The Family Game(80)

All eyes turn to me, expectant.

‘Are you happy to play, Harriet? Or would you like to sit this one out? Lila has been removed from the game. It’s perfectly possible for you to be as well.’ There’s something in the way he mentions Lila that makes me suddenly worry for her safety.

‘Yes, I’ll play,’ I say conclusively, as if I ever really had a choice. The rest of the gathered faces fizz with a new kind of excitement.

‘Now we’re talking,’ Oliver grins.

‘Then it’s decided,’ Robert says, clearing his throat, a glimmer of triumph in his tone. ‘Harriet plays, like everyone else. In which case, you should hear a bit more about the game you’ll be playing, Harriet. Your first card will be a riddle, and it will lead you to the next. There are three clue cards in total, with the third location holding your Christmas gift. It is a traditional treasure hunt in that respect. You may have played similar games before, but this version is slightly different. In our game, the prizes are tailored specifically to the needs of each player. Would anyone care to explain, by example?’ The room around me goes silent, smiles fading with discomfort.

‘No, I didn’t think so,’ Robert continues. ‘You see, Harriet, the gifts involved are extremely personal, and always very timely. They are things that the receiver may need badly but may be unable to achieve unaided. Sometimes they might not even know they need them, or that anybody else is aware of their need.’ I tense at his words; the thought occurs that somehow my secret will be involved in this game.

Robert elaborates, his focus now entirely directed at me. ‘To save the blushes of those in this room, I will use Great Uncle Nelson as an example of how the game works.’

Stuart snorts out a laugh which Eleanor quickly shushes.

‘Great Uncle Nelson,’ Robert continues, my discomfort rising, ‘had something of a gambling addiction. Perhaps Stuart finds my choice of example amusing given its simplicity, but I think it sums up the game’s core drive. In 1969, Nelson Holbeck’s Christmas Eve gift was the complete erasure of his debt, professional and personal. Nelson had accrued over three-quarters of a million in backroom poker debt as well as significant losses through bad investment. If he had won the game that year, he would have had all his debts paid off in full by the family, his balance sheet balanced.’

Robert falls silent.

‘But what? He didn’t play?’ I ask, eyes surveying the silent Holbecks. ‘Or, he couldn’t solve the clues and find the present?’

‘Oh, no. Nelson played,’ Robert answers. ‘He played his heart out. But he lost. You see, someone else won that year, and there is only one winner. We play against each other. It’s a family game. Whoever gets to their present first wins and the game stops.’ He pauses, waiting for his words to sink in. ‘One winner, one gift. No one else receives theirs, and the winner is told what the other players’ gifts were – what each other player needed more than anything in the world.’

‘But how could you possibly know what people need?’ I ask with a lightness I realize we are long past.

‘There are ways to find these things out. I think you might have an inkling how. We do our research – all in the service of picking the perfect gift, you understand?’

I look at the benevolent faces around me and realize this game, its cruelty and its indulgence, is normal to these people. Even to Edward.

‘Okay, I buy it,’ I reply grudgingly, after a pause. ‘But what then?’

‘The winner can use their newfound information in any way they see fit. Whoever won in 1969 could have helped old Uncle Nelson, or, at the very least, they could have kept his embarrassment to a minimum, but they chose otherwise. If you win, Harriet, you win what you need most and the knowledge of what everyone else needed. But if you lose, you lose what you need most as well as the secret of that. I think you’ll agree, the stakes are high. So, we all play to win here, because we know everyone else will be.’

I look at the other players then back to Robert before choosing my words carefully. ‘You think you know what I need?’

‘You’ll have to play to find out, won’t you?’ he replies, with a degree of kindness.

Edward puts a hand on my leg in reassurance.

‘You don’t have to play,’ he reiterates. And I suddenly wonder what on earth Edward could have to gain from playing this game.

I turn to the rest of the family. ‘But, I mean, why would any of you want to play this? How is it even a game? I mean, it’s meant to be Christmas, for God’s sake! Isn’t it all a bit…’ I struggle for a word to describe what this is.

Edward leans in now, taking charge. ‘Okay, why doesn’t Harry just sit it out this year? Considering everything,’ he says lightly, gesturing in the direction of my stomach, ‘it might be worth taking the stress out of her first Christmas with the family. She can play next year – if she wants.’

Robert looks across at me expectantly. ‘Would you like to skip this year, Harriet?’

It’s not a question.

‘No, I would not,’ I answer by rote. ‘I’ll do it. I just, I don’t get how it’s a Christmas game, that’s all. I mean, where’s the Christmas spirit?’

Robert sips his scotch and perches on the arm of a sofa with an amusing smile. ‘What could be more in the spirit of Christmas than offering everyone in the family a chance to do the right thing? Whoever wins has the opportunity to act with kindness as much as greed, you see? You choose. The game gives us a chance to rebalance the scales, once a year, to rectify the power balance in the family. It reminds us that we must be good to each other all year long or risk the consequences if the tables are turned.’ He breaks off, Eleanor topping up his glass. ‘But, as Edward rightly says, it is just a game. No one gets hurt here; by the end there are just bruised egos, some damaged pride, and it has always meant a lot to those who play it. The only reason you might have to fear the game is if you have something to hide. Do you have something to hide?’