The Morning After

Imagine waking up in a police cell. Confused, cold, hurting and suffering from withdrawal. Ed didn’t believe he was an addict until he almost died from it. 

Ed was wearing a terrible blue paper body suit that the police give you when they’ve seized all of your clothes, it makes a scratching sound when it’s moved.

The cell was tiny, painted concrete, cold to the touch, the windows were just cloudy thick glass bricks. It was like being buried alive, the bed was a hard plastic mattress with one thin blanket, he could have been anywhere, Siberia, Iceland but probably Brighton. The view was bleak, similar to his future. 

Ed had a sip of water from his plastic cup and tried to focus. What on earth had happened? Why the hell had he been arrested?

“Focus Ed, focus, concentrate, what happened?“ Ed said out loud. 

There was a pain in his stomach, it was horrible, a knot just eating away inside. It affected his mind, his appetite and his confidence. It was the dreaded anxiety. An underrated feeling that had been overlooked on the torture scene. Im sure Mad Frankie Fraser could have attempted the anxiety root instead of electric shocking his victim's testicles. 

Anxiety, a drinker’s companion. A pain in the form of madness. It makes you ill and the only substance that can make it go away and put you back on top is more booze. 

The first drink is disgusting and will probably make a person sick. You look at yourself in the mirror and think why am I doing this? You pour a second glass, this is better. It goes down smoothly, now you’re flying. You can do anything, other than balance properly. You wobble rather than walk, you think you’re getting away with it, but you’re not. 

Add drug withdrawal on top and you are having the worst morning of your life. Especially now you’re stuck in a locked cold cell. You can’t tell anyone, because everyone judges, and you’ve admitted your addiction. A man can’t do that, it’s weak and pathetic. There’s now only one way out. 

How do you do it in a cell? There’s nothing sharp, no noxious chemicals to swig or nothing to tie around your throat. The CCTV camera is watching. Big brother is peering at your every move. The desire to fall asleep and never wake up is so appealing. The amount of times Ed has previously woken up and was disappointed. “Great! Another day to get through. Maybe I won’t wake up tomorrow morning”. 

This was an everyday experience for Ed, but when you’re in a band you can do it, in fact it’s expected. So here Ed was. He remembered that his sister had died. “Poor Lily “he thought. 

Bang, then clunk as the cell door was opened. It flew open to a middle-aged man stood at the doorway. Ed didn’t know what to say, but the man, a custody sergeant asked him if he was ok and if he wanted anything. Ed’s head felt it was being pinged around a pinball machine. Ed thought a pint of vodka was probably out of the question, so he asked for a tea. 

An Englishman’s answer to all of our problems. There’s a perfect temperature to drink a cup of tea. Too hot and you’re scolding your mouth, the skin will come off. If you leave it too long it turns lukewarm, not great. But every now and then you can catch it just right and it becomes the best drink in the world. Comforting, tasty, refreshing pure nectar to the addict.

The Custody Sergeant told Ed that he would be interviewed in a couple of hours, but before that he could speak to the duty solicitor. Ed was really concerned he was going to be sent to prison, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. He found his sister dead; he didn’t kill her. 

After explaining everything to the solicitor, Ed was shown into an interview room and as advised he simply told the truth. He’d finished a gig and went to an after party. Ed went upstairs and found a girl lying face down on a bed. He turned her over and it was his lovely older sister, she had overdosed and had died. 

The enquiries were long and complicated for the police, such as speaking to witnesses, finding out who supplied the drugs and the timings of his movements. The police had to release Ed under strict bail conditions as they didn’t have enough evidence to charge him. 

All Ed thought about was buying a bottle of vodka as soon as he got out of there. He checked into a hotel and drank for three days straight. The effects of drinking, passing out, drinking, passing out had a hallucinogenic effect on him. Ed was tripping, what was a dream and what was reality?

Knock, knock, knock. Ed thought it was the chambermaid, but no it was Rob and Sid, two of his band mates from Butterscotch Envy. They had found him after two days of looking in drug dens and hotels. They drove him to Dorset and dropped him at his father’s country house. Ed’s father was a big deal and was a Viscount. Remnants of old England and their hereditary titles. Ed had an older brother, so it was unlikely he was going to become a Lord. 

