The house was calm, when Husband returned home from Married Daughter’s. Bella was asleep in bed.

We had a cup of tea, maybe even three. Exhausted but wide awake, we retired to our bed.

‘Lock the door,’ Husband said. The bedroom door lock was redundant, never used at all.


‘Lock the door, I don’t trust her.’

I slid the lock in full, as quietly as I could. We lay in bed, and whispered our chat.

Husband and I were due to go on holiday, we would cancel the trip, and take care of our daughter. We would take her to the doctor when morning came our way.

Hardly a wink of sleep between us; the hall clock chimed six.

I went to Bella’s bedroom, she slept like a baby–my baby still.

I shook her by the shoulder, told her Dad and I had plans, told her it was the doctor’s we would go, all three, together–a family sharing a problem.

‘Okay,’ she said. Rolled over for comfort, and fell back asleep.

‘No, you can get out of bed. We need to sort this out.’

‘I’ll go to the doctor this afternoon,’ she mumbled, not budging.

You can get up now, or you can go home.’

‘I’ll go home.’

I was livid. I ran downstairs for bin bags, flung all her stuff in. Pulled the duvet off her clothed body and ordered her out of bed.

I took her home, pushed her through the door, and dumped her bags in the hall.

Addict Child by Lesley Sefton buy on amazon

I am the mother of two adult daughters, both much loved and cared for. The eldest thought she could handle social drinking and party drugs, she could not. There is a journey addicts relate to - their journey. As a mother I have healed through the written word. This is my journey.

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