Chapter Two

Karen sat gloomily on her bed staring fixedly out of the window at the garden below.  Anorexia nervosa, they called it  - the skinny disease – the fear of putting on weight.  It was so nonsensical that she was too thin: they were all crazy!

  Just then a nurse came bustling into the ward carrying a large glass.  She stopped at Karen’s bed.  “Time for your tonic, my girl,” she said kindly.

  Aghast, Karen looked at the glass.  “Must I drink all that?” she asked in a shocked voice.

  “Yes, my dear.  That poor undernourished body of yours is crying out for food.”  The nurse smiled.  “Don’t make a fuss: drink up like a good girl.”

  “I’m not a baby.  I’m sixteen years old, and I will not drink that stuff. It’s far too fattening.”  Karen was flushed and angry.

  “You know the rules.  You have to take whatever is given to you to eat or drink, otherwise you’ll go on the drip,” the nurse said with an obstinate set to her chin.  “Come on now, dear: it’s for your own good,” she pleaded as she pushed the glass into Karen’s unwilling hand.  She took it grudgingly.  Better make a show of drinking it, she thought.  When she leaves, I’ll throw it out the window.

  Humming quietly to herself, the nurse pulled out a bench from under Karen’s bed and sat beside her.

  Hmmm, thought Karen crossly, I’ve heard all about this.  She’ll sit next to me until I have finished the last drop.  So childish!

  Karen knew she was defeated so, with a set face and trembling mouth, she laboriously sipped the contents of the glass.  When she had finished, she insolently thrust the empty glass towards the nurse, who took it and smiled sweetly back at her.

  “Good!” she said with a toss of her head. “You’ve taken the first step towards your cure.  I’ll sit here quietly and read this magazine, unless, of course, you would like to talk…”

  Karen shook her head.  That was the last thing she wanted to do.  She is now waiting in case I try to bring it up.   Really!  How irritating all this is, she thought.  With her arms clasped behind her head, she lay on her bed and stared at the white ceiling above her.  All was quiet and peaceful in the ward.  The other girls were either reading or knitting.

  She felt angry and confused.  There was nothing wrong with her.  A big fuss was being made about nothing.

  Clang!  Clang!  A noise shattered the quietness of the ward with a kaleidoscope of fragments.  Karen sat up, her mouth agape as she stared at a tea-trolley being wheeled in laden with cups, saucers and, to her horror, a large plate of scones, heaped with jam.

  Ugh!  How can I bear it!  If I have to eat that after only just finishing off a large glass of tonic, I’ll be sick.  At this her mind whirled into a panic and she looked at the nurse.  “Nurse,” she began.

  “Don’t worry, Karen,” the nurse reassured her, “you don’t have to have your tea.”  With that she called out, “Come girls.  All those who are allowed up, come to the table for tea.”

  Karen turned her face away from the revolting sight of all that food.  She lay back on her large continental pillow staring up at a streak of sunlight dancing merrily on the ceiling.   Listlessly, she looked down at her pretty quilt.  It was in a pink and white check scattered with tiny little flowers.  Fancy coming to a hospital and having to bring your own bedding!  Oh well, she thought, at least the ward looks colourful.  Not like a hospital at all.  But we have to do our own washing and ironing!  At home, Maria did all that!  Karen hung her head dejectedly.  How long am I going to be able to put up with this place?

  “Hello!” said a voice next to her.  “You’re new!”

  Karen looked up to see a girl hardly five feet tall, about eighteen or nineteen years old, with sparkling blue eyes.  Her blonde hair was tightly drawn back into a ponytail, and her smile was warm.  Karen looked at her eager face, but said nothing.

  “My name’s Agatha, Aggie for short,” the voice went on. “What time did you arrive this morning?”

  Karen scowled.  “I came in at nine o’clock.  Are you a nurse?”

  “No, I’m a patient.  I’ve had a weekend out and may be going home today for good.  I’m so thrilled.”  Aggie clapped her hands to her face and twirled around on her toes.  She looked so fragile and delicate.

  “How long have you been here?” Karen was interested to know.

  “Just on three months,” Aggie began.

  “Three months!” wailed Karen.  “Why so long?”

  “It all depends on your progress.  Do you see that dark-haired girl, the one with the very long hair?  She’s been here six months in all.  She went home and within a month was back again.”

  Disconsolately Karen pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead.  She leaned back on her pillow and closed her eyes.  Aggie looked at her nervously and then, pursing her lips determinedly as though dismissing a negative thought, said, “When I came, I was antagonistic and rebelled against all help. I thought everyone was against me and that I had been put in this place for spite.  I had a hard lesson to learn.”  She smiled encouragingly.

  Karen opened her eyes and sat up.  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her eyes flashing defiantly.

  “Because you’re new and may need help and advice from someone who has gone through it all,” Aggie told her, looking at her hopefully.

  “Don’t judge me by your actions.  There’s nothing wrong with me.  I shouldn’t be here at all.  Someone has made a mistake.  You…you…oh, go away and mind your own business,” Karen said crossly, burying her head in her pillow.

  For amoment Aggie simply stood and stared, looking both curious and amazed.  “You poor thing,” she said sympathetically, recognising that she had touched a sensitive spot.  “Now I can see what a hard time I must have given everyone when I first arrived.”  She touched Karen’s shoulder gently and whispered, “Don’t fight this thing.  Trust this place because they are on your side.” With that, Aggie walked to the table where the girls were having tea and was greeted affectionately.  She sat down on one of the hard chairs that stood on both sides of the table.

