The Family Game(47)

I consider.

‘I really don’t know. But I’m sure she’s fine. You definitely don’t need to worry about her.’ I look at Billy’s little face, his soft blond curls, and I wonder what the hell Fiona was thinking letting him play this game. Then I conjure the image of a three-year-old Edward pissing himself, thirty-five years ago, on some unknown nanny’s hip. What was it Edward said? Character building.

I look around the playroom and I can’t deny it’s cute. Fiona and Oliver clearly care about their kids, in spite of what tonight might make one think.

‘Is this your place, then?’ I ask my little friend.

He splays his hands indicting both indifference and pride, ‘Yeah. My toys.’ He looks thoughtfully around before adding, ‘And Tristan and Sam’s.’

‘It’s nice up here.’

‘Yup.’

I look down at my watch. Thirty minutes have passed already. ‘How long till the game is over, Billy?’ I ask.

‘Not till Ebbergreen.’

I look up abruptly. That can’t be right; it just keeps going indefinitely until then? ‘Are you sure, Billy? It doesn’t stop until someone finds the stick?’

He nods.

‘And how long does that usually take?’

He shrugs. ‘Sam said they stayed up past midnight last time. And only Uncle Edward could find it coz he was a grown-up.’ Lila is, given Milo’s scream earlier, probably already out of the game and I am the only adult left playing.

It’s 9:30 now; I cannot do this until midnight. I’m already exhausted and freaked out, but all that aside, I need a wee now too and I don’t want to have to piss my pants like Billy.

A thought occurs and I scan the room hoping that Billy’s accident might be less of an anomaly and more of a regular occurrence demanding contingency plans. I find what I’m looking for in a corner of the room near a large industrial-looking metal unit. A small wardrobe.

I rise and head over to the wardrobe, Billy following me wordlessly. If we’re staying here until midnight, we’re sure as hell not doing so covered in piss.

The wardrobe is full of costumes. Magician, unicorn, marvel characters, frog, fireman, cowboy and lederhosen.

‘Okaaaay,’ I say, as Billy peeks into the wardrobe beside me and lets out a tiny, world-weary sigh.

He kneels down and pulls open a drawer revealing a fresh stack of clean underwear and socks.

‘Great work, little man. That’ll do for underneath. But what about on top?’

Five minutes later a urine-free lederhosen-clad three-year-old stands before me. I try to stifle a giggle but it’s his anger at the outfit more than the outfit itself that gets me.

‘Stop, Auntie Harry-ep. Not funny. Stupid.’

‘I’m not laughing at you, sweetheart, I prom—’

A knock sounds abruptly from the pink door and we both freeze.

The knock comes again. Billy’s eyes are wide like saucers. But a Krampus wouldn’t knock, would it? And just like that I’m up and across the room, my ear pressed to the pink door. ‘Who is it?’ I whisper.

‘Olivia,’ the soft voice answers.

After a couple of minutes huffing and shuffling, I open a gap big enough for Olivia and Tristan to slip through the doorway and together we all reassemble the barricade.

Once it’s back in place, Olivia turns to me. ‘Have you found it yet?’ she demands.

‘Found what?’

‘The Evergreen.’

‘Um, no,’ I say with slightly more vehemence than anticipated. ‘Wouldn’t this be over if I found it?’

Her face falls. ‘Yeah, but I thought maybe you’d found it and you didn’t know what to do.’ She looks to Tristan, disappointed, then rallies. ‘Where have you looked, then?’

I pause, genuinely considering whether or not to lie to a child, but deciding it’s probably not a great precedent to set. ‘Nowhere. We’ve just been hiding up here.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ She’s disappointed, and I try not to let the shame drown me.

‘To be honest,’ I level with her, ‘I have absolutely no idea what is going on here, Olivia, or what I’m supposed to be looking for. I’m just trying to keep him safe.’ I eye Billy in his lederhosen.

‘Why is he wearing that?’ Olivia begins, before thinking better of it. ‘Never mind. We’ve checked the second and third floor already but we haven’t been up here yet or in the basement.’

‘What about the ground floor, where everyone started?’

‘That’s out of bounds; the only open doors there lead upstairs or downstairs.’

‘Okay, so if it’s not here, it will be in the basement.’

‘Yeah.’

‘And how do you know where to look? Are there clues?’

She looks aghast. ‘Are we the first people you’ve talked to since the game started?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, noting her derision.

‘Oh, okay, I guess that makes sense. It’s you. The clue is your name. It’s always the name of the oldest player. If you’d asked anyone, after the game started, they would have told you the clue is hidden in the letters of your name.’

‘I was supposed to ask someone after—’ I begin but quickly lose the will to continue. ‘Okay, so… The clue to where the Evergreen is hidden is in the letters of my name: Harriet Reed. An anagram?’ I ask.