by Lynsey James
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he replies, his words gentle and soft. ‘Come on, you need a hug.’
‘I need you to go!’ I snap. ‘Fuck, Scott. What have I done?’
‘That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me. Come on, Cleo, you can tell me anything. You know that, so please don’t push me away.’
Reluctantly, I let myself unfold and properly survey the damage I’ve created. Scattered all across the floor are half-eaten bags of crisps, popcorn, brownies and anything else I could get my hands on. It looks utterly disgusting and I feel an intense shame engulf me.
‘Look at it all,’ I groan, gesturing to it. ‘I was supposed to be stronger than this!’
Scott puts his arm around me and pulls me close to him. He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. Things are a little bit better now he’s here. At least I’m not alone.
‘Did something happen today when you were with Emma?’ he asks.
I nod. ‘Yeah, something horrible happened. Then another bad thing happened when I went to see my mum.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
I sit up and wipe my eyes. Much as I don’t want to relive the awful events of today, I know I don’t have much choice. With Emma, I could style it out. There’s no hiding my pain from Scott, though; it’s scattered all over the kitchen floor.
‘We went dress shopping for the reunion today, since it’s in a couple of weeks. I don’t usually enjoy shopping trips, but I was really looking forward to this one. Anyway, while Emma was trying to decide between these two dresses she liked, I went to have a look. This shop assistant came up to me and asked if I needed any help, so I said yes and gave her a rough idea of what style and size I was looking for…’
I trail off as tears overwhelm me again. My chin wobbles and they start running down my cheeks. Scott tightens his grip and strokes my face.
‘Shh, it’s OK. Don’t cry; everything’s going to be fine,’ he whispers.
I take some deep breaths, gather myself, and tell him the rest. Going over the details again, particularly what I overheard the girls saying and my mum’s offhand remark, rips through me and I wonder if the pain will break me in half. Scott listens, holds me when I cry, and kisses my hair.
‘Cleo, I… I don’t even know what to say,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘That must’ve been absolutely horrific. What a pair of nasty, insecure little trolls those girls were. As for your mum, she shouldn’t have said what she said. That was a low blow, saying you couldn’t help people because of what happened in the past.’
‘It was my worst nightmare made real,’ I reply. ‘Ever since I put on weight, I’ve been worried this would happen. You get used to the looks eventually; even the whispers don’t bother you after a while. It’s what’s behind them that’s really scary, the horrible thoughts they don’t say out loud. You just know they’re thinking God, what a fat cow, why doesn’t she eat a salad? or what the hell was she thinking wearing skinny jeans? But, in a way, it’s fine, because they don’t actually say it to your face, so it spares you the pain of hearing your own worst thoughts said out loud by someone else. Only today, that’s exactly what happened. Twice. I heard everything I secretly think about myself said out loud by two horrible girls who don’t know me from Adam. And I know their opinions shouldn’t matter because they’re shallow and I’ll never see them again, but they do and I hate that! When Claudine first asked me if I wanted to do the Inspire course, I worried that what I’ve been through would stop me from being a good leader, but I wanted to give myself a chance. The fact that even my mum doesn’t believe in me makes me wonder why the hell I bothered!’
I sigh and let my head flop forward. Scott puts a finger under my chin and brings it level with his.
‘You are none of the things they said, and I want you to believe that, because it’s true. You’re right, their opinions shouldn’t matter; they have sad little lives and, deep down, they know that. That’s why they get off on making other people feel bad: it’s how they feel themselves. People like that don’t deserve your time or your tears. You’re worth a million of them, Cleo Jones. You were right to give yourself the chance to be a leader. Don’t listen to what your mum says.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper. ‘I just feel so awful that I let everything get to me so much I binged. Look at it! Look what I’ve done. I haven’t done this for ages and, now I have, it’s not even for a good reason!’
Scott gets up and helps me to my feet. ‘Come on, let’s go through to the living room where we can talk about this properly. We can clean this up later, but right now I’m making you a cup of tea.’
