Mimi shifted in her seat, trying to figure out what she could say, how she could get out of driving without seeming like she was being a bitch. The truth was, there was no way she should be driving. Not after the couple of drinks she’d had right before they’d left home. Although then again, it wasn’t like it had really affected her. She wasn’t feeling drunk. But no, after that time she’d taken Callie driving and they’d passed the RBT, she’d promised herself she would never take that risk again. And the twins were in the back. Taking the wheel when she was over the limit would be grossly irresponsible.

But what was more irresponsible? Letting a tired person, who was actually saying they felt too tired, keep driving? Or driving herself despite being potentially over the limit when she felt perfectly sober.

She hadn’t been planning on having anything to drink today. But then Callie had made that crack about Mimi not thinking she was a good enough driver, and the bottle had seemed to call out to her. The plan had been for Pete to sit up front while Callie drove, and Mimi to sit in the back with Tara and the twins, so there’d been no danger in her having a quick drink. Just a little something to help her relax before a long trip with four children.

Obviously, her sneaky lemonade bottle was now gone, thanks to Jill pouring it out yesterday. And to be honest, she’d wondered if that was yet another wake-up call. A reason to stop hiding the gin in the fridge. But the problem was, she still wanted it. She still wanted that way to relax. That way to escape. And so, she’d hid in the pantry and poured herself a quick shot.

She was only going to have the one. But it went down easy. So, she poured a second shot. And then, as usual, it took longer than expected to get everyone out the door and into the car, to pack all the bags and the boogie boards and the esky. So there’d been time to sneak back for another one. A generous pour for that shot. Then a final glass on the way out the door — one for the road. It had given her a pleasant but short-lived buzz.

That’s what seemed to happen these days. She’d developed such a tolerance for alcohol that in order to get any kind of feel-good effect from it, she had to pretty much skol a few drinks in quick succession and then she’d get her happy buzz. But the buzz would always wear off too quickly and leave her feeling irritable, headachy, sticky-mouthed and stone-cold sober again.

‘Are you really that tired?’ Mimi asked.