The friends had agreed to meet at Gino’s, the pizza restaurant where they’d spent most Friday nights throughout their teenage years. Although Clare hadn’t seen the others since she left, they’d all been in touch regularly during the months Clare and Buhle had been studying in different towns and Maryanne had taken on an internship with an interior decorating company. Her friends were already seated when Clare arrived. Maryanne saw her first. She covered her mouth with her hand and nudged Buhle, who gaped as she recognised her friend. The two girls exchanged a glance as they stood to embrace her. Buhle spoke first.

“My God! Clare! What have you done?”

She hugged her friends briefly and sat down.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. I . . . I lost weight,” she said, suddenly wishing she hadn’t agreed to meet them. She knew her weight loss would surprise them, but she hadn’t anticipated their shock.

Maryanne gawped, speechless.

Buhle leaned forward and took Clare’s hand. “What happened? Why?”

“I’ve been running . . . a lot.”

“Running?”

Maryanne still hadn’t said a word. Clare nodded. Buhle shook her head, her eyes shining.

“No,” she said. “You don’t get that thin from running. No matter how far you go. Have you stopped eating? Altogether?”

Clare looked at her hands. “No, not altogether. It’s just—”

Maryanne leaped up, sending her chair crashing to the floor and ran out of the restaurant. Buhle stood.

“I’ll be back,” she said, following their friend.

She wasn’t. Clare waited but neither Buhle nor Maryanne returned. About twenty minutes after they’d left, her phone pinged with a message from Buhle. “MA’s not well. Have taken her home. Will call tomorrow to reschedule. Sorry. B.”

Buhle phoned the following evening. Clare almost declined the call. Shortly into the conversation, she wished she had. Buhle tried to explain.

“She’s freaked out, Clare.”

“Freaked out?”

She sighed. “My friend, have you seen yourself?”

Clare was silent.

“You were always the one who was so together, who kept me and Maryanne cool, kept us keeping on. It never occurred to us that you were so concerned about your appearance.”

“That’s not—”

“I mean, you always looked great and we imagined that, well, it’s like we didn’t know you and now . . .”

“Now what?”

“Geez, Clare, I don’t know want to say. It’s a shock, what’s happened to you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey. No. I mean, you don’t have to apologise. It’s not like you did this to us on purpose.”

Clare felt cold, despite the fact that it was a warm, windless day. “No.”

“It’s just that it’s a lot to deal with.”