The House Guest - Mark Edwards Page 0,9

her. The government. The cops. That weird priest. It’s so clever, isn’t it? The way that reality shifts and cracks around her . . . like, all these signs that the world is falling apart and everyone just keeps going about their business. It’s giving me chills.’

‘It’s a great film,’ I said.

‘And Ruth is incredible,’ Eden said, eyes wide. ‘When she’s on-screen it’s like . . . you can’t look away. Do you want to watch the rest of it with me?’

I had already watched The Immaculate a dozen times but I nodded. ‘Sure.’

To make space for the iPad, I moved a pile of books to the edge of the coffee table. They were all self-help books with titles like The Power of Now and Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home; then there was a book by the Dalai Lama and another about kundalini yoga.

‘Are these all Ruth’s?’ Eden asked.

‘Yeah. She’s a seeker.’

Eden raised an eyebrow.

‘I mean she’s always looking for something. Something to believe in. To belong to. Like, when we were first together she decided she was going to start going to church. She took me along a few times then said it wasn’t for her and moved on to the next thing. She flits from group to group. And she buys a lot of these books but never finishes them.’ I smiled. ‘She says she’s still looking; that she’ll find the right fit eventually.’

Eden nodded like she understood.

‘I guess you must be used to that kind of thing, living in LA.’

‘Oh yeah,’ she said. ‘Totally.’

She placed the iPad on the coffee table and hit ‘Play’. I snuck glances at Eden as she watched the film. She was enrapt. When the character known as the Saviour appeared and took Ruth’s heroine in, giving her shelter from the hunters and the collapsing world, Eden exhaled like a young girl watching the most beautiful wedding scene. During the climax, I was as gripped as Eden, marvelling at the special effects that had been achieved on a tiny budget: the sky the colour of a blood orange; black clouds like cancer; the screaming hordes fleeing the fires and floods and quakes that tore the world apart while Ruth and the Saviour sheltered in a cave and she gave birth to her miracle child. It was overblown and clichéd in parts, but the rawness of Ruth’s performance made it seem so real.

When I tore my eyes away from the screen I saw that Eden was crying again.

She wiped the tears away. ‘I’m such a loser.’

‘Join the club,’ I said.

She gave me a quizzical look.

‘Forget I said that.’ I left her tapping at the iPad, skipping back through the film to watch part of it again, and went to bed. At the top of the stairs, I glanced out the window.

The man with the grey beard was standing across the street again, watching the house. I ran back down.

‘What is it?’ Eden asked, jumping up.

‘There’s someone over the street, watching us.’

She joined me at the front window, staring out at the night.

‘Where?’ she said.

But the man had gone.

Chapter 5

It was Wednesday night, three days after Eden had arrived, and she and I were in a bar called Alison’s Starting To Happen, just around the corner from the house. Ruth had a bunch of new lines to learn following a rewrite of some scenes in her play, so I had suggested to Eden that we get out of her way.

Alison’s was busy and loud, full of young men with impressive beards, and cool women drinking craft beer. Eden and I had managed to find a table at the back and were on our third drink of the evening – or was it the fourth? The beer had been going down too easily and I didn’t realise how tipsy I was until I stood up and went to the bathroom.

‘Have you seen our stalker again?’ Eden asked with a smirk.

‘No, I haven’t. But it’s probably just some guy who lives or works locally. Maybe someone who likes the house.’

‘Or a fan of Ruth’s.’

‘Oh God, don’t say that. And definitely don’t say it to her. She’d freak out.’

Eden had been fiddling with her phone, which she now slipped into the bag that hung on the back of her chair. ‘She’s going to have to get used to it, though, when she becomes super-famous. Stalkers and superfans. All the big stars have them. You’ll end up living in some mansion in Beverly Hills, hiding behind high walls and security