Girls Under Pressure Read Online Free PDF

even going to be bringing out her own label, Sara Star. She showed me the logo, two big
S
s in shocking pink. Oh, Ellie, she’s really made it big now. She kept politely asking me what I’m doing and I had to say I haven’t even got a job at the moment.”
    “You’ve got Eggs to look after.”
    “Yes, but it’s not like he’s a baby.”
    “And Dad.”
    “OK, he
is
a baby,” says Anna, smiling at last. “But even so . . . I just feel . . . Anyway, I’m going to try even harder to find some work, even if it’s just part-time. And I’m going to do something with my stupid hair.
And
I’m going to go on a diet.”
    “I’m going on a diet too,” I say.
    “Oh, Ellie. Look, you’re still a growing girl.”
    “Exactly. Growing fatter and fatter.”
    “Well, we’ll see when you’re better. I do hope you haven’t got gastric flu. It sounded as if you were being so terribly sick.”
    “I’m fine now. Really. I’m going back to bed.”
    “Ellie? You’re acting sort of funny.” Anna looks at me worriedly. “You would tell me if . . . if there was anything really wrong, wouldn’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    Well, no. I can’t tell Anna my throat is raw and my stomach still heaving because I’ve eaten half the food in the cupboard and then practically clawed it out of my insides with my own hand. What sort of mad revolting loony would she take me for?
    I go back to bed and pull the covers right over my head. I remember this game I played when I was little, after my mum died. I’d kid myself that when it was morning I’d wake up in a different parallel life and Mum would be sitting on the end of the bed smiling at me. It was years before I gave up on that game. But now I catch myself playing a new version. No Mum. No Ellie, either. Not the old one. I’ll wake up and I’ll get out of bed and pull off my nightie and then I’ll peel off all my extra pounds too and there I’ll be, new little skinny Ellie.
    The old huge fat Ellie sleeps late and slouches to the bathroom in the morning. I can smell faint eggy toasty smells. Oh, God. I hope they’ve all finished eating when I come down.
    Dad is in his third-coffee-and-delve-into-the- biscuit-tin stage. Eggs is busy making some kind of collage with macaroni and what’s left of the raisins. I can’t look at them without feeling sick.
    “Toast, Ellie?” says Anna.
    “No, thanks. Just coffee. Black,” I say quickly.
    “Look at my lovely picture, Ellie,
look,
” says Eggs.
    “You
still
not well, chum? Anna said you were horribly sick in the night,” says Dad.
    “I’m OK. I just don’t fancy anything to eat yet.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Mmm. Maybe I’ll go back to bed in a bit, OK?” It’ll be easier avoiding food upstairs. And if I can sleep I won’t be feeling so starving hungry all the time.
    “Well, we were planning on eating out at lunchtime and then maybe having a little jaunt somewhere,” says Dad.
    “To see some pictures, Dad says,” says Eggs. “Look at
my
picture, Ellie. See what it is?”
    “Yes, macaroni and raisins, very fetching,” I say. “You lot go out. That’s fine with me. I’ll just flop around.”
    “But I haven’t got any food in for your lunch, Ellie,” says Anna. “I missed out on the big Saturday shop because I was seeing Sara.”
    “I’ll cook myself some eggs or something. It’s OK,” I say.
    “It’s a
lady,
Ellie, can’t you see? The macaroni is all her
curls,
and the raisins are her eyes and her nose and her smiley mouth, see.”
    “Well, she’s got a dirty nose and very black teeth and she’s having a seriously bad hair day,” I say.
    “Don’t be mean to him,” says Dad, giving me a little nudge. “Come out with us, eh? You’ll feel better for a bit of fresh air.”
    “No, thanks.”
    Nadine rings around twelve, pained that I haven’t phoned her back. She wants to come round this afternoon and she’s still burbling about her hair and her makeup and her clothes in case she gets selected as