Past and Present II

"Rose? Can I have a word?"

I glance up from where I am taking my coat off to find Lavinia standing behind me. I shrug, "Sure? But aren't we going to be late?"

"It's all right. Antonia can take charge for a few minutes. Come with me."

She steers me into the kitchen, where, to my shock, I see Susan, her elder sister, already sitting at the table. She gestures to me to sit down as Lavinia closes the kitchen door.

"We need to talk to you, Rose."

"What about?"

"You," Lavinia sighs, "Did you really think that a forced smile and fake bright conversation would be enough to distract me from what's happening to you? You're losing weight, week in, week out. That dress was hanging off you last week."

"Well, it's not like I don't eat," I retort, "You know I do. You've seen how much sugar I consume at a meeting."

"I know. But it doesn't seem to be having any effect."

Silencing her sister as she snaps at me, Susan reaches across to take my hand, "Rosie. We only want to help you. If you're having trouble at home or at school that's making you anorexic or bulimic or something, then please. Tell me, tell us, even if you won't tell anyone else. We'll help you through it."

I shake my head, pulling my hand out from under hers, "It's not bulimia. I promise. It's not bulimia."

"Then what is it? Because you're not yourself. Even I know you're not yourself," Lavinia presses, "Patrick must be even more aware of it. Is it to do with something at home?"

"Yes. And if you'd really focussed last week, then you'd know what it was. You wouldn't have to ask."

"What do you mean?"

"That story you were telling, even though I kept begging you not to?"

My voice is harsh, and I know I am being rude, but I can't help it. What right have these girls got to drag me in here and put me through the third degree? I come to Youth Group to get away from my problems, not face them!

Thankfully, Susan's face has cleared, even if Lavinia's has not. "Beth?" she whispers, and I nod.

"Bethany? Look, Rose, I know you miss your sister, but -"

Lavinia is cut off as I suddenly launch myself to my feet. How dare she sit there and tell me she knows how I feel? How dare she? She knows nothing of what I feel! Nothing!

I tell her as much, "Oh shut up, Lavinia! You don't have a clue what you're talking about!"

"Then show us," Susan soothes. I glare at her, then just as instantaneously, change my mind. Let them see! I don't care! Let them know what I deal with on a daily basis! I fling myself towards the sink, scraping my golden hair back as I go.

"You'd better get me some make-up remover," I snap, already running the tap. Though I don't look round, I hear footsteps receding and then it appears at my elbow as if by magic.

Applying it carefully with a few of the cotton buds that I keep in every pocket, I wipe away the scarlet blusher, the inch-thick foundation. Once I am satisfied, I turn to face the Robertson girls.

They gasp at the sight of me. My cheekbones are unhealthily prominent on my gaunt face and the dark mascara on my eyelashes does little to hide the fact that I have bags beneath my eyes. Bags that sink almost as low as my cheekbones.

"This is what happens to me when Beth isn't around," I explain matter-of-factly, "So don't you ever say you know how I feel about losing her to University. Don't you ever say that again."

Then I push past them both to find my make-up and reapply it before the meeting officially starts.