I glowered at her. ‘When you get the truth from your son, I might be able to help. Until then, don’t come back.’ I flung open the front door then pulled Mrs Moreton out of the chair by the arm and directed her towards the exit. The screams of ‘liar’ continued for at least ten minutes outside on the landing and I had to turn up my music to drown out the noise.

Mrs Moreton’s visit acted as a catalyst to spur me into action. A full confession from Oliver about what he’d done to me might be the one chance of salvation; both for him and for me.

75

Amber

The psychiatrist told me I was suffering from severe depression. The unnatural highs followed by abysmal lows formed part of my condition.

However, that night at the cinema I knew my hysterical happiness had nothing at all to do with the bipolar diagnosis. Mitch had come back. After he phoned out of the blue, shortly after Christmas, I stopped the knife cutting and began to wean myself off the bulimic tendencies. This was until after that fateful night in February.

We’d never been one of those hand-holding couples who displayed affection in public. Our relationship went deeper; it was built on friendship and respect. That was my take on it anyway. Whenever Mitch braced against my advances, I told myself he needed time, that he wasn’t ready to settle down.

Gone with the Wind seemed an odd film choice for an action movie buff. James Bond or Mission Impossible would have been a more obvious choices. For my part, I was thrilled when he suggested I join him. It didn’t matter what was on the screen and I snuggled up close while the action unfolded.

At the end of the film, as the credits rolled and the bright lights dampened the short-lived romance, Mitch suggested we grab a bite to eat. The screen had gone blank and we were ushered smartly up the aisle.

‘Yes please. I’m starving,’ I lied. Denials of secret eating battles had become second nature. Tonight I wouldn’t move portions from side to side. Tonight I’d behave, clean my plate. I promised myself that I’d stoically swallow without hesitation. This was to be a perfect evening and the start of a future together.

I saw Arthur before he saw me. He was standing on his own near the exit, leaning against a vending machine. My stomach knotted when I recognised the familiar immobile figure. His eyes darted from left to right but his hands were invisible, stuffed deep inside his jacket pockets.

‘I need to pop to the ladies before we go,’ I whispered to Mitch.

I scurried off to the toilets, praying that I could delay long enough for Arthur to have disappeared before I returned.