Arriving home after the aborted ambulance call for help, Laura demanded a handful of paracetamol. I said no.

She insisted on taking paracetamol. She made her way to the medicine drawer. I blocked her access. She swayed in front of me. ‘I need them,’ she said. I gave her two. A choked laugh spat from her throat. ‘These are no good to me, give me six.’

‘Absolutely not.’ I ushered her upstairs, settled her in bed. I went downstairs to wait for Husband to come through the door.

Laura shouted down to me. She appeared on the landing demanding attention.

I shot back up the stairs. ‘Please be quiet, and go to sleep. Please let Dad come into a peaceful home. Let me explain to him what’s happened.’

Laura was having none of it.

My anxiety wrapped around my organs, like ivy around a vine.

Husband’s key slid in the lock.

Laura rushed down to confront him. He took a step back. I encouraged him to take a seat before I told him what had occurred.

He stared into space taking in all I said. Laura stood in the doorway, with her arms folded. ‘Why won’t he look at me?’ She demanded.

I could feel Husband’s temper rise. I begged him to go to our married daughter. I was worried he would flip his lid.

He went.

We stayed home, Laura and I.

Married sister was unhappy Dad had left me alone with the unpredictable child.

He returned home.

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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