The House Guest by Mark Edwards(57)

‘Huh. That’s true.’

He warmed to his theme. ‘Like people who look over your shoulder when they’re talking to you at a party, hoping to talk to someone more useful. Doesn’t that drive you crazy? And don’t get me started on relationships.’

She watched a plane drift slowly across the sky and thought about Adam. Did he care that she wasn’t around? What was he doing right now?

‘We’re stronger together,’ Gabriel said, gazing down at the city below. ‘But only with people we can absolutely trust and rely on. Do you have that with Adam?’

Tears pricked her eyes. ‘I did once.’

She swiped at her cheeks, embarrassed.

‘I know what it’s like to be let down, Ruth,’ Gabriel said. He was leaning against the barrier now, staring at a blinking light on the horizon. A faint breeze stirred his hair.

‘All the people here, including me, were let down by our families. Some of us had fathers who beat us or abused us. Some of us had mothers who were more interested in the bottle or the needle than giving us what we needed. Many of us looked for help among our teachers, or a priest, or some other authority figure. All of us were disappointed. We know what it’s like for someone to tell us they love us one minute and betray us the next. We’re all like you, Ruth.’

He turned to meet her eye. That intense gaze again. The one she found hard to break.

‘That’s why I decided to change things. I went out and looked for people like me, people with nobody to rely on, and we made a pact. That whatever happened, we would look out for each other. Over that time, it’s grown. Friends find friends. Each new friend joins us in our pact, and the friendship group grows. It’s a beautiful thing. If someone in Arizona needs assistance, a friend in Oregon can help them. If a friend in California is in trouble, someone they’ve never met – but who has taken the same oath as them – can get them out of it. We help each other find work. We help with legal problems. We share knowledge and advice. I would call it a family except, well, families always let you down. This is better than a family.’

‘And you’re the leader?’

‘We have no leader. I’m just the person who started it, and I still give others guidance.’

‘Like a priest?’

‘Hardly. More like, I don’t know, an elder. This isn’t a religion. We worship no god. We have no crazy belief system. We have no name, no leader. We don’t meet up in the desert and burn effigies. This isn’t a cult.’ He said the word like it tasted bad. ‘We have certain rules that we all follow – we vow to help and protect each other – but that’s it.’

He looked at her with such intensity it was uncomfortable, almost sexual. No, not almost sexual. It reminded her of the way Adam used to look at her when they were in bed together, when he was inside her. She found herself growing hot.

‘And sometimes,’ Gabriel said, ‘we find someone who could use a hand.’

She waited, short of breath.

‘Like you, Ruth.’

She realised she had been waiting for this.

‘I’ve seen your work,’ he said. ‘I can see how talented you are. How special. You’ve got something, a quality, that is rare. I don’t just mean that you’re a great actress, though you are, or that the camera loves you, though it does. It’s something more than that. Something that only comes along once in a generation. I imagine it’s how people felt when they first saw Meryl Streep, or Audrey Hepburn.’

She was used to people sucking up to her, lavishing her with fake praise and flattery. But this didn’t sound like that. Gabriel seemed so sincere, almost painfully so. The emotion in his voice, the way his eyes shone – it was almost too much to take. She finally managed to look away. She had to.

‘That’s . . .’ She didn’t know what to say. To be compared to Meryl and Audrey! These were words she had dreamed of hearing. But, at the same time, she found it hard to take it seriously, despite Gabriel’s earnest expression. She was torn between a base desire to believe him and allow herself to bask in the warmth of his praise, and another instinctive reaction: to reject what he was saying, to listen to the voice of self-doubt, the one that told her she would fail, the one that said she was nothing special. An unwanted brat. A girl who no one could really love.

‘I need to go inside,’ she said, suddenly dizzy.

‘Of course.’

They stepped back into the room and Gabriel pushed the buttons again. The balcony slid back with hardly a sound into the floor beneath their feet, and the windows swung slowly out and snicked closed. It was utterly insane, and beautiful.

They sat back at the table. She sipped at her coffee but it had gone cold.

‘I’ll get you another,’ Gabriel said.

‘No. Please. It’s fine.’

‘If you’re sure. Perhaps I should let you rest now. Think about what I said. I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions.’

She nodded.

‘But I’d like you to stay here a little longer, so we can have a chance to talk again once what I’ve told you has sunk in. And you should talk to Eden and Marie and the others.’

She found herself nodding.

He rose to leave.

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m confused. You say you can help me. That you want me to join you. But I don’t understand what that means. What it entails. And I really don’t understand why I have to stay here.’