Page 37 of Lost Luggage
Dolly took another biscuit. ‘See. Talking isn’t always easy.’
Phoebe put down her mug. ‘Susan isn’t a friend. She is… or was, my therapist.’
Oh. Dolly thought back to their pub meal and how Phoebe had initially made a fuss about not wanting to meet for food out. A digestive disorder like Crohn’s disease might explain that. An assistant at the garden centre that she and Greta liked most once explained how she could be laid up for weeks with it, how she had counselling to deal with the pain.
‘I shouldn’t have pried. I hope any treatment you’ve had has helped.’
Phoebe fiddled with the drawstring hanging from the hood of her sports top. ‘I’ve… had problems with eating. I don’t expect you to understand,’ she added. ‘Trust me, I’ve heard it all from neighbours, mates, even GPs – “Just eat normally, three meals a day,” “You look fine the way you are,” “It’s mind over matter…”’ Her face smarted. ‘Even, “Some children are starving, you should be ashamed of yourself.”’
‘Oh, Phoebe… I’m so sorry to hear that, love. I had no idea. But suffering isn’t relative, is it? It’s like someone who’s lost their whole family telling me losing one sister is nothing.’ Dolly patted the seat next to her. Arms folded and hugging her own waist, Phoebe went over. ‘I’ve read about it in magazines. I can see now why swimming, why the bake-off, might be extra difficult for you.’ How quickly Phoebe had got into the pool once her towel was off, how she’d told Dolly it was rude to stare… and in the notebook, the trip to Paris, how Phoebe’s biggest concern had been if she would look chic…
‘That was the first time I’d been swimming in ages. I wish I could be more like you and not care so much about my appearance,’ said Phoebe.
‘Is that supposed to be a compliment?’ Dolly smiled and put her arm around her. Dolly explained how her mum pulled out all the stops to look attractive. She’d spend hours on the loo – Dolly worked out when she got older that her mum had been taking laxatives. But it never did her any good, she only attracted losers, and the harder she tried, the worse they seemed to treat her. So Dolly could never be much bothered about what stared back at her from the mirror.
‘Fred and I were opposites from that point of view. He loved keeping up with the latest fashions, all those big lapels and flares.’
Phoebe’s eyes widened. ‘But he’s always dressed so conservatively.’
‘He had this bright turquoise cocktail chair.’
‘No!’
Phoebe should have seen the silver satin suit he’d wear to nightclubs. He put it on in his flat once – they hadn’t been dating that long. It was December 1973, a power cut, he said to go around for a candle-lit sandwich dinner. He reckoned his suit would reflect the light. His battery-run radio worked and they danced together, singing along to the current chart number one, ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ by Slade.
The two of them sat for a while, Phoebe leaning into Dolly like Flo did if she’d had another argument with her parents or got told off by a teacher at school. Eventually Noddy Holder stopped singing in Dolly’s head.
‘So, how are you doing now, darling?’ she asked Phoebe.
‘Better. I’ve got my job. I’ve done these monthly challenges. The martial arts day pushed me to the limit. Tai chi is an exercise that doesn’t burn a huge number of calories – Susan said I should find hobbies that weren’t connected to my problems. In the past I’ve always used exercise as a means of compensating for overeating, and therefore it’s enabled my most harmful behaviours. Maisie thought the judo would test me as well; I’ve always found physical contact with people difficult.’ Phoebe leaned even closer. ‘Now that’s not such a big issue.’
‘It sounds as if this Susan – and Maisie – have really helped your move forwards.’
‘They’ve both been amazing. It was a joke getting help at first. If you’ve got a normal BMI there’s not much out there. Lots of eating disorders are invisible illnesses – bulimia, binge-eating disorder like I’ve got, or rather had. As I’ve headed into recovery it’s become more a pattern of sporadic disordered eating. Even anorexia can be invisible in some cases, as the fashion these days is to be so thin anyway… sorry. I’m probably boring you.’
‘Don’t stop.’
Phoebe tried hard, now, not to class days as good or bad. In the past, if not bingeing, she’d only eat super healthy foods. Take the pub lunch – it’s why she forced herself to order cheese, when she’d normally only allow herself a low-fat food like lean ham. Susan had taught Phoebe to be kind to herself. That had made all the difference. To never speak to herself in a way she wouldn’t let other people.
Dolly wanted to know how it started. A surname like Goodbody opened the gates for comments from the other kids in her class, Phoebe explained; she had been a little overweight. However, school was okay once she realised that the so-called cool people were dickheads. But that first term at uni, she was having so much fun, she didn’t eat properly. The weight fell off and she got loads of compliments. Phoebe thought no one would like her if she put it back on.
‘The pressure of not wanting to put on weight made me binge. Human nature, I guess. Susan says it doesn’t do any good to deprive ourselves. When I think I’m failing at how I look, and at life, the misery increases and so does my urge to dive into food. For a few seconds, those carbs, the sugar and fats, they pass as the best friends in the world. Like when you’re little and someone you love gives you a hug and makes everything better. But afterwards I hate myself even more. It’s a vicious cycle, or used to be, my eating habits are much better these days.’
‘It’s a top priority to be liked?’ asked Dolly, genuinely curious.
‘You’ve seen social media. That’s the way it is nowadays. I keep well away from it now. It’s all about follows and likes. I’ve talked a lot with Susan. I think it goes back to my parents not being around.’ Phoebe’s mum died in a car crash when she was five. Her dad couldn’t cope and sought refuge in drink. His liver packed up in the end. It was as if Phoebe couldn’t stop talking now she’d started. ‘I wasn’t enough to keep him here. He chose death over me. When I went away to uni the damage that had caused surfaced. Looking back, Granddad and Gran had always said I was no trouble… it’s because I thought I had to be perfect, because me being me wasn’t enough. Then when I lost weight, in the eyes of certain people I reached a level of perfection. I was scared of losing that.’
Dolly’s eyes dropped to Phoebe’s wrist. ‘I have a confession. I did wear that yellow crystal bracelet a few times. It’s such an unusual colour.’
‘Citrine. It helps you stick to your goals. The only place I go online, and that’s anonymously, is in a support forum. Several of the friends I’ve made there… they haven’t made it. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate, you know, out of all psychiatric illnesses.’ Her voice wavered. ‘The members have introduced me to lots of helpful things, including healing crystals.’
‘Is that symbol to do with your eating? The one on your tattoo and T-shirt.’
‘It’s the eating disorder recovery symbol. For me the curves of the lines remind me that curves are okay, eating healthily is the most important thing, not being skinny. The overall heart shape represents self-love and kindness. It probably sounds silly but on really bad days, wearing the T-shirt, looking at my tattoo… both of those give me strength.’
‘Oh, love, it doesn’t sound silly at all.’
Poor Fred, He’d suffered too, lost a daughter, and a son-in-law, then his wife. ‘Did you ever used to talk to your grandparents about this?’
