The Hunger Read online

I don’t hear the end of the sentence because I walk away from him, but when I reach the gates of the cemetery I look back. The strain of standing has taken its toll on him and he is leaning against the tree. Somehow his voice carries across the distance that separates us:

  — . . . endless, Lincoln, my patience is endless.

  Afterword

  There are people who knew me during my Soho years who cannot believe I am still alive. Neither can I.

  When I think about those years, they are shocking, even to me.

  I wanted to tell the story of my addiction to prove to myself I survived and to understand how I almost didn’t. I wanted it to be fearless in its honesty, regardless of how I might be judged. It is based on real events and is, therefore, as politically incorrect and delusional as reality always is when looked at through honest eyes.

  The story, of course, is not over. Although I have been dry for more than two years, I battle my addiction every day and I will do so for the rest of my life. In those two years I have not been in any fights nor have I been abusive to anyone. Well, hardly anyone. In the book my Mum says I’m a good lad and, when I’m sober, I like to think I am. She has stuck by me when I didn’t deserve it and I will always love her and be there for her. Thanks to my brother Duncan for not judging me for what I have done. He’s a good man whose even temper has often acted as a steadying influence in my life.

  As the book shows, my dad, Lincoln, and my son, Lewis, were a big part of my recovery. They gave me a reason to want to stop the madness and I love them both more than words can say. However, the person who enabled me to see this, and without whom I would have never stopped drinking and using, is Dr Peter Hughes. He is a remarkable man who has helped many people clean up and find a way out of the prison of self-destruction and despair.

  A heartfelt thank you to Denise for being in my life and to your amazing sons, Matthew and Louis, for allowing me into theirs.

  I would especially like to thank James for being such a great and loving friend.

  I no longer see most of the people I knew in my Soho years. I want them to know that this is not anything personal. It is a decision I have made as part of my recovery. Many will not understand my decision and will condemn me for writing this book. There is nothing I can do about that. What I can do is thank them for the good times and the bad.

  I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my agent Carrie Kania and my editor Kerri Sharp for believing in the book.

  Carrie asked me what advice I would give to an addict. I told her I don’t feel equipped to advise anyone but, if I had to, I would say the first step is to admit you’ve got a problem and to reach out to anyone who can help. This can be your family, a friend, a professional addiction therapist or groups like Alcoholics Anonymous. While I didn’t go the strict AA route, I do go to meetings occasionally and I provide support for other alcoholics as best as I am able. Above all, know that even in your darkest moments there is hope.

  I want to end with a word about Esurio. He is, of course, fictional, although we have all met him at least once. Please take a moment now and remember your meeting with Esurio. It might make you more compassionate in the judgements you make about me because one day you might meet him again. As I say at the end of the book: Esurio is very patient and as keen to get to know you as he was to get to know me.