Dinner

Her packed lunch was the smallest container in the hall. She liked the symmetry of the square sandwiches in one corner and the chocolate biscuit in the other. There were no words passed in the house but the sandwiches screamed.

Cucumber sandwiches. Things were tight but could have been worse.

Jam. That sick feeling before she left school at 3pm.

Out of date crisps and a banana and the best thing to do was to curl up on top of the shoe box in the hall and wrap the coats over her body.

She screamed at the table. She hated to see her father eat. Hated the sounds he made with his mouth. He screamed back. I should eat in the shed. The girl thought yes you should. But instead she was removed from the table and sat in the lounge on her own for ten years. Watching TV and eating mushroom omelettes and packet rice.

The father left the house. The mother stopped eating. Gave the girl sickly cakes which she flushed down the toilet in the dark empty house. The girl knew they were not given in love. They were the things the mother refused to eat because they would make her fat. She gave them to the girl instead. To make her fat and unlovable. The girl no longer had a lunch box. She carried a small amount of food in a plastic bag. Up and down the hill to school.

The mother got cross when the girl tried to make herself dinner. Old lasagne from the freezer which she put in the microwave. The mother didn’t like the smell. Didn’t like the mess. The girl tried to eat it hidden behind the end of her bed. She was so nervous it fell off her fork and onto the floor. The mother shouted. You shouldn’t have food in your bedroom. Think about the starving children. The mother’s shouting made no sense. The girl couldn’t swallow and threw away the food. She doesn’t remember what she ate instead.

The girl left the house and demanded expensive food. A full fridge. It made her upset if there was nothing to eat. She ate everything in the cupboard when no one was looking. First she took it to the new school and ate it in the toilets. Then she stayed in the new house all day with the curtains drawn. It made her sweat to buy food. Everybody will think I am greedy. So she waited for the food to be bought for her. Chocolate spread. Marshmallow. Fruit juice.

The girl went very far away. Every place she went dinner was hard to understand. She lives in a house near the first house now. Many things have happened. She is old. As old as the mother who shouted at her for eating.

The girl does her own shopping. She looks at the food. It makes her dizzy to choose. All the colours on the shelf. Sometimes she chooses disgusting foods because she believes they are what she deserves. She imagines how things will taste. She can enjoy the melt of ice cream on her tongue in the summer and the warmth of hot chocolate in her throat in the winter. She still sits alone. Five o’clock in front of the TV. No ugly noises of other people eating to distract her. But, to forget the mother, she serves herself dinner every day.