Cathy Kelly 6-Book Collection: Someone Like You, What She Wants, Just Between Us, Best of Friends, Always and Forever, Past Secrets

‘Er yes, I did,’ she stuttered.

‘We’re in trouble, Abby,’ announced Mel. ‘What have we done now, Mum?’

Leonie drove down the hill in a quandary. At the bottom, she braked a little too late and had to jam her foot to the floor to bring the car to a halt at the stop sign. How did she say it? Should she wait until they were at home, or should she only say it to Abby?

‘Spill the beans, Mum,’ said Mel, exasperated and keen to find out if whatever misdemeanour would result in her not being allowed out all weekend.

‘I found some laxatives in your room today, beside Abby’s bed.’ Bluntly was the only way to say it. Leonie looked at Abby again in the mirror.

Abby’s face closed over. She said nothing.

‘I wasn’t snooping,’ Leonie said. ‘I was changing the sheets and I found a pack beside your bed, Abby.’

‘So?’ Abby said sullenly.

‘I know I shouldn’t have, but I looked in your blue case and I found all the others,’ Leonie added.

‘You what! You had no right to look in my private things!’ screeched Abby. ‘How would you like it if someone did that to you? They’re my things and I’m entitled to my privacy.’

‘I know, love,’ said Leonie, trying to placate her, ‘but I’m worried about you. I wasn’t looking for diaries or anything. I needed to see if you’d taken more of those awful things. They’re so bad for you,’ she protested.

‘It’s my business if they are or not!’ yelled Abby. ‘I hope you didn’t read my diary.’

‘Of course I didn’t, I didn’t even see a diary. But you’re my business, Abby,’ said her mother heatedly, ‘that makes it my business. I have a right to know what you’re doing because I’m your mother and I want to look after you. Taking laxatives is bad for you, it’s stupid. You’re lovely, darling, you don’t need to change how you look. There are other ways to be slim, if that’s what you want,’ she said pleadingly.

‘Oh yeah, and you’d know about that, would you?’ snarled Abby with vicious accuracy.

Even Mel, who liked rows and was never fazed by rudeness, gasped.

Leonie found herself mouthing helplessly like a goldfish out of water.

‘She didn’t mean that, Mum,’ Mel said.

‘I did!’ howled Abby.

It was Leonie’s turn to howl. ‘How could you say something so nasty?’ she asked. ‘Is that what you really think of me?’

Abby didn’t answer.

They turned into the drive and as soon as the car had stopped, Abby leapt out and rushed into the cottage. Mel ran after her. Feeling weary, Leonie got out and followed them.

‘Abby, we have to talk,’ she said loudly, standing outside the girls’ bedroom. There were scuffling noises and whispering. Leonie didn’t want to barge in but it looked as though she might have to. ‘Abby!’ she called again. ‘We have to talk.’

Cheeks flushed and eyes suspiciously bright, Abby emerged after a moment, looking less upset. No doubt she’s been checking to see that her diary was there, unopened. Leonie had never even noticed a diary when she’d been looking earlier. She’d been too obsessed to notice anything but the laxative packets. Abby appeared to have calmed down a little bit.

‘Tell me how long this has been going on, Abby. Be honest,’ Leonie commanded her.

Abby didn’t meet her eyes. Shuffling from foot to foot, she stood outside her bedroom door still in her school uniform. ‘Not long,’ she said. ‘I read about them but they didn’t work, so there! Those were old packets you saw.’

‘Please tell me that you won’t do it again,’ Leonie begged. ‘If you want, we could get counselling for you. I know there are eating-disorder groups…’

‘I don’t have an eating disorder!’ snapped Abby. ‘I was just experimenting, right. I don’t have to explain everything to you, you know. I’m not a child,’ she said, her tone scathing.

‘I know, love,’ Leonie said weakly. She tried to touch Abby but the girl jerked away from her. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Abby. I don’t want to treat you like a child, but what you’ve been doing is dangerous and I’m your mother. It’s my job to take care of you. I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I need to know that you won’t take laxatives again, and I need to know if you’ve done anything else…’ Her voice failed her briefly. ‘…If you’ve been making yourself sick.’

