‘Ah Mam, I was just having a bit of craic. I didn’t mean to get so drunk. I’m really sorry, OK?’
‘I don’t want an apology, Ailbh. You’re a grown woman but you can’t behave like that. Tilly could’ve been hurt. This is serious.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, Mam. I don’t feel like myself at the moment. I’m just—’
At that moment, she heard Tom’s key in the door and abruptly abandoned her explanation to Eileen. She slipped through the hall and up the stairs before he could catch her. She needed to be fresh if she was to have any hope of convincing him that she wasn’t hung-over to feck.
In the big bathroom adjoining the master bedroom, she stood in the shower gulping water from the boiling hot stream thundering down on to her. Once she was out, she checked her phone. Instagram was her first port of call. Any time she was drinking lately, even just a few wines, she’d inevitably end up on Seb Knox’s profile, so she had to make sure she hadn’t left any disastrous likes or comments. Thankfully it was all clear. A couple of Reddit notifications alerted her to a question she must’ve posted in the depths of the night after the party. It was on the reddit.com/Ireland/American-visa-queries thread.
Hey everyone, so I have an outstanding fine that kind of escalated into a court summons left over from my J1 (good times!). I am now forty-two and supposed to be going to America with my husband in a few weeks and I’m just working up the courage to send the application. I’m applying for a tourist visa and can’t decide whether to just come out with it or try and style it out. Like, not sure if the old fine will crop up during this process. I’d obviously prefer it not to! My husband doesn’t really know the old me.
He barely knows the current me. Hahahahaha.
Anyway, if anyone has any ideas/experience of this, that’d be class. I’m supposed to be sending my forms asap.
Jesus I do not remember writing this. I sound demented.
The post had a dozen or so comments and Ailbhe eagerly leaned in.
lg412: Ooof this one’s so hard to know. I’ve a friend who was just doing the ESTA visa for a week in New York and she had a J1 arrest warrant. She decided to risk it for a biscuit and it was totally fine. Never came up. Good luck, hope this helps.
MickyGreenEyes: Ah the old J1 arrest is a tricky one. Know LOADS of lads who haven’t been let back in since San Diego 2003!!! What a year. Carnage. The greatest horseplay of all time.
Ailbhe frowned. What if America wouldn’t let her in? What would Tom say? Before Fielding’s birthday party, she would’ve said Tom could handle the hangover from a bit of youthful high jinks. But given he’d witnessed the mild tear yesterday, she felt a Ket-addled run-in with the law resurfacing now would not be good.
Plus not getting into America would be a disaster. A key component of her new life being Tom’s wife was putting some big distance between her andpast run-ins. She’d didn’t like to think about it, but she’d put a lot more eggs in this emigrating basket than she was comfortable admitting.
She smoothed serum over her face and sat on the edge of the bath to catch up with the Snag List WhatsApp. Lindy sounded hyped about Roe’s show. She noted the reality TV element, maybe it was the same show she and Holly were going to be working on – that’d be fun! A new message dropped in at that moment.
ROE: How’s the head, Ailbh? Is that what you say to coke fiends?!
A knock on the door gave Ailbhe a jolt. ‘Yes?’ She placed the phone face down on the little wicker table beside the bath where a collection of scented candles rested.
‘It’s me.’ Tom peered around the door, cradling Tilly in one arm. ‘Look at you.’ His face creased into a huge smile and Ailbhe relaxed somewhat. Maybe he hadn’t noticed his coked-up wife of the night before.Maybe he just thinks I was being ‘Irish’. ‘You are so beautiful – can I come in? We barely got a second last night.’
‘I know, I’m so sor—’
He held a hand up. ‘Don’t worry. I know you must’ve been super overwhelmed having to manage on your own all this time, but I’m here now and we can deal with this together.’
‘Deal with …?’
‘Ailbhe, you’re obviously in trouble with your drinking, but don’t worry, we will get through this. I have loads of pals in recovery – I’ve got some links to some online meetings.’
‘Eh, Tom, that is so not what’s going on here. I’m grand – I just got carried away slightly.’
‘Honey, don’t get upset. I’m just trying to help. Think of it like the world’s cutest intervention.’ He held up Tilly’s little hand to wave at her mother. ‘Don’t drink to excess, Mommy!’
Ailbhe snorted. ‘I can’t tell if you’re joking or not right now.’
‘I think being wasted at a kid’s birthday party is not a joke.’
‘I wasn’t wasted. Or, well, I wasn’t the only one who was wasted.’
Tom leaned down and, careful not to squish Tilly, kissed her. ‘You’ll try the meetings, won’t you, babe?’
She inhaled deeply. It was hard to believe he was really there. During his absences, she was able to hold the reality of her situation at arm’s length. It was easier to dismiss the guilty thoughts. But now his presence, his familiar, sharply masculine smell, was invading her and unravelling the veil of denial she’d drawn over her mistake. Guilt made her comply.
‘I will,’ she nodded. What the hell else could she say, given all the other things she was currently full of shit about. She could probably do with drinking a bit less, no harm.
