Saskia swallowed the nausea down, and tried to quell the flickering fire of panic in her belly.
Yes, but the disordered thinking has been coming back,the panicking side of her brain retorted to the rationalising side.The obsession with calories, how much I’ve ingested versus how much I’ve burnt. That was the first sign of something being wrong before. I’ve worked so hard to retrain my thought processes – it can’t all be undone now!
Then go and eat something,the other side of her brain responded.Kivi won’t mind if you tell her you forgot to eat dinner. Which is true.
But her body remained stubbornly curled up on the bed.
Even on her worst days, she hadn’t ever gone a whole day without food. But today was looking different. She’d slept through breakfast, worked through lunch, and chatted through dinner. And even last night, she’d only eaten half of her foodbecause of that argument with Kivi. For the fifth time, Saskia checked that her alarm was set. She’d have to have something substantial for breakfast tomorrow. It was too late in the day to eat now.Digestion and calorie processing slows down in the evening, after all- oh, fuck, stop it, Saskia.
It wasn’t like she was inexperienced in ignoring hunger pangs. In fact, it had always been a sort of challenge to herself:‘You can be hungrier than this. You’ve not earned your food yet.’And, indeed, she had spent the last two hours buried in her work. The low battery status on her laptop confirmed it. And while it charged quietly in the corner, Saskia knew she should have been recharging herself. Refuelling. But Kiviwouldjudge. Saskia had a sneaky feeling that she already suspected something.
There was tea and coffee downstairs. Saskia had used up all the tea bags in her room, and forgotten to ask Kivi for some more. She decided to go downstairs and make herself a cup of tea in the lounge. That would besomethingin her stomach, at least. Tide her over until the morning.
It took her a moment to stand up. The head-rush was unpleasant, but probably a sign that her iron levels were dipping low. Anaemia had been an on-and-off companion over the years. Once the pain in her head receded, she made her way out of her bedroom and down the corridor to the stairs.
Halfway down, the head-rush returned, and she had to grip onto the banister for balance.You can’t collapse here. Just get to the bottom of the stairs and then you can sit down.Her ears began to ring. Her vision began to go staticky.Just a few more steps. Just a few…
“Oh my God!”
“Is she all right?”
“What happened?”
“She fell down the stairs!”
Voices clamoured above her head. She was aware of being on her back, the blurry blobs of people moving around her. She tried to get up, tried to laugh it off, but her muscles wouldn’t do her bidding. Someone touched her arm. Trying to feel for a pulse?That’s ridiculous. You can see I’m not dead, you idiot.
Then, miracle of miracles, Kivi’s voice. Cutting through the fog – loud, clear, and confident.
“Okay, everyone, let’s have some space here. Let’s give the lady some space.”
“I’m a trained first-aider,” she heard another voice say. “We need to get her some-”
“I know what to do,” Kivi said firmly. “I am also a first-aider. But we’re not doing her any good by crowding her, so please, everyone take a step back.”
Saskia could see the blobs move back obediently. Just one remained, and she blinked frantically until her eyes focused again and she could see Kivi’s concerned face peering down at her.
“Miss Jepps, please get a glass of water from the lounge,” she said to one blob – which she now realised were guests. “And Mr Cartwright, please bring us a chair from the dining room.” Saskia moved her eyes to the left, and saw two more people, who she recognised from delivering them their dinner earlier in the evening. They wore matching concerned expressions, and Saskia felt her insides cringe with embarrassment.
“Saskia, can you hear me?” Kivi asked, and Saskia nodded. The small movement of her head made it spin again, and she closed her eyes for a second before forcing them back open again. The sound of a chair being dragged along the floor made her earsresume ringing, and she was very glad when it stopped right in front of her. “Saskia, do you have any pain?”
Kivi ran through a few diagnostic tests, presumably to check that nothing was broken, then lifted Saskia’s legs onto the chair. In that position, legs raised above her head, Saskia’s awareness began to gradually return to her. The floor was hard beneath her back, and her neck hurt from the position she lay in, but she assessed the rest of her body and nothing seemed to be badly injured. There were several strangers around her. Other guests. They were all looking at her. She pursed her lips, and moved her head to the right so that she couldn’t see them.
“Can you all just go?” she managed in a kitten-weak voice. She felt her face flush – even better.
“I’ve got it from here, everyone,” Kivi said. “Thank you for all your help.”
“Do you need anything else?” One of them seemed reluctant to leave. Probably just being helpful, but Saskia gritted her teeth at the intrusiveness.
“Nope, we’ll be fine.” Kivi was chirpy but firm. “Thank you.”
The room seemed to grow quieter as they left. Kivi shut the door to the guest lounge, and then returned to kneel again next to Saskia’s side.
“Do you remember what happened?” she asked quietly.
“I just wanted a cup of tea, then my legs went out from under me.”
“Do you remember where you were on the stairs when you fell?”
