‘Sarah, if I promise not to make you go to any more family sessions, will you please promise to keep your opinions on the clinic, food, eating disorders and therapy to yourself when Ali is around,’ I bargained.
‘What happened to, like, freedom to speak?’
‘It’s actually freedom of speech. Look, just keep your thoughts to yourself in front of Ali for the moment.’
‘Fine, I won’t say a word.’
‘That’ll make two of us.’ Paul smiled at her.
50
I was over the moon. Ali was coming home on Saturday for half a day. Although she’d only put on another half-pound, Denise and Mary felt she was doing very well and deserved a home visit.
Denise had warned me that it might not be easy. She said Ali was nervous about eating with us and that I was not to expect too much from her. ‘She can take up to an hour to eat a small meal. You’ll need to be very patient. And you may need to encourage her if she’s finding it difficult to eat in front of the family.’
‘What should I say?’ I was terrified of getting it wrong.
‘Something like, “That’s right, take another forkful. There you go, and another one …” Or if that doesn’t work, sometimes it’s best to distract her with stories about when she was young or funny things that happened when she was growing up. You’ll need to plan a good hour for dinner. Ali eats slowly and if she feels rushed she might react badly. A good thing to do is to plan something nice afterwards. She can have a fifteen-minute walk, but no more. So maybe you can tell her that after she finishes her food you’re going for a nice walk. It’ll encourage her to eat.’
‘OK, I’ll do exactly that. I’m so pleased she’s coming out. Will she be able to come home for good soon, do you think?’
‘One step at a time, Ava. Your daughter is doing really well, but she has a long way to go yet.’
‘I know, I know,’ I said, frustrated at constantly being reminded that Ali wasn’t cured yet. Couldn’t these nurses and doctors ever be really positive? They were always warning us not to get ahead of ourselves, not to get too excited, not to expect too much. It seemed pretty obvious to me that Ali was getting better.
‘Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day,’ Denise said.
I felt guilty for thinking badly of her. ‘Thanks for your help and advice – and most of all, for being so nice to Ali.’
I cleaned Ali’s room and bought fresh linen for her bed and flowers for her bedside locker. I bought a new tablecloth and napkins in her favourite colour – pale pink. I stocked up with the food that Denise had told me she was eating in the clinic: fruit juice, skimmed milk, brown bread, low-fat butter, bananas, vegetables, oat cakes, baking potatoes, cottage cheese, chicken breasts, lean meat, fish, yogurt, Müller rice and some high-calorie snack bars. The fridge was jammed. Ali would have plenty of choice.
‘Is good to see you happy,’ Magda said, as she helped me change Ali’s bed.
‘Honestly, Magda, I feel ten years younger. I’m so excited that she’s coming home, even if it’s just for a few hours. It’s all progress.’
‘I tells you she get better. She fery intelligent girl. Too intelligents for stop eating. This over now. You cans relax and be happy.’
‘I hope so, Magda. I’ve been too scared to get my hopes up, but now I really think we’re over the worst. It’s just great.’
Magda patted my arm. ‘You luffly lady. You family fery good to Magda. No more sad face, Aleeson will be fine. No problems.’
‘Thanks, Magda, and you’ve been very good to us. We’re going to miss you when you go home. Although I’ll be really happy for you to get to see your boys.’
‘I missing the boys now – I been away too long. Skype OK, but not same as to see faces.’
‘It must be so hard.’
‘Sometimes fery hard, sometimes not so hard. When I coming here to work, I happy. You fery nice family. That why I so angry with Nadia. She bad girl. I knows this baby not Charlie baby.’
‘Do you have proof?’
‘No, but I asking Polish friends. I still looking for proof.’
‘Well, if you find any, let me know.’
Two days later I went to pick Ali up. Charlie, Paul, Sarah and Nadia were at home tying balloons to the gate and the front door. I wanted her to feel really special.
