‘OK, thank you.’
I hung up, put my head in my hands and bawled. Sally wrapped her arms tightly around me. ‘What did she say?’
‘She thinks Ali does have an eating disorder and I need to take her to the doctor immediately. Oh, God, Sally, how could I be such an idiot? How did I not pick this up? A mother is supposed to know when something is wrong with her child.’
‘You knew there was something wrong with her, Ava, you just didn’t know what it was.’
‘But I should have seen this coming. I was so busy working and trying to save Charlie from himself that I haven’t been concentrating properly on Ali. She should have been my priority.’ I wiped my eyes with the tissue Sally handed me.
‘She
is
your priority. You’ve been telling me for weeks that you’re worried about her and you kept trying to talk to her but she blocked you out.’
‘I should have tried harder. I should have kept a closer eye on her.’
‘Ava, you did your best.’
‘That’s just it, Sally. My best isn’t nearly good enough.’
‘Come on, don’t beat yourself up. You’re a great mum.’
‘Am I? Do great mums often miss the fact that their daughters are starving themselves? Do great mums need their best friends to point it out?’
‘Ava, stop. It’s not going to do you or Ali any good if you berate yourself.’
I took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I need to focus on sorting this out.’ I stood up and dropped my tissue into the wastepaper basket. ‘I’m sorry about this, Sally. I know we’re busy today but I need to go home. I want to call Dr Garner and get my head straight.’
‘Why don’t I drive you?’
‘No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I just need to process all of this and start figuring out how to fix it.’
‘Are you sure? I’d be happy to help.’
‘You’ve helped so much already. If it wasn’t for you –’ I began to cry again.
‘Stop it. You knew something was wrong all along.’
I took a deep breath and composed myself. ‘Thanks for everything. I’ll call you later.’
‘Good luck – and let me know if you need anything.’
I don’t remember the journey home. I flung open the front door, ran upstairs to Ali’s bedroom and looked around. There was a rotten smell coming from under the bed. I crouched down and gagged. Hidden there I found mounds of mouldering chocolate cake, slices of toast, mashed potato, steak … at least three days’ worth of uneaten food. Covering my mouth, I piled it into her bin and looked at her desk. There were pictures of models pinned to the noticeboard above it. They were all painfully thin. How had I not noticed this before? I found the bathroom scales under her desk.
I turned her computer on and went into her Internet history. I felt physically ill when I saw the long list of sites that came up: thinnestofthemall, pro-anorexia,
prettythin.com
, ana’sthinspiration …
I logged on to a few and couldn’t believe what I was reading. They encouraged you to starve yourself with advice like: ‘Starving is an example of excellent willpower’ and ‘Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.’
It told you how to survive on one apple a day, recommending you cut it into eight slices – two for breakfast, two for lunch, two for dinner, and you still had two left for a snack. Apparently this way your body thinks it’s eaten four times that day, but you’ve actually only eaten one apple.
They recommended not swallowing, just chew and spit the food out. And they said it was important to keep very busy, almost to the point of being completely stressed out, because then you can go for hours without being hungry or wanting to eat.
I put my head into my hands and sobbed. My daughter was anorexic and I’d missed all the signs. How bad was she? Why was she doing this to herself?
Charlie must have heard me crying, because he came up to me. ‘Is this about Nadia?’ he asked, sitting beside me.
‘I don’t give a shit about Nadia. Ali’s got an eating disorder.’
Charlie stared at me. ‘Now hold on a minute. I know she’s got a bit thin, but that doesn’t mean she’s anorexic.’
I showed him the rotting food, the pictures and the websites. Charlie shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it. Ali’s so sensible. It’s so unlike her to do something so stupid.’
‘What am I going to do, Charlie? You can die from anorexia. I have to stop it before it gets worse.’
‘Don’t go getting yourself into a state. No one is dying here. We’ll sort this out. We need to talk to Ali first and see what she has to say.’
‘I should have seen it. I should have stopped it. Mothers are supposed to protect their children. I just thought she was a bit down in the dumps. I missed it, Charlie. I completely missed it.’
‘We all did, pet. We’re all to blame. Now, come on, dry your eyes and take a deep breath. We’ll get her better in no time.’
‘Why you crying?’ Nadia asked, standing in the doorway.
