The Last Resort(12)
‘Giles is a naughty boy,’ Scott says with a smirk. ‘That’s all you need to know about that one.’
Giles jumps up from his seat and takes a step towards Scott. ‘Listen, mate—’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Brenda says, cutting him off. ‘I’ll go next. It’s all rather ridiculous, but if we have to play along to get things going, then let’s just go on with it.’ She double-taps the device on her ear and says, with a small flourish, ‘Reveal who I am.’ Then she smiles and turns round to face the blank wall behind her. ‘Ha!’ she says. ‘I knew it was a load of nonsense. I thought I’d try a different command to Giles, and look, it’s not working . . .’
Her voice trails off as Lucy begins to read out what everyone but Amelia can apparently see before them.
NAME: BRENDA CARTER
AGE: 50
NATIONALITY: BRITISH
CURRENT RESIDENCE: SEVENOAKS, KENT, UK . . . DORDOGNE, FRANCE . . . UPPER MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA MARITAL STATUS: DIVORCED. WIDOWED. MARRIED.
JOB: HEDGE FUNDER/VENTURE CAPITALIST
WHY YOU’RE HERE: TO EVALUATE THE FINANCES OF THE GAME.
Everyone stares straight ahead, unblinking. Amelia looks at each of them in turn, sees the minuscule left-to-right movements of their eyes as they read the text on their own projected screens.
Lucy clears her throat and continues.
YOUR GREATEST FEAR: SNAKES
YOUR LAST LIE: YOU TOLD YOUR LATE HUSBAND’S DAUGHTER THAT THE BONDS HE HELD IN TRUST FOR HER WERE NON-VIABLE AND SUGGESTED SHE SELL. YOU MADE A HEFTY PROFIT AND REINVESTED THE MONEY INTO YOUR OWN PORTFOLIO. DID YOU KNOW SHE HAS CANCER?
There is a collective, audible gasp from the room. Brenda’s face is stony; the age lines she’s taken great pains to cover with her carefully applied make-up and subtle use of fillers are harsh now against her pale skin.
‘Absolute nonsense,’ she says, but she won’t meet anyone else’s gaze.
‘See, Tigs?’ Giles says, seeing an opportunity. ‘Hers isn’t true, either. It’s just cruel lies, put up there to unsettle us. Go on, you go next. Bet you it’s a load of rubbish that they come up with for you too.’
Amelia glances over at Lucy, who is clenching and unclenching her hands. Lucy closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them and blows out a long slow breath through pursed lips. She looks rattled. And when Amelia turns her gaze towards Scott, he is frowning, the deep wrinkle between his eyebrows more visible than ever. Only James looks unperturbed, and she wonders if this is nonchalance, bravado, or if he really has no skeletons causing him any worry.
She leans back into the cushions and stares up at the ceiling. What might the game reveal about her? She doesn’t have anything bad in her past. Nothing that immediately springs to mind. Giles’s reveal – assuming from what Scott said and Tiggy’s reaction that it was something about cheating – was fairly innocuous compared to Brenda’s, so clearly there are levels. There will no doubt be something embarrassing that will come out, but it’s not as if she’s intentionally done anyone any harm. Has she? Certainly nothing that she can remember. But then memories are such a personal thing; everyone recalls events with a slightly different tinge.
Lucy breaks the silence. ‘Perhaps we should get outside and start exploring this place,’ she says, her voice wavering slightly. ‘We can’t just sit in here all day unleashing our dirty wee secrets.’
‘Agreed,’ says Giles. He marches over to the door.
Tiggy moves across the seat towards Brenda, who still looks ashen. ‘It’s all a lot of nonsense,’ she whispers to her. ‘We all know you’d never do something like that—’
‘How do we know?’ Scott says. ‘None of us knows anything about anyone in here.’
‘But it’s so cruel,’ Tiggy says. ‘And what they said about Giles too—’
‘Oh, for—’ Giles swears and kicks at the door. He rattles the handle, then swears again. ‘It’s locked.’ He turns round, his cheeks pink from the exertion. ‘We’re locked in.’
Amelia takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t think we’re getting out until we finish these introductions. Let’s just get it over with.’
‘Fine,’ Scott says, loud enough to make Tiggy jump. ‘I’ll go next, OK? Right . . . tell everyone who I am.’ He stands back and crosses his arms. A moment later, he starts to read.
NAME: SCOTT WILLIAMS
AGE: 35
NATIONALITY: AMERICAN
He pauses. Mutters, ‘Duh,’ before continuing.
CURRENT RESIDENCE: VENICE, CALIFORNIA, USA MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE
‘. . . and ready to mingle.’ He laughs, then when no one laughs with him, he carries on.
JOB: CEO OF NUTRICEUTICALS START-UP
WHY YOU’RE HERE: TO ASSESS THE HOLISTIC HEALTH BENEFITS OF THE GAME
YOUR GREATEST FEAR: EXTREME PAIN
YOUR LAST LIE: YOU PROMISED A WOMAN AT YOUR POP-UP HEALTH STALL IN THE AMERICAS MALL IN WEST LA THAT HER FERTILITY PROBLEMS WOULD BE CURED BY A SERIES OF YOUR NUTRIENT INFUSIONS. FALSE HOPE IS DANGEROUS, YOU KNOW. AS IS EATING TOO MUCH SATURATED FAT.
He shakes his head. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. I hand out leaflets listing the full ingredients. Anyone who wants to believe that these things are genuinely beneficial is just asking for it.’