‘There’s no need to take your stress out on me or Nadia.’
‘I’m not. I just think you’re making a huge mistake.’
‘I love her.’
‘CHARLIE!’ Nadia roared. ‘Hurry up. The baby so hungry.’
‘She’s very easy to love.’ I tried not to smile.
‘She’s just not feeling well today.’
‘She’s a joy to have around. The next thirty-six weeks of her pregnancy are sure to be great fun.’
‘CHARLIE!’ Nadia screeched.
Charlie rushed out with the sandwich and I headed off to work.
Later that evening when I got home, Paul was in the kitchen making dinner.
‘Wow!’ I was stunned.
‘I thought I’d cook tonight, give you a break.’
‘Fantastic. I’m thrilled.’
‘How was work?’
‘Actually, I enjoyed it. I feel bad admitting it, but it was nice to have a bit of mental time out from worrying about Ali.’
He nodded. ‘I know what you mean. I’ve just been in the pub doing the wages and I didn’t think about Ali for a whole hour.’
‘I spoke to her earlier.’
‘How was she?’
‘Not great. She’s still really angry about being put in the clinic. I explained yet again that we were just trying to help but she doesn’t want to know. To be honest, she barely said two words to me.’
‘I hope we’re doing the right thing.’
‘Me too. Hopefully Mary Boland will be able to reassure us when we see her in two days.’
‘Did you get to talk to that nurse, Denise?’ Paul asked.
‘She says Ali’s doing well, but it’ll be slow. She thinks she’ll be on bed-rest for at least another week or two.’
‘I don’t know, Ava, it seems very rigid.’
‘We’ve been over this a million times. She needs their help, Paul. She was getting really bad at home.’
‘You’re right.’ He turned back to stir the pot.
Sarah strolled in the door with her tangerine man in tow. ‘Oh, my God – Dad, are you cooking?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Why?’
‘I felt like giving your mother a break.’
‘You must have done something really bad.’
‘No, he didn’t, and I’m delighted he’s cooking so don’t put him off,’ I warned her.
‘Every time I walk in the door something weird’s going on in this family. First Ali going to the nuthouse, then Nadia and the baby and now Dad cooking –’
‘Hi, Bobby.’ I interrupted Sarah’s sarcasm.
‘Howzit going, Mrs M? I hear there’s a pitter-patter of, like, tiny feet on its way.’
‘The less said about that the better.’
‘Can Bobby stay for dinner?’ Sarah asked.
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘His mum’s away again and Mia, the housekeeper, is at her English class.’
‘Well, Bobby, if you’re ever stuck for dinner, feel free to call over here,’ I said.
‘Thanks, Mrs M, I appreciate that.’
‘Yeah, tea-time is so much fun in our house. We all stare at Ali while she spits her food into her napkin.’
‘Stop that, Sarah,’ Paul said. ‘Your sister’s sick. Don’t make fun of her.’
‘How was school?’ I changed the subject.
‘Crap. Everyone kept following me around asking if it was true that my sister had been locked up in a loony bin. You should hear the rumours. One girl actually asked me if it was true that Ali ate nothing but her fingernails. Someone else asked me how Ali had lost all the weight and if I could give her a list of everything she’d cut out of her diet because she thought she looked great.’
‘God, that’s sick.’ I was shocked.
‘Some of the girls were giving Sarah a really hard time,’ Bobby said.
‘What did they say?’
Sarah shrugged. ‘Jane Collins, who is a fat cow and has always been jealous of Ali, told everyone that Ali was in a straitjacket because she couldn’t get over David and that when Bobby dumped me I’d end up there too.’
‘The little bitch,’ Paul raged.
‘I’m going to call the headmistress first thing tomorrow,’ I fumed.
‘No, Mum, you’re not. It’s all fine now. Bobby and me dealt with it. Bobby told Jane he had no intention of breaking up with the coolest girlfriend ever and that she was just a fat loser who spread rumours about people because she had no life.’
‘Good man, Bobby,’ Paul said.
