Space was larger than the bedrooms but sparsely fitted, and the window looked over the
rooftops at the treed hills in the distance. “This is a nice space.” She traced a finger over the desk’s surface. “Lots of natural light. Maybe this could be my workroom.” “Maybe.” The walls were too dark, and the rug too severely is worn for me to like the space. I didn’t want to influence her choice by letting reluctance into my voice, but it slipped in regardless. “Let’s have a look at what else this house has.” Ruby nodded and followed me back to the hallway. We stepped into each room we passed. Some hadn’t been lived in for some time. Others showed signs of recent inhabitation. Clothes hung in the wardrobes of the children’s rooms, where toys were scattered over the floor.
“The last family did leave in a rush, huh?” Ruby stopped in one of the boys’ rooms. The bedsheets lay in a pool on the floor. She rubbed at her arms. “I’m surprised they didn’t come back for anything. The furniture’s one thing, but wouldn’t you get your clothes?” I could see the side of my room through the window. It might have been the room I’d seen the flash of gunfire in. My eyes drifted over the wood panelling until they landed on a small black hole in the wall, near the window. I bet if we dug into the wood, we’d find the bullet there. “Jo?” “Yeah?” What the fuck!! It was a dream, but. And everything looked like reality.
“How long did the last family live here?” I asked her. “Not long.” She scoured her memory. “Three months. Maybe three and a
half. The family before that was a year. “Okay,” I said. She brushed some of her fair hair away from her face. “That’s quick turnover.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I tried to think of something to make it seem a little less grim. “They probably didn’t like the neighbourhood. There are lots of older people around here. Hardly any kids. And no convenient public transport. It’s no wonder they didn’t want to stay, huh?” “Maybe.” She gave me a small smile and kicked at the discarded sheets.
“Either way, the house was cheap. I can put up with some quirks for that.” When we returned to the foyer, I was surprised by a taste of fresh air coming through the open door. I’d gotten used to the house’s stuffy, dusty atmosphere. Through one of the doorways, I caught a glimpse of a grand piano. I wasn’t surprised; the building felt like it needed a dignified instrument to round out the atmosphere. Ruby stared at the unpacked boxes for a moment, and I wondered what she was thinking. Was she trying to imagine where she would find room for her own life amongst a stranger’s house? Or was she afraid of unpacking, knowing that it would be a commitment to stay and that she would risk leaving her possessions behind if she had to flee during the night? “Jo?” She folded her arms over her chest. Her posture belied that she was nervous, but at least now she looked me in the eyes. “Can I ask a favour?” “Yeah, sure.”
“On my website, could I list this address?” She must
have seen the confusion on my face, because she quickly added, “Probably no one will visit. I just have to have a public address there by law. But… I’d rather not use my real address. I want to try to separate myself from my old life as much as possible. If that makes sense.” It didn’t, but I shrugged. “Sure. I don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” Some of the tightness around her eyes relaxed. “And, um, if anyone ever does ask after me, could you… pretend like you don’t know me?” Ah. So you’re hiding from someone. The rush into purchasing the house suddenly made more sense. “Yeah, of course. As far as strangers are concerned, I don’t know a single Ruby.”
Sunlight came through the window at a sharp angle. I’d spent more time in Marwick House than I’d expected and suddenly felt bad for taking up so much of Ruby’s day. I waved towards the door. “I’d better head to my room, anyway. Thanks for letting me have a look around. And good luck with the dolls.”
“Oh, your basket—”
“Keep it. I’ve got plenty more.” I stepped through the door, and Ruby
followed to lean on the frame.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”