‘Played sport, chased girls, smoked behind the bicycle shed – normal things.’
‘To each their own.’
‘I just hope the play isn’t a total car crash.’
‘Whatever the reaction of the other parents, you and I will be in the front row cheering her on proudly.’
The kitchen door swung open. Sarah and Bobby barged into the kitchen arguing.
‘It’s just ridiculous, Bobby. Romeo would never do anything so lame.’
‘The whole play is lame. I just want to do something to keep my street cred intact.’
‘You are so not saying it. Why do you want to change the words now? Like, hello! The play is tomorrow. It’s too bloody late.’
‘Time out,’ Paul said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Bobby is supposed to say, “Juliet, you’re an awesome dancer. I’m not worthy to touch your hand.” But instead he’s decided to change it to “Juliet, you’re an awesome dancer. Let me show you some cool moves,” and he starts to dance. It’s not about Romeo being a good dancer, it’s about me – I mean Juliet – being a cool dancer.’
‘Why don’t you show us the scene and we’ll tell you if we think it works?’ I said, trying to calm things down. Sarah was up to ninety about the play. She had some deluded notion that a Hollywood talent spotter might turn up to a school play in the Dublin suburbs.
‘OK. We need more space so we’ll have to do it in the lounge,’ Sarah said.
And so, once again, Paul and I found ourselves sitting in our front room, trying not to laugh as our daughter and her boyfriend modernized Shakespeare.
‘This is the scene where Romeo and Juliet are totally flirting at the ball,’ Sarah explained.
Juliet, in a luminous pink tracksuit and Ugg boots, danced around while Romeo, in his white Abercrombie hoody and saggy tracksuit bottoms, shuffled beside her.
‘You’re a really awesome dancer. Do you want to see some of my moves?’ Romeo said, and with that he flung himself onto the floor and started twirling around on his shoulders and head with surprising agility.
‘So that’s where break-dancing originated,’ Paul whispered, ‘in Verona.’ I willed myself to keep a straight face.
As Romeo twirled, Juliet looked decidedly fed up. ‘OK, I get the picture – you like to dance.’
Romeo hopped up. ‘Can I snog you?’
‘You’re a bit keen, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, actually, I am, totally.’
‘Well, I’m not going to snog you.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll make the first move.’ He kissed her.
‘Bobby! I said no tongues. It’s a play,’ Sarah screeched, pushing him away.
‘Quite right. None of that, thank you,’ Paul chimed in.
‘Sorry, I was carried away with the role,’ Bobby admitted.
‘Come on, focus,’ Sarah snapped.
‘Fair enough. I’ll make the first move,’ Romeo said, kissing Juliet, more appropriately this time. ‘I feel as if all my sins have been washed away now.’
‘Dude, are you telling me you’ve passed them all on to me? What am I going to do now? I’m totally infected.’
‘I’ll just take them back,’ he said, kissing her again.
‘You’re a really good kisser,’ Juliet said. ‘And that’s it, because then the Nurse comes in and ruins the moment,’ Sarah explained. ‘So what do you think? Do you not see how Romeo break-dancing in the middle of the play is totally stupid?’
‘Well,’ I said, trying to choose my words carefully so as not to offend either party, ‘Bobby, you certainly have a great talent for spinning on your head, but I do agree that it might not be the best place to demonstrate it.’
‘The thing is, Mrs M, Romeo is kind of a loser. He spends the whole play chasing Juliet around and then, like, does himself in because he loves her so much. I’m just not that comfortable playing someone who’s such a geek.’
‘But Juliet did just say that you were an excellent kisser,’ I reminded him. ‘So that’s good for your reputation.’
‘Hello! Can you stop being such a child?’ Sarah raged at her boyfriend. ‘It’s a play. You are performing a role, not playing yourself. It’s called acting. Do you think Leonardo DiCaprio thought Romeo was lame when he played him? I don’t think so. And f.y.i., Bobby, every girl in school fancies Leo DiCaprio. So why don’t you get over yourself and just play the part like we practised? If you can’t do that, then I’ll call Adrian the understudy and get him to take your place. He’d love to play Romeo so he can kiss me.’
