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That described all of them. Kathryn and Rhys had had their tenth anniversary already and, as they’d all got married the same year, the rest of them would be celebrating this coming summer.
Orla and Connor had two girls, like Kathryn and Rhys. Ted didn’t know how they managed with more than one child. But they’d all felt overpowered by parenthood at various stages, experienced that deep fatigue and the night terrors about their children’s future. Probably because of the girls, Evie had made Orla and Connor her rescue project, and recently even Ted had become concerned about Connor.
Connor had always had a dour sense of humour, but over the past year there had been a marked change in his personality. The flippant glimmer in his eye had gone and he now seemed to go through social occasions with Orla on autopilot. But it was something Connor had said at a pub that had disturbed Ted. Connor had been bemoaning the relentless nature of parental commitments and Ted had responded with a platitude about trying to enjoy the kids when they were young because life was short. Connor had said:
‘Life’s short. But sometimes not short enough.’
It was vintage Connor, but without a trace of his usual playfulness. He just looked worn out. He was an investment broker and brought home a bigger salary than the other couples put together, but Ted guessed that juggling multiple stress balls at work and dealing with a crumbling marriage was the reason he was becoming increasingly withdrawn. Maybe Ted had been reading too much about suicide stats for men their age, but he’d been worried enough to mention it to Juliette. She said that Orla and Connor’s fights had stopped, but that seemed more troubling than anything else.
‘To any couple who feel they’ve amassed too much baggage, the game is designed to expunge guilt and wipe the slate clean for the sake of their futures.’
Ted’s eyes switched to Evie and back to Connor again. His friend’s face was impassive.
‘So what is the game?’ Juliette asked as she poured more red wine from the decanter into the empty glasses on the table.
Jakob nodded he’d have more. He’d just finished his third glass and his ruddy complexion held the tally. He’d already told Evie they’d be getting a cab.
‘Each person in a couple has to write down their deepest, darkest secret on a piece of paper, something that has happened since they took their vows – something they’ve never told their partner about.’ Evie checked their reactions again, gave it a beat to let the tension set in.
Nobody moved. Ted had been about to swallow but now didn’t want to fill the silence.
‘Then they fold the piece of paper, put it into an envelope and give it to their partner.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Jakob responded offhandedly and took a generous swig of his filled glass. ‘Already sounds dangerous.’
Evie turned to him. ‘If you have something to hide.’
‘What if they have nothing to hide?’ Rhys absently stroked his beard.
Evie ignored him. ‘It can be anything, minor or major. Then their partner, without opening the envelope, tells them that they forgive them and sets fire to it.’
‘What about the other’s envelope?’ Juliette filled her own glass.
‘They do the same. Say they forgive them and burn theirs too.’
Juliette’s eyes were fixed on pouring.
‘And what the hell does that achieve?’ Connor sounded bored.
‘It’s symbolic and it means they can move on. Whatever secret they had has been forgiven and destroyed by their partner.’
‘Without them knowing what it was,’ said Rhys warily.
‘It’s a declaration of faith in each other’s future together.’ Evie sipped her wine.
Connor leaned back in his chair. ‘Isn’t that like ten Hail Marys though? I mean, how often do you do this? Every week? Do I simply get Orla to absolve me every time I do something wrong?’
‘That’s already a full-time job.’ Orla didn’t look at him when she said it, just gently stroked the ornate tattoo of a blue-ringed octopus on her forearm.
‘Why do you assume you’re the only one who’s done wrong?’ Juliette asked Connor pointedly.
The three men were briefly tongue-tied.
‘It’s not like a laundry service.’ Evie fingered the stem of her glass. ‘You’re not taking this seriously.’
Was Juliette? Ted noticed she still hadn’t made eye contact with him.
‘And it’s one secret you write down?’ Rhys raised an eyebrow.
Evie sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘So nobody could do a job lot and get them all forgiven and burnt in one hit?’ Rhys glanced at Kathryn.
‘So what happened to just being honest and open with your wife?’ Connor seemed to regret the question before he’d finished asking it.
‘What indeed.’ Orla’s Northern Irish accent was suddenly very thick.
Jakob was shaking his head at his wine glass.
‘You’ve gone very quiet, darling,’ Evie observed.
‘Let people sort their own problems out,’ Jakob said quietly and took another glug of wine. ‘No need to spoil a nice evening.’
Evie frowned theatrically. ‘I’m just telling them about my work colleague.’
Jakob kept his nose in the glass, his eyes rolling.
‘I’d be happy to do it,’ Orla declared. She nodded as attention shifted to her. ‘Why not?’
Ted felt the atmosphere suddenly chill. ‘Nobody here is a qualified therapist.’ He shot a glance to Evie then Juliette, but both were looking at Orla. It felt like the evening was suddenly on shaky ground.
‘I’ll do it too,’ Kathryn proclaimed.
‘So you’ve already thought of something to write down?’ Rhys wasn’t smiling.
‘OK. Why don’t I get some pens and paper?’ Juliette was on her feet.
‘Wait.’
She fixed Ted blankly and it reminded him of how she looked at Georgie with dead-eyed patience when he threw a tantrum.
‘Not everyone’s comfortable with this.’
Juliette looked around the table and Ted followed suit. The other women were obviously keen on the idea. Connor leant back in his chair and languidly raised his hands.
‘Looks like we’ve been set up,’ he said with resignation. ‘We’re damned if we do, but we’re most certainly damned if we don’t.’
Jakob put down his empty glass. ‘Get the paper, if Evie wants to forgive me so badly.’
‘For what?’ Evie tried to read his features.
‘You’ll never know. Your game, remember?’
Ted knew that strait-laced Jakob wouldn’t have played.
