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‘Yes. Well, I’m married to her dad.’
Her expression cools. ‘So, notactualfamily, then?’
I suppress the urge to punch the woman on the nose. ‘She’s my daughter,’ I say tersely.
‘If you could take a seat, someone will be out to see you shortly.’
I eye the double doors to the right of the reception desk. I’m tempted to make a run for it and find Bella myself, but I tamp down my anxiety and frustration, and return to the waiting area. I go over to the vending machine, jabbing in the numbers for a strong black coffee. I realise I haven’t eaten all day, and add a mini-pack of Digestives.
As I reach into the vending bin, I suddenly catch sight of Bella sitting in a small bay just along the corridor to my left. Her head is heavily bandaged, but she’s uprightand scrolling through her phone. As far as I can see, she’s alone.
I abandon my coffee and biscuits and rush over. ‘Bella!’ I exclaim. ‘Are you all right? What happened? I’ve been worried sick!’
She looks up, startled. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Your mother texted me. She was trying to reach your dad.’ I glance around. ‘Where is she?’
‘She went to get the car. The doctor said we can go home, but I’m not supposed to walk anywhere for a bit, and she parked miles away.’
I perch on the hard plastic chair beside her bed. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s nothing. A rounder’s ball hit me in the head. Don’t worry, I wasn’t playing,’ Bella adds, with a flash of dry humour. ‘I had a free period, and I didn’t feel like studying, so I went to watch. I was just unlucky, that’s all.’
‘Did you get knocked out?’
‘Yeah. You know, it’s true, you actually do see stars. I threw up, too, so the school called an ambulance. And Mum.’ She grimaces. ‘She totally freaked out. She’s been ringing everyone. I’m really sorry you came all the way here for nothing.’
‘She’s your mum. It’s her job to freak out. And I didn’t come for nothing. I came to see you were OK.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘The same thing happened to me when I was at college. Cricket ball. You’re going to have a bit of a headache for a few days, but just take it easy, and you’ll be fine.’
‘If Mum doesn’t drive me crazy first.’
‘Did she get hold of your dad?’ I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
‘I don’t think so. He’s at work, right? He never picks up when he’s doing interviews and stuff.’
A male nurse joins us and pulls a privacy curtain across the bay, smiling at Bella. ‘Mind if I do a quick check of your blood pressure before you go?’
He wraps a cuff around her upper arm, the sleeve of her shirt riding up as he takes her pulse. Bella quickly tugs it back down; but not quite quickly enough. It takes an effort of will to keep the shock from showing on my face.
‘Yep, all good,’ the nurse says, unfastening the cuff. ‘No more stopping balls with your head, OK?’
Bella nods weakly. As soon as he’s gone, I reach for her arm, but she snatches it away. ‘Bella,’ I say softly. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s nothing,’ she mutters.
I hesitate for a long moment. And then I hitch up my skirt, high enough for her to see the top of my thighs. ‘It’snotnothing,’ I say.
She stares at the criss-cross hatching of pale scars on my legs. They’re almost invisible now, but I know they’re there. I always know they’re there.
It’s been years since I cut myself, but the pull is still strong. I can still remember the exquisite way it used to sting right before it bled, and the sudden release of all the pent-up fear and rage and pain from my body, all the emotion I was powerless to express. Looking back now,I can’t think of a single day of my childhood when I didn’t feel sad. I used to lie on the floor of my bedroom, barely able to breathe, so angry and miserable I would cry for hours, hating myself for something I couldn’t control, that wasn’t my fault. I was depressed, but at the time, I thought my brain was broken. The only way I could cope with the pain was to shut down emotionally, to crush all my feelings and become numb.
But I was a young girl, and no matter how dead I felt inside, the yearning for life was like water, forcing its way through barren rock. Despite myself, I desperately wanted tofeelagain. There was a time when the cutting was the only way I knew I was alive. When I cut, at least I feltsomething.
When my mother found out about it she hit me and screamed. I started to cut myself around my ribs and on my side to hide the marks. I couldn’t stop. I thought I was meant to be the girl who killed herself, so I didn’t care about the scars. I couldn’t imagine I had a future.
Angie was the only one who knew, apart from my mother.He did this to you, she said bitterly.You’re not going to let him win, are you?
I knew she was right, but it didn’t make any difference. It was only when my mother tried to hang herself that my rage was finally directed at someone other than myself. She had norightto take her own life.She’d known what had been happening behind my closed bedroom door, and she’d done nothing to help. Why should she get the easy way out, when I was the one in pain?