‘I never said I had to dance. I just said I thought it might work. It’s called improvisation – really good actors try it all the time. I thought you’d know that. So we tried it and we don’t think it works. I’m cool with that.’
‘There you go, all sorted out. Well done, you two, good team work. Is there anything else you want us to give our opinion on?’ I asked.
‘No, thanks, Mum, we’re OK now. Come on, Bobby, we need to do our spray tan. We should probably do three coats. We want to look really hot.’
‘Totally. The Italians have really dark skin and we want to look like the real thing,’ Bobby agreed.
‘What do you mean, Italians?’ Sarah asked, puzzled.
‘Babe, Verona is in Italy. Romeo and Juliet are Italian.’
‘Seriously?’ Sarah asked, looking to her father for confirmation.
‘Last time I checked, Verona was still in northern Italy,’ Paul assured her.
‘Ohmigod. I thought they were English, like Shakespeare. I thought Verona was some little village in, like, the middle of nowhere. We should do four sprays each if we want everyone to think we’re actual Italians.’
‘Let’s get to it,’ Bobby said, taking her hand as they ran upstairs.
‘Tell me again how much we’re paying for her education.’ Paul sighed.
‘She’s happy, self-assured and has a very positive body image. Right now, that’s all I care about,’ I said.
‘She certainly doesn’t lack confidence. She has that poor fella wrapped around her finger.’
‘At least we don’t have to worry about building up her self-esteem.’
‘Jesus, if it was any higher, she’d be insufferable.’
‘I wonder how the other parents are going to react to the play? Sarah’s taking it all so seriously. I hope she doesn’t get into a huff if people laugh.’
‘If? Ava, they’re going to be in hysterics. I’ll say this, it’s been a welcome distraction from Ali.’
‘I’m almost sad it’s going to be over tomorrow.’
‘No doubt with Sarah there’ll be a new drama soon enough.’
The next morning, when I went into the kitchen, Charlie was up making breakfast. Nadia was still in bed.
‘Ava,’ Charlie said, ‘there’s a Red Indian after coming into your kitchen.’
I turned. It was Sarah, behind a thick layer of orange tan. She looked like one of the Oompa-Loompas in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Bobby had clearly outdone himself with the spray last night.
‘Wow!’ was all I could muster.
‘I know! How amazing do I look?’ Sarah beamed. ‘I could totally pass for an Italian girl.’
‘Italian!’ Charlie said, roaring laughing. ‘You look like someone’s attacked you with an orange paintbrush.’
‘Whatever, Charlie. In your day everyone thought being pale was cool. Well, it wasn’t. People look much better with a tan.’
‘You look lovely,’ I said, determined to give out only positive physical feedback to everyone for the rest of my life.
‘Are you nervous?’ Charlie asked her.
‘Are you nuts? No way. I can’t wait to get on stage. I totally have the X-factor and I want everyone to see it. I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. Bring it on.’
‘You’ll knock ’em dead, pet,’ Charlie said. ‘Nadia and I’ll be there early to get good seats.’
‘OK, but can you ask Nadia to cover up a
bit? Bobby’s mum is quite conservative – and don’t forget to keep seats for Mum and Dad in case they’re late.’
‘We’ll be there on time,’ I told her.
‘I’d better get ready. Bobby’s collecting me in his dad’s Ferrari. He got special permission to drive it to school today because of the play. How perfect is that? The stars arriving in style.’
‘Make sure he doesn’t drive too fast,’ I warned.
‘Chill, Mum, he drives at, like, ten miles an hour in it because his dad would kill him if he scratched it. I’d be quicker walking, but it’s still the totally coolest way to arrive in school. Remember to be really nice to Bobby’s mum and don’t let Dad talk about bogger things like hurley and stuff. Bobby’s mum is into golf.’
‘Your father and I will talk about whatever we want to with Bobby’s mother. Now, take a deep breath and calm down.’
