by R. J. Parker
‘Are you forgetting that Rhys has your envelope?’ Jakob slurred.
‘Perhaps I don’t mind him seeing what’s in mine. Maybe opening them would be more honest than burning them.’
‘Maybe you’re right. Your choice, pumpkin.’ Rhys sucked on the hairs under his lip.
Now Ted wanted his own envelope back, wished he’d listened to his common sense. But the idea of having Juliette forgive him for what he’d written had been too difficult to resist.
Kathryn lowered the lighter. ‘Maybe there’s nothing but rubbish on mine.’ She was clearly relishing the moment.
‘Then you’ve cheated.’ Connor didn’t sound amused. ‘And if that’s the case, nobody plays.’
Orla eyed his lemon envelope. ‘Eager for me to burn yours then? We could all just open them now.’
But Evie interjected. ‘Stop teasing, Kathryn. Or hand him back the envelope. The sole purpose of the game is to release the past and unite for the sake of the future.’
‘You seem very keen to do that, Evie.’ Jakob reached for his glass, but it was empty.
Kathryn smiled at Rhys, then flicked the flint again. She played the lighter over the bottom of the envelope and the flames licked up the paper. She released it when they reached her French polished nails.
The envelope and its secret curled into black in the ashtray and nobody spoke until the last patch of blue paper had vanished.
‘I’d better open a window before we set the alarm off.’ Ted was glad of the distraction, slid the pane behind him open and let the freezing air pour in. But nobody sitting around the table complained about the cold.
‘My turn now.’ Rhys held his hand out for the lighter.
‘You can breathe,’ Kathryn said caustically and passed it to him. She shoved the ashtray and it slid across the table.
Ted wondered exactly what she’d just forgiven Rhys for. And did she now feel foolish because she had?
Evie sat straight. ‘We need a change in attitude here. This is to help us, not drive us apart. We’re all willingly doing this.’
‘Are we?’ Ted countered.
Juliette turned slowly to him, playfulness gone and suspicion creeping into her expression. ‘Yes. Or are you afraid I might open yours?’ Her eyes flicked to his sealed orange envelope on the table in front of her.
‘I just don’t think this is going to lead anywhere good.’ Ted shook his head too many times.
Juliette frowned at him, genuinely worried now.
‘Let’s just get this finished,’ Connor said in a surly tone. ‘Perhaps Evie will stop trying to analyse Orla and me then.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Evie almost sounded mortified.
‘Oh, come on.’ Connor shook his head.
‘Rhys, are you doing this?’ Kathryn nodded at her husband; her expression was flushed.
‘What’s the matter, pumpkin? Feeling uncomfortable?’ He grinned.
‘Don’t call me that.’ Kathryn clenched her jaw.
Ted knew the menopause had arrived early for Kathryn. She was having what she described as one of her ‘tropical moments’ but she’d made it clear she didn’t want people to fuss when it happened. Besides, the window was already open.
‘Just get it done,’ Jakob huffed.
Rhys nodded, held the lighter to the side of Kathryn’s aquamarine envelope and paused for dramatic effect. ‘I forgive you.’
‘You have to mean it, Rhys,’ Evie reminded him. ‘Say it like you do.’
‘OK.’ Rhys nodded and some of the cruelty drained from his face. He wet his mouth. ‘I forgive you.’ His eyes still fixed on his wife, Rhys set fire to the envelope and let it drop into the ashtray.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jakob indicated the mint green envelope that contained his secret. ‘Maybe you should have gone first, Evie.’
‘Perhaps.’ Evie held it up and studied the seal.
Ted watched Jakob examine his empty glass and then the unopened bottle that Rhys had selected at the opposite end of the table. Looked like the game was sobering everybody up. It had definitely caused a fractious atmosphere between each couple, including him and Juliette. He just wanted it over now. He suspected he’d be calling cabs soon.
‘Show us how it’s done then.’ Jakob interlinked his fingers on the table and sat forward.
Rhys slid the smoking ashtray and the lighter down the table to where they were sitting. Jakob took them, positioned the ashtray in front of Evie and handed her the lighter.
