“Ah, Clare, you’ve got to give up on that notion. About your folks and you disappointing them. But, fair enough, I won’t lay the blame for my decision at your door.”

Faye took the girl’s hand. “Can I give you some advice now? I mean, I’ve reached an important point in my life on this trip and I’d like to think that things might change for you too. Can I?”

Clare gave a small nod.

“You spoke about Mark earlier and said how, after you’d been running with him and talking, you felt good. And normal. Well, I thought about it afterwards. About how determined you are to get through your illness on your own. I wondered if the feeling you had with Mark isn’t a clue to how it might be for you if you did accept help. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, what you had with Mark was a kind of therapy, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t respond.

“He encouraged you to speak about yourself and your illness. It made you feel better. Perhaps you were even able to eat more after being with him?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“So maybe, if you think of therapy in terms of what you had with Mark, you might reconsider getting help to get better.”

“But Mark was a friend, not a therapist.”

“Yes, that’s true. So perhaps you’ll consider another related angle?”

Faye glanced at Clare. Her eyes were closed.

“Shall I stop talking? Is it too much?”

“No,” whispered the girl. “It’s okay. Don’t stop.”

“Okay. The other angle; don’t give up on your friendship with Mark. It’s not only that he allows you to talk, but he also takes you out of yourself. You said he makes you laugh. You look forward to being with him. I don’t know much about your illness, but I do know that, like other similar illnesses, it makes the sufferer very insular, inward-looking. When you care about someone else, that person crowds out some of those thoughts. Thoughts about others take up time and space and energy. Your own fears and worries have to make way. And sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”

She looked at Clare again. She hadn’t opened her eyes. Had the talking tired her out completely? Faye was silent until she felt Clare’s hand move under hers as if to say, “Go on.”

“But maybe you came to that realisation yourself already?” said Faye. “That’s what you mean about not wanting to be alone anymore, isn’t it?”

“Yes. If I can . . . when I can . . . I’ll call Mark. He’s in Durban now, but still—”

Faye swallowed. There was lump in her throat.