‘I haven’t done anything else,’ Abby answered sullenly. ‘Don’t you believe me?’ she hissed.

Leonie stared at her for a long time. ‘If you promise you’re telling me the truth, then yes, I believe you. But if you have, we can get over it, together, as a family.’ Her eyes were wet with tears. She wanted to hug Abby, the way she’d done when the twins were toddlers. Abby had been so affectionate, a scrap of a thing who loved cuddles and kisses. ‘I can get the number of the eating-disorder group and we can deal with this problem together.’

Abby’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve got the answer,’ she snapped. ‘Listen, Mom, I don’t want to be here, I could go and live with Fliss and Dad. They’d love to have me, and I bet I wouldn’t be so much of a problem for them,’ she said, eyes like knives.

Leonie stared at her, hurting so bad she could barely think straight. Abby was speaking as if she was already in America. Calling her ‘Mom’ instead of Mum the way she’d always said it. And she hadn’t said she’d go to her father and Fliss – it had been the other way round. Fliss first, then Ray. He wasn’t the lure that drew her to America, it was the slim, elegant, charming Fliss. Leonie had never cared that the beautiful American woman had married her ex-husband. They’d been apart for so long, Fliss was welcome to him. But she would die if Fliss took her children away.

‘You’re not a problem, Abby,’ she said brokenly. ‘I love you, I couldn’t bear it if you went to live somewhere else. I just want what’s best for you, don’t you understand?’

‘Leave me alone,’ Abby said. ‘That’s what’s best for me.’

She whirled round and went back into her room, slamming the door so hard that the surrounds shook.

Leonie prepared dinner on automatic pilot, her mind in turmoil as she figured out what to do. She felt too shattered to phone her mother or Ray, even though she knew she needed moral support. She wanted some time alone to think about Abby’s behaviour.

Abby emerged from the room that evening, white-faced and red-eyed. Leonie knew instinctively that she was sorry for all the things she’d said. Leaving the vegetables she’d been straining, she crossed the kitchen and pulled her daughter into her arms.

‘Oh, Mum,’ sobbed Abby, crumpling against her mother’s body, ‘I’m so sorry. I hate myself for what I said to you. I love you so much, I was upset. Please believe me.’

‘Hush, hush,’ said Leonie softly, stroking Abby’s hair. ‘I love you too, Abby. I want to help you. Will you let me? Please don’t push me away.’ She held Abby’s face in her hands and looked at her questioningly. ‘Will you promise me not to touch laxatives again, please?’

Abby nodded mutely, her eyes brimming. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

Leonie hugged her again. ‘It’s all right, darling, we’ll get through it together. It’s all right.’

Of course, it wasn’t all right. At every meal, Leonie tried her best to keep her eyes away from Abby’s plate but she was inexorably drawn to it, watching anxiously as every mouthful was forked up, and straining her ears each time Abby went near the bathroom, listening for signs of vomiting.

‘Stop watching me,’ hissed Abby on Saturday evening as she picked at her dinner.

Tension loomed over the entire weekend. Amazingly, Danny, who was working flat-out on a project, didn’t seem to notice. Abby consistently avoided her mother so that Leonie was forced to engineer a moment alone to ask how she was feeling.

‘Fine,’ exploded Abby. ‘I told you I’m not doing it any more, so can’t you just accept that?’

On Monday morning, the twins left for school and Leonie rang the surgery to say she’d be in late. She had a phone call to make.

The woman on the eating disorder helpline was called Brenda and had heard it all before. Her soft, friendly voice and non-judgemental manner were a balm to Leonie’s bruised soul. She judged herself badly for not noticing Abby’s problem, therefore she expected everyone else to judge her badly too.

But Brenda swept aside the idea of blame or guilt: ‘It’s great that you finally know how Abby feels,’ she said once she’d been told the story. ‘You can help. Before, you couldn’t. Surely that’s positive.’

‘I suppose,’ Leonie said numbly.

‘Trust is an important part of how you cope from now on,’ Brenda explained in her kind, matter-of-fact manner. ‘There’s no use you watching over Abby like a hawk, forcing her to eat up her dinner or insisting she has large portions. That’ll just make her more secretive than ever.’