My stomach grumbles and, suddenly, a cold sweat comes over me. I cover my mouth and sprint to the bathroom, where I’m violently sick. Scott follows me and holds my hair until it subsides. I back away from the toilet and haul myself up to the sink, splashing water on my face.
‘Sorry, you probably didn’t expect this when you popped round!’ I manage a hollow laugh as I dry my face. ‘I feel like someone’s turned me inside out.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Scott strokes my face and smiles, but I can tell he’s slightly unsettled. ‘Go and sit in the living room; I’ll bring you some tea in a minute.’
I hang back in the bathroom after he leaves, so I can brush my teeth. I take a long, hard look at myself in the mirror and I’m not pleased with what I see. My eyes are red and puffy, my skin’s blotchy and I look absolutely done in. More than that, I look broken. And all because of what my mum and two nasty bitches in a dress shop said to me.
This isn’t how Cleo 2.0 is supposed to be.
On my way to the living room, I stop by the kitchen and see Scott on his hands and knees, cleaning up the debris. He stops for a second and runs a hand through his hair. My heart sinks and my stomach lurches again.
‘Everything OK?’ I ask, stepping into the kitchen. ‘Here, let me do that. It’s my mess, not yours.’
He shakes his head and when he turns to look at me I can see pain etched all over his face. ‘No, you go and sit down. I won’t be long in here.’
I bite my lip as he looks away. ‘Is this… Is this what it was like when Natalie—’
‘No.’ He cuts across me. ‘No, Cleo, this is totally different so don’t worry about that. Just go and take a seat; I’ll be there in five minutes.’
His voice is thick and gruff, like he’s trying to hold his emotions back. He turns round again and frowns when he sees I’m still there.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask when I see tears in his eyes. I can’t bear that I’ve hurt him so much. ‘Scott, I’m so sorry. I know this must be awful for you.’
He gets up and walks across to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. ‘I’m absolutely fine; don’t worry about me. What do you take in your tea?’
‘Milk and two sugars,’ I reply.
He goes over to the kettle, leaving the remainder of the mess on the floor. I go over and start shoving everything into the black bin liner he’s been using.
‘Cleo, I said—’
‘I know what you said, but it’s not fair that you have to clean this up. I made the mess, I’ll tidy it.’
He sighs and goes back to making the tea, while I make the kitchen look less like a tornado’s blown through it. There’s something quite cathartic about binning all my junk food. It feels like I’m making a new start of some sort.
‘Tea up,’ says Scott, proffering me a mug with Belle from Beauty and the Beast on it.
I take it and follow him through to the living room. Before joining him, I take a sneaky little look back at the now-tidy kitchen, and feel a little bit of pain slip away. At least there’s no physical evidence of what happened now. I head into the living room and take a seat next to Scott, who looks like he’s miles away. The sadness in his eyes makes my insides twist themselves into knots. This is all because of me, and I hate it.
‘Thanks for being here,’ I say, setting my mug down on the coffee table. ‘I know this can’t have bee
n easy for you.’
He shakes his head, but I can see how much he’s hurting. It kills me to imagine the thoughts going through his head, the ones he isn’t saying out loud. The silence between us seems to stretch on for ever, until he finally breaks it.
‘Cleo, when you… when you binged, what was going through your head? I mean, did you want to hurt yourself or…?’
‘No, it was the opposite actually. When I binge, it’s to make myself feel better, to try and take the pain away. It didn’t work this time, though.’
Scott nods slowly. ‘Sorry, I’m… I’m just trying to understand this a bit better, that’s all. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt; I wish you’d called me. I could’ve come round earlier and… I dunno, stopped you going through this.’
