," she laughed bitterly, "what was it she said? Oh yes, 'booty calling' Jacob the minute her back is turned."

Booty calling wasn't a phrase Charlie was familiar with but he had an imagination and could work it out, and couldn't help but agree with Connie that if that was the motive behind Grace wanting to stay off school it was clearly an indicator of greater issues with the mother daughter relationship.

"Is she right to be worried?" He asked hesitantly, afraid that Connie might take offence at the question, but to his relief she just laughed again.

"Does this look like the face of a woman whose getting laid?"

Having seen her 'woman getting laid face' Charlie had to concur that the pale drawn and exceptionally sad looking one in front of him was not indicative of any kind of extracurricular activities occurring.

"Did you try to reassure her?" he asked, and in response, Connie sighed tiredly, her frustration more than clear,

"I've tried to reassure her until I'm blue in the face but she won't let it go. She's like a jealous husband. I have to let her see my emails, she checks my texts, she calls me 20 times a day if we're not together. I don't know what else I can do."

Charlie had always had his suspicions that Grace was not the most 'together' child he had ever met, but Connie's confession seriously concerned him, and he wasn't sure what worried him most, Grace's insecurities, the extent to which she was using them to manipulate Connie or the fact that Connie was allowing herself to pushed around by her daughter. It was no wonder she wasn't dealing with things well if she was dealing with such behaviour constantly. He couldn't help thinking that the two of them needed some external support from the professionals, and made a conscious decision to give Connie the details of one of his family counselling acquaintances just as soon as she sobered up.

He was curious however as to why Grace, if she was as clingy as Connie was suggesting, would disappear off to her Grandmother's leaving her mum home alone, presumably completely capable of picking up her phone and making a far more appropriately timed night time 'booty call'. He asked Connie, but she just shrugged,

"She's a hormonal pre-teen, there is no rhyme or reason. It's what makes her so hard to deal with. One minute she's smothering me and not letting me have a second to myself and the next," she drained her glass, with a sigh, "the next she's walking out on me to punish me for everything I've ever said and done wrong." She got to her feet, "Another drink?"

He opened his mouth to say that he thought she'd had enough but before he could she silenced him with her trademark death stare, before moving to one corner of the room, where her usually well stocked cocktail cabinet was looking slightly depleted. She picked up one of the remaining bottles, an excellent looking single malt, and two tumblers and then made her way back to him, looking like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Of course the worst thing is," she returned to the subject of Grace as she sloshed out two very generous measures, "I'm glad she's gone. I should feel hurt and punished and all the things she wants me to feel, but I don't. I feel relieved."

"Because you don't have to deal with her tantrums and threats?" Charlie asked her carefully, being sure to as sound as non-judgemental as possible.

Connie nodded, looking embarrassed, "Partly, but also because if she's not standing in front of me, I don't resent her so much."

"You resent her?" He asked gently, again keeping his tone as neutral as he could.

Giving a second nod, she knocked her whisky back in one, "You bet I do, because if it wasn't for her, I'd still have Jacob."