‘We think Alison is anorexic,’ Charlie explained.
‘What this?’
‘When someone stops eating and gets very sick,’ Charlie said.
‘Why she stop eating?’
‘I don’t know. Probably because that stupid little fucker broke her heart,’ I raged.
‘Aleeson is sad girl.’
‘No, she isn’t. She’s a warm, loving, happy girl.’ I didn’t want Nadia commenting on Ali. I wanted her to go away.
‘Since I living in you house, Aleeson is sad. She fery serious, all the time with the books, never smiling. All the time on her own. No boyfriend, no girlfriend. Nobody.’
‘She has lots of friends,’ I retorted. But Nadia had a point. Nobody called over to see Ali any more. Donna used to be on the phone all the time, or popping over to watch DVDs and swap clothes. That had all stopped. I’d just presumed it was because they were studying so hard for their finals. But now it seemed odd.
‘Don’t worry, love,’ Charlie said, giving me a bear-hug. ‘We’ll get to the bottom of this. She’ll be back to normal in no time. It’s bound to be just a phase.’
‘I hope so,’ I said, crying into his shoulder.
20
I tried to make myself look as if I hadn’t been crying all afternoon and went to collect the girls. On the drive over to the school, I tried to work out what I was going to say, how I was going to confront Ali. Part of me was desperately sad and guilty but another part was angry with her. Why was she doing this to herself? Was it all because of that stupid boy? Was she trying to be as thin as Tracy? Maybe she thought that if she was thinner David would fancy her again. She could die of anorexia – didn’t she understand that?
But as they walked towards the car my anger faded. Ali was hugging her school coat around her, shivering. Her hair was lank and lifeless. Her face was pale and pinched. I wanted to wrap her up and take all the pain away.
‘Hi, girls, how was school?’ I asked, deciding to wait until we got home to talk to her.
‘Fine,’ they both muttered. I looked at Sarah, who normally jumped into the car full of dramatic stories about her day. She seemed upset.
‘Is everything OK?’ I asked her.
She glanced at Ali. ‘Yeah,’ she said unconvincingly.
We drove home in silence. When we got in, Ali went straight upstairs. As I moved to follow her, Sarah pulled me into the lounge and closed the door.
‘Mum,’ she whispered, ‘I have to talk to you.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Ali’s acting really weird.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, catching my breath.
‘Well, you told me to keep an eye on her, so I did. I was a total detective – Dad would have been really proud. First I caught her flushing her lunch down the loo. She got really pissed off with me and said if I told you she’d say I was having sex with Bobby, which I’m not by the way. Then I talked to Donna, who said that Ali hardly ever speaks to her now. She said Ali’s become a real loner. She spends every lunchtime running laps of the football pitches. She told Donna she’s training for the marathon. The reason I didn’t know this is because I spend all my lunchtimes with Bobby. Donna said she’d asked Ali if everything was all right and told her she was way too thin, but Ali just brushed her off.’
‘Did anything happen in school to upset her?’
‘I asked Donna that, but she said nothing’s happened since David broke it off with her. David’s still going out with Tracy, but nothing else bad has happened.’
‘Thanks for doing all that, pet. I’ve been doing some detective work, too, and I think Ali’s quite sick.’
‘What do you mean sick? Like depressed?’
‘No, I think she might be suffering from anorexia.’
‘Anorexia? But that’s really serious. Are you sure?’
‘Yes, but I don’t want you to worry.’
‘How am I supposed to do that exactly?’
I put my arm around her shoulders. ‘Sarah, Ali’s going to be fine. I’ll get her all the help she needs. Now, I need to go up and talk to her. Why don’t you go in and help Nadia cook dinner? She’s making some special Polish dish for us all.’
‘Can’t I just watch TV?’
‘No.’
Sarah got up from the couch and grudgingly went off to help Nadia. I walked upstairs to talk to Ali. I was nervous about what to say, but I just took a deep breath and opened her bedroom door.
She was in the middle of getting changed. I screamed – before me stood a skeleton.
‘Why the hell didn’t you knock?’ she shouted, grabbing her duvet to cover herself.
‘Jesus Christ, Ali, what have you done to yourself?’ I cried. She was so much thinner than I could ever have imagined, her ribs and hip bones jutting out.
