The Secret World of Maya Alexander

Chapter 46

As had become customary during this period of her life, Maya arrived for work at the clinic  before the clock of her car announced that it was 09.00 am. She did not manage to reach the clinic door before the town clock announced her tardiness with the sound of its nine bells. She had spent most of her life never being late for anything, as she herself could not stand being kept waiting, yet time had become somewhat of an insignificance that winter. Arriving out of synchrony meant that she had a limited choice of parking spaces and it took her several attempts to reverse into one of the last remaining spots at the farthest end of the car park. 

Looking in the mirror to assist her alignment, she became distracted by a reflection which called from faraway. Without the focus of her mind to help her with the everyday task at hand, her arms misjudged the turn of the wheel and her feet failed to carefully control the speed of the car. Already the day felt an endeavour. Finally judging herself to be sufficiently spaced between the two cars beside her, Maya exhaled as she heard both her phone and the town clock inform her that she was late for work.

She made a conscious effort to avoid the gaze staring at her from the mirror, and instead looked down at what had become a neatly rounded paunch that was barely noticeable beneath the dark loose fitting blouse she had selected to disguise herself. She wondered if the strange shape beneath her skin was just another trick of her mind.

A foreboding throb rose up and snatched her breath as she contemplated this idea. The insides of her tummy began to rumble and poke and prod. Trying to escape her insides, Maya's eyes darted to the desolate declaration that called out from the empty branches of her long forgotten favourite group of Silver Birch trees. Their arms were thin and frail and void of vitality, as they scattered across the darkness of the winter's day, reaching up and out in messy clusters to grasp at grey. Even their silver bark was lost on the darkest day of the year, where as the day broke, the sunlight failed to penetrate the heavy air and cast any reflection of hope upon the sturdy silver trunks. Turned grey by a trick of the light.

Haunted by the feeble sight of the once magnificent trees, Maya shut her eyes tight as she breathed in and tried to take herself to a gentler place. It was freezing inside and out. She had not thought to turn the heating on for warmth during her journey. She could see her body shaking, but she did not feel the chill as it climbed over her skin and into her bones. As she opened her eyes, she noticed the envelope she had received upon her return from work the night before. A solicitor's letter filing for divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour. Hers. She could not remember how it had accompanied her to the car.

The memory of reading it was a haze of words that had danced around on the paper. If there were any instructions hidden within the statement of her failings, she had not processed them.  She had not told anyone in work that her husband had left her for the second time, nor had she ever divulged the first occurance. So she was certain that it was not her intention to share the next installment of her failed marriage that had brought the letter as a passenger with her in the car that morning. Although Maya still felt uncomfortable with lying, keeping things hidden was a gift she had harnessed for as long as she could remember. Not that she would recognise it as such. She might call it keeping herself separate. Safe. Secret.

The assessment and support centre for young people suffering with and recovering from eating disorders was already opening to its patients and their families for the day by the time Maya found herself at the door. Helen, the receptionist was busy greeting families in a gentle matter of fact yet warm manner, making them feel that attending the clinic was like any other everyday task. She put them at ease.

Helen smiled at Maya as she saw her rush through the door. Her head was down so she did not receive or respond to Helen's smile. Helen could not remember the last time Maya had arrived to work early with her warm enquiries about her family or holiday plans. Helen missed Maya. Of course she was still in work most days, but sometimes it felt like she was not really there at all. In the past, she had always thought that when you talked to Maya, you really felt that you had been heard. It was a feeling that had always made for a better day. Helen could not really explain why, but it did. As she watched Maya scurry through the office, she felt a little bit sad for the loss of a woman she thought she once knew.