The House Guest by Mark Edwards(29)

Eden was waiting outside the door. She looked more herself now, dressed in a long-sleeved T-shirt with denim shorts and sneakers. Was Ruth imagining it or was there anxiety on Eden’s face? If there was, it vanished in a flash as she showed what Ruth had come to think of as the Eden smile.

‘Nice bath?’ Eden asked.

Ruth didn’t want to discuss the merits of the bathroom. But the bath had soothed her. Given her strength. ‘What happened to me? Why I am covered in bruises? And where are we? And what about my rehearsal? What did you mean when—’

Eden laughed.

‘Sorry. I’ve just . . . I don’t understand what’s going on. I can’t remember anything and I feel like I’m going crazy. If you told me right now that we were both dead and this was a waiting room for Heaven, I’d probably believe you.’

‘We’re not dead. Nobody’s dead.’

‘So where the hell are we? What happened? What—’ She stopped herself before she launched into another series of questions.

‘Why don’t you sit down? I brought you some soup.’

When she saw the bowl of soup and plate of bread on the round table by the window, which was still covered by closed blinds, Ruth’s stomach growled. She sat on the wooden chair and began to eat. Chicken soup.

‘Good for the soul,’ Eden said, taking the seat opposite. ‘I knew you’d be starving. You haven’t eaten since Friday.’

‘Is it still Sunday?’

‘Monday.’

Ruth put the spoon down. She’d slept through another day.

‘We thought it was best to let you sleep,’ Eden said.

‘We?’

Eden nodded but didn’t say any more. Did she mean doctors? Was this some kind of private hospital?

‘Where am I?’

‘Ruth, I don’t want you to freak out. I think it’s important first that I tell you what happened, fill in the gaps in your memory.’

‘You’re scaring me.’ Ruth looked around the room. It had to be a hotel or a hospital. Oh God, was it some kind of psychiatric hospital? She’d heard about people getting committed to such places and never getting out.

She got to her feet again and staggered over towards the window.

Eden stood too and blocked her way.

‘I need some daylight. How do you open these blinds?’

‘I can do it. But first, let me explain—’

‘Eden, open the blinds!’ Gathering what remained of her strength, she shouldered her way past Eden and was about to start jabbing at buttons on the wall panel when Eden gently steered her out of the way and pressed the correct button. The blinds opened.

Ruth was speechless.

She had expected to see the grounds of a hospital, a lawn or a courtyard. She had thought she would see other patients shuffling about, nurses and doctors. At the very least she had expected to see the ground.

Instead, she saw the city. A sea of concrete and glass, stretched out before and below her. Rooftops and spires and skyscrapers. There, in the distance, was the familiar towering shape of the Empire State Building. Water shimmered out of focus on the horizon. A helicopter buzzed past, almost close enough to touch.

Ruth recoiled, and the world around her spun.

‘Great view, huh?’ Eden said.

Ruth watched as the helicopter retreated into the distance. ‘Where the hell are we? In a hotel?’

‘Not a hotel.’

‘Then what?’

‘Think of it as a hideaway.’

Ruth’s head was starting to throb. ‘None of this makes sense. I need to go.’

She crossed to the wardrobe and opened it. There was nothing inside but another pair of white pyjamas, neatly folded.

‘Where are my clothes?’

‘Being laundered.’ Eden approached her. ‘Come on, please, sit down. Let me—’

‘I have to get out of here. It’s Monday. That means I’ve missed two days of rehearsals. Sally is going to fire me. Cara is going to be going insane with excitement, thinking she can replace me. Does Adam know where I am? He’s going to be worrying about me . . .’

‘Ruth, please sit down. I need to tell you something.’

There was, Ruth noticed now, a sheen of sweat on Eden’s forehead, even though this room was air-conditioned, almost chilly.

‘I’m not going to sit down. I want my clothes, now. I want to get out of here.’ She took a step towards Eden and a white bolt of agony shot from her ankle up her leg. She cried out.

‘Ruth, please, sit down.’

Ruth had no choice but to obey. She limped over to the bed and sat on it, sucking in a deep breath, concentrating on her relaxation technique. Breathe it in, exhale it out.

‘I have to talk to Sally,’ she said. ‘Where’s my phone?’

‘It broke. When you fell.’

Fell?

Eden went on. ‘And I keep trying to tell you. There’s no point talking to Sally. She’s already made up her mind.’ She sat beside Ruth and produced her own phone, navigating to a page on the Playbill website. She showed the screen to Ruth, saying, ‘I’m so sorry.’

LAST-MINUTE CHANGE OF LEAD IN KLAY’S DARE

Ruth read the short news piece with horror. It said that Sally had decided to replace the female lead in her new play after the actress slated for the role had ‘acted unprofessionally’. British actress Ruth Armstrong is to be replaced by another unknown, 24-year-old Australian Cara Barker.