‘Brilliant retort,’ I added.
‘You were amazing too, babe,’ Bobby said. ‘When the vultures were asking Sarah all these questions, trying to find out what was going on so they could gossip about Ali, she made it sound as if Ali being in a clinic was actually really cool.’
Sarah fiddled with her watch. ‘I told everyone that Ali had mental exhaustion and was in a really exclusive top-secret rehab clinic with lots of celebrities. So now everyone’s jealous of her. They think she’s in the Priory.’
‘Good for you. I’m proud of you defending your sister like that.’ Paul smiled at her.
‘There was no way I was going to let those bitches spread rumours about Ali.’
‘I’m sorry you had to deal with all that. Girls can be very cruel.’
‘I’m fine, Mum, it’s no big deal.’ I watched her blink back tears as Bobby took her hand and squeezed it.
‘So, Paul, what’s for dinner?’
‘How does pasta with sauce sound?’ He waved a jar of Loyd Grossman at us.
‘A lot better than frozen pizza,’ Bobby admitted.
‘Do you often have dinner on your own?’ I asked.
‘Well, my dad lives in Spain most of the time and my mum visits him a lot so I suppose you could say I’m no stranger to frozen dinners.’
‘But Mia cooks for him sometimes,’ Sarah said.
‘Yeah, Mia’s, like, a really good cook, but she has English lessons two nights a week.’
‘Where’s Mia from?’
‘China. She does great Chinese food, actually.’
‘Does your mum ever cook?’ I was curious to know what she did. Sarah had told me she didn’t work and was a lady of leisure.
He smiled. ‘Not really. She doesn’t eat much apart from salads – she’s always on a diet – so I kind of look after myself.’
‘You should see her, Mum. She’s super-slim, like Victoria Beckham.’
Hardly bloody surprising if all she eats is lettuce. ‘I thought you hadn’t met Bobby’s mum.’
‘I haven’t yet, but I’ve seen pictures of her in the house. She’s really glamorous.’
I now regretted having changed after work. I was in tracksuit bottoms and sweat-shirt – I looked more Sporty Spice than Posh Spice. ‘Well, Bobby, you’re always welcome to come to our house for dinner.’
‘Thanks. I really like coming here – there’s always loads of stuff going on. It’s crazy and fun. It’s a real family house. I guess because I’m an only child my house is way too quiet. And you’re a very good cook, Mrs M.’
‘That’s very nice of you, Bobby. You must feel free to stay for dinner more often. There’s always plenty.’
‘Speaking of good cooks, who wants some pasta?’ Paul asked.
‘I’m starving,’ Sarah said, as Paul and I rushed to serve her, thrilled that at least one of our daughters wanted to eat.
34
Two days later, Paul and I sat nervously in Mary Boland’s office. I was pinning a lot of my hopes on Mary being able to reveal what was wrong with Ali. I was also praying that she’d tell us Ali was on the road to recovery and would be home soon.
‘Paul, Ava, nice to see you again.’ She shook our hands.
While Mary opened her file on Ali, I blurted out, ‘So, how is she? Did you get to the bottom of it? Is she all right? Did something awful happen that we don’t know about? Is she going to be cured?’
Mary waite
d for me to pause for breath. ‘I’ve had several sessions with Alison over the last few days. She’s a lovely, bright, intelligent girl who is trapped in a cycle of controlling her food because she feels out of control in other aspects of her life. The important thing to realize here is that Alison’s problems are not about food and weight. She simply wants to distract herself from her real emotions.’
‘So why is she starving herself?’ I was desperate to get to the bottom of it.
‘When you control hunger you feel better. It blocks everything else out. Alison’s food control is keeping everything together. She feels that if she gives up this control, her life will fall apart. It is her “safe place”. She doesn’t want to be “fixed”. Starvation is causing an emotional disconnection.’
‘From what? Is this because of David breaking up with her?’ I asked.
