Of course she was in control. Wasn’t that what she’d proved over the months? She thought about how proud she was when she paged through her notebook, looking at how she’d reduced her intake week-by-week. She remembered the jolt of joy she felt when the scale registered a kilogram less at her Monday morning weigh-in. What, if not control, had made that possible? Now all she needed to do was to use that same control to propel her to the dining room to eat a plate of food. Why couldn’t she? What had happened ? Why was she so weak? Who was in control if it wasn’t her? What had taken over?

She sat while the other students filed past her. When the path was empty, she stood and walked to her room, flung herself on her bed and cried. She’d never felt such shame. She was out of control. People were watching, talking and pitying her.

Clare broke up with Will that afternoon and stopped doing things and going places with her friends.

“Too much work,” she said, when they knocked on her door to invite her out.

“Too much work,” she said, when her parents asked her if she’d come home during the holidays.

When she wasn’t in lectures or running, Clare was at the library or working in her room. She finished top of the class in most of her subjects in her first year—fuelled by then on less than five hundred calories and at least two runs per day.

After she’d run, she’d examine her naked body in her mirror. She’d pinch the flesh on her stomach between her fingers and whisper, “Still fat, Clare.” A hundred sit-ups were meted out as punishment.

When she left her room, she’d wear layers, finishing with an oversized man’s shirt, regardless of the weather. Only once again that year did she catch Will’s eye. He was sitting on a low wall in a quad outside the library with his hand on Jenny from Ecology One’s knee. A glance was all it took to reveal the pity he felt for Clare. It was, she thought, as she adjusted the sleeping bag under her neck and looked out at the sheets of rain pouring past the window, the same look Faye had given her when Clare had lashed out at her in the lapa earlier.

Seven

Seven

Derek was unusually laconic as he led the way. Even his response when Diane announced that Faye had returned to Heuningbos Hut was economical.

“I’m not chasing after her to argue, if that’s what she’s hoping for,” he said, gazing at the sky.

Geoffrey removed his cap and rubbed his ears. “Clare will be annoyed. She was clear she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Honestly, all she wants is to be alone when the migraines hit. There’s nothing anyone can do for her.”