The Family Game(74)
The thing about us orphans is we find it incredibly hard to relinquish control, don’t we? If we want a thing done, then we do it ourselves. I would not expect you to take my word on anything, least of all the veracity of what I am telling you. Just as I would never take you at your word, my dear Harriet, at least not yet. We both have much to prove to one another. Perhaps we will get there. Perhaps we will not. Time will tell.
But, again, I digress.
As I’m sure you have gleaned, it is wise to be wary of my whole family at this stage. I know your past; I will continue to keep an eye on who and what comes in and out of your life. But I am not the only one who may have taken this precaution. Other members of my family will always have their own concerns and access to similar resources and perhaps they will not hold you in quite the same esteem as I.
You will be invited, if you haven’t already, to an event at my son Oliver’s house. A family tradition, Germanic as so many of ours are. It’s a child’s game but not so childish if the rules are not known. That is how we play it. You will not know what is real and what is not; it only works on the imagination this way. But whatever you fear, do not fear exposure from me; do not fear the things you have heard on this tape. If you have listened to this tape in its entirety before Krampusnacht, then do not discuss it with me at that house. There are no private places there; everything is seen. Play the game as well as I know you can, because everyone will be watching.
Wait and I will bring you to me. I will bring you to The Hydes. It is there that we will speak and I will ask my favour of you.
People have died, Harriet – not because of blood lust; I think you know that. Necessity is often the only real motive anyone can hold in their head and act on.
You have done things out of necessity – as have I.
You will receive an invitation to The Hydes. Do not be scared; accept it and have faith in the knowledge that I keep those of value close to me.
Here is what I need you to do.
We play a game on Christmas Eve, another tradition from the old country. I’m sure you’re surprised that a family like ours plays so many childish games, but, Harriet, that is the common misconception about the nature of games. Games take us as close as acceptable to the strategies we use in life. Games reveal our most base instinct: the instinct to survive. Under the mask of enjoyment, we reveal ourselves, we reveal how we play at life, our methods, how we navigate others’ strengths and weaknesses.
A game is only a game if you do not fully understand it. We play as we live. And I want you to play a game with me, Harriet. The stakes will be high but there is everything to play for.
The game begins at 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve, and it is a treasure hunt. Edward will want you to sit it out, or to play with him. He will try to shelter you from us, but you must play and play alone. We all play alone.
Each player will have a present waiting for them at the end of their hunt, and clues which will lead them there. Follow your clues, watch your back, and when you find what I hope you will find, all will be revealed. I have no doubt that everything will come together in your mind before you reach the end.
If you have listened to this recording by the time we meet at The Hydes, I would ask you to show me a sign. There will be flowers in your room. Wear one to supper and we will understand each other. Until then: good luck, Harriet.
Oh, and a point of interest: my children no longer sleep in their childhood bedrooms. Those old rooms are kept just as they were. Eleanor wanted to have them cleared, but I like the memories. It might be worth taking a look if you’re interested. You can tell a lot about a person from the mess they leave behind.
39 The First Night
Friday 23 December
The tape clicks off. I fast-forward, hoping for more – more explanation, more anything – but there’s only the crackle of virgin tape. Robert is gone. That is all I get.
It’s clear I should have listened to the tape long ago. Before Krampusnacht, and well before I arrived here. Robert must have assumed I’d listen to it the day after he gave it to me. I would have had so much more time to try to decode it if I had, but life got in the way.
I rewind the tape and press play again, carefully recording Robert’s list of names onto my phone. I may have lost the whole first half of the cassette, but I still have the list of dead girls. It might just be enough to save me. Once the recording is finished, I email it to myself. It should be waiting on my laptop back at home. If anything were to happen to me out here, the trail is laid and it will lead straight back to Robert Holbeck.
Edward doesn’t get back to the room until after the tape player is finished and packed away, my work done.
He’s finalising things with Hong Kong, signing off on the little details still remaining. And he had a beer with Oliver. I smell the sweet hops on his breath.
‘What have you been up to?’ he asks.
I give him the same pregnancy excuse I gave his mother and his hand flies to my head solicitously to check my temperature.
‘I’m fine, Ed. It’s just been a long day.’
He holds my gaze as if to test the truth of my statement and, seemingly satisfied, removes his hand. ‘Well, luckily, we’re skipping the family dinner tonight. Dad’s in the middle of something.’
I stop breathing entirely, my eyes trained on Edward. ‘No family dinner?
‘Well, we’ll eat, just not altogether. God knows what he’s in the middle of. But we’ll see everyone at dinner tomorrow anyway. He can’t avoid Christmas entirely.’