Nine Perfect Strangers

‘Fuck,’ said Jessica. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

‘It’s just the drugs,’ said Lars. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s saying.’

‘That’s not the problem,’ said Ben. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s doing.’

Masha lowered her head and put her fingertips to the neckline of her dress.

‘We will all do push-ups now,’ she said. ‘Push-ups are the perfect functional integrated resistance exercise. It’s the only exercise that works every single muscle in your body. Twenty push-ups! Now!’

No-one moved.

‘Why do you ignore me?’ Masha jabbed a finger at the screen. ‘Push-ups! Now! Or I will be forced to take action!’

What action could she possibly take? But they didn’t wait to find out. They dropped to the floor like soldiers.

Heather tried to lift and lower her tired, hungry body in a parallel line as Masha counted out loud, ‘One, two, three! Drop those hips! No Harbour Bridges!’

Was she still in her hallucinogenic state, where she seemingly believed they all worked for her? Did she plan to kill them all? Heather felt a sudden wild panic. She’d brought her daughter to this place. Zoe’s life could rest in the hands of this mad, drug-affected woman.

She looked around her. Frances did girl push-ups on her knees. Jessica cried as she, too, gave up and went from her toes to her knees. Tony, the former athlete, dripped sweat as he did perfect form push-ups at twice the speed of almost everyone else, in spite of having just popped his shoulder. Heather noted that her own darling husband kept pace.

‘Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Relax! Excellent!’

Heather collapsed onto her stomach and looked up. Masha had pressed her face so close to the screen that all they could see was a magnified image of her nose, mouth and chin.

‘I’m just wondering,’ said the disembodied mouth. ‘Can you smell it yet?’

It was Napoleon who answered in the calm, gentle voice he would use for a toddler. ‘Smell what, Masha?’

‘The smoke.’

chapter sixty-eight

Tony

The screen turned to static but Masha’s voice continued to ring through the room.

‘Deep transformation is possible but you must detach from your beliefs and assumptions!’

‘I can smell smoke,’ said Zoe, her face white.

‘That’s right, Zoe, you can smell smoke, for this house, my house, is burning to the ground as we speak,’ said Masha. ‘Possessions mean nothing! Will you rise from the ashes? Remember, Buddha says, “No-one saves us but ourselves”!’

‘Look,’ whispered Frances.

Wisps of black smoke drifted sinuously beneath the locked heavy oak door.

‘Let us out!’ Jessica screamed so loudly her voice turned hoarse. ‘Can you hear me, Masha? You let us out right now!’

The screen turned black.

Masha’s absence was now as terrifying as her presence had been.

‘We need to block that doorway,’ said Tony, but Heather and Napoleon were way ahead of him, returning from the bathrooms carrying dripping wet towels that they were rolling into tight cylinders, as if this was their job, as if they’d been expecting exactly this situation.

As they got to the door the volume of smoke increased suddenly and frighteningly, pouring into the room like water. People began to cough. Tony’s chest tightened.