Ed’s father and stepmother looked after him in their odd formal manner, but he thought it was kind of them, considering his father had just lost his daughter. However, Ed struggled, he couldn’t get to a shop and his father hid all of the booze. Long nights, the shakes and the sweats were terrible. Somehow, he got through the first week and was feeling a little better, but a long way off from perfect. 

Ed began to write music again, like he did when he was a teenager. It killed the time and was productive to a point. His sister's funeral was an extremely difficult time for Ed and his family. It was too much for Ed, there were a lot of people there and a beautiful arrangement of the word “Chaos” written in flowers. His sister’s nickname.

When everyone had gone to bed, Ed went looking for the alcohol, it was a huge house so there were many rooms to check. After an hour of searching, he came across a locked door in the cellar. He’d never noticed it before but thought it had probably been locked for years. The next day, he went back to the cellar when his father was out as he was intrigued by this secretive door, was the alcohol stashed away in it?

Ed brought some spare keys down that he had found in a drawer in the dining room. He tried each key, but none seemed to work. Whilst he was about to leave there was a scratching noise coming from the room. It was faint but he’d definitely heard something, was it a rat or a squirrel? Ed called out but there was no response, so he gave up and went back to his room.

A few days went past, and curiosity got the better of Ed so he went back down to see if he could pick the lock with some metal scraps he had found. That didn’t work either but this time he could hear a dragging noise. It was like there was a sack of coal being dragged along the floor inside this locked room. Ed called out, “hello”, but nothing, then more scratching. Ed had to find out what was going on, he went upstairs and spoke with his stepmother, Philippa. She was completely dumbfounded; she had no idea what he was talking about but went down to the cellar with him to check it out. At first there was nothing but after they knocked on the door there was a sound. It sounded like a cough and some weak knocking. It couldn’t be an animal; its noises were too human. 

They couldn’t ignore this and went and got the gardener, Simon who brought some tools with him, it took a while, but he eventually got it wedged open. Ed was the first to look, it was dark, it smelt of stale eggs and there were bags and blankets on the floor. He then noticed a silhouette to the left in the back. There was a shape, it moved but didn’t speak, it looked human.

They pulled the door open and shone a torch in, they were all a bit scared as it was the unknown, it was so odd. Ed was shaking. The torch light made the figure hide behind a blanket to protect its eyes. They walked into the room, “hello, can you hear me?”. There was no reply to Ed’s question, they moved closer, and they discovered it was a woman. There was a woman locked up in their cellar. They couldn’t believe it, had Ed’s father been keeping this terrible secret? How long had this poor person been kept there? 

They walked the woman out and took her to the kitchen where there was a warm fire and some tea being made. The woman was dishevelled, her hair was wild and knotted, her clothes were filthy, she was probably in her fifties. They did their best to clean her and help but the woman was scared and didn’t know what was happening.

Suddenly the father had come home, they could hear him walking towards the kitchen. The woman began to panic, and they had to hold her down. The father walked in and almost fainted, he couldn’t believe it, he didn’t know what to say, they had found his guilty secret.

After a lot of shouting and crying they eventually got the truth out of the Viscount. The person who was locked up in a room in the cellar, was the Viscounts first wife, or as he described her as his “mad wife”. The woman who was supposed to be dead. Ed believed that she died when he was ten, but here she was. The Viscount had kept her locked up for ten years. It was Ed’s real mother. He cried uncontrollably, the feelings of happiness and sadness collided in his head. He felt like his head was in a vice. 

It was crazy. Many normal families would have called the police, but Ed had a deep mistrust of the police, so they forced the Viscount into the room in which his mother was held and secured the door.

He kept shouting, “she’s crazy, I had to do it, I thought she was going to kill the children”. 

They needed time to figure out their next move. Ed’s stepmother took the poor mumbling lady upstairs to clean her and get her some fresh clothes. She needed her dignity back. 

Little did they know that Simon the gardener had called the police behind their backs, he didn’t feel comfortable with the situation. The police showed up en masse within minutes, they whisked the Viscount off in handcuffs and two policewomen stayed at the house to interview Ed’s real mother. It was a surreal experience. 

Ed lay down on his bed in disbelief of the carnage which had taken place.

It was simply Chaos.