The Hotel

Chapter Five

For a little while, it seemed like Mama was better. She stopped going down to the van to see Tom. Mama would clean the rooms from ten in the morning until two in the afternoon. Having work to do gave her a sense of pride she'd lost after losing her last job.

After work, she'd spend time with me. We'd help Mr. And Mrs. Smith pick the vegetables that grew on the hotel's land or plant seeds. Clarissa was teaching me how to sew, and Jake was trying to teach me how to draw. Caroline had begun to warm to Mama. She'd let her do puzzles with us sometimes.

For a few weeks, I thought life was better and that things were perfect. I didn't care that no one ever came to the hotel. I was glad because they couldn't spoil things, couldn't bring the bad from the outside world inside.

But it didn't last. Mama began to spiral out of control on what would have been Tom's birthday. She was worst than when we first came to the hotel.

Mama stopped cleaning the rooms. She barely left our one. Only when she wanted her next drink. In the night, I'd hear speaking to Tom. I'd beg her to stop, but she wouldn't.

I was sure Mr. And Mrs. Smith would throw us out of the hotel. And then I'd be alone with Mama. The thought of that began to scare me more with each day that passed. I loved her as much as life itself. But I knew I couldn't fix her or keep her safe. Mama couldn't keep me safe.

It was a horrible thing for an eleven-year-old child to realise. Worse was having to hear how I ruined Mama's life.

Three weeks after what would have been Tom's birthday, Mr. Smith's wine made from stinging nettles and berries was ready to be drunk. He had a tasting party in the lobby of the hotel.

I was allowed a small glass. It was Mama's idea to let me have one. At the start, she was on her best behaviour. It didn't last long. The more she drank, the more hostile she became to everyone.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" I whispered when she started swearing at Jake. I thought she hadn't heard, but Mama had.

Mama laughed and said, "You know, before you were born, I had prospects. A future. I was never going to be a millionaire or anything, but I could have had a comfortable life. Then I got pregnant with you, and everything went to shit."

Then Mama stumbled away. I didn't follow. The others tried to cheer me up, telling me Mama didn't mean it. But I knew she did.

That night was the first time I saw her, the masked girl. I'd gone looking for Mama when she didn't come back to our room. I was angry at her for what she'd said earlier, but I couldn't switch off worrying about her.

I found her outside room twenty-three, passed out in a pool of her own vomit. Mama had put her foot through the door. The closer I got to her, the louder the all too familiar voice of doom got in my head. 

It screamed at me to return to our room, but I didn't.

That's when I saw her. Hands covered in blood, holding her a bloodied knife,  the way a bride carried a bouquet, walking down the hallway. She stopped and stared at me. Although I couldn't see her face through the mask, I knew she was smiling.

The voice of doom begged me to walk away and leave Mama for once, but I couldn't.

I wouldn't leave her there with the masked girl the same way I didn't when she killed Tom.

The girl put the knife to her lips and then winked at me before looking at Mama, studying her like she was nothing more than an insect under a magnifying glass.

I wanted to scream for the girl to leave, but I couldn't speak or move. Fear kept me trapped there as if I were nothing more than a statue.

"Ruby dear, what are you doing out of bed?" Mrs. Smith called from behind me. The masked girl vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

"I came to find Mama. There was a girl with a knife," I said, the words rushing out of my mouth like water bursting through a dam.

"It's just your imagination. You're tired, you were upset earlier, and my husband's wine is strong stuff, Ruby. I promise you, no girl is running around this place with a knife. Now be a good girl and go back to your room. I'll sort Dawn out," Mrs. Smith ordered softly.

I wanted to believe her, but I knew what I had seen. The masked girl was as real as I was.