‘Bea,’ Elaine says, coming into view on the corridor. She cups her face with her hands upon seeing me. ‘I was just coming to check on you.’
‘Where’s Ellie?’
Elaine lowers her hands and although her eyes are narrow and full of concern she is smiling. ‘She’s fine. She’s downstairs with Órlaith.’
The relief is intense and it’s followed by my legs attempting to crumple from under me.
‘Okay, okay,’ Elaine says, hurrying to help me. She tucks her hip next to mine and drapes my arm round her shoulder. ‘Back to bed, young lady.’
Elaine tucks me into bed the way I’ve watched her settle in the elderly patients upstairs for years. I’m warm and cosy and tired. A type of tiredness that I’ve never felt before. It’s as if my bones are hollow and have no strength. My head is heavy against the soft, fluffed pillow and I am desperate for sleep. Maybe I could catch a few minutes if Ellie is content downstairs with Órlaith. I forgot how good an actual bed feels. Not a friend’s two-seater couch where my legs don’t fit, or a storage room floor crammed between buckets and mops, but a real bed. With a spongy mattress, and soft blankets and feathery pillows. A place to stretch out flat and drift off. It’s glorious, really.
‘Ellie,’ I say, again, my eyes closing.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and a whisper of ‘Shh, rest now.’
I jolt upright, startled and once again forgetting where I am.
‘Ellie,’ I call out, my throat dry and raspy. ‘How long was I asleep?’ I’m not sure who I’m asking. The woman in the bed across from me maybe, but when my vision starts to focus I can see she is sleeping.
Elaine is back and she’s smiling still, but it’s tense and I can tell something I don’t want to hear is coming. I recognise her expression, a wiry smile and pinched brow. It’s usually followed by a request to clean up vomit or unblock a toilet.
But her tone is soft and caring as she walks towards my bed and says, ‘Ah, you’re awake.’
‘Ellie,’ I croak out.
‘Still fine. She’s just fine. Órlaith had to go home, so she’s been hanging out with me upstairs.’
I’m not sure what time it is, but I know Elaine’s shift would have been over long ago.
‘Thank you,’ I try to say, but sound fails to come out as my emotions take over.
‘We’ve had a great time. She was telling me all about her fun day in crèche.’
I hold my breath, waiting for Elaine to go on. I can sense something huge coming and I am terrified Ellie told her we’ve been sleeping in the storage room. I think I’m going to be sick.
‘But I’m afraid I really do need to get home,’ Elaine goes on. ‘My cats have been in all day, and?—’
‘Yes. Yes of course,’ I say, feeling awful that I’ve held her up so long already. I sit up, ready to stand.
Elaine scoffs. ‘What are you doing?’
I stare at her blankly, not entirely sure what she’s asking when the answer is obvious.
‘You can’t go home, Bea,’ she says.
‘But Ellie,’ I say.
Elaine sighs and shakes her head. ‘We need to get to the bottom of what happened to you.’
‘I… I… I’m just tired.’
‘When was the last time you ate?’ she asks, becoming serious. ‘The doctors are worried your BMI isn’t where it should be, and I’ve never seen you in the canteen.’
I open my mouth but no sound comes out.
‘Are you eating properly, Bea? I know there’s all sorts of pressure on young women to be stick thin these days, but?—’
‘I’m just tired,’ I snap, firmly shutting this conversation down, and Elaine knows it.