Page 34 of The House Guest

‘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.

‘You’re back,’ Eden said, with that soft smile. ‘Do you feel any better?’

Ruth tried to push herself upright, and this time she was able to do it without quite as much pain, though her ribs were still sore and she winced as she sat up.

Eden passed her the water and she sipped at it again, worried she would be sick if she drank too much.

And then panic jolted through her.

‘What time is it?’ she demanded. She looked around for her phone, the one Eden had given her, but there was no sign of it. In fact, there was no sign of any of her stuff.

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