She took it and maintained eye contact with him. ‘I forgive you.’ She smiled earnestly and blinked, then set fire to the green envelope.
But Ted noticed the side of her mouth twitch as the paper was consumed.
‘Don’t get your fingers burned.’ Jakob nodded at the envelope.
But Evie held it for a while longer before letting what little remained float down into the ashtray.
‘That’s you off the hook, Jakob,’ Orla said flatly. ‘Put the girl out of her misery.’
‘Or just open it and find out how imperfect everyone is,’ Connor added.
‘Connor,’ Orla growled.
‘I forgot, Evie’s rules.’ Connor emphasized her name.
It struck Ted how painfully aware Orla and Connor were of Evie’s attempts to mend their relationship and just how offended they might be.
Jakob picked up Evie’s peach envelope from the table and turned it over in his hands.
Evie tightened her bottom lip at him, and Ted could see the nervousness in her green eyes. He suddenly felt sorry for her. She had brought the evening down, had made everyone feel uncomfortable, but her heart was in the right place. She wanted Orla and Connor to be happy again, for their sake and their children’s, but this was the ultimate example of her misguided attempts causing more harm than good.
Evie went to pass the lighter to Jakob, but he took a butter knife off the table instead.
‘Jakob.’ When Juliette spoke there was more than a warning in her tone. ‘Don’t.’
Ted knew Jakob would listen to Juliette. He always respected her opinion.
‘This is what happens when you play with fire, Evie. Let’s hope that’s the one take-home you get from this.’
Ted didn’t like the spite in Jakob’s comment.
Jakob put the blade of the knife to the flap of the sealed peach envelope and then grinned at Evie. ‘I forgive you,’ he said melodramatically. He put the knife down, took the lighter from her and set fire to the envelope.
Evie’s face didn’t shift, but Ted could see her shoulders slightly drop.
‘Shit.’ Jakob released the flaming envelope as it reached his fingers.
The paper seemed to burn more intensely than the others and then went out.
‘Looks like Evie’s secret is the hottest,’ Rhys quipped.
Orla didn’t even allow the awkward laughter to subside. ‘Us now then.’ She impatiently extended her hand and Jakob passed the ashtray and lighter. She held Connor’s lemon envelope rigidly between her thumb and forefinger and immediately flicked the flint. It sparked but didn’t work.
‘Looks like Connor’s is fireproof.’
Everyone ignored Rhys.
She hastily spun the flint with her thumb several more times before it lit. Connor’s envelope started to smoke.
‘You’ve got to say it,’ Kathryn reminded her.
She robotically cocked her face to Connor. ‘I forgive you.’
‘Me too.’ Connor leaned across and held Orla’s coral envelope in the same flame.
The guests watched their envelopes feed off each other’s heat. Connor discarded his and then Orla released hers.
‘There. Satisfied?’ But Orla didn’t look at Evie.
Connor broke the silence. ‘Well, it made a nice change from Orla getting me to swear faithfulness to her on my mother’s life. Cheese and port now?’
Ted gently shook his head. It had seriously misfired. The only people that hadn’t been fazed by Evie’s game
were the couple she wanted to fix. It was everyone else who had been tested by it. But his orange envelope still lay in front of Juliette. ‘Let’s get ours out of the way then.’ He reached over and took the ashtray. Orla gave him the lighter. He slid both to Juliette.
She looked up at him with a tiny frown.
Had he seemed too eager? There was a long silence and then Rhys smiled smugly at him. ‘In a bit of a hurry, Ted?’ He twisted off the lid of the wine bottle.
Ted nodded at Juliette’s lavender envelope in front of him. ‘I’ll do yours first, if you like.’ He attempted to sound casual instead of defensive but failed. ‘Let’s just get this finished.’
‘OK.’ But Juliette sounded far from it.
Everyone’s eyes were on him. ‘And I don’t think we should drink anything more, Rhys,’ he deflected. ‘Evie’s game hasn’t exactly put everyone in the best frame of mind.’ Ted picked up Juliette’s lavender envelope and studiously examined it. ‘Mine or yours then?’
