you’re a good person, Ruthie,’ he said. For some reason he had taken to calling her Ruthie. ‘And you can’t imagine what it feels like to be jealous. But I’ve been there. I’ve seen it many times. In this game, we’re all like rats in a fire, scrambling for the exit. Fighting, biting, clambering over each other.’ He loved his metaphors. ‘How do you think the rats who are caught in the fire feel about their former friends who have escaped into the fresh air?’
‘Do rats have friends?’
He smiled condescendingly. ‘Perhaps not. But actors don’t have friends either. Not really. Certainly not other actors, or anyone involved in the arts. We are all competing with each other, like it or not. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Ruthie.’
‘Or rat-eat-rat.’
‘Quite. Do you have a partner? A boyfriend?’
‘I do.’
‘And is he an actor?’
‘A writer.’
He’d clutched his chest dramatically. ‘The very worst. Writers are even more rabidly competitive than actors. I think it’s something to do with all the time they spend on their own. Drives them quite mad. Anyway, do be careful, Ruthie. You’d better hope your squeeze attains success at the same time and scale as you.’
She had dismissed his lecture. Or, at least, she had tried to. Because as the film became a critical hit, she couldn’t help but hear envy in Adam’s voice, even as he praised her. When she’d got the part in the play, she’d imagined she saw fear in Adam’s eyes. When she’d talked about her co-star in Dare and the chemistry between them, she’d detected jealousy. For a long time, she had been trying to dismiss her suspicions, putting it down to the poison that veteran actor had dripped in her ear. But now she knew.
Adam would be happy she had been fired from the play.
He would be delighted she was failing.
She knew this because, yesterday, Eden had come to her and taken hold of her hands and said she had something Ruth needed to hear. Ruth had sat on the bed with Eden beside her, and listened to a conversation Eden had recorded on her phone that night Eden and Adam had gone to a bar on their own.
‘Why did you record it?’ Ruth asked.
Eden stared at her hands. ‘It’s something I do. I record conversations, for my diary. I know I shouldn’t, that it’s a breach of privacy, but I’m not doing it for malicious reasons and they only ever go into my private diary. I never share them.’
Except for now.
The sound quality was not great – there was a lot of background noise – but both their voices were audible.
Eden: It must be weird, though. Dating someone who’s on the verge of becoming famous. But also you’re going to be famous too, right? A big writer.
Adam: I’m not going to be a big writer.
Eden: Don’t say that.
Adam: But it’s true. And you’re right. A year ago we were equals. We were going to take on the world together. I was going to write the plays and the movies and she was going to star in them. I’m scared. Scared that she’s going to leave me behind, that she won’t want me anymore. I wish it could be the way it was. Just me and her. Two losers together.
‘I know it’s not nice to hear,’ Eden had said.
‘Then why play it to me?’
‘Because I think you need to hear it. I think it’s important to know who has your back and who doesn’t. You need to know who wants you to fail.’
‘I need to talk to him,’ Ruth said, trying to pick up Eden’s phone.
Eden snatched it away. ‘No. That’s not a good idea.’
‘Why?’
Eden lowered her gaze again. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you. About Adam. He . . . he hit on me.’
Ruth stared at her. ‘When?’
‘That night. At the bar. Actually, on the way home. He got really tactile and I guess, well, I guess I was flirting too. But then he tried to kiss me. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t let him. Not for more than a second, anyway. And I’m sorry, but he was the same on Friday too, when he was sober, at the pool. He practically begged me to go swimming with him, and the whole time his eyes were all over me. He kept touching me too. I told him it was making me uncomfortable and he eventually stopped but . . .’
‘But what?’
‘I think he’s preparing to move on. He’s decided your