The Game Read online

  The Game

  By Cherie Mitchell

  The Game by Cherie Mitchell 2019 © All Rights Reserved

  Author’s Note

  The idea for this book came after a discussion with a friend on the subject of deep, dark secrets. My friend and I concluded that most people have one or two - in varying degrees. So I started thinking… what would happen if I gathered a group of women together who had known each other for years, and what would happen if one of them divulged a secret that had possibly dire consequences for the entire friendship group? If you were one of that group, what would YOU reveal?

  And so The Game began…

  I hope you enjoy this book. As with all of my psychological thrillers, I veer away from blood, gore, and bad language and concentrate instead on personality disorders, relationship break ups, characters who tie themselves into knots by thinking too much or doubting themselves, and the page-turning thrill of a domestic mystery.

  My characters are women who most people can relate to and whom you might have met at the school gates, in the doctor’s waiting room, at a fundraising event, or at a dinner party.

  ***

  Look out for my other books in this genre – The Life Thief, The Apartment, The Dare, The Keeper of Secrets, The Will, and The Ticket.

  ***

  This is a work of fiction. All places, people, and situations described within are purely a figment of the author’s creative storytelling.

  Happy reading! Cherie

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter One

  Bree bundled the warm clothes out of the dryer and carried them through to the living room to dump in a haphazard pile on the sofa. Addison, her beautiful redheaded daughter and the joyous result of a too young and too hasty marriage to Bree’s first husband Daniel, tossed a disgruntled frown in her direction and shifted herself sideways on the cushions, moving away from the pile of clean laundry. The teenager’s gaze immediately returned to the phone in her hand and her fingers flew across the tiny keyboard.

  Bree picked up one of Harry’s business shirts from the pile and flapped the garment in the air, purposely whisking the sleeves across the top of Addison’s head to ruffle her hair. “Who are you texting?”

  Addison grunted in response and kept typing.

  “Don’t go inviting anyone over while I’m away,” Bree warned as she folded a pair of Addison’s impossibly small panties and set them down on the arm of the sofa. “Harry has a fun family weekend planned for you and Jackson. It’s going to be just the three of you.”

  Addison groaned loudly. She dropped her phone down into her lap and flung her head back against the headrest in a dramatic display of teenage angst. “But Jayde and me were going to have a Netflix binge.”

  “Jayde and I. I’m sure your Netflix binge can wait until next weekend. Harry’s been looking forward to spending a few days with the pair of you.” She picked up Jackson’s Batman t-shirt and checked that the logo on the front hadn’t cracked in the dryer. She glanced at her son, who had his nose pressed up close to the TV screen and was staring with animated wonder at a loud, vibrantly colored cartoon. “Move back from the screen, Jackson. You’ll hurt your eyes if you sit too close.”

  He didn’t move away and he didn’t turn to look at her. “My eyes don’t hurt.”

  “Jackson.”

  He sighed and wiggled back a scarce two inches on his bottom without taking his eyes off the screen.

  “I’m going to be so bored,” Addison complained. “Five days with a six-year-old and Harry will do my head in.”

  “You have school on Friday. Harry has plenty of fun activities planned for you all on Saturday and Sunday, and you’ll be at school on Monday and Tuesday. I’ll be back Tuesday afternoon.” Bree leaned across to press a kiss into Addison’s hair but she sullenly pulled her head away. “Don’t, Mom.”

  Bree pursed her lips and said nothing, telling herself that moodiness was only to be expected when you were dealing with teenagers. Addison wasn’t a bad kid, especially when compared with some of the horrifying teenage stories that cropped up so often on the news, and there was quite a distance between the interests of a fifteen-year-old and a six-year-old. Harry would make sure that they both had fun and Bree could get on with the important business of enjoying five whole, glorious days away with five of her girlfriends – all of whom she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with lately.

  She grinned to herself as she folded the rest of the laundry. They had been planning this girls’ trip away for months now, this rare chance to take some time away from their jobs, families, and responsibilities to enjoy a Fall sleepover in the woods. Not that they would be roughing it, of course. Imogen’s uncle owned a ‘cabin’ by the lake that was grander than Bree and Harry’s house in the suburbs and he was generously allowing the women to use it for their long weekend getaway.

  She glanced at the clock as she carried the folded clothes through to the bedrooms. Harry would be home soon, ready for dinner after his day as a project manager for a construction firm, and Imogen had promised to call before the dinner hour to go over the last minute details. High-flying Imogen was in New York City for a business meeting and she would fly back at lunchtime tomorrow before driving out to the cabin. Bree and her best friend Collette, or Collie as everyone called her, would drive out there together tomorrow morning to freshen the cabin up after a few weeks of disuse before the others arrived.

  Bree sat Jackson’s pile of clean t-shirts on top of his dresser, wrinkling her nose at the vague odor of bananas in his room. She opened the drawer to stack the t-shirts inside while looking around for his schoolbag. Jackson had a gross habit of eating only half of his banana before dropping it into the depths of his bag instead of returning the leftovers to his lunchbox.

