Carole - Now Complete!

Part 25 - The Return.

Carole stared in shock. "Ritchie?" She shook her head, "Is it really you?"

 He nodded. "It's me." He gave her that inimitable smile.

"What's happened? Why are you out on your own? Your family?" Carole stopped, realising she was burbling. "I  don't know what to say!"

"You don't need to say anything, let's get you home."

Carole hesitated. Suddenly Ben was forgotten. This was Ritchie! Her Ritchie and clearly something was very wrong. She knew she couldn't just walk away. Impulsively she flagged down a passing taxi. She told him to get in then gave the driver her address and set off. 

"Where are we going?" Ritchie asked quietly.

"My flat."

"But..."

"Shh!"

The taxi pulled up and, after paying the driver, Carole lead him inside. She told him to sit on a chair in the kitchen. She dropped her own vomit splashed coat next to the washing machine then returned to Ritchie. He was sat very meekly saying nothing, unsure what was going to happen. Carole looked at his face. Under the bruising and cuts she could see it was that face she had loved. She rummaged in a kitchen drawer then put some warm water in a bowl. Using cotton wool she carefully but gently bathed his face. He winched as the water and antiseptic touched the cuts.

"How does that feel now?" She asked softly, putting the bowl down on the table.

"Much better. Thank you."

There was an awkward silence as Carole studied the scruffy, dirty, dishrevelled figure in front of her.

"What's happened to you Ritchie?" 

He looked away from her, glad his face was bruised so Carole couldn't see his embarrassment.

"Ritche?"

"Do you have any pain killers please? I have a terrible headache." She saw him shiver suddenly.

"How about a hot shower?" she asked softly, "You'll feel better and it'll warm you up. There's  some stuff of Ben's in the wardrobe that should fit you."

"Ben?" He smiled at her, "Is that the man you were with earlier?"

She nodded. "Shower?" She tried again hoping to avoid further questions.

"I will. Thanks." 

He emerged from the bathroom later on, but his face being much cleaner, showed more of he bruising from the beating. Dressed in the clothes of another man n Carole's life felt strange.

"Hungry?" Carole asked, looking up from a pan she was stirring. "It's just a bit of soup. I thought it'd warm you up more."

"Thanks." He took his seat at the table once more and began to eat hungrily.

"Slow down! When did you last have something to eat?" Carole was surprised.

"Sorry! I haven't had much for a few days. I didn't realise how hungry I was!"

Once the food was eaten, Carole handed him a piece of cake and a cup of tea. She watched as he ate, noticing a tremor in his hands. She wondered why.

"Will your boyfriend be wondering where you are?"

"Ben?" Carole shook her head. "No, I rang him when you were in the shower. We're fine."

"Been together long?"

"Yes. Life's good. You?"

Ritchie shrugged. "So so."

"Considering the time, we can either find you a taxi home now I know you're OK or," Carole Paused, "I can offer you my sofa for the rest of the night?"

"Sofa would be great... if you don't mind?"

Carole shook her head and smiled. "I wouldn't have offered if I minded! Back in a minute then."

She disappeared into the bedroom before returning with some pillows and blankets. "These do you?"

"Thanks love."

"Right, I'll leave  you be. I'm dead on my feet! See you in the morning." She turned to go.

"Carole?"

She turned around to face him. "Yes."

Ritchie approached her and gave her a sudden hug. "Thanks for this. Seriously. Thanks."

She stepped away from him. "No problem. Good night." She turned away. 

Once in her bedroom she closed the door and heaved a huge sigh of relief. Being that close to him once more had been.....she couldn't quite describe how it had felt.

Carole stirred....unsure what had disturbed her. She listened again. It was coming from the living. She got up, hoping that it wasn't Ritchie being ill. The bang to his head had worried her, especially when he wouldn't seek medical attention.

"Ritchie?" She whispered as she pushed the door open. 

Ritchie was on his feet, rummaging through the side cabinet in Carole's living room.

"What are you doing?" Carole was shocked but angry.

He stared at her. "Where do you keep your drink?"

"The tea and coffee and stuff is in the kitchen, where else wold it be?"

"No, not that crap...the proper stuff?"

"What?"

"Alcohol? Drink? Booze? Where is it?"

"You emptied my belongings looking for alcohol?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"I need a drink NOW for fuck sake!"

Carole looked at him. He was angry with her in her own house. Then she saw that the tremor in his hands was so much worse than before. Suddenly it all made sense. His scruffy appearance, his reluctance to talk about his family...Richard Starkey was an alcoholic!