When I arrived at the clinic she was sitting in her room with her coat on. She beamed up at me and we spontaneously hugged. It was wonderful. She looked really happy and excited, like a little girl at Christmas.
‘Come on, let’s get you out of here,’ I said, leading the way.
When we got outside, she breathed in deeply. ‘This is the first time I’ve been out in weeks. It feels fantastic.’
I smiled at her. ‘I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well. I reckon you’ll be out of here in no time. Now let’s go home – the others are all waiting.’
Ali chatted non-stop. It was like having my old daughter back. She’d found her voice and her enthusiasm. I wanted to weep with relief.
When we got home, the gate and front door were tied with multicoloured balloons. It looked really festive. Ali was thrilled. ‘Is this all for me?’ she asked, as we pulled up.
‘Yes, pet, we wanted to make a fuss. It’s a great day for us.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ she said, and hugged me again. Then she jumped out of the car and ran over to the others and threw her arms around them one by one. Paul’s face lit up – his daughter was back.
We went inside and Ali went up to her room to look around, then came down and said she loved her new sheets – she couldn’t wait to come home and sleep in her own bed. We sat around drinking tea – with skimmed milk, no biscuits – and chatted. Paul had lit a big cosy fire in the lounge and it was like old times.
I had decided to have tea at four. I wanted it to be early so that Ali would have plenty of time to eat and go for a short walk before I had to take her back. I asked her to come into the kitchen with me and tell me what she’d like to eat.
When she opened the fridge she froze. ‘Mum, there’s so much here.’
‘Well, I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I bought all the different food you’ve been having at the clinic. Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll make it for you.’
‘Uhm, I don’t know. I, uhm …’
She was struggling. Shit, I shouldn’t have bought so much. Obviously she wasn’t used to choice and the large quantities of food staring out at her were overwhelming. ‘Why don’t I do chicken breasts and steamed vegetables, with yogurt for dessert? How does that sound?’
‘That sounds fine,’ she said, closing the fridge and looking relieved.
‘You go back in to the others and I’ll get this ready.’
As she walked out I was staring at her tiny frame. Six pounds wasn’t much on a bag of bones. Perhaps the next six would make her look healthier. I busied myself with dinner, making sure not to put too much food on Ali’s plate. Denise had said to make the amount of food look small so it didn’t frighten her.
Thirty minutes later, I called the family in for tea. They had been warned not to comment that we were eating at four in the afternoon. Everyone had been told to say nothing about food and to keep the conversation light.
Sarah stared at her plate of steamed chicken and vegetables, but for once held her tongue. ‘Can you pass the gravy, please?’ she asked.
‘There is no gravy,’ I said. I’d decided we should all eat the same thing and I knew that gravy would not be on Ali’s list.
‘OK, then, can I have some butter or something to put on these dry vegetables?’ I glared at her.
‘Just stay quiet and eat up,’ Paul said, chewing a cauliflower floret.
‘Lovely dinner,’ said Charlie. ‘Well done, Ava. Very nice. I like plain food myself. Those heavy sauces they put on everything nowadays are no good for an old stomach like mine.’
‘You saying you no likes my cooking?’ Nadia asked. ‘I cooking sauces. This food haff no flav
our,’ she said, waving a stem of broccoli in the air to prove her point.
My blood began to boil: what the hell was wrong with everyone? I had specifically warned them not to discuss food.
‘Mum,’ Sarah hissed, ‘I can’t eat this. I need gravy. It’s too dry.’
I got up from the table, made some instant gravy and slapped it down on the table. ‘Now, can you all please be quiet and eat up?’
Sarah, Nadia and Paul poured large quantities of gravy over their dinner. Charlie and I stayed without in solidarity with Ali. Ali was studiously cutting her food into tiny pieces. I looked around the table – everyone was watching her. She picked up a piece of chicken, and as she was about to put it into her mouth, she looked up. We all pulled our eyes away, but it was too late: she had seen us. She put the food into her mouth, began to chew … and gagged.
