The Woman Who Went to Bed for a Year Read Free

do. I’m a weight loss expert. I’ll teach
you how to be sick after every meal.’
    ‘I don’t want to be bulimic.’
    ‘It was good enough for Lily Allen.’
    ‘I hate being sick.’
    ‘Isn’t it worth it to be thin? Remember the saying: “You
can’t be too rich or too thin.”’
    ‘Who said that?’
    ‘I think it was Winnie Mandela.’
    Poppy followed Brianne to her room, still in her
underwear. They met Brian Junior in the corridor as he was locking the door to
his room. He stared at Poppy and she stared back. He was the most beautiful man
she had ever seen. She threw her arms above her head and affected a glamour
girl pose, hoping that Brian Junior would admire her C cup breasts.
    He said under his breath, but loud enough to be
heard, ‘Gross.’
    Poppy said, ‘Gross? It would be really useful to me
if you would elaborate. I need to know which bits of me are particularly
repellent.’
    Brian Junior shifted uncomfortably.
    Poppy walked up and down past him, did a twirl and
rested one hand on a bony hip. She then looked at him expectantly but he did
not speak. Instead, he unlocked the door to his room and went back inside.
    Poppy said, ‘He’s a baby. A rude, mind-blowingly awesome-looking
baby.’
    Brianne said, ‘We’re both seventeen. We took our A
levels early.’
    ‘I would have taken mine early but I had a personal
tragedy…’ Poppy paused, waiting for Brianne to ask about the nature of the
tragedy. When Brianne remained silent, she said, ‘I can’t talk about it. I
still managed to get four A*s. Oxbridge wanted me. I went for an interview but
quite honestly I couldn’t live and study somewhere so old-fashioned.’
    Brianne asked, Where was your interview — Oxford or
Cambridge?’
    Poppy said, ‘Do you have auditory defects? I told you,
I was interviewed in Oxbridge.’
    ‘And you were offered a place to study at Oxbridge University?’ Brianne checked, ‘Remind me, where is Oxbridge?’
    Poppy mumbled, ‘It’s in the middle of the country, ‘and
went out.
    Brianne and Brian Junior had been interviewed at
Cambridge University, and both of them had been offered a place. The Beaver
twins’ small fame had gone before them. At Trinity College they were given what
looked like an impossibly difficult maths problem to solve. Brian Junior went
to a separate room with an invigilator. When they each put down their pencil
after fifty-five minutes of frenzied workings-out on the A4 paper supplied, the
chair of the interviewing panel read their workings as if they were a chapter
of a racy novel. Brianne had meticulously, if unimaginatively, worked her way
straight to the solution. Brian Junior had reached it by a more mysterious
path. The panel declined to ask the twins about hobbies or pastimes. It was
easy to tell that they did nothing outside of their chosen field.
    After the twins had turned the offer down, Brianne
explained that she and her brother would follow the famous professor of
mathematics Lenya Nikitanova to Leeds.
    ‘Ah, Leeds,’ said the chairperson. ‘It has a remarkable
mathematical faculty, world class. We tried to tempt the lovely Nikitanova here
by offering her disgracefully extravagant inducements, but she emailed that she
preferred to teach the children of the workers — an expression I have not
heard since Brezhnev was in office — and was taking up the post of lecturer at
Leeds University! Typically quixotic of her!’
    Now, in Sentinel Towers student residence, Brianne
said, ‘I’d sooner try the dress on in private. I’m shy about my body.’
    Poppy said, ‘No, I’m coming in with you. I can help
you.’
    Brianne felt suffocated by Poppy. She did not want
to let her inside her room. She did not want her as a friend but, despite her
feelings, she unlocked the door and let Poppy inside.
    Brianne’s suitcase was open on the narrow bed. Poppy
immediately began to unpack and put Brianne’s clothes and shoes away in the
wardrobe. Brianne sat helplessly on the end of