I put my hand on his arm. ‘This isn’t your fault. I let those girls and my mum get under my skin and the more I thought about what they said, the more out of control I felt. I started thinking they were right and that maybe everyone thought I was horrible, but just wasn’t telling me. It felt like maybe I’d been viewing myself in a funhouse mirror or something, and that my self-perception wasn’t right. It’s not on you to save me from my own thoughts, Scott. I have to find a way of doing that myself. I usually do, but today things got too much. I’ve had the urges before, but I’ve always been able to stop myself from bingeing. I think, after what happened today, I need to go and see a doctor.’
As I watch him trying to process everything, it breaks my heart. He looks worn out; my being sick must’ve really unsettled him and dredged up lots of unpleasant memories. I can almost see them playing through his head like some sort of grim slideshow.
‘When I walked into the kitchen and saw you surrounded by all those open wrappers, it broke my heart,’ he admits. ‘I just wanted to make everything better for you like…’
He trails off, leaving like I couldn’t with Natalie hanging in the air.
‘I’ll admit it did make me think of what happened with Natalie,’ he continues. ‘I walked in and found someone I care about completely broken, and I didn’t have a clue how to help.’ He turns to face me and takes my hands in his. ‘Cleo, I want to help you. I might not have been able to do it with Natalie, but that’s not why I’m saying this. I want to make sure you never have to go through this again. We’ll get you the help you need so you don’t have to feel like this any more.’
The more I look at him, the noisier my brain becomes. There’s a feeling niggling away at me, even though I do my best to ignore it. It’s telling me to do the right thing and set Scott free, so he doesn’t have to go through the same pain again.
I open my mouth to speak, hoping my next words aren’t ones that send him away. I’ve grown to care for him so deeply; having him by my side has added so much to my life.
‘…Y-you need to go.’ My eyes screw shut as soon as the words come out. ‘I’m a mess right now, Scott, and I don’t want you to go through the same thing with me that you did with Natalie.’
He shakes his head and grips my hands tighter. ‘No, Cleo, I’m not leaving. When I came to your house a couple of weeks ago, you asked me what would happen if you binged again. I said that, if you did, I’d be there for you, no questions asked. I’m not going back on that promise.’
I bite my lip and blink back yet more tears. ‘You don’t have to worry about breaking a promise; you’ve been hurt so much in the past and I don’t want to make things even worse. Seriously, I’m not good to be around right now. Up until now, I’ve been able to hold the urges back, but today I couldn’t. I-I think I need help, Scott, proper help, so I can get past this for good. Things are going to be so hard while I get better, so maybe it’s best we give each other some space.’
We stare at each other for a minute, neither of us knowing what to say. This experience has taken it out of both of us; we’re both totally wiped out.
‘I’m not giving up on you, Cleo,’ he says softly, squeezing my hands. ‘Not for a single second.’
‘I know, but I need to beat this once and for all. Otherwise, it’ll always be lurking in the background and that’s not fair. I don’t want to live in fear of my own mind any more. But it’s also not fair to ask you to stick around. I want to give you the best version of myself and I can’t do that right now. I’m not saying this because I don’t care about you; I’m saying it because I want you to be happy. When I’m better, we can give this another go, but I crossed a line today and I don’t want to do that again. So please… please just let me do this.’
Scott reluctantly lets go of my hands and rises to his feet. I follow suit and walk him to the front door.
Just as he’s about to leave, he cups my face in his hands.
‘I…’ He stops as his voice begins to crack. ‘Take care of yourself, OK?’
I nod. ‘You too.’
The second I close the door behind him, I sink to the floor in floods of tears.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I get through the next few days by switching to autopilot mode. I throw myself into work more than ever before, finding renewed solace in creating delicious cakes for the residents of Silverdale.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Fred asks me the morning after it happened. ‘You don’t seem… well, you don’t seem yourself.’
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ I tell him, although I know it’s a lie. ‘Really, there’s no need to worry about me.’
I turn my attention back to the carrot cake I’m supposed to be making. As my hands dig deep into the mixture, I replay the moment Scott walked out the door in my mind over and over again. Although I know he’d have stayed if I’d asked him to, I tell myself I did the right thing by distancing myself from him.
