Jess’s gaze moved hungrily to the tawny liquid in the rum bottle. She was already imagining the fiercely hot flames burning in her chest, before they dimmed to cozy warmth and snuggled around her like a soft baby blanket. She was in no doubt the rum would take the edge off her sorrow and disappointment that, yet again, Libby was refusing to meet and talk. It would deaden the pain that although Nick loved Leo, she could no longer hide from the fact he didn’t love her. Although in this instance, the rum was a catch twenty-two. It reminded her of a younger Nick who’d enjoyed her company and her body as much as she’d enjoyed his. A drink would soften the ongoing disappointment that when it came to Libby, Nick was a weak and controlled man. Why else wasn’t he fighting harder for Leo?

It would numb the pain that she was the only person in her son’s corner.

And God help her, she wanted the oblivion the alcohol promised—she craved its anesthetizing reassurance.

“Screw it.” She reached for the bottle.

“Mommy.” Leo held out a plastic plate. “Num, now?”

Shame drenched her. Dear God, it was only lunchtime and she was contemplating her first drink. She made Leo a peanut butter sandwich, but she didn’t bother making herself anything. Her appetite had vanished a while ago—stress making her nauseous both with and without food. Given her unwanted weight gain, she was working on the theory that her body could use that fat as fuel instead of food. She cut up some fruit. Once he was safe and happy in his highchair, she grabbed the step ladder and the bottle of rum, climbed up and shoved the alcohol into the far recesses of the cupboard over the fridge. Stepping down, she folded the ladder and took it outside to the shed. The more obstacles she put between herself and a drink, the better for Leo.

“I am not Linda. I am not Linda. I refuse to be Linda,” she chanted under her breath.

Only right now she knew she’d come as close to following Linda down that self-destructive path as she’d ever come before. By the time Jess turned sixteen, her mother was specializing in day drinking. That Jess was even considering it terrified her. Should she go to a meeting? She shuddered at the thought. This town was too bloody small and if she was seen coming out of the old community center on a Friday night, it would only reinforce the long-held prejudices of narrow-minded people.