The game, p.3
The Game, page 3
“Be careful, Lily. We don’t want our weekend ruined with a visit to the ER.”
“Is anyone going to have a glass of wine with their meal?” Collie asked from behind Lily. “I think everyone should start this weekend as they mean to go on.”
“What are we having for lunch?” Macy asked as she joined Bree in front of the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry? Stella said the two of you had lunch on the way out here.”
Macy waved her hand dismissively. “That was just a sandwich. I wouldn’t really call it lunch.”
“There’s a container of potato salad and some sliced ham. Maybe I can make a cheese platter if you want something lighter.” Bree began filling her arms with the appropriate ingredients, grabbing a pack of cherry tomatoes and a jar of olives to pass to Macy. “Where’s Stella?”
“She’s getting changed into something more suitable. I don’t know why she bothered driving out here dressed as if she was attending a society luncheon.” Collie ducked under Bree’s arm to pull out a bottle of wine. “Who wants a drink? It’s not too early for a glass of wine, is it?”
“Where did this bowl of candy come from?” Lily called from the family room. “It’s so pretty!”
“Stella brought the candy. She thought everyone might like to indulge in a fine French treat.” Bree made sure to meet Collie’s eye. “She often does thoughtful things like that.”
Chapter Five
A light rain had begun to fall and the group had settled into a state of lazy drowsiness in the family room by the time Imogen drove up. Macy, who was sitting at the table doing a crossword puzzle and eating Stella’s candy, saw her from the window. “This must be Imogen now. I didn’t know she owned a red convertible.”
“It’s probably a hire car. She sometimes hires one from the airport when she flies in and she uses it for a few days before returning it. She said it works out cheaper than catching a cab but I think she just likes to drive different cars.” Bree left the comfort of her armchair and walked over to the window to see for herself. “You know that she’s always liked cars.”
“She’s married to the right man. Sam is probably the biggest petrol head I’ve ever met.”
Collie snorted from behind them. “He’s a what?”
“Petrol head. It means car fanatic.” Macy poked out the tip of her tongue between her lips and Bree noticed it was stained yellow from the candy. “Does anyone know a seven-letter word for landscape beginning with S?”
“Scenery,” Stella said smoothly. She stood behind Macy’s chair and watched as Imogen popped the trunk to retrieve her suitcase. “Nice car. I wouldn’t mind driving one like that myself.” She had changed into a slim fitting pair of indigo blue jeans and a finely woven mint green sweater but she still looked as if she was heading for somewhere far more prestigious than an afternoon in front of the fire.
“That rain is getting heavier. I don’t think we’ll be walking down to the lake this afternoon.” Bree left the room to go out to meet Imogen. The glamorous living room felt cool and unlived in now that they had made the family room their base. She swung the front door open as Imogen pounded up the wet, shiny deck steps, her head bent against the driving rain. “Welcome to Uncle Bevan’s Palace,” Bree said grandly.
“Ugh. That weather is terrible. I hope we get some sunshine while we’re here.” Imogen aimed a damp kiss at Bree’s cheek as she brushed past her to step into the cabin. “I bet you’ve left me the worst bedroom.”
Bree felt a stab of guilt. “Which bedroom is the worst one? You can have the one that I chose if you don’t like the one that’s left.”
“I’m teasing you.” Imogen nodded her head towards the sound of voices in the other room. “Is everyone here?”
“All present and accounted for. Do you want me to pour you a wine while you take your bag upstairs?”
“Yes please.” Imogen thumped her way up the stairs. Imogen seldom did anything quietly.
Lily walked out of the kitchen and gazed appreciatively at the cream and blue living room. “This room is prettier than the other one but it doesn’t have the same welcoming vibe.”
“And there’s no fireplace,” Bree pointed out. “Maybe they use this one more in the summer months.”
“Maybe.” Lily studied a framed painting on the wall. The dark image depicted several writhing, semi-nude bodies and a mass of leaping flames. “Dante’s Gates of Hell. Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here. Grim choice for a vacation home.”