‘OK then?’ Juliette smiled at Ted, as if to reassure him that the game wasn’t for them. But when she turned away, Ted saw it quickly vanish.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘You didn’t have to think long either,’ Kathryn remarked icily and flattened her Mallen Streak to her forehead.
Rhys had his fingers cupped around the piece of paper he was scribbling on, his tongue protruding through his beard in concentration. ‘Ouch.’ He shook his aching hand. ‘Can’t remember the last time I had to write anything more than my signature.’ But still he hadn’t finished.
‘You’re going to run out of space in a minute.’ A sly smile tugged at the corner of Connor’s mouth.
Nobody else was joining in. Ted regarded the blank pastel notepaper and empty envelopes that Juliette had placed in front of everyone.
‘Well … I’m not doing this on my own.’ Rhys looked around guardedly at the others.
Nobody put a hand to the pile of pens in the middle of the table. Jakob had his arms folded defensively.
Connor turned to Evie. ‘And this worked for your colleague?’
Evie nodded.
‘How?’ Ted asked.
‘Well, she’s no longer divorcing her husband.’ Evie pursed her lips.
‘Maybe you can invite her along to our next evening so we can compare notes,’ Connor retorted dryly.
‘Yes, it would be good to meet her at last.’ Jakob straightened in his seat but didn’t uncross his arms. ‘What about you, Evie? You started this.’ He raised one fair eyebrow at her.
Evie put down her wine glass.
‘Well, I suppose as my husband is so eager.’ Kathryn eyed the pens.
‘It’s my suggestion. Jakob’s right.’ Evie plucked a pen and started to write on her paper.
‘No thinking time for you either?’ Jakob emptied the remains of the decanter into his glass.
Evie ignored him, finished and folded her piece of paper in half.
‘I’ll get us some more wine.’ Juliette scraped her chair out.
‘Is that a good idea?’ Ted had already counted four bottles opened between them. Another one wasn’t exactly going to improve the atmosphere.
‘Don’t look so worried.’ Juliette began to rise.
‘Hang on.’ Rhys held out his hand to her. ‘You don’t get out of it that easily.’ He folded his piece of paper. ‘I’m done. I’ll get the wine.’ He slid it inside its powder blue envelope and fixed his gaze on Evie. ‘Do we seal them?’
‘I suppose so.’ She slipped hers into her peach envelope.
Juliette settled back in her chair.
‘OK.’ Rhys made a show of licking the edge obscenely while he looked at Kathryn. Then he placed it delicately on the table and thumped it a couple of times with his fist.
As if in retaliation, Kathryn reached past him and snatched up a pen.
‘Shall I select something from the rack?’ Rhys headed to where it was mounted on the wall.
‘Whatever you fancy.’ Ted was watching the glances Orla was throwing Connor.
‘Crack on then.’ Orla nodded at the pens.
‘Then we can change the subject and have some cheese and port?’ Connor seized one.
‘Yes.’ Orla followed suit. ‘God forbid we should talk about anything meaningful.’ Her hand moved across the paper.
Ted suspected it was too late to prevent what Evie had instigated but tried regardless. ‘Maybe we should do this another time. It is getting late.’
Juliette picked up a pen. ‘Come on. We don’t want to be the last.’
‘Very suspicious,’ Rhys chuckled. ‘I wonder what a therapist would read into that?’
When Juliette started writing, Ted began to feel uneasy.
Jakob caught his eye. ‘What if we can’t think of anything?’
Evie bit her lip. ‘You’ll think of something.’
Jakob shook his head. ‘So, there’s obviously something you think I should write.’
‘Whatever you feel guilty about. Could be a small thing, could be a very big thing.’ She let that hang between them for a few seconds. ‘You’ll think of something.’ Evie nodded at the pens.
Jakob sighed, reluctantly grabbed one and started scratching at his paper.
‘We’ve got to have a talk about your wine cellar.’ Rhys peered at the bottle he’d withdrawn from the bottom of the rack.
Ted knew it was a Rhys leftover. ‘Better ones at the top.’
Rhys squinted at them through his specs. ‘If you say so.’
But suddenly Ted realized he was the only person who hadn’t written anything. He looked at the top of Juliette’s silver-grey bob as she concentrated. What could he commit to paper? Not that. He couldn’t put that moment into words, couldn’t physically register what he didn’t even want to think about. Not for the sake of Evie’s stupid party game.
But Juliette had to forgive him for whatever was in the envelope, burn it to release him from guilt. Was he tempted enough to risk giving the secret a physical presence before it was willingly destroyed? No. Think of something else. This was just a silly stunt. He’d drunk too much wine. If they were all sober, they’d all recognize how foolish this was.
Juliette’s pen moved across the paper. What exactly was she writing?
CHAPTER SIX
‘I forgive you, Rhys.’ Kathryn was holding Rhys’s powder blue envelope in her hand. In the other she had a green transparent plastic lighter that Juliette had found.
‘That was pretty convincing.’ Rhys smiled humourlessly.
‘We all have to say it with conviction. Right, Evie?’ Kathryn’s eyes remained on Rhys.
Ted registered that Evie seemed transfixed by the couple facing each other over the table.
Kathryn rasped the flint of the lighter with her thumb and a flame flickered up towards the bottom edge of the envelope. She moved it closer and positioned both over the handcrafted yellow clay ashtray from Portugal that Ted’s parents had brought back for them.
Kathryn touched the flame to the paper, and it started to blacken, but after a few seconds, she extinguished the lighter and bit her lip. ‘I could just open it. What if I do that?’
Evie fingered an auburn lock behind her ear. ‘It’s not allowed. The trust has been placed in your hands.’
Kathryn seemed to enjoy Rhys’s uncomfortable expression. ‘Might be worth it.’
‘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?’