I remember being shoved under the table and told to stay quiet.

My mother didn’t drink everyday, she could be the best mother for weeks or months, and then it would be that day, that I’d come downstairs and she would be putting on her makeup. My dad would be in work. Mam would always take one of us with her, usually me as I was the wild child. I remember being shoved under the table and told to stay quiet. I would be listening to her voice and able to tell how drunk she was getting from her slurred speech. WE’D get threw out of the pub and I’d be left trying to look after her, I was probably 5 or 6 years old. I would hate if we weren’t local because her falling would attract the attention of strangers. Then I remember getting frightened, for my mother also in case anything happened her. One time when I was about 6 years old onlookers got a taxi for us because she couldn’t walk, I remember feeling relieved that I’d be home to dad soon. She redirected the taxi driver to another pub she knew a friend would be in and left me in the taxi alone. Lucky Dad always made us know our address. I could tell the taxi my address, but remember feeling frightened and uncomfortable alone with a stranger.