‘It’s OK, pet, take your time. Don’t rush,’ I said, desperately trying to keep calm.
‘Take as long as you need,’ Paul added.
‘It’s better to eat slowly,’ Charlie said. ‘We all eat too quickly nowadays and that’s why so many people have problems with their digestive systems.’
‘During the war, many Polish peoples haff no food. It good to take time to enjoy,’ Nadia piped up.
‘I’m starving, what’s for dessert?’ Sarah asked, but when Paul frowned at her she quickly shut up.
‘That’s right, Ali, one more forkful, good girl,’ I encouraged her, but she continued to cough and gag. I froze. I didn’t know what to do.
Ali spat the food into her napkin. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking upset.
‘Don’t worry – try another piece.’ I forced myself to remain calm.
I watched her attempt to eat a small piece of broccoli but the same thing happened. She just couldn’t swallow it. I could see Paul’s fists clenching around his knife and fork.
‘I’m so sorry, I just can’t,’ she said. She ran out of the kitchen and up to her bedroom.
‘Jesus Christ, I thought she was better,’ Paul cursed.
‘So did I!’
‘So, like, what is actually for dessert?’ Sarah asked.
Charlie went up to talk to Ali. I dumped the plates in the sink and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I needed to be alone.
As I was passing Ali’s door, I heard Charlie soothing her. ‘There, there now, don’t be getting yourself into a state. It’s all right, love.’
‘It’s not all right, I’m a failure.’
‘You are not. You’re the most wonderful girl in the world. You just have a problem that you’re working out. These things don’t right themselves overnight. Coming home was a big deal. You hadn’t been here in weeks, the longest you’ve ever been away. It’s emotional and, to be honest, it was a bit tense down there. Sure I could feel it myself. It was all a bit too much for you.’
‘I wanted to eat it all up. I wanted to show you how I’m better now, to make you proud of me. I’m such a loser, Charlie. I just want to be well again,’ she sobbed.
‘Now, listen to me, you are getting better and stronger by the day. Problems with food, drink, drugs and depression – all these things take time to sort out. Some people don’t have the strength to get better but you do. Your step-grandmother Catherine was an alcoholic for twenty years and I tried everything to get her well but it didn’t work. The reason she didn’t was because she never really wanted to. She preferred drink to life. You on the other hand are fighting to get better with every ounce of energy you have. You want to get well and that, my darling girl, is what’s going to get you through. You’ve done brilliantly. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll beat this. You’re a wonderful person, Ali. You have your whole life ahead of you and I know you’re going to achieve great things. When you were born and I held you for the first time, do you know what I said to your mother?’
‘No.’
‘I said, “This girl is going to be really special.” And you are.’
It was true – he had said that. Charlie had always thought there was something special about Ali. I leant my head against the wall and cried silent tears for that baby who had grown up and was now struggling to survive.
‘I just want my life back. I want to be normal again. I want to be happy.’
‘You will be. Sure weren’t you happy this afternoon? When you bounced out of the car and came over to hug us, it was the old Ali back again.’
‘I don’t want to go back to the clinic, Charlie. I want to come home and go to school and college next year.’
‘And you will. But you’ll have to stay in the clinic for a bit longer. It’s making you better, Ali. And when you’re a little bit stronger, you’ll come home to us again for good. Now what you need to do is focus on the future and not the past. What would you like to do next year in college?’
‘Actually, I want to study psychology so I can help girls like me.’
‘That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. When you’re feeling a bit down, focus on that. Say to yourself, “I’m going to eat and get better so that I can help girls like me.” I promise you, if you focus on that, you’ll be well in no time – and think of all the girls you’ll save.’
‘So you really think I can do it?’
‘I believe you can do anything you want. You’re a really special girl. Don’t forget that. Now, I brought a yogurt up with me. I’ll leave it here on your desk and if you feel like eating it you can, but if you don’t, that’s fine too.’
