Her voice was icy, calm and controlled. ‘No, Mike, I don’t need anybody, I am not sick, okay? That’s final. I’ll see you tonight.’
Lorraine made no contact with the station. She checked the newspapers for articles on the case, but was afraid to read about herself. She was afraid, too, to be seen on the street and for the next few weeks she led a double life. When Mike left in the morning she did some housework and ordered in groceries. When Rita brought the girls home, she played with them, read to them and cooked dinner for Mike. He knew she was drinking but she denied it and he never saw her with a glass of alcohol in her hand. He had no idea that she spent her days sitting in front of the television with a bottle of vodka. She appeared sober, keeping herself at a sustained level, and every night he would look for empty bottles. Mike hid from himself that she was drinking consistently, partly because it meant less tension between them. He asked Rita to tell him if she ever saw Lorraine drinking, especially in front of the girls.
It was only a few weeks later that Rita called him. ‘You’d better come home, Mr Page. I don’t know where she is — she left the girls by themselves — anything could have happened.’
Mike drove like a madman back to the apartment. The children had been alone for most of the day. After Mike had calmed them, he asked Rita to stay with them, and went out in a blind fury to find his wife. After searching in vain for three hours, he called home. Rita was in tears: Lorraine was back, she was drunk, unable to stand upright. A cigarette in her hand, she apologized, telling him that she had had an important meeting. She seemed barely to hear him when he talked to her, and if he touched her she screamed abuse at him. Then, as if terrified of something or someone, she begged him to hold her tightly.
Next morning, shame-faced, she promised him he would never see her like that again. Never again would she touch a drop.
Mike coped as best he could. He instructed Rita never to leave Lorraine alone with the girls until he was at home. But the situation grew worse. Time and again he confronted her with empty bottles he found hidden around the apartment. She would swear she hadn’t had a drink and even accused Rita of planting the bottles.
Mike was at breaking point. He tried to understand Lorraine’s frame of mind by putting himself in her position — she had shot an innocent boy and had lost the job she had always been so proud of — but all he felt was shame and guilt, of which she showed none. She seemed more intent on blaming his success for her failure.
‘You spoiled it. You wanted us to move up and we were happy where we were.’ The continual goading made him feel she was pushing him physically to hurt her. ‘You were the housewife, but I was out on the streets. You were the mother, but I had to earn for both of us, out on the streets with my breasts still full of milk for my babies.’
No matter what he said she twisted it against him. If he had any guilt about those years when she had kept him and the children, it was soon dispersed by her venomous onslaughts. She exhausted him; night after night he would come home in dread to find her ready for a row. At other times, she would kneel at his feet and beg his forgiveness, pleading for him to carry her to bed. And yet she seemed incapable of tears.
In the end Mike went to Donny’s doctor friend. He needed to talk it over with someone. The doctor warned him that unless Lorraine sought help Mike would be dragged down with her. He encouraged him to leave her and thus force her into taking medical help. But Mike’s own guilt and his awareness of how much Lorraine had done for him, held him back. When his daughters became scared of their mother, though, Mike made one last attempt.
Lorraine finally agreed and he accompanied her, quiet and sober, to the doctor. She spent two hours with him, talking first with Mike present and then alone. After the appointment she had appeared almost triumphant, admonishing Mike for wasting money. There was, as she had said to him over and over again, nothing wrong with her.
Mike returned the following day and was told that Lorraine had insisted that she was perfectly all right and able to cope with no longer working. She had refused to give a blood test.
But the drinking carried on and the rift between them grew deeper. Lorraine adamantly refused to admit anything was wrong: she had her drinking under control. She was becoming sly; apparently sober, she continued to dress well but rarely left the apartment. Mike continued to find empty bottles hidden away.
Only six months after Lorraine had left the force, he filed for divorce. He refused to make her leave the apartment, and signed it over to her with the contents. She protested when he insisted on custody of the girls but otherwise seemed not to care. He gave her five thousand dollars and promised three thousand a month in alimony. She was strangely elated when he brought the papers for her signature, which made him suspect that she didn’t believe he would go through with it. But she signed with a flourish and smiled.
‘You do understand what you’ve signed, don’t you, Lorraine?’ Mike asked quietly.
‘Yes.’
He gripped her tightly. ‘I’m leaving and taking the girls but call me if you need me, and I’ll do whatever I can to help. You need help, Lorraine, all I want is for you to acknowledge it.’ He felt wretched. She helped him pack, kneeling to lock the suitcase. She was wearing a pale blue denim shirt and her feet were bare. Her hair shone as she bent over the cases. Mike wanted to hold her, to make love to her. This was madness.
The Pattersons came to help with the cases. The girls, clasping Tina’s hands, thought they were going on holiday. It had taken only the afternoon to get everything packed and out, such a short time after all the years they had been together.
‘Tina’s going to take the girls in their car. Do you want to say goodbye to them?’ Mike asked.
‘No. I don’t want to upset them.’ She heard her daughters asking if they were going to see their granny and why was Mommy staying behind? She heard Tina reassuring them that Mommy would be coming to see them. She heard Donny call out that everything was in the car. She heard Mike say he would be out in a few minutes. She heard Rita saying goodbye, her voice breaking as if she was crying.
Mike walked into the kitchen. Lorraine turned and held up the glass. ‘Just milk.’
He leaned on the table. ‘I don’t want to go, Lorraine.’
‘Doesn’t look that way to me.’
‘I love you.’
She tossed her hair away from her eyes. ‘I love you too, Mike.’
There seemed nothing left to say. He crossed to her, reached out and held her in his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, the way she always used to. He could smell lemons, a clean, sweet smell of freshly washed hair, and he tilted up her face and kissed her. She had the most beautiful clear blue eyes he had ever seen. She seemed to look straight through him, yet her lips had a soft sweet smile.
‘Promise me you’ll get help?’
‘I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me, Mike.’
Donny Patterson sat in the car. He watched Mike walk slowly down the path, looking as if he was crying.
‘You okay, partner?’
Mike got into the car and blew his nose. ‘I feel like such a prick. She doesn’t seem to understand what’s just happened.’
Donny put his arm round his friend. ‘Look, buddy, I been through this three times. It’s not easy, but, Jesus, now it’s over you’re gonna feel such relief. She’s got problems. You tried every way to help her, Mike.’
‘Maybe we’ll get back together,’ Mike said.
Donny gripped Mike’s knee. ‘Christ almighty. When are you gonna face facts? She’s a drank and she was dragging you down with her. If she won’t get help, you’re gonna have to forget her, act like she’s dead. Believe me, it’s the best way. Say to yourself she’s dead, be a hell of a lot easier.’