‘There are many aspects to it,’ Mary explained. ‘Alison told me about the break-up and how heartbroken she was, and humiliated, when David immediately started going out with Tracy, but she also mentioned something more dramatic that had happened a long time ago when she was nine, something she hasn’t been able to forget. An incident that had a very big impact on all your lives. She said it’s something she has never felt able to discuss with you. Something you covered up. A taboo.’
Paul and I looked at each other. ‘Oh, my God. I thought she believed the story I told her,’ I said.
‘I didn’t think she’d seen anything,’ Paul added.
‘In fact, she saw the whole incident and was traumatized by it. This, plus the upset of David rejecting her for a thinner girl, made her decide to try to lose some weight. She realized that she liked the feeling of being in complete control so the downward spiral began. Alison also has extremely low self-esteem, which is very common in eating disorders. We need to build that back up.’
‘She’s a beautiful, bright, intelligent girl. Why would she have low self-esteem? I don’t understand.’ Paul was clearly feeling frustrated.
‘A lot of creative, intelligent, articulate girls have low self-esteem. They tend to be very sensitive souls and can sense when something is not right at home and will always try to make it better. They put others first.’
‘She does do that,’ Paul agreed. ‘She’s always been the peacemaker in our house.’
‘So, what do we do?’ I begged.
‘By seeking professional help and sending her to the clinic you are doing everything you can to help her recover. But Alison is still in denial that she has a problem. My job is to get her to accept that she is using control over food as a form of escape and suppression of emotions. But only she can fully make herself better. I’ve asked her to write a letter to the anorexia. It should help her to express how she feels. Recovery will be a slow process, but it is important to remember that she can be cured of this.’
‘I may have made it worse. I hit her,’ Paul blurted out. ‘Did she tell you? I didn’t want to send her away to the clinic but she refused to eat and I lost it and hit her. I have never hit my daughters – I’m not that kind of man. I still can’t believe I did it.’ His voice shook. He looked down at his hands. I put my arm round his shoulders.
‘She did mention the incident,’ said Mary. ‘But I know you’re a good father – Alison adores you. She told me how out of character it was. Just remember to control your anger the next time, because I have to warn you both, this is going to be a long, uphill and frustrating battle. Eating disorders like anorexia don’t cure themselves overnight.’
‘It will never happen again, I can promise you that,’ Paul assured her.
‘How can we help her?’ I asked.
‘You have sought the correct care for her and now you need to leave it up to the professionals. Obviously you will be instrumental in supporting her recovery, but it’s up to us and, more importantly, up to Alison now.’
‘So there’s nothing specific that we can do?’
‘Your role for the next while will be to cheer her on and support from the sidelines while we work our magic.’
‘But there must be something I can do. I’m her mother – I know her better than anyone else.’ I was finding it hard to let go. I wanted to be involved in my daughter’s recovery. I hated not seeing her or what was going on. Since I was seventeen, I’d had to look after myself. I was used to being in control and liked to be in charge. I liked to be informed. I didn’t want to leave Ali completely in the hands of the professionals. I wanted to work alongside them, not be pushed into the background. What if she needed me? What if they tried to get her to eat something she didn’t like?
‘There are things that only a mother knows – like the fact that Ali hates blueberries,’ I persisted.
Mary leant forward. ‘Ava, I understand this is difficult for you. Leaving your most precious possession in the hands of others is the hardest thing to do, but I can assure you that we know exactly what we’re doing. You need to let go. Alison is the only person who can make Alison better. She’s almost an adult now and she has to do this on her own, with help and support, of course, but if she doesn’t heal herself, she will relapse.’
I tried not to get upset. A mother’s job was to fix things when they went wrong but in this case I had to step back and watch her struggle through on her own. I suppose it was like when your child takes their first steps and every time they wobble you want to reach out and save them, but the only way they learn how to get back up is by falling down.
‘This is a tough situation for any family so I want you to remember to take time for yourselves and your younger daughter. Continue with your jobs and your lives, otherwise it will consume you.’
‘OK, Doc. Bottom line, is Ali going to get better?’ Paul asked.
Mary paused. ‘Yes, I believe she will.’