I hurried out of sight as Charlie came out of the bedroom. I was too upset to talk to anyone. I felt as if we were back at the beginning when Ali was at her worst. I went into my bedroom, put my pillow over my face and screamed.
Paul drove Ali back to the clinic.
I sat up all evening sobbing. Charlie came in to talk to me, but I was too distraught to listen. I had genuinely believed my beautiful daughter was better. I had stupidly allowed myself to get excited. How wrong I was. It had been a disaster. Was it my fault? Had I frightened her by buying all that food? Did I cook the wrong thing? Say the wrong thing? Do the wrong thing? It was torture.
Paul was as upset as I was, but his feelings translated into anger. He ranted and raged about paying a fortune to the clinic when clearly it wasn’t working and why were they telling us how well she was doing when she was obviously still a basket case? He shouted that it was ruining our family, that he couldn’t concentrate on work, that he couldn’t stand to see the strain it was putting on me. Then, worst of all, he began to cry. It’s heartbreaking to see your husband racked with grief. He sat beside me on the bed and we both cried for our daughter, our first-born, our baby. Where had she gone? Was she ever coming back?
Eventually, Paul said he had to go to work to check on the pub, he needed the distraction. I nodded, incapable of saying anything reassuring to him. Five minutes after he left, the phone rang. It was Denise.
‘Hi, Ava, I heard it didn’t go so well,’ she said gently.
I couldn’t speak, just cried down the phone.
‘I know it won’t seem like much consolation now,’ she said, ‘but this always happens. With anorexia there is always a relapse of some kind. But the important thing to remember is that Ali is getting better.’
‘NO, SHE ISN’T!’ I shouted. ‘She couldn’t even eat a tiny amount of chicken. How can she be better?’
‘I’ve spoken to her,’ said a very calm Denise. ‘She is absolutely gutted. She feels she’s let you all down. The pressure of coming home and eating in front of everyone just got to her and she panicked.’
‘We’re her family, for God’s sake. We’re not a bunch of strangers. Why the hell can’t she eat in front of us? All we want is the best for her.’
‘I understand your frustration, but everything new that relates to food is terrifying for Alison. It was her first family meal in a month and she just froze. She wanted so much to eat everything on her plate and make you proud, but she was overwhelmed. The good news is that she ate the yogurt her grandfather ga
ve her and she asked me for a high-calorie snack bar. It was a really difficult thing for her to do. She overcame a huge hurdle today. She didn’t let the disappointment of the day take over, she fought back and ate. She is still determined not to lose weight. This is really fantastic news.’
‘You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t get out my pom-poms. A snack bar? Is that really so bloody great?’
‘Yes, Ava, it is. Alison could have fallen apart and withdrawn after failing to eat with you. But instead she has chosen to carry on eating and putting on weight. It’s a huge deal that she asked for food when she came in from such a disappointment. You should be very proud of her for bouncing back so quickly.’
‘Denise, do you have any idea what it’s like as a mother to watch your anorexic daughter have a total melt-down over a tiny piece of chicken? I was so excited about today. I really thought the old Ali was back. I don’t know how much more I can take. Paul’s in a state too. It’s killing us.’
‘I know this must be extremely difficult for you but please listen to me when I tell you that I’ve seen hundreds of girls coming through this clinic and Alison is one of the strongest and most determined to get better. You must have faith in her. You mustn’t give up hope. She needs your support and encouragement, now more than ever. This is a crucial time in her recovery. If she overcomes this setback, then I really think she’ll thrive.’
I sighed. I felt old, tired, strung out, depleted and depressed. ‘I’ll try to be as supportive as I can.’
‘That’s all she needs. Now, why don’t you pour yourself a glass of wine and try to get some rest? You sound exhausted,’ she kindly suggested.
‘Thanks, I’ll do that. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I really appreciate the call and all your help. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ I said, and hung up.
Pieces of My Heart Page 37
