The House Guest by Mark Edwards(12)

She didn’t let me finish. ‘I don’t just mean about the play. I’m sure first-night nerves are similar whatever stage you’re on. I almost vomited the first time I did that play above that pub.’

‘I remember.’ Her first lead role, in a tiny production in one of London’s smallest venues. We’d only been together a few months and it was the first time I realised she might actually make it; that one day she could be famous.

‘I’m talking about everything that comes after,’ she said. ‘As soon as this run’s over, we’ll be off to LA. I just got another new script to look at from Jayne.’ That was her agent, who was based in the UK. ‘It’s like I’m standing at this junction, with a dozen different paths to choose between and not a clue which one to take.’

Something or someone had clearly got her riled up today. For weeks she had been saying she only wanted to concentrate on the play and not think about anything else. Maybe it had been Sally, or one of the other actors, or perhaps something she’d seen on social media.

‘What does Jayne say?’ I asked.

‘Oh, well, she’s just going to want me to take whatever pays the most, isn’t she? She sent me a terrible script for this ridiculous action movie. A girlfriend role. But the money is insane.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Jayne’s great for British theatre and TV but I’m starting to wonder if she’s the right person for me now.’

I was taken aback. She hadn’t mentioned any of this before.

‘I was talking to Eden about it and she thinks I should do more indie films. Build a cult following . . .’

‘Wait. Is Eden an expert?’

‘Did I hear my name?’

Eden had come silently down the stairs.

‘Oh, we were just talking about the future,’ Ruth said. ‘Adam thinks I should take the dumb action role.’

‘What? No, I don’t!’

Ruth sat up and put her head in her hands. ‘Oh God, I don’t know what to do. If I make the wrong move . . .’

Eden sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Take a deep breath. I’m sure whatever you do—’

‘No, you’re wrong. It would be so easy to fuck it up now. It happens all the time. People make promises, tell you something is going to happen, and then they let you down.’

I went over. ‘Ruth, come on.’

‘Don’t “come on” me.’ She paused, then laughed. ‘Oh God, that sounded really rude.’ She kept laughing, and Eden and I joined in. It broke the tension. ‘I’m sorry,’ Ruth said. ‘It’s been a long day. Sometimes I let everything get to me.’ She stood up and gave me a hug. ‘It’s going to be all right, isn’t it? Whatever happens.’

‘Of course it is. But we should talk about this.’

‘I know. But not tonight, eh?’

It was half seven but it seemed less bright than normal outside. I went over to the window. The sky had clouded over. ‘Looks like it’s going to rain again.’

‘There’s going to be a storm. Can’t you feel it?’

I could. The air was heavy, oppressive, and the A/C was struggling to keep the house cool. Apparently, updating this ancient air conditioning system was high on Jack and Mona’s to-do list.

Which reminded me: ‘Jack and Mona will be back the day after tomorrow.’

‘I know. So soon,’ Ruth said. ‘What happened to the last few weeks?’

‘I bet you can’t wait,’ I said to Eden.

‘What’s that?’ She had been doing something on her phone.

‘Jack and Mona. I imagine they’ll be surprised to see you.’

She put the phone away and smiled. ‘Yeah. I’m picturing their faces. They’ll be like, “What are you doing here?”’



Eden went out to get dinner from the Japanese place round the corner. While she was gone, I tried to continue the conversation with Ruth. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to reassure her because, since the chat with Eden the other night, I’d been feeling a lot better. I knew from a couple of remarks she’d made that Ruth must have been worried about her career and its potential impact on our relationship. I wanted her to know that, whatever happened, I would support her, and I was sure she would do the same for me.

But then Ruth got a call from Jayne and disappeared into the kitchen to take it. At the same time, the A/C unit made a shuddering noise before falling silent. I was still prodding at the buttons, trying to resuscitate it, when Eden returned.

‘Dinner,’ she said, holding up a pair of bags. The smell of noodles and hot, spicy sauce filled the room. She was holding a third bag too, which she placed on the table with a thump. ‘Look what I got,’ she said, pulling out one bottle then another. ‘Tequila! I got limes and salt too.’

The last time I’d drunk tequila I had spent half the night vomiting.

‘I’m really not sure—’ I began.

But Ruth interrupted me. ‘I’ll get the shot glasses. This is exactly what I need tonight. To get wasted.’



The storm broke sometime around ten, with a boom of thunder that seemed like it was right there in the room with us. Lightning followed a split second later, and then came the rain, pounding the roof and the windows and the door, like the Big Bad Wolf banging to be let in.