“They might have chosen it because it matches the dark wood of the tribal masks rather than for the subject of the painting. It does seem an odd choice but art is always subjective. Anyway, the cream and blue furnishings are a perfect foil for the darker decorations.”
Lily gave an exaggerated shiver. “It’s getting colder. I’m glad we lit the fire.”
Imogen popped her head over the rail at the top of the stairs. “Hi, Lily! I thought I heard your voice.”
“Hi, jet-setter. How was your latest trip?”
Imogen pulled a face. “Too many meetings and not enough time to unwind. I’m looking forward to this weekend. It feels like forever since I had some time off.”
Bree remembered the sound of running bath water and the clink of the wine glass. She would do anything to have a life like Imogen’s. It certainly didn’t seem so onerous from where she stood.
“I know the feeling,” Lily agreed. “Hurry up and come down to join us. We’ve missed you.”
“I’ll have a quick shower first. See you soon.” Imogen disappeared again and Bree and Lily went back to the kitchen.
“Coffee?” Macy was standing by the counter and she held a couple of coffee capsules aloft. “We have Robust or De-Caf so take your pick.”
“De-Caf,” Lily said firmly. “Too much caffeine and I’ll be bouncing off the walls. I can do that well enough on my own without needing any help.”
“Not for me. I’m fine for now.” Bree walked back through to the family room, where Stella now sat in Macy’s place at the table and was attempting one of the crosswords. Bree pulled out the chair beside her. “How’s your life going, Stella? It seems like ages since we talked properly.”
Stella had been the last to join their friendship group after Macy invited her sister-in-law along to one of Imogen’s infrequent book club meetings. Bree couldn’t remember which one of them had extended an invitation for her to join them for lunch the following week but after that Stella was always naturally included. The other women hadn’t exactly warmed to her but she was now as much a part of the group as anyone. It must be close to ten years now since she’d joined them put she hadn’t formed a close tie to anyone in particular – but that was just the way Stella was.
Stella gazed at her and Bree had the uncomfortable feeling that she was choosing her words wisely before she uttered them. Was Stella hiding something? Why was she taking so long to come up with a reply to what should have been a simple question? Stella suddenly smiled and her whole face changed and brightened. Bree relaxed. “Busy. You know how it is with two children to run around after.”
Bree nodded. “I know exactly how it is. Oh for the days when my life was my own.”
“Mmmm.” Stella printed an answer into the squares of the puzzle, writing in neat capital letters. “How’s Harry?”
“Harry is…” It was Bree’s turn to check her words. “Harry is just fine,” she finished. “Did Jack get that promotion? The last time we talked you said he was waiting to hear.”
Stella shook her head, her eyes still on the puzzle page. “No, he missed out this time around. What’s a 9-letter word for a kidnapping?”
“I don’t know… what does it start with?”
“A.”
“A… oh! Abduction.”
“Of course it is.” Stella formed her mouth into a closed lip smile and printed the word into the appropriate boxes.
“We should bring some more wood in before the weather deteriorates any further.” Lily stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, ready to assemble the troops. “If we all run outside now and grab a couple of pieces of wood each, we should have enough to last us for a while.”
“But it’s raining,” Stella protested, glancing down at her pristine mint sweater.
“And the rain isn’t going anywhere. You might get a bit wet but you’ll soon dry out once you’re back in front of the fire.” Lily clapped her hands together, effectively demonstrating her role as an efficient mother of twin boys. “Hup, hup. Let’s do this.”
Surprisingly enough, each of the women left what she was doing and obediently walked through to the front door. Bree glanced over at the stairs. Imogen still hadn’t reappeared. She supposed that when you only had yourself to think about you would soon get used to taking long showers at any time of the day. She was irritated at herself for feeling so envious.
Lily swung the door open wide and gestured outside. “Off you go. Single file and watch where you put your feet. I’m going to go last so that if I fall over I’ll have someone soft to land on.”
