Dr Yesufu gave Maisie a jolly smile but she didn’t return it. She sat moodily in the chair next to her mother and folded her arms.

There was a photograph on the desk of Dr Yesufu’s family. His wife wore traditional African dress with a brightly coloured turban, and his children, a boy and a girl, both quite a bit younger than Maisie, wore Western clothes.

She imagined he was a good father who loved his wife and his well-behaved children. She’d bet he would never leave them for a new life with another family.

Her mother began to speak, and although Maisie gave every impression she wasn’t bothered, she tuned in with interest.

‘I’ve been concerned because Maisie has lost a lot of weight in a short time, Doctor. When I ask her about it, she denies that she’s not eating.’

‘Ah, I see. We must begin with first things first.’ Dr Yesufu stood up, his ebony skin glowing under the fluorescent strip light. ‘Come over here, Maisie. I can take your weight and height measurements so we know what we are dealing with.’

She slipped off her shoes and stood on the antiquated-looking column scales. Then she stood against the wall against a height chart.

Dr Yesufu grunted to himself a couple of times and wrote something down on paper.

‘Please, sit down, Maisie. I must now take your blood pressure.’ He produced a black cuff and slipped it over her hand until it circled her upper arm. He pressed a button and the cuff inflated, giving Maisie a feeling of pins and needles.

‘Ow,’ she complained.

‘Uncomfortable, I know.’ He grinned. ‘But necessary. Now, let’s see.’

He consulted a digital screen and then wrote another number down.

He considered his notes a moment and then addressed her mother.

‘Now. I’m pleased to say that Maisie isn’t dangerously underweight at this point.’

‘See!’ Maisie told her mother triumphantly.

‘However, you are on the borderline of becoming underweight, young lady.’ He looked at her. ‘You’re looking quite pale and tired. This trend of losing weight quickly must not continue, or you could soon become ill. Do you understand?’

Maisie nodded meekly. ‘I’m still eating, just not as much.’

‘Her gran found food she’d hidden,’ her mother blurted out, as if she were telling tales to the teacher.

Dr Yesufu frowned.

‘That was just leftover food I’d forgotten to take down,’ Maisie objected. ‘Gran gets annoyed if I leave food and plates up in my room, I was going to bring it down but then I forgot.’

‘Ah, it seems that little mystery is solved!’ Dr Yesufu looked pleased, but her mother still wasn’t having it.

‘All her clothes are baggy on her now, Doctor. And she stays in her room for hours on end.’

Dr Yesufu looked at her. ‘Maisie, could I ask you to pop back into the waiting room for a few minutes, just while I finish off the details with your mother here?’

Maisie shrugged and stood up, shooting her mother an annoyed look. She walked out of the office, leaving the door slightly ajar.

She pushed open the double fire doors in the corridor leading to the waiting room and let them sweep closed again. Then she tiptoed back to Dr Yesufu’s door and pressed her ear close to the gap.

‘I appreciate it is difficult for you, as her mother, not to worry, Mrs Barton, but an obsession with food is often a pre-teen thing and a passing phase. That is all.’

‘But she was never like this before her father left home!’ Maisie winced at her mother’s desperate tone. ‘I think she’s taken it badly and certain people in her dad’s house are making her feel bad.’

‘You suspect abuse?’ Dr Yesufu’s voice turned suddenly grim.

‘God, no! But I think Maisie perhaps feels insecure and a little inadequate in the company of her dad’s new partner and her daughter. The girl is the same age as Maisie, and I think she’s a bit of a bully.’

‘The best advice I can give you is to keep the lines of communication open between the two of you. Talk to your daughter, tell her you trust her to be sensible.’

‘I’ve tried talking to her, but she just insists she’s fine. She used to be such a happy little girl, smiling and full of energy.’

Maisie frowned at her mother’s description. She was ten years old; Year 6 at primary school and starting at the high school next autumn! She was hardly a little girl.

‘I understand your frustrations, I do,’ Dr Yesufu said quietly. ‘But my best advice right now is to monitor Maisie while giving her a little space. Don’t focus on food in your conversations; that could just make things worse. With any luck, this difficult time will pass and she’ll soon be back on track.’

There was a pause in the conversation, and Maisie realised her mother was crying. She recoiled in horror, opened the double doors in the corridor slowly and quietly and slipped out into the waiting room.

She found a seat in the corner, away from crying children and fraught mothers. There were a lot of old people who looked thin and tired. It was a horrible place and she didn’t want to become ill.

Inside, she felt a dull ache of shame that she’d caused her mum such worry. At the same time, she didn’t know what to do about it.

Nobody liked her and Maisie could hardly blame them. It was true what she’d been told: the only chance she had to make things better was to become a slimmer, prettier and cleverer person. Being herself was just not good enough.

When she saw her body changing in the mirror, it felt like something good was happening. She was getting closer to her goal. Closer to being a girl her parents could love and be proud of. Yet the very thing that was worrying her mum and gran was the only thing she had to hold onto.

Not eating had become all she was good at, and maybe she would leave her alone if she did as she was told.

She had to do it for a little while longer. She had no choice.