Page 40 of The Retreat

By 3:07 p.m., Imogen had grass stains on her arse and the distinct sense that this retreat was a psychological experiment designed to test the outer limits of her patience.

She was halfway across a large lawn, knees bent, biting down on the handle of a plastic spoon. Balanced on said spoon was a large, raw egg.

‘Faster!’ Talia shouted, calling to her from the spot at which the egg was meant to be transferred to relay partners. ‘Come on, we’re going to lose to Jade and Peter. Do you want that on your conscience?’

Imogen tried to reply, but her mouth was full of spoon. She just grunted and tried not to laugh, which made her jaw wobble, which made the egg wobble, which made Talia shriek, ‘Easy!’

Imogen reached Talia as Peter was attempting to transfer his spoon to Jade with a look of existential horror in his eyes. Jade, a bit overexcited to be winning, fumbled and dropped the egg with a splat.

‘FUCK!’ she cried, enraged.

‘Disqualified,’ Talia declared as she took the egg from Imogen quickly.

But a demented-looking Daniel was coming up quickly, transferring to Lara. Lara took the egg and began to wobble off with it.

‘Go!’ he cried after her.

‘Mmm mm gonnng,’ Lara managed angrily.

Imogen watched Talia veering left. ‘Talia! You’re drifting!’

Talia tried to correct, but not before knocking over a trestle table full of coconut water. The egg remained miraculously intact, and Talia carefully stomped her way across the finish line, passing Lara in the final moments.

‘Yes!’ Imogen cried, running forward to join Talia for a victory high five.

‘They cheated!’ cried Daniel as Lara took second place.

‘How?’ Talia demanded.

‘That egg has to be glued!’

Imogen leaned over and removed the egg from the spoon Talia was holding. Several people crossed the finish line, but no one paid them much attention. Not with Daniel’s tantrum to watch.

‘No way. She fell, and it stayed on,’ Daniel insisted.

‘I’m just graceful!’ Talia snapped. ‘I was able to correct.’

‘It doesn’t make sense!’ Daniel said with a little foot stamp.

Celeste came over the finish line, holding a broken egg, yolk down her forearm. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked Daniel.

Lara appeared next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it. He suppressed a wince.

‘Sorry, his school was a bit overly competitive, and this sort of thing could get a bit heated,’ Lara explained.

‘They had egg and spoon races at Rugby?’ Talia asked.

‘I went to Harrow!’ Daniel said, incensed.

‘Is that a big deal?’ Imogen asked.

‘Harrow is the top school in the country,’ Daniel told her.

Talia side-eyed Daniel. ‘Well, I went to Bleakridge Comprehensive School, if we’re bragging. It had a Latin motto, but no one knew what it was because the sign got nicked in ninety-eight.’

Imogen snorted into her hand. Celeste was grinning too.

‘Well, Harrow Boy, I’m afraid that today, you’ll have to be content with second place,’ Celeste told him.

Daniel clamped his jaw shut. He was fucking furious. Talia was euphoric.

***

Talia was lying flat on the grass. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, and there was a crooked, slightly smug smile on her lips. Imogen sat next to her, subtly watching her.

‘Good job,’ she said with a smile.

Talia turned her head to look at her. ‘Same to you. You’re actually good at this.’

Imogen squinted at her. ‘What, transporting eggs via mouth?’

‘No. I mean…’ Talia faltered, then shrugged. ‘You’re... fun.’

‘Oh. Thanks,’ Imogen said, not quite meeting Talia’s eye.

Following that was a quiet that lasted a second too long. Imogen’s nerves couldn’t deal with it. ‘So, no fancy school for you?’ Imogen asked quickly.

Talia sat up. ‘God, no. My dad is a bus driver, and my mum is a nurse, so private school wasn’t a conversation that was ever had in my house.’

‘Really?’ Imogen said, further surprised.

‘What?’

‘You just seem… I thought you seemed comfortable with wealth.’

Talia looked at her. ‘Nope. I’m just your classic poor overachiever.’

‘Yeah, me too. I mean, not the overachiever bit. Obviously. But I nailed the poor bit.’

Talia gave a shy little laugh. ‘You know, before I saw where you lived, I assumed you came from money,’ she admitted.

Imogen laughed. ‘Oh, thanks a lot.’

‘Sorry, it’s not… It’s a nice place. I mean, you made it nice.’

‘Not really.’ She paused. ‘Why would you think that I came from money?’

‘The art world… lots of pretence, lots of money.’

Imogen nodded. ‘True. Not me, though. That job at the gallery was the only paid work in the art world I ever had.’

‘I didn’t realise that,’ Talia said.

‘Yeah. Took forever to get it. Volunteered wherever I could to get the experience, but the best places wanted people who could commit forty hours unpaid, which I never could. I felt so lucky when…’ Imogen stopped there. She didn’t want to say the accursed name again. ‘When she took a chance on me.’

‘And you couldn’t find anything after the place closed?’

‘Lots of almosts. Always pipped at the post by someone who had more experience, better contacts… So, eventually, I gave up,’ Imogen said with a sad shrug.

Talia frowned. ‘That’s rubbish. I’m sorry.’

‘Just the way the world works.’

‘But Flora could have helped you before she buggered off to Paris. She had contacts,’ Talia pointed out.

‘I didn’t want to ask.’

‘You shouldn’t have needed to,’ Talia said sternly.

Imogen shrugged. Though a lot of things were out in the open now, that didn’t mean she was ready to take sympathy from Talia. ‘The chips fell where they fell. I survived.’

Talia blinked. ‘And then I got you fired from paid work.’

Imogen laughed. ‘Yes, you did.’

Talia paused. ‘I’m…’

‘Don’t say you’re sorry. I don’t deserve that.’

Talia was taken aback. Another heavy silence hung in the air. ‘Right,’ Talia said abruptly, sitting up and brushing bits of grass from her shirt. ‘Next up: three-legged race.’

***

‘Seriously?’ Imogen said, staring at the zip tie in Talia’s hand. They had a little distance from everyone else, and Imogen needed to vent.

‘We’ve got this,’ Talia said, smiling tightly. She crouched and began tying their ankles together.

Imogen watched the deft movement of her fingers. ‘Why would they make corporate lawyers do this? What is to be gained?’

Talia tightened the zip tie with a couple of clicks. ‘Please don’t ask for logic and good sense this weekend. It has clearly been left in the city,’ she sighed. Then added as an afterthought, ‘Plus, I think the timing of this retreat isn’t random. I’m pretty sure it’s one long job interview. Daniel and I are being tested.’

‘That’s mad,’ Imogen said with mild horror.

Talia shrugged. ‘Maybe. But it is what it is.’

‘Wait…’ Imogen began reflectively. ‘If this is all a big competition between you and Daniel, then why is it so focused on spouses and partners? You don’t find that weird?’ Imogen asked, eyebrow up.

Talia checked the zip tie’s tightness and found it satisfactory. ‘The place was built by a family, the Monroes. Celeste is one of them. They’re obsessed with us being functional humans with social lives. ‘

‘I thought lawyers were supposed to work all hours and sacrifice their private lives?’ Imogen mused.

‘Yes, they want that as well,’ Talia said cