Demons

People often wondered why a 17 year old would move in with someone in their 60’s and the answer is very simple. He opened the door and the alley cat strolled in. In trading some of the precious youth, which one was squandering shamelessly anyway, one received a high standard of living, world travel and comfort. Living with Hobbit also gave one breathing space and a chance to confront the odd demon.

He was an entrepreneur and ran restaurants, nightclubs and brought the odd show/ performer into the country. All of this is code for he was a bit of a con and knew even more disreputable people than one small teenager. It meant late hours, hanging out with the wrong people (honestly they are the only ones up at 3am) and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

The drinking started at an early age... the christening to be precise. It was a late christening and probably done at Aunties insistence. That’s what happens when you have C of E god parents; they take it seriously. Anyway at the party everyone put their drinks down on the ground, and one crawled around and imbibed. Not too many people can say they got drunk at their own christening.

By the time one left high school one probably drank too much. In fact one sat more than one final exam drunk. On the bright side it did mean that one was utterly unperturbed by the fact one hadn’t opened a book for the last term. Though looking back it does occasionally make one wonder what would have happened if one had applied a little more... it would probably have been a lot more dull.

At 18 one looked in the mirror one memorable morning and said if you don’t stop drinking you are going to kill yourself. The reflection acknowledged the truth of this and we didn’t touch a drop for two years. It gave a certain clarity to one’s life and made one re-evaluate a lot of things... Sobering up caused the realisation that one didn’t always make good choices... Not that one had any idea how to make good choices, but that is another story.