‘The next time you see me, I’ll be a star,’ she said, disappearing out of the door.
Later that day at work, when I was getting ready to leave to go to the play, Sally was on the phone to Simon. She was giggling like a schoolgirl.
‘I’ve got to go, Ava’s leaving. I’ll see you at seven outside the cinema.’ She hung up and smiled.
‘How is he?’ I asked, turning my computer off.
‘Very, very, very good.’ She leant back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head.
‘You positively glow – it’s sickening.’ I smiled at her.
‘I’ve turned into one of those women I used to hate. Those smug women in happy relationships, who walk down the street smiling to themselves and beaming at strangers. That’s me!’
‘You’ve gone over to the dark side.’ I put my coat on.
‘Yes, I have and it’s pretty damn great.’
‘Enjoy it all, you deserve every bit of it.’
‘You’re right, I do.’ She laughed. ‘So, are you looking forward to the play?’
‘I am, actually. I just hope it goes well.’
‘Well, she does have the starring role – it’s a big deal.’
‘You should have seen her and Bobby practising yesterday – it was priceless. He kept flinging himself on the floor and break-dancing.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, break-dancing – in Verona at the ball.’ We both snorted.
‘Please don’t forget your camcorder. I have to see this.’
‘I won’t, I promise. See you tomorrow – enjoy your movie.’
As I was opening the car door to climb in, my phone rang. ‘Ava, it’s Denise from the clinic. We need you to come right away. Emily’s dead.’
42
I rang Paul screaming down the phone and told him to meet me at the clinic.
When I arrived, he and Denise were waiting for me in Reception.
‘What happened? Is Ali all right?’ I was hysterical with worry.
‘It’s OK.’ Paul put his arm around me. ‘Ali’s fine. But they had to sedate her.’
‘Jesus – why?’
‘She went mad when she found out about Emily,’ Paul told me.
‘Oh, God.’ I collapsed into the nearest chair and put my head into my hands. He sat beside me and rubbed my back. When I looked up, I saw how red Denise’s eyes were. ‘What happened, Denise? What happened to Emily?’
Earlier that morning, Denise told us, Emily had gone for a supervised shower. The nurses always stood outside to make sure the girls on bed-rest didn’t try to exercise. After a few minutes the nurse heard some grunting. She asked if Emily was all right. She heard nothing, so she went in and saw that Emily was gone. Because she was so small and emaciated, she had somehow managed to squeeze out of the narrow bathroom window and run away.
The nurse sounded the alarm, and they searched the grounds for her but Emily was nowhere to be found so they called the police for help. Six hours later two policemen found her hidden behind a hedge on the side of a road, three miles away. She was covered with just her bath towel and there were cuts all over her body.
‘She had found a rusty old can and slit herself from head to toe,’ Denise explained. ‘By the time they got to her it was too late. She had bled to death.’
‘That’s horrific.’
‘Yes, it is. We’re all absolutely devastated.’ Denise tried to remain composed. ‘When Alison found out, she was, as you can imagine, completely distraught. The two girls had become close friends. She got very agitated and started throwing the furniture around her room. We had to sedate her to calm her down.’
Paul stood up. ‘That’s it. We’re taking Ali home. There is no way she’s staying in this place.’
‘Now hold on, Paul, don’t do anything rash,’ Denise pleaded.
‘Rash! We’re talking about a dead child here.’
‘In the twenty years I’ve worked here, Emily is the first and only teenager to run away and commit suicide. We’re all broken-hearted.’
‘She’s one too many,’ Paul replied. ‘I do not want my daughter in this place for one more night.’
‘I really think that’s a bad idea,’ Denise said. ‘Alison has turned a corner. She’s been doing so well. She’s eating more, she’s engaging with the nurses, she’s happier, chattier and so wants to get better. She’s just beginning to improve. Taking her out now would be very unwise.’
‘At least at home I can protect her. How can it be good for her to be hanging around with girls who are killing themselves?’ Paul asked.