In a chaos of shrieks, shouts, and loud complaints about the insane weather, the women filed out into the rain and down the small incline to fetch the wood from beneath the cabin. Bree’s boots slipped on the muddy ground and she squealed loudly and grabbed for the solid support of Macy’s arm, loving every minute of being here with her friends. This weekend was going to be wonderful.
Chapter Six
“We should play a game,” Bree announced, but only groans, frowns, and shaking heads met her suggestion. The women were sitting around the fire after a laidback dinner of steak and salad, or tofu and salad for Collie, while the rain hammered against the windows outside and the wind whistled through the trees that bordered the cabin. It was pleasant in here, listening to the storm and chatting about their lives without any care for the awfulness of the weather that howled and roared outside. Several empty bottles of wine sat on the counter in the kitchen and the dulcet tones of Ed Sheeran crooned from the speakers beside the bookcase.
Imogen stretched her legs out in front of her and picked up her wine glass from the coffee table. “I don’t think you’re going to get anyone interested in a game of snakes and ladders this evening, Bree. Put your mommy-ness aside for now and just relax.”
Bree felt a quick flash of annoyance. Imogen was fond of making slightly sarcastic comments about motherhood and sometimes those attempts at cynical humor got on Bree’s nerves. Just because Imogen had chosen to be childfree, it didn’t mean that other people’s choices were wrong.
Collie sat her can of soda down beside her chair and gazed with sleepy cat’s eyes at the jumping flames. “We could play something a bit more exciting than snakes and ladders.”
Lily snorted. “Don’t think you’re going to get me interested in a game of strip poker. I love every last one of you but I’m going to get naked in front of you all.”
“No, nothing like that.” Collie sat forward and leaned her elbows on her knees, eager to explain herself now. “We could play Truth or Dare.”
“We’re probably all a little too old to dare each other to lick the dog,” Macy said mildly.
Bree giggled. “I can’t ever remember anyone daring me to lick the dog but I do like Collie’s suggestion. Why don’t we play a game of Speak Your Truth?” Her eyes gleamed as she warmed to her theme. “Let’s throw in a twist. Everyone has to write a truth down on a piece of paper, a giant secret that they’ve never told anyone before, and toss the note into this bowl.” She jumped up and seized the candy bowl from the table. The colorful balls of candy rolled musically against the glass. “And then each person can grab one of the notes at random and read out someone else’s confession. It will still be a complete secret because we won’t know who wrote the note.”
“It won’t work,” said Imogen, shaking her head before arching her neck all the way back to finish the last of the wine in her glass. “We’ll be able to recognize each other’s handwriting.”
“Not necessarily. I’ve never seen Macy’s handwriting,” Bree protested.
“You saw me doing the crossword at the table just before Imogen arrived.”
“But I didn’t take any notice. I know - you have to write the confession upside down using your non-dominant hand. No one’s writing will look like their own if we do it that way.” Bree was pleased with her quick solution.
“And we can all use the same pen so there’s no way to notice which pen each person used and determine the difference by the ink,” suggested Collie. She pushed herself out of her chair and walked around the sofa to the bookcase. “I saw a notepad somewhere over here earlier.”
“I have my crossword pen.” Macy waved the pen over her head.
“I think I need to fortify myself with some more wine if we’re going to do this.” Lily walked out to the kitchen and switched on the lights. “Does anyone else need a top up while I’m here?”
Stella bit her lip. “I don’t know if I want to play this game.”
“You have to! Either we’re all in or we’re all out. You can’t sit here and listen to everyone else’s confession without putting in one of your own.” Collie dropped the notepad into Stella’s lap. “Tear off a sheet of paper and pass the pad on.”
Stella clicked her tongue crossly and tossed the notepad onto the coffee table. Macy flipped it open and began doodling on the first blank page.
“This is silly.” Imogen lifted her wine glass and waved it at Lily, who was now standing in the doorway holding a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine. “You can top me up, Lily darling. I’m on the red.”