  “Mom! Your phone is ringing!”

  Bree grabbed Jackson’s bag from the end of his bed, half-hidden beneath the folds of his Batman bedcover, and hurried through to the kitchen. Imogen’s smiling face flashed up with her Caller ID as Bree answered the call and switched it onto loudspeaker. “Hi, Imogen.”

  “Hey, you.” There was the sound of running water in the background of and Bree wondered if Imogen was preparing a luxuriously hot bath for herself in the quiet comfort of her hotel room. Some people had all the luck.

  “I can’t wait until tomorrow! I’ve been looking forward to it all day. It’s been just about the only thing that’s carried me through.” Bree opened Jackson’s bag and stuck her hand inside, grimacing as her fingertips plunged into something suspiciously soft and mushy. The banana smell intensified.

  “You know where the key is, right? Under the third plant pot on the right side of the cabin if you approach it from the front.”

  “Yes, I have it written down with the address.” She dropped the brown mess into the trashcan and switched on the faucet to wash the sticky yellowish goo from her fingers. “What time do you think you’ll be there?”

  Imogen yawned into the mouthpiece. “I dunno. Maybe around 3? Make sure you have the wine in the chiller and something by Nick Drake on the stereo for me. I’m going to be ready to reee-lax by the time I get there.” The sound of running water had stopped now and Bree imagined Imogen casually tossing a handful of expensive bath crystals into the tub before walking out to the mini bar to pour herself a glass of wine. Childless Imogen had a life that Bree could only dream of.

  “Ha, you can count on it. Collie has been out buying the supplies today.” The friends had opted to pool their funds and buy shared provisions for the weekend. They would also share cooking and clean up duties, ensuring everyone could enjoy some time off from the dullness of chores.

  “Collie? I hope she’s remembered that we aren’t all vegetarians like her.” Imogen said ‘vegetarians’ as if it were some newly discovered disease.

  “Of course she has. I phoned an order through to the butcher and all she has to do is pick it up. Don’t worry, Imogen, you’ll have your red meat.”

  “Red meat.” Imogen sent a growl down the phone. “You really should try this keto diet. You can have wine and you can eat red meat, bacon, eggs, and cheese until your soul is content.”

  “And your arteries collapse,” Bree said drily. “You don’t need to diet anyway. You always look gorgeous.” Imogen did always look gorgeous. She was a tall woman with voluptuous curves in all the right places and she kept her skin toned and fabulous with frequent
visits to the salon.

  “It’s a dog eat dog world out there in the corporate world. You either keep up or you lose your place to the next mongrel.”

  Bree heard the clink of glass against glass. Imogen was definitely pouring herself a glass of wine now. Probably champagne. Bree pictured the tiny bubbles bouncing gleefully up to the top of the flute as she frowned in disgust and scrubbed the last few traces of squashed banana from the inside of Jackson’s bag.

  “Is there anything else we need to know? About the cabin?” The cabin was a couple of hours’ drive away from here but that just made it all the more attractive to Bree.

  “I don’t think so. Everything we need is there, aside from the food and wine, and that sounds as if it’s all under control. Uncle Bevan keeps a stack of chopped wood under the cabin and the kitchen appliances all run on gas. He’s one of those manly men who can turn their hand to anything. I doubt there will be any problems waiting for us and I can always call Uncle Bevan to ask for help if there is an issue. We can just chill out and let the peacefulness of the woods wash over us. Fall is always the nicest time to be out there with the changing colors of the leaves and the cooler air, although I haven’t looked at the weather forecast for the area.” Bree heard Imogen pause to take a sip of her drink and she wistfully imagined the ticklish bubbles popping against the end of her nose.

  The garage door rattled up as Harry arrived home. Bree stood up on tiptoes to peep through the curtains. She could see him in the driver’s seat of his truck, staring straight ahead and scowling as the door rolled up. Her heart sank. His meeting with his boss couldn’t have been as successful as he’d hoped. “It sounds fantastic. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I guess you will.” Imogen hesitated. “Is Stella still coming?”

  Bree frowned down at the phone in her hand. “Yes, she’s coming. Why did you think she wouldn’t be coming?”

  “No reason. Bye, Bree.”

  Bree hung up and checked her phone screen. No new messages. She slid the phone across the counter until it came to rest against the side of her handbag. She desperately needed these few days off after the chaos of the past couple of months and she was going to make the most of every single minute of her mini vacation. She intended this break to be as blissful and trouble-free as it could possibly be, a chance for her to recoup and possibly make a few important decisions.

  “Mom!” Addison shouted childishly from the living room. “Tell Jackson to stop throwing cushions at me!”

  She sighed and opened the refrigerator door to look for something for dinner. Tomorrow couldn’t come quickly enough.