Denise took a deep breath. ‘Emily was a very sick girl who had a lot of personal problems and very little family support. She was incredibly fragile and troubled. But she was also a very sweet and kind girl. From Alison’s first day here, Emily helped her. She encouraged her to eat and would often come and sit with Alison during mealtimes to keep her company. She kept your daughter going during her first week when Alison was really struggling. Emily kept telling her that she knew she was going to get better. So instead of being a hindrance to Alison’s recovery, Emily was actually an asset.’
‘None of that changes the fact that she’s dead,’ Paul reminded Denise.
‘I’m aware of that. But I can guarantee that this terrible tragedy won’t set Alison back. It’ll drive her to get well and get on with her life.’ Denise looked at me for support.
I stood up, my legs shaking. ‘OK, guys, let’s not make any decisions now. We’re all too upset. We need to talk to Ali when she wakes up and see what she wants to do.’
‘She’ll probably be out for a while,’ Denise said.
‘That’s OK. We’ve got all night. I want to see her now – I need to see her.’
Paul held my hand and we walked down to Ali’s room. When we got to her door, I stopped. I leant against the wall and composed myself in case she was awake. I didn’t want her to see me in this state. I needed to be calm.
Paul rested his head against the wall beside me. ‘How the hell did we end up here?’
‘I wish I knew.’ I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
‘Are we ever going to be normal again?’
‘I hope so.’
‘I hate this,’ he said, getting upset.
‘Me too.’ I held his hand and squeezed it. ‘Come on, let’s go in and see her.’
The nurse sitting beside Ali’s bed stood up. ‘She’s still asleep,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll leave you alone.’ She left the room and closed the door.
Ali was lying on her side.
I sat down in the chair beside the bed and brushed the hair off her face. ‘Oh, Ali, what are we going to do?’
‘Get her the hell out of here.’ Paul sat down at the end of the bed.
‘But she’s doing really well, Paul. She’s a different person on the phone these last few days, so much more positive. She sounds much more like the old Ali. I don’t want to do anything that could set her back.’
‘She had to be sedated because she was throwing furniture around the room. I think she’s already been set back.’
‘Of course she freaked
out! She’d just heard her friend was dead. When she wakes up she’ll be more rational and we can ask her what she wants to do. We mustn’t make any hasty decisions. We have to handle this very carefully and take Denise and Mary’s advice. I’ll talk to Mary first thing in the morning.’
‘I’m so sick of all this shit,’ Paul said, rubbing his eyes. ‘It’s just one thing after another. I want it to be over and Ali to be back to normal.’
‘I know, I’m sick of it too, believe me, but this is our life right now and we have to deal with it.’
‘Do you ever feel like just walking away?’ Paul asked, looking down at his hands.
‘Every single day.’
His head jerked up. ‘Really?’
I nodded. ‘I go to bed every night feeling sick with worry and wake up sick with worry. I dread having to call the clinic. I’m so scared they’re going to tell me bad news. I hate that my life is now spent worrying about whether Ali eats enough calories to survive. I feel so tired and old. I feel tired in my bones.’
‘Did we really fuck up? Is it our fault that she’s in here? I always thought we were pretty good parents. We had fun with them. We told them they were great, they always knew we were there for them. We worked hard to give them a private education and a nice house, clothes, presents, all that stuff. So how the hell did Ali end up in a clinic? I don’t understand where we went so wrong. Emily’s father was a drunk who abused her, so I understand how she ended up in here, but we’re not drunks, we’re good people. We love our kids.’
‘I think we made some bad decisions, like lying about the shooting.’
‘Jesus,’ Paul hissed, ‘I’m so sick of that being thrown in our faces. All we were trying to do was protect two small girls from the violent truth. Where’s the crime in that?’
‘I agree with you, but it had a bad effect on Ali and we have to accept that. Look, in all the research I’ve done there are no concrete answers as to why someone develops anorexia. All parents are frustrated like us. Every case is different. Every family’s different. This horrible disease just seems to take over your mind and forces you to stop eating.’
‘How much research have you done?’
Pieces of My Heart Page 30