‘Get out!’ she demanded, as she pulled a baggy tracksuit over her bones.
‘You’re a –’
‘Fat cow? Yes, I know.’
‘
No!
You’re painfully thin. You’re nothing but bones. Oh, God, Ali, how did I not see this? I’m sorry, pet, I’ve let you down.’
‘Please go. Stop staring at me,’ she begged.
I willed myself to be strong. I desperately wanted to pull her to me and hug her better. But she was standing as far away from me as she could get, her arms wrapped protectively around her tiny frame.
‘I’m not going anywhere. We need to talk.’
‘I don’t want to talk,’ she said.
‘Ali, this has gone too far. I found the food under your bed. I know you’ve been flushing your lunches down the toilet in school, I know you’ve been running every day at lunchtime and I’ve seen those sick websites you’ve been on.’
‘How dare you break into my computer?’
‘Ali, I think you’ve got an eating disorder and we need to get you some help.’
‘Go away, Mum. You’re making a drama out of nothing.’
‘Have you seen yourself? Have you seen how thin you’ve got?’
‘Stop zoning on me. Stop spying on me.’
‘Ali, please talk to me. I want to help you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Is it because of David?’
‘WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT DAVID!’ she roared.
‘Something is making you starve yourself. I want to find out what it is and help you,’ I pleaded.
‘The only way you can help right now is by leaving me alone. Get out.’
I could see I was wasting my time. She was like a cornered cat, lashing out. I stood up and willed myself to be calm. ‘I’m going downstairs now. In ten minutes I want you in the kitchen, at the table. Nadia has cooked a special meal and you’re going to sit down and eat it. This has got to
stop
.’
‘Just go,’ she said, turning away from me.
Paul had arrived home while I was upstairs with Ali, and Sarah had filled him in. ‘What’s going on? Sarah told me you think Ali’s anorexic. Is that true?’ he asked, as he closed the lounge door so we could have some privacy.
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions?’
‘I’ve just seen her without her clothes on, Paul – she’s skin and bone.’ I began to get upset again.
‘I know she’s lost weight, but don’t all teenagers go on stupid diets at some point?’
‘This isn’t a diet. She’s starving herself. She’s been lying to us and throwing her lunch out and pretending she’s training for a marathon. I was talking to Sally and she said she got a fright when she saw Ali last night and that maybe she had a problem, and then I rang a help-line and they said it sounded like she had an eating disorder. When I looked in her bedroom I found lots of rotting food under her bed and horrible anorexic websites on her computer.’
‘You and Sally rang a help-line?’
‘Yes. I was worried and I wanted advice.’
‘Come on, Ava, this is what you always do.’
‘What is?’
‘Panic.’
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
‘Remember when Sarah had the measles and you thought it was meningitis? And when Ali had a cold and you thought it was swine flu?’
I gritted my teeth. ‘I am
not
overreacting. Ali is really sick and we need to get her help or it will get worse and she could die.’
‘Dinner’s ready!’ Sarah bellowed from the kitchen.
Paul moved to the door. ‘Let’s see how she gets on at dinner before we start talking about her funeral.’ He walked out the door and an almost uncontrollable anger welled up inside me. It took all my willpower to take a deep breath and walk to the kitchen.
We all sat around the table and Nadia served us up a delicious stew.
‘Bigos,’ she announced. ‘Traditional Polish stew. It make you big and strong.’
Ali was staring in horror at the plate of food. Her hands shook as her fork hovered above it.
‘You eating up, Aleeson. You skinny. Men no like skinny, men like strong woman. You eat my grandmother stew, you have all the men in luff with you.’
‘Get that into you. You’ll feel better with some food in your stomach,’ Charlie encouraged her.
‘Go on, Ali, eat up. Your mother’s worried about you,’ Paul told her.
‘It’s OK, pet, take your time,’ I said, as she chewed a piece of cabbage.
She continued to eat tiny mouthfuls of cabbage for the next ten minutes.
‘Eat some meat. The iron will do you good,’ Charlie suggested.
Ali picked up a piece of pork and put it into her mouth. We all pretended not to stare as she chewed. But when it came to swallowing, she couldn’t. She began to gag on it.
‘Just swallow it and stop making such a song and dance about it,’ Paul scolded. ‘It’s only a piece of meat.’