would be like being in a bar with lines of coke spread across the counter.
‘How are you today?’ she asked me in her British accent.
‘I’m doing okay, thanks, Lizzie,’ I responded, wondering if she remembered me rolling her onto her side last night when she was snoring fit to wake every coyote in the neighbourhood.
‘You look a lot better. Your eyes are brighter. Not that they were ever dull,’ she added quickly. ‘You have beautiful eyes, Electra.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling guilty as I munched on my enchilada, which she stared at in a way that told me she’d kill just for a taste of it. ‘How about you?’
‘Oh, I’m doing well,’ she replied. ‘I’ve lost twelve pounds since I came in – only another three weeks and Christopher will hardly recognise me!’
Christopher was Lizzie’s husband. An LA producer who, so Lizzie had confided to me at length, was the usual cliché of the married man who played around. Lizzie was convinced that if she lost twenty pounds, his shenanigans would stop. The fact was, she wasn’t even fat in the first place, and I wasn’t sure how much of her was actually real either. She’d been nipped and tucked and lifted so much that it looked like a pair of invisible hands were dragging the skin on her face upwards. Personally, I didn’t hold out much hope for Christopher’s return to fidelity. In my humble opinion, Lizzie wasn’t addicted to food, she was addicted to pleasing her husband.
‘How much longer have you got now?’ she asked.
‘A week, and then I’m out of here.’
‘You’ve done so well, Electra. I’ve seen so many who have come in here who don’t, you know. And you’re far too beautiful and bright to need all that stuff,’ she added as she forked up a leaf of rocket salad and chewed it purposefully as if it was a chunky piece of rib-eye steak. ‘I’m proud of you.’
‘Hey, thanks,’ I smiled, feeling that this was my first proper ‘good’ day and it felt great to get compliments like that. ‘There’s a new girl in our dorm, by the way,’ I added, wondering if it was okay for me to bring a slice of chocolate cheesecake back to the table in front of her.
‘Oh, yes, Vanessa.’ Lizzie raised her eyebrows – she was always the first to know anything in here and I soaked up her gossip. ‘Poor love. She’s so young – only just eighteen apparently. One of the detox nurses told me she was picked out of a gutter in New York by some wealthy person, who has sponsored the cost of getting her properly clean here. State-funded programme for juveniles do exist, but a kid gets in and by the time they’ve detoxed and are technically clean, they’re out and back to their old life. And using again within weeks,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘And if you’re legally an adult, like Vanessa is now, then forget it.’
It had only dawned on me in the past few days, as my brain had started to function properly, that we in here were the privileged few. I hadn’t had to even think about what it would cost to come in and get clean, just whether I wanted to or not. There were thousands of young American kids who were addicts like me, with no hope of getting the kind of proper treatment they needed.
‘The nurse said Vanessa’s one of the worst cases she’s had in here. She was in the detox clinic for four days. Poor little thing.’ Lizzie, despite her desperation to be beautiful and the carnage she had wreaked on her once pretty face, had a definite motherly quality to her. ‘We’ll look after her, won’t we, Electra?’
‘We’ll try, Lizzie, yes.’
That afternoon, to work off my lunch, I went for a run along the nature trail that looped around the perimeter of The Ranch. As I ran, I remembered my trek up the mountain behind Atlantis over a month ago and how much better I’d felt after it. Even though the dry, hot Arizona air burnt in my lungs and stung my nose as I breathed, I kept going.
I came to a halt near the water cooler and poured myself a cup which I drank down thirstily, and then another which I sprayed all over me. I plopped down on a bench and enjoyed the feeling of . . . well, feeling. Despite my reluctance to embrace The Ranch’s spiritual approach, just sitting here with the mountains behind