  Chapter Two

  Collie screwed up her face and pointed to the chiller pack that she’d stashed in the back of her car. “That meat has tainted my entire refrigerator. The butcher said he wrapped it well but I could still smell it seeping out and contaminating my sprouts and tofu.”

  “Well, I did offer to go and get it,” Bree said briskly. She had no interest in listening to any more complaints, not even from her best friend. Jackson had chosen this morning to get up too early and be a whiny, clingy six-year-old, it had been nearly impossible to pry Addison out of bed to get ready for school, and Harry was still fuming about his aborted meeting yesterday. On top of that, the beginnings of a headache now teased at the back of her eyes, threatening to overflow at the slightest provocation. “Can we get going? If we leave it too late, we’ll be caught in the morning peak hour traffic.”

  Collie squinted into the early morning sun, just visible behind a haze of clouds. “The peak hour starts right about now. The roads were already clogged when I drove over here.”

  “Great. Let’s go.” Bree yanked open the passenger door and swung herself inside, leaving Collie standing by the open trunk hatch. She stuck her head out to hurry Collie along. “Jump in. We’ve got everything.”

  “Are you sure?” Collie looked doubtfully across to Bree’s front door, where Harry was now standing in his boxer shorts and t-shirt and scratching at his uncombed hair. “Did you say goodbye to your family?”’

  “I said goodbye,” Bree said tersely. She slammed the door shut to make her point. Yes, she’d kissed Harry goodbye but his breath smelled bad after his over-indulgence in several cans of beer last night. His apparently pressing need for alcohol was brought on by what he described as a ‘horrendous’ day at work. She’d aimed a kiss at Addison as she passed but her daughter had swatted her irritably away, and Jackson was currently sitting beneath the table chewing his way stoically through a plate of toast and peanut butter while refusing to budge for anyone.

  Collie climbed into the seat beside her and waved gaily at Harry. “Your husband is just the cutest.”

  Bree gave her an annoyed side eye and said nothing.

  Collie turned the key and switched up the volume on the car stereo. “This is it, Bree! We’re on vacation!”

  Bree forced her mouth up into a smile. “Yay.”

  “You could say it as if you mean it.” Collie pulled out onto the street and stuck her arm out the window to wave one last time to Harry. The house with its overgrown front garden, weedy lawn, and rusted mailbox finally moved out of sight.

  “I didn’t bring my water bottle.” Bree could picture it now, sitting where she’d left it on the counter beside the fruit bowl overflowing with Jackson’s beloved bananas, forgotten in her rush to get out the door and away from her family.

  Collie didn’t slow down. “You can use mine,” she said cheerfully. She pointed to the bottle lodged into the holder on the console. The label was peeling off and the water level reached only halfway up the plump transparent sides. She saw the look on Bree’s face and poked out her tongue. “Don’t make that face. We always used to share our water bottles back in elementary school.”

  “That was before we knew about the consequences of sharing germs.”

  “Bree…”

  “Ok, ok. I’m sorry.” Bree exhaled and wound down her window just enough to let in a sliver of fresh air. “I’m trying to find my inner Zen but everyone decided to start a war against me this morning.”

  “It’s all behind you now,” Collie soothed. She turned the stereo down a notch, reducing the volume of Beyoncé’s vibrant ballad to womanhood to a more listenable level. “Is Stella still coming?”

  She’d forgotten to pack something, she was sure of it. Her toothbrush? Her pajamas? “Imogen asked me the same thing. Why wouldn’t Stella be coming?”

  Collie shrugged. “You know what she’s like. She’s not all that reliable and she has pulled out at the last minute before.”

  “We’ve never had a weekend away like this before. We’ve never all been together for this length of time before. This will be the first girls’ weekend I’ve had since before Harry and I were married, which is almost unforgivable.” Bree stooped to pick her handbag up off the floor to search for some Tylenol. She was not going to start this weekend feeling unwell. These five days were a well-earned slice of freedom and a headache was definitely not on the invite list.

  “You know what I mean about Stella. She didn’t turn up at Lily’s birthday and she missed our weekend planning lunch last week. You must remember how upset Lily was about the birthday. She said she felt as if Stella had purposely let her down.”

  “Imogen didn’t come to the planning lunch either,” Bree pointed out. She palmed a couple of the tablets and swished them down with a gulp of water from Collie’s bottle. “I think Stella was sick on the night of Lily’s birthday.”

  Collie twisted her mouth and tutted. “You always come to her defense.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? She’s my friend. I thought she was your friend too.”

  Collie opened her mouth as if to say something but she quickly shut it again. Collie was one of those naturally thin and angular women, with jutting elbows and kneecaps and a pointed nose. She wore her wavy brown hair swept back off her face in a severe masculine style but she managed to get away with it. Her gorgeous eyes carried her through, warm and chocolate brown with extraordinarily long lashes.

  Bree suddenly noticed that something smelled sour and unpleasant and she lowered her nose, moving it closer to her own armpit. Was it her? Had she remembered to use deodorant after her hurried shower this morning?