The House Guest by Mark Edwards(27)

He went to get up but I grabbed his arm. ‘For fuck’s sake, you can’t leave me hanging like that. What do you mean she’s a recruiter? For what?’

‘Adam, trust me. You’re going to need another drink.’





Chapter 15

The lights were too bright. Ruth opened her eyes and pain seared her retinas, leaving blobs of colour inside her eyelids. She turned over, burying her face in the pillow, and fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. It was like being in a boat in the midst of a storm, and she forced herself to lie perfectly still, barely daring to breathe, until the lurching, roiling motion subsided.

Tequila, she remembered. So much tequila.

But why did her body ache like this? Why did her arms and legs and ribs hurt? Now she had noticed it, every breath caused pain, like there was something sharp digging into her lungs. It was as if she’d been trampled on or run over. But she couldn’t remember anything except tequila. Drinking with Adam and Eden. Where was Adam now? She turned her head to see if he was beside her – no, it was just her – and the bed began rocking violently again.

She sucked in air. Lay motionless until sleep dragged her back into oblivion.



‘Ruth. Ruth, can you hear me?’

There was a voice coming to her from far away. A female voice, gentle but insistent. She had been having the dream again, the one she’d been having since she was a teenager: of stepping on to a stage, excited, ready to show the world who she was, and the audience turning their backs on her.

‘Ruth, you should drink something.’

She opened her eyes and saw Eden leaning over her. The light didn’t hurt so much now, though the aches in the rest of her body hadn’t subsided.

‘What time is it?’

Eden didn’t answer. Instead, she slid an arm behind Ruth’s shoulders. ‘Let me help you sit up.’

‘I don’t need help.’

Except when she tried to move it was like being kicked in the ribs. She cried out in pain.

‘Take it easy,’ Eden said in a gentle voice. ‘Slow. Here we go.’

With her arm still around Ruth’s shoulders, Eden helped her into a sitting position, pulling up the pillow so it was positioned behind Ruth’s back. Eden held out a glass of water. ‘Drink this.’

Ruth took a sip and was hit by an overwhelming urge to throw up.

‘I’m going to be—’

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her stomach convulsed, but Eden had positioned a plastic bowl beneath Ruth’s chin. Ruth was sick, then sick again. Every muscle in her body tensed as it rejected the poison in her system. She closed her eyes, finding the room wasn’t spinning as much now, though her throat was sore, the taste in her mouth bitter and rank.

Eden passed her a couple of tissues so she could wipe her mouth.

Ruth tried to laugh. ‘I’m never drinking again.’ It was only then that she took in the room beyond Eden.

This wasn’t the bedroom in Williamsburg. This wasn’t Mona and Jack’s house.

‘Where are we?’

Eden didn’t answer immediately.

‘You’re with friends.’

‘What? Where? And where’s Adam?’

‘That doesn’t matter right now. You need to rest.’

Ruth stared at her. ‘Tell me where I am.’

With each passing moment, she took in more details. The room was white and sparse, like a modern hotel room. The bed she was lying in was soft and large, king-sized. There was very little other furniture, just a bedside table, a wardrobe, and a round table with two chairs either side. There was a single window, covered by closed Venetian blinds, and a plastic panel set on the wall beside it. Behind Eden was a solid-looking wooden door – the exit, she assumed – and there was another door on the other side of the room, most likely a bathroom.

Ruth tried to get out of the bed but pain ripped through her again, pinning her to the mattress. She closed her eyes and waited for the nausea to pass.

‘Here,’ Eden said. ‘Have another drink.’

‘No. Not until you tell me where we are. What the hell is going on? Am I in hospital?’

‘No. But we’re looking after you.’

A beat. ‘We?’

‘That’s right.’

She must mean herself and Adam, Ruth thought. There was no other explanation. ‘Is Adam here?’

‘Not right now. You really should drink some water. It’ll help take the taste out of your mouth.’

‘Okay. Thank you.’ She took another sip from the proffered glass, then watched as Eden placed it gently on the bedside table. There was something different about Eden. The way she moved, her voice – she seemed softer, more elegant. She was wearing a brightly coloured shift dress, patterned with pink and yellow flowers, with a baggy cardigan over the top. It didn’t suit her.

Ruth looked down at herself. She was wearing cotton pyjamas. Like the walls of the room and the bedding, they were white.

She felt herself being pulled back towards sleep. She tried to speak, to ask Eden again what time it was – she had this terrible feeling she was supposed to be somewhere – and where her boyfriend was, but her mouth had stopped working.

She gave in and closed her eyes.



When she opened them again, Eden was sitting on a chair beside the bed, watching her.