what the doctor said. For a month.’
Her guts seized with fear. Oh, no. No. ‘There’s no need, Ed. I’ve scared myself so much that I’ll never do it again.’
‘She gave me a leaflet. Bulimia’s an addiction. You need to go to a place.’
‘What about my job?’
‘You won’t be much use to them if you’re dead.’
‘Ed, I won’t be dead.’
‘But, honey, you might.’
The sadness that was hiding beneath his rage was suddenly obvious and her heart turned to jelly. ‘Ed, sweetie … You got a fright. I got a fright. But I’ve stopped now. It’ll be okay.’
‘The doctor knows what she’s talking about. I’ll ring the places in the morning.’
Ed took professional advice literally. It was something she had always found endearing, but not now.
SIXTY-TWO
Cara knocked on Jessie’s door, and a voice shouted, ‘Come in, unless you’re Johnny the arsehole Casey!’
Cara tentatively stepped into the room, Ed behind her.
Jessie was in bed, in her pyjamas, Saoirse asleep beside her. The curtains were open, letting in dull morning light.
‘Jessie, I’m so sorry for ruining your birthday.’
Breezily, Jessie said, ‘You haven’t ruined it, you big eejit. Johnny did that, all by himself. But I’m worried about you! Is it true? Bulimia?’
Cara burnt. This must mean that the whole house knew. ‘I’ll be fine.’ She tried to smile. ‘It was just a blip.’
‘We’re going to head off now,’ Ed said. ‘Cara has an appointment this afternoon at St David’s.’
‘The nut-house?’ Jessie’s eyes flared with something. Glee? ‘On a Saturday?’
‘The psychiatric hospital.’ Ed corrected. ‘To see if she’d be a good fit.’
‘Sure. Sure. Do whatever you need to do.’
Out on the landing, Cara said, ‘Where’s Johnny, do you think?’
‘Probably Saoirse’s room, if Saoirse stayed with Jessie.’
Johnny was indeed in the camp bed in the small kitchen. His doctor’s accoutrements were flung about the room, the top-hat balanced on the kettle. He radiated exhausted, manic conviviality.
‘Sorry for ruining the weekend.’
‘Not at all!’ He shrugged extravagantly. ‘Everything is my fault. Don’t even think about it.’
‘I need to apologize to Ferdia and Nell too,’ Cara said. ‘And thank them.’
‘This reminds me,’ Johnny was talking too loudly, ‘of the day after Ed’s stag night. I had to apologize to every one of my neighbours. Woudja stop! I banged saucepans against their doors all night long. Marching up and down the stairs, singing rebel songs. Drinking rum. Never again, ha-ha-ha, never again.’
Johnny was clearly still a bit drunk and very distressed.
Cara managed a polite ha-ha at his story but everything was dismal.
‘Off you go,’ he said. ‘Good luck at the loony-bin!’
As they made their way to the car, Cara felt the eyes of the house on her. She was a fuck-up, a weak, greedy person, and everyone knew. She’d never, in her entire life, felt as low as she did right now. ‘Jessie’s thrilled,’ she said.
‘Oh, honey. Not in a mean way. She’s just excited about having an interesting family.’
‘Compulsive overeating is a mental illness,’ Varina, the admissions officer at the hospital, was clear. ‘So is bulimia.’
But Cara knew that the only thing wrong with her was simple greed. She wasn’t a mad person and she didn’t want to be treated as one. ‘I can stop on my own.’
‘Have you tried?’
‘Yes. Not really. But it’s different now. I’ve scared myself.’
‘If nothing changes, nothing changes,’ Varina said.
Cara didn’t even know what that meant. She just wanted to return to her ordinary life and put all of this behind her. ‘I can stop on my own. I’m sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused everyone and thank you for your time.’
‘But –’ Ed was white.
‘If you’re bothered by the stigma of being in a psychiatric hospital, we could take you as a day patient. It’s not ideal, but –’
‘I can stop. I’ve stopped. It’s in the past.’
Bouncing the end of a pencil against her desk, Varina appeared deep in thought. ‘Maybe you can stop on your own. Time will tell. Having a seizure is generally a red flag that bulimia is at an advanced stage … However, as your life isn’t in immediate danger, you can’t be compelled to come in here.’
‘But –’ Ed said again.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Casey,’ Varina said. ‘I cannot help you if you don’t see the need yourself.’
Out in the corridor, ecstatic that she’d dodged a bullet, Cara whispered happily, ‘It’ll be okay, honey, I promise.’
Ed regarded her coldly.
‘I mean it. Everything is going to be different. I’m glad the seizure happened, well, not glad for upsetting you, but finally I feel free of the food.’
Ed saw the traffic