As soon as they were gone, Dennis began to wail, ‘She’s making it up. They’re all making it up.’
‘Ah, you’re grand,’ Chalkie patted him. ‘Come for a cup of tea.’
‘Tea,’ Giles said. ‘And biscuits.’
‘But she’s ruined my good name!’
‘I know, I know …’
As soon as they got Dennis back into group, they’d hit him with the truth, but for the moment they were his friends, his comrades, they understood his shame and fear and all they wanted to do was mind him.
… with the exception of Ella, who, right now, was watching him with contempt.
34
After lunch, when I led Chalkie’s partner Skye into group, Ella had to suppress a squeak of distress – because Skye was gorgeous: a mixed-race beauty oozing charm and intelligence.
Bronte, by contrast, barely blinked, just let her eyes glance over Skye in a careless, uninterested way. Very impressive. Because no matter how cool she played it, no matter how much Chalkie appeared to disapprove of her, there was a spark there, potent enough to power Dublin for a week.
This was Skye’s second visit to group because I was fast running out of ideas to break Chalkie. Rixer, the young man whose bail money Chalkie had stolen, had sat in this room and detailed the ways Chalkie’s theft had derailed his life. It should have been devastating, but Rixer was too fond of Chalkie to really put the boot in.
The route to breaking an addict’s denial was usually via the testimony of a person they loved. Chalkie cared about dozens of people – most of them members of disadvantaged communities – but from what I could see, there were only three people he actually loved: Skye and his two children.
‘Chalkie,’ Skye was saying. ‘If you relapse, you’ll die. I don’t think you’re getting that.’
My fear was that Chalkie was getting it and didn’t care.
‘Up to now, you’ve been lucky,’ she said. ‘Every time you’ve relapsed, you’ve survived. But one day you won’t come back.’
‘Ah, Skye … Baby, don’t cry. I’m not worth it.’
‘This is what I mean!’ she declared. ‘You put no value on yourself! But so many people love you.’
‘Chalkie,’ I said. ‘Is there anything you’re consciously aware of that’s holding you back?’
He sighed. ‘The God thing. I can’t do it.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘Ah, don’t gimme that! I’ve been to NA meetings, they’re always going on about God. You know my feelings on religion.’
Well, I sensed I was about to find out …
‘“Religion was invented when the first conman met the first fool.” So said Mark Twain. Listen, I want to stay away from heroin, but don’t insult my intelligence and ask me to believe in God.’
I knew how he felt. For a long time, I thought only stupid people believed in all of that.
Twenty years earlier, Nola had told me, ‘It doesn’t have to be the hairy oul’ know-all in the sky, but you need something. If a normal person has a disaster, they can cope with their feelings. But the likes of you and me? We’re not able. So we need to involve something else, bigger and better than us. Even if it’s imaginary.’
To Chalkie, I said, ‘The god they talk about in meetings has nothing to do with organized religion. Is it the word “god” that’s too much? Could you use “higher power” instead?’
‘It’s the concept, missus! Why does there have to be anything at all?’
‘Because addicts are egomaniacs. They tend to become their own gods. But your higher power can be anything, Chalkie. Anything other than you. Pretend, Chalkie. Fake it till you make it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because recovery is easier when you accept that you don’t control everything. In fact, life is easier if you live it that way.’
Despite my own initial resistance, a cloudy, amorphous almost-belief had eventually settled, when I noticed that, no matter what was going on for me, I always felt better after an NA meeting. Even when I hadn’t wanted to go. Even when several of the people there annoyed me. Somehow, by the time the last person had finished sharing, I could appreciate how our collective spirit created something greater and better than the sum of our individual energies.
If ever I tried to analyse the magic, it fell apart immediately. But eventually I could connect with that feeling even when I wasn’t at a meeting.