I’d only have hurt him even more in the long run, wouldn’t I?
The Inspire course also provides an excellent distraction. There’s plenty of material for me to throw myself into and the two days I’m there fly by. While I’m learning about Treat Points and how to properly address a crowd of people, I don’t have to think about Scott or my awful bingeing session. I get to be Cleo Jones, future Carb Counters leader, and there’s something quite empowering about that. With the skills I’m learning through Inspire, maybe I can help people who are going through similar things to me. I know I have to help myself first, but the idea of turning my worst experiences into positives to help other people takes away some of the pain I’m feeling.
*
Emma and Zara prove their worth as friends a million times over, once they learn what’s happened. I invite them over a couple of nights later and tell them everything. Every gory detail is spilled out over pizza and wine, with complete honesty.
‘Wow,’ Emma breathes. ‘Cleo, why didn’t you say anything sooner? I thought you had your binges under control. We could’ve helped you.’
The fact that she almost echoes what Scott said doesn’t go unnoticed.
‘I thought I could deal with it by myself,’ I explain. ‘I was keeping the urges to binge at bay, and I thought that was enough. Then, when I heard those two girls in the shop… I couldn’t control it any more. Scott was brilliant, but I’m not in the right place to be in a relationship right now. I need to get better; I realised that when I was bingeing a couple of nights ago. He’s been through so much already, and I don’t want to cause him any more pain.’
Zara gets up and comes over to hug me. ‘Remember what I said: he’s a very good man.’
I chuckle, remembering her drunken ramblings on the night we’d gone to the pub. ‘I’ll bear it in mind. My priority right now is getting better, though.’
My two friends raise their glasses, and Emma takes it upon herself to do the toast.
‘To Cleo, our very own warrior queen. May she beat her demons once and for all, keep being awesome and smash her bucket-list goals.’
Our glasses clink and, for a brief second, the pain in my heart goes away.
‘I’m so lucky to have you guys,’ I say with a smile.
I take a
moment out from the convivial conversation to be alone with my own thoughts. Underneath the warmth I feel from my friends’ support, a deep hurt lurks. I can’t help but think of Scott, especially when his name comes up on my phone for the thirtieth time in two days. I decline the call and stuff it back into my pocket.
I’m doing the right thing. I’m sure I am.
I think.
*
A word to the wise: dry suits are just about the most uncomfortable garments on the planet. Flippers come in at a close second.
A week after sending Scott away, I’ve found myself at a local aquarium preparing to have a shark encounter. Yup, that’s right, an actual shark encounter. It would’ve been a dive, but I’m not PADI-certified so I’ve opted for an encounter with a qualified instructor instead. According to the leaflet, there’ll also be lots of exotic fish, stingrays and angel sharks. This wasn’t part of my new bucket list, but I really wanted to give it a go.
‘Are you ready?’ the man who’ll be going into the tank with me asks as he puts his goggles on. ‘You look a bit nervous!’
‘I’m about to be in the same tank as a load of sharks!’ I giggle. ‘I think anyone would be nervous in my position.’
‘Oh, they’re quite friendly really,’ he replies. ‘Well, for sharks.’
He goes to check everything’s in place before we go into the tank. I take a deep breath as I adjust my goggles. Scott crosses my mind, and not for the first time today either. I find myself wondering what he’d make of this, if he’d have offered to do the dive with me. He’d love this, I say to myself, getting up close and semi-personal with a load of three-metre sharks.
I don’t have time to wonder much, however. The instructor’s back and it looks like things are good to go.
*
The experience is utterly amazing. Not only do I see sand tiger sharks, I also see a whole host of fish and marine life, including clownfish and seahorses. I even stroke one of the sharks, with some encouragement from the instructor.
When I come out, I can’t keep the smile off my face. I climb out of my scuba gear as fast as I can and go to meet Emma and Zara, who’ve been watching my dive from the viewers’ tunnel.