‘I’d better do yours,’ Juliette stated coolly and seized the lighter.
‘Dad!’ Georgie shouted from upstairs.
From the tone in his voice, it didn’t sound like an emergency. Ted waited and Juliette raised her eyebrows.
‘Dad!’
‘You’d better go.’ She hadn’t lit the envelope.
As he lingered he looked at everyone’s perplexed expressions.
‘Dad!’
‘Perfect timing.’ He tried to sound jovial. ‘Back now.’ Ted rose and made for the hallway door.
‘Wait,’ Juliette said.
He turned and her eyes fell on the lavender envelope in his hand. It contained her secret. Had she thought he might read it in private? He set it on the table and walked leisurely from the room, resisting the temptation to tell them not to do anything without him.
Only as he mounted the stairs did he hear the buzz of conversation begin again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘You smell funny, Dad,’ Georgie said after he’d been tucked back in.
Ted had just kissed the side of his head. ‘It’s just grown-up drinks.’
‘Are your teeth black again?’ Georgie kept his eyes closed.
‘Probably.’ Ted wondered what was going on downstairs.
‘What time is it?’
‘Way past sleep time.’ Ted squinted at his watch. It was gone midnight. ‘We’ll be coming to bed soon.’
‘After you’ve finished playing your games?’
Ted paused. ‘Have you been listening?’ He knew Georgie frequently came halfway down the stairs to eavesdrop on the adults.
‘No. You’re just very loud. You woke me up.’
Ted was sure they hadn’t been making that much noise. The music was off, and Evie’s game had seen to the rest. ‘OK, we’ll try to be quieter. No more getting up though.’
‘Promise.’ Georgie shut his eyes tighter.
Ted paused at the door. ‘You’re not still worrying about your friends?’
‘No. Not thinking about them.’
But Ted guessed Georgie was telling him what he wanted to hear.
‘It’s wine o’clock.’ Georgie must have heard Juliette say that multiple times. ‘Go, Dad.’
‘OK, sleep tight.’ Ted pulled the door shut behind him, wondering if he should have stayed to talk. But this wasn’t the right time and he’d already said they’d discuss it in the morning.
As he made his way back down the stairs he could hear Rhys’s raucous laugh. Hopefully, that was a good sign. He tried to enter the dining room as calmly as possible, but the chatter instantly died down.
Juliette turned from the table as he approached, maternal concern overriding everything else. ‘Is he OK?’
‘Fine. Thought we were being a bit loud.’
Rhys exaggeratedly clapped his hand over his mouth.
Ted walked to his place at the table and sat. Filled his glass, took a sip and gazed around as if he’d forgotten exactly what they were in the middle of. He didn’t look directly at his envelope but could see the orange blur in front of Juliette.
‘I didn’t think you wanted anything else to drink.’ Juliette’s face resumed its earlier suspicion.
‘As everyone else has had a refill …’ He nodded at the others’ glasses. ‘Right. Us then,’ Ted sighed, as if it were a chore. Now he regarded the thankfully sealed envelope in front of Juliette.
Juliette took hold of the lighter and flicked up a flame. She didn’t touch the envelope though. ‘Sure you want me to do this?’ She held the glow at face height so that her blue eyes were either side of it.
Ted shrugged. ‘You didn’t steam it open while I was with Georgie?’ Rhys said something in response, but Ted didn’t hear it.
Juliette’s face remained unchanged, her pupils locked on his and suddenly they were the only two people in the room.
‘OK.’ Juliette eventually glanced down at the orange envelope, picked it up and held the lighter to it. ‘I forgive you.’ But she only looked at the paper as it went up.
Ted wondered how he should react. He was aware of himself slowly nodding, of his stomach muscles relaxing.
Juliette kept her eyes on the envelope as it shrivelled in the ashtray. She scrutinized its blackened form for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen, and then blew the ash into fragments. ‘There, gone.’
Tiny pieces briefly hovered above the table before coming to rest there.
Ted didn’t wait for her eyes to return to his. ‘OK, just yours left.’ He wouldn’t milk the moment as some of the others had.