  “How did the weekend go, Aggie?” asked the dark-haired girl.

  “Lovely, thanks,”Aggie replied.  Then, with cheeks flaming, she admitted excitedly, “Oh girls, I may be leaving later on today for good.”

  “How wonderful for you, Aggie,” they chorused happily.

  “I promise to come and see you again one day,” Aggie said, her face alight.  “You have my telephone number and if you need a chat at any time don’t hesitate to call me. Promise….”

  They nodded.  Aggie had been such an inspiration to them all.  They were going to miss her.

  “Will you write to us, Aggie?  You….” Began a young fair-haired girl.

  “Please, Lee-Ann, Aggie will be too busy.  A ballerina doesn’t have much time to spare once she’s on tour,” said the dark-haired girl.

  “Gertie, don’t be too hard on Lee-Ann.  Of course I’ll write.  I won’t ever be too busy to keep in contact with my friends.”   Aggie clapped her hands with delight.  “I’ll miss you all.  But,” she laughed, “I had better not jump the gun.  I’ve not officially been told I can go yet.”

  At that moment Matron came into the ward.  She looked around before noticing Aggie at the table.  “Aggie, my dear, you may pack your things.  Your mom will be here in half an hour to collect you.”

  “Wheeee…How wonderful!”  shouted Aggie.

  Matron laughed and shook her head as she walked out.

  There was a buzz of excitement in the ward.  Karen lifted her head from the pillow and watched curiously.  The girls gathered around Aggie’s bed to help her pack.  It didn’t take long, and with the maid, Veronica, carrying her suitcase, Aggie called cheerfully as she walked out through the door.  “All the best, girls.  I hope you’ll soon be doing what I’m doing now.” 

  “All the best to you too, Aggie,” they called.

  Karen’s throat felt tight with unhappiness.  She was tense and afraid.  She began to feel depressed.  Tea was over and the girls had once again settled down on their beds.  She sat fiddling with her hair, twisting it round and round her finger.  Suddenly a telephone rang out sharply.  Karen brightened immediately.  A telephone in the ward!

  “Answer the phone, Lee-Ann,” called Gertie from the bed in the far corner.  “It’s usually for you anyway.”

  The small ash blonde girl with a pathetic little heart-shaped face went to answer the telephone.  What tatty hair, thought Karen.  It looks like straw.

  “The call’s for you, Gertie.  I think it’s your mom,”called Lee-Ann.

  Gertie, her face flushed, raced to answer the telephone.  “Hello, Mom,” she giggled.  “Yes….fine…and you…and Pinkie?”

  Karen turned her head away and shuddered.  All this hilarity was getting on her nerves.  I wish they could all go home, she thought.  There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with them.

  The ward settled down again after the phone call.  Karen lay listlessly on the bed.  Lee-Ann was in the bed next to hers, then Gerrie next to the wall.  On the opposite side of her was Tarryn, a quiet, elfin-faced girl with short curly black hair: then came Aggie’s vacant bed, and next to that was Cheryl, the talkative one.  She was a friendly girl with straight brown hair.  She was not very pretty but she had a deep dimple in the centre of each cheek.  Thank goodness she’s far away from me, Karen thought, relieved.  I couldn’t put up with her constant chatter.

  Sleep finally dropped a curtain over Karen’s distrubed mind and she drifted away.  She was rudely awakened by the sound of the meal trolly.

  “Oh,” she groaned.  “Food again.  Is food to take over my life?”

  Veronica, the maid, who was round and fat stood beside her.  “Come, sit up now. Some food for you to eat.”

  Karen looked into her plump face creased with smiles showing two rows of sparkling teeth, and shuddered.  As she lifted the cover from her plate she grimaced with distaste.  Staring back at her was a small piece of fish, a tiny boiled potato and some mixed vegetables.  Next to the plate was an apple.

  The sister and two junior nurses walked into the ward and sat down at the table where the girls were eating. With an effort to conceal her agitation and with mouth tightened in disgust, Karen picked at the food in her plate with trembling hands.  Slowly, she put a piece of fish into her mouth and swallowed it without chewing. Looking up, her eyes met those of the sister, who gave her a nod of satisfaction. Karen felt a blush rise to her cheeks and was tempted to throw the tray of food off the bed, but the thought of going on the drip was too much for her.  So, eating without being aware of taste, she finally set aside the tray with a feeling of relief.  She was annoyed when the sister deliberately came to her to see how much she had eaten.

  “Good girl,” she said.  “Now you can relax and catch up on some sleep.”

   Sleep again, thought Karen, feeling mutinous.  She was tempted to tell the nurse a thing or two, but, instead, lay on her side and ignored her.  Suddenly she was overcome with an acute feeling of guilt.  Her resolve had weakened.  She had eaten and in so doing, had lost the last vestige of her freedom!

  Gradually, the feeling lessened as she reminded herself that the blame lay not with her but with her parents and Doctor Bernstein for committing her to the hospital.  It also lay with the nurse for insisting that she eat the food.  If she had not eaten she would have been placed on the drip. She had seen pictures of people lying in hospital with a maze of tubes protuding from their arms and that was the last thing in the world she would allow to happen to her.  It would have been the final insult.