Sarah was waiting for us when we got home. ‘So, what did the psychologist say? Are we all mad?’
‘Don’t joke about it. It’s very serious,’ I said.
‘I’m just trying to cheer you up. It’s nothing but bloody doom and gloom in this house.’
‘You’re right,’ Paul observed. ‘You are absolutely right. We can’t all sit around being miserable. It’s not going to help anyone.’
‘Wow, Dad, you do realize that you have, like, actually agreed with me for the first time ever?’ Sarah said.
‘Miracles do happen.’ He smiled.
‘So is it because of David? Is that why she’s not eating? Is she going to be OK?’
‘They think she’ll be fine. But we need to talk to you about something.’ I led her to a chair and told her to sit down.
‘Oh, God, what now?’
‘Ali told the psychologist about something she witnessed when she was nine. It had a very bad effect on her and I –’
‘Oh, please, are you talking about Dad being shot?’
Paul stared at her. ‘You know about it too?’
‘Come on, guys, it was like downtown LA, with all the gunfire and the shouting. I probably would have slept through it but I was sharing a room with Ali who was all freaked out and woke me up. She was crying and shouting, “Dad’s dead.” But when I looked out the window, I saw you waving your arms and roaring, so I knew you were all right. The next day Mum made up the story about the appendix and it was pretty obvious that you wanted us to play along, so that was that.’
‘Weren’t you affected by it?’ I asked.
Sarah looked genuinely puzzled. ‘No. Why would I be? Dad was totally fine and the guy went to prison. End of story.’
‘Did you worry he might come back?’ Paul asked her.
‘No, because Mr Hardy across the road told me it was an accident waiting to happen. He said you were looking for trouble coming home from the pub with a big bag full of cash from the tills every night. He said every criminal in Dublin targeted businesses that dealt in cash. He said you were a total moron for trying to fight off Brendan Howlitt and hold on to the bag, and it was a good thing that you’d got shot, because now you were behaving resp
onsibly and putting the money into a night safe after closing the pub, and the neighbourhood would be a much safer place because of it.’
‘That interfering fucker! I’ll kill him!’ Paul hissed.
I couldn’t believe that grumpy old busybody would say something like that to a child. It had been a really traumatic time. Paul had very nearly died on the operating table and I was a nervous wreck for months. It was only really when Howlitt was put away for fifteen years that we began to relax again and put it behind us. Our priority at the time had been to protect the girls from it. Charlie had been amazing: he had moved in and helped out with them while Paul was in hospital and been a rock of strength for me. I would have been lost without him.
‘Dad, I wouldn’t bother confronting Mr Hardy. He’s got Alzheimer’s and the shooting happened, like, eight years ago, so I’d say the chances of him remembering are slim to none.’
‘So you honestly don’t think you were affected by it in a bad way?’ I wanted to be sure she wasn’t just being brave.
‘Nope, not at all. Ali used to have nightmares about Howlitt getting out of prison and coming back to kill us all in our beds, but I never did.’
‘I remember Ali’s nightmares. She always said she was dreaming of ghosts. I should have guessed.’
‘Come on, Mum, how were you supposed to know that Ali’s ghost was actually a code-word for the freak who shot Dad?’
‘I should have handled the whole thing differently. I just wanted to protect you. I was so terrified that Dad was going to die I couldn’t think straight.’
‘Don’t sweat it.’
‘Are you annoyed with us for pretending I was in hospital with appendicitis?’ Paul asked her.
‘No. Look, guys, I’m not throwing up after eating, I’m not taking drugs or cutting myself or leading a double life as a hooker because eight years ago you tried to protect us from the truth. I’m cool with it. Ali’s always been way too sensitive.’
How could two daughters born of the same parents be so different? I was extremely relieved that Sarah wasn’t angry with me, but I felt wretched that Ali had been so frightened, that I hadn’t known and hadn’t been there to comfort her. I had been so wrapped up in trying to get Paul better and keeping things ‘normal’ at home.
Pieces of My Heart Page 24