“Do we have anything else to eat? Snacks? Nuts? Potato chips?” Macy asked hopefully.
“I’ll get a bowl of cashew nuts and pretzels. How can you still be hungry?” Bree went out to the kitchen to rummage in the pantry. “There are some rice crackers here for the vegetarians and gluten-freers,” she called. “Hickory Smoke or Spicy Cheese flavor.”
Collie appeared beside her. “Rice crackers are boring without toppings or dip. I’m going to cut up some cubes of cheese. Let’s make a platter. I’m hungry too.”
Bree found a Tupperware container for the leftover candy and upended the contents of the bowl into it. It was probably best to hide it away from Macy anyway. Bree had noticed her friend hadn’t been able to resist taking a handful every time she passed the table. She was just a bad as Jackson when it came to sweet things.
It didn’t take long before everyone had organized herself and returned to the family room. A wooden board displaying and tempting array of cheese, nuts, rice crackers, and pretzels sat in the middle of the coffee table and the fire cast an inviting glow across the room. The wind rattled the windowpanes and Stella stood up to rearrange the curtains nearest to her chair. “I can feel a draught,” she complained. “I hate feeling cold.”
Imogen pulled an orange furry rug off the back of her chair and threw it across to Stella. “Wrap up warm, granny. It’s not cold in here at all. It’s all in your mind.”
Stella caught the blanket in both hands but she didn’t otherwise respond to Imogen’s teasing. She sat back in her chair, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and glowered at the leaping flames in the fireplace.
“What kind of confessions are you expecting to hear?” Lily asked.
“You need to reveal something you’ve never told anyone before. This is your chance to get something off your chest without anyone knowing whose secret it really is.” Bree leaned across to grab a handful of nuts from the platter. She thought this game was a wonderful idea. It brought back memories of girlhood pajama parties and less arduous, easier times. “You can off-load your troubles in a roomful of friends and be cleansed.” This part seemed like a particularly good idea, but she had to remember that she’d indulged in quite a lot of wine this evening.
Lily rolled her eyes. “You’ve been watching too much TV. It’s all starting to sound a bit too witchy to me. I don’t know if I want to play this game.”
“That makes two of us,” said Stella. Her refilled wine glass now sat forgotten beside the cheese platter. “It’s going to be too easy to guess who wrote which note. For instance, if Imogen is the first to confess and Macy is the next one, Macy can look in the bowl and see how Imogen folded her note. When the contents of that note are read to the room, Macy will know that it’s Imogen’s secret.” She smiled a contented smile. “We’ll just have to play another game. Speak Your Truth won’t work, not if the owner of each confession wants their revelation to be kept a secret.”
“Each person has to fold their note in two. In half and then in half again.” Bree hurriedly made some further suggestions as she felt the game slipping out of her reach. “If every note is folded in the same way it will be impossible to tell them apart just by looking at them.”
Lily slid off her chair to sit on her knees in front of the coffee table. She began stacking several pretzels into a mini tower. “We could play Pretzel Jenga.”
“No, let’s play Speak Your Truth. I think it will be a laugh.” Macy threw the notepad across to Stella. “If we do it right, the secret could belong to anyone in this room. Besides, it’s up to the confessor as to just how heavy and confidential they want to make their confession. I might be planning to confess that I’m starting another diet on Wednesday.” Macy piled two cheese cubes onto a rice cracker and closed her eyes as she bit into it with evident relish.
“I still think we’ll be able to guess who wrote which note just from the order that they’re dropped into the bowl,” said Stella. She sat the notepad back on the coffee table and curled her feet up beneath her, rearranging the blanket to cover her legs. She watched Lily stacking the pretzels. “Pretzel Jenga sounds like fun.”
Bree hid a smile as she glanced at the paper sitting on Stella’s furry orange lap. Despite the Stella’s protests, she’d torn a couple of pages from the notepad before discarding it.
