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At college, I sought counselling, and it helped. It took time, and often it felt as if I was taking one step forward, only to end up two steps back. I avoided friendships and intimate relationships, I cut my mother out of my life, and eventually, I stopped wanting to harm myself. And then I found Andy, and for the first time, I knew what it felt like to be happy.
Except now I wonder: was it the old self-hatred that led me to fall in love with a man who’s always,always, made me feel second best? Was that all I felt I deserved?
Whatever has driven Bella to do this, I can’t bear her to feel such pain. The anger I thought I’d tamed long ago flares back into life, but this time, it has a new target. ‘I’m not going to ask why,’ I tell her. ‘But you need to talk to someone about this.’
‘No,’ she says, alarmed. ‘You can’t tell anyone!’
‘Bella—’
‘Please, Caz. They’ll send me to a shrink. I’ll stop, I promise. I’m trying.’
I know better than anyone how hard it is to stop what Bella is doing. Even if you manage to control the cutting, that doesn’t mean you stop self-harming. There are so many ways to sabotage yourself. Drink. Drugs.
Toxic relationships.
But I also know that Bella needs someone to listen to her. Right now, neither of her parents are looking in her direction. I’ve been where she is. She needs someone she can trust, not someone else telling her what to do.
‘Next time you feel like cutting, you call me,’ I say,gripping her hands in mine and forcing her to look at me. ‘Day or night. You call me, OK?’
‘OK.’
I hug her, hard. I don’t know what – or who – is driving this beautiful, intelligent, funny child to hurt herself like this, but I’m going to find out. And then I’m going to stop it, whatever it takes.
Chapter 31
Louise
I’m fetching the car from the hospital car park when Min calls me. ‘I can’t talk now,’ I say, crooking the phone between my neck and shoulder as I scrabble through my bag for my car keys. ‘They’re discharging Bella, so I’m just about to drive her home.’
‘What did the doctor say?’
‘All the tests came back clear. There’s no swelling or bleeding on the brain, thank God.’
‘Thank God,’ Min echoes.
We’re both silent for a moment, remembering Nicky. My brother had been fine at first, after his accident; a bit banged up, certainly, several broken ribs and a lot of bruising, and a rather nasty cut on his forehead where he’d hit the windscreen, but the doctor had assured my mother it was nothing time couldn’t heal.
Except Nicky hadn’t had time, of course. The pathologist concluded he’d suffered from something called second-impact syndrome, when the brain swells rapidly, and catastrophically, after a person suffers a second concussion before symptoms of an earlier one havesubsided. We had no way of knowing it until the inquest, but three weeks earlier, Nicky had been tackled to the ground during a rugby game. It was such a minor injury, he’d jumped right up and carried on playing; he hadn’t even mentioned it when he’d got home. But that rugby tackle had somehow left his brain vulnerable, and the car crash then unleashed a series of metabolic events in his head that had doomed him even as the nurse had written up his discharge papers.
I don’t care what the doctor says now: I’m not letting Bella out of my sight.
‘Look,’ Min says, ‘I’ll leave you to it. I just wanted to chat with you about something. Can you give me a call when it all settles down?’
‘Sure. Is something wrong?’
‘No, no, nothing like that. It can wait.’
I promise to call her later, then drive back to the ED, and text Bella that I’m outside. A few moments later, my daughter emerges into the hot July sunshine, her head swathed in bandages. Leaving the engine running, I get out and go around to the passenger door to help her into the car.
Caz beats me to it.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the night I drove to London and confronted her about Bagpuss. I dig my fingernails into my palms, fighting the urge to scratch her eyes out. ‘What are you doing here?’
Bella deliberately puts herself between us. ‘She came to see if I was OK. It was reallyniceof her,’ she adds firmly.
‘I got your text, Louise,’ Caz tells me. ‘I was worried when I didn’t hear back from you. I had to come down and make sure Bella was OK.’
‘How thoughtful of you,’ I say acidly. ‘But there was no need. Everything’s fine.’
