Nine Perfect Strangers - Liane Moriarty Page 0,106

but there’s no need to get personal.”

“This is personal!” shouted Heather.

“Sweetheart,” said Napoleon. “Don’t.” The gentle way he scolded his wife made Carmel’s heart ache.

“Do you have children, Carmel?” asked Heather in a more civilized tone.

“I have four little girls,” said Carmel carefully.

“Well, how would you feel if someone gave your children drugs?”

It was true that she wouldn’t want a single drug to cross their precious lips. “My children are very little. Obviously Masha would never—”

“Do you have any idea of the serious long-term health consequences we could all be facing?” interrupted Heather.

“I feel worse than I’ve ever felt in my entire life,” said Jessica.

“There you go,” said Heather with satisfaction.

“Well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life,” said Carmel. It wasn’t entirely true, there was the teeth situation, but she did feel quite good. Her mind was filled with images she hadn’t yet had a chance to interpret, as if she’d just spent a day at some incredible immersive art exhibit.

“I feel pretty good so far,” admitted Frances.

“I do have a significant headache,” said Lars.

“Yeah, me too,” said Tony.

“I feel like I might be down a dress size.” Carmel pulled at the loose waistband of her leggings. She frowned, trying to remember some important revelation she’d come to last night about her body. It didn’t matter … it did matter … it was the only one she had? Somehow it didn’t seem quite so profound and transcendent a revelation when she tried to pin it down with ordinary words. “Although I’m not trying to change my body completely. I’m just here to get healthy.”

“Healthy?!” Heather banged her palm against her forehead. “This place has gone way beyond bloody dieting!”

“Mum.” Zoe put her hand on her mother’s knee. “Nobody died. We’re all still here. Just … please, relax.”

“Relax?!” Heather took Zoe’s hand in hers and shook it. “You could have died! Any one of us could have died! If there was anyone with underlying mental-health issues that could have been exacerbated, or heart issues! Your dad has high blood pressure! He should never have been given drugs.”

“People probably think you’re the one with mental-health issues,” murmured Zoe.

“That’s not helping,” said Napoleon.

“Can’t we just pick the lock on the door?” said Frances, and she looked hopefully at Tony.

“Why are you looking at me? Do I look like I have a lot of break-and-enter experience?” he said.

“Sorry,” said Frances. Carmel could see her point. Tony did look like someone who might have dabbled in a bit of breaking-and-entering in his youth.

“We could try. We’d need something to pick it with,” said Ben. He patted himself down and came up with nothing.

“I’m sure there’s no need to panic just yet,” said Napoleon.

“It’s obviously a kind of problem-solving exercise and eventually she’ll realize that we can’t solve it.” Lars yawned, then lay down on a yoga mat and shielded his eyes with his arm.

“I think they’re watching us in here,” said Jessica. She pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “Isn’t that a camera up there?”

They all looked up at the tiny security camera with a flashing red light above the blank television screen.

“Yao told me they had some kind of security intercom system,” said Frances.

“Me too,” said Carmel. “On the first day.”

It felt like a hundred years ago.

Heather leaped to her feet and addressed the camera. “You let us out immediately!” she shrieked. “We did not come here to spend the anniversary of our son’s death locked in a room with strangers!”

Carmel flinched. She had forgotten the anniversary was today. The woman was allowed to snap and snarl as much as she wanted.

There was silence. Nothing happened.

Heather stamped her foot. “I can’t believe we’re paying for this.”

Napoleon stood and pulled Heather into his arms. “It doesn’t matter where we are today,” he said.

“It does,” Heather cried quietly into his shirt. Suddenly she seemed diminished, all the rage gone, just a tiny, sad, traumatized mother.

“Shhh,” said Napoleon.

She was saying something over and over and it took a moment for Carmel to distinguish the words: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Napoleon. “We’re fine. Everything is fine.”

Everyone looked away from what seemed like an unbearably private moment. Zoe avoided looking at her parents also. She went to a corner of the room, put one palm against a wall, stood on one leg, and held her ankle in the other hand, doing a yoga class for one.

Carmel looked at the blank screen of the television, suddenly desperate to be far,