She put the lighter on the side of the ashtray, gently pushed it over to him and sat back.
Ted took her lavender envelope in one hand and the lighter in the other, holding both over the ashtray. When he refocused on Juliette, however, he found an emotion on her face he hadn’t expected. He’d been anticipating disapproval, a portent of a heated conversation to come, but Ted saw something he rarely did. Juliette looked scared. It unnerved him.
‘I forgive you.’ Ted quickly lit the envelope, as if doing so would also incinerate the fear in her expression. The flames burned between them. He dropped it and as the veil of smoke cleared her countenance changed. She was taking in the other guests now, smiling for their benefit.
‘Any other games?’ Jakob ribbed Evie.
She shook her head, stony-faced.
Rhys chuckled. The atmosphere of the room washed back in, as if all the tension had been blown away, and Ted suddenly felt a chill from the open window behind him.
The guests started chatting again, all except Ted and Juliette.
‘OK, cheese and port now?’ Connor asked impatiently.
Juliette nodded and started to rise.
‘I’ll get it.’ Ted stood faster. ‘I’ll shut this window now we’re done.’ He turned to the pane and sealed it against the darkness outside.
Strained conversation continued as he unwrapped the cheese behind the counter. He contemplated the ashtray on the table and wondered what unspoken moments hidden within four marriages had just been cremated. And even though they’d now been willingly reduced to ash, he was sure Evie’s game had given them more of a presence than they’d had before the eight of them had agreed to play.
CHAPTER NINE
Conversation was perfunctory as Ted and Juliette tidied after their guests had left. Even when most of the dishes were in the washer, the group’s unease still hung about the dining room. They decided to finish clearing up the following day. Juliette blew out the candles and they headed for the bedroom.
Ted listened at Georgie’s door to the sound of his heavy breathing. He nodded to Juliette that all was fine, and they padded into their room.
‘Have you made this year’s payment for the green collection bin yet?’ Juliette asked, as they both brushed their teeth, naked, in the en suite.
Ted sighed. He’d meant to do that a handful of times. ‘Sorry, remind me first thing.’
Juliette nodded but said noth
ing else, her toothbrush angled right to the back of her mouth and toothpaste foam running over her knuckles.
Ted was desperate to discuss Evie’s game. Wanted to reassure Juliette that the sudden apprehension between them was misplaced. He wished he’d put his foot down when Evie had suggested it. But Juliette had been more than OK about participating. Was that because she had nothing whatsoever to hide? But she had written something down. Was it significant or had she just scribbled something minor for the sake of joining in? And why had she looked so scared? They’d both forgiven each other, but now they would think of nothing else until they’d talked about it.
Even though he needed to, he knew this wasn’t the time. Besides, if he broached the subject he’d look even guiltier. He’d been too eager for her to burn his envelope and the whole table had noticed. He should have bided his time like Juliette.
She had a cooler head than him, could keep a secret when it mattered. She’d sprung surprise parties on him for his birthday and, when he’d thought back to the lies she’d calmly told to conceal them, he’d wondered if she’d ever used the same subterfuge to hide anything else. He was a hopeless liar. And maybe that was why she was acting like she was now.
Or was that to deflect her guilt? It seemed inconceivable that she’d been unfaithful to him. Did she still harbour doubts about his fidelity? She’d given him a hard time when they’d first started going out, got quite paranoid that he was seeing someone else. It had seemed like a huge compliment. He’d been so amazed that Juliette had even been interested in him at the time, so the idea she thought he was that in demand was a considerable boost to his self-esteem. That was when she’d tested him and sent him a valentine card from a girl she’d invented, to see if he would tell her about it. He did. He passed.
He considered what he would say if she asked him directly about what had been in his envelope. He would tell the truth, but that sounded easier in his head than in reality. Maybe they’d never have the conversation because neither of them wanted to divulge what they’d written. The best thing to do was wipe the slate clean and move on.
Juliette spat her toothpaste out, gargled and spat again and walked into the bedroom without meeting his eye.
