‘I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Maggie, I just want to try to help you and to do that I –’

‘I tried to kill myself,’ I say, raising my voice. ‘Okay? That’s why they sent me to that place.’

It comes out in a rush. It’s almost a relief to say it, after all this time.

Julia looks at me for a moment without speaking. Then she nods her head and turns to the computer.

‘I’m sorry to have to pry,’ she says as she begins to type. ‘But any information you can give me at this stage really will help me come up with an appropriate care plan.’

She stops typing then looks up at me as if waiting for me to speak but I have no words. I feel like I’ve just been cut open and I’m sitting here, raw and exposed.

‘You suffered from an eating disorder,’ she says, her eyes fixed on me. ‘For over ten years I believe.’

I nod my head. ‘That’s right,’ I say shamefully. ‘But that was a long time ago. I got better.’

‘It was anorexia nervosa, yes?’

‘Yes,’ I say, willing her to stop. ‘Look, I don’t want to talk about that. It’s in my past. I told you, I got better.’

‘I know this is difficult, Maggie, but if I’m to help you then I do need to know as much as possible about your background.’ She smiles and it puts me at ease. That feeling I had when she brought me home yesterday returns. This is a good person. I can trust her.

‘The anorexia started before I went into the unit,’ I tell her. ‘When I tried to kill myself and it didn’t work, well, I decided I’d starve instead. My mum couldn’t cope with it so she –’ A lump lodges itself in my throat. ‘I’m sorry, this is just … it’s really hard.’

‘I understand,’ says Julia softly. ‘And you’ve done really well to tell me this much. Before we go on I’d just like to ask you a couple more questions, nothing too probing, I promise. Is that okay?’

I nod.

‘We talked just then about the anorexia and where you think it stemmed from,’ she says, leaning back slightly in her chair. ‘Now in a lot of cases it can come about due to a traumatic event and I’m wondering …’

‘If you’re asking whether I’ve gone anorexic again, the answer’s no,’ I say, cutting her off. ‘Sure, I don’t feel like eating at the moment because my stomach is so twisted with sadness but … it’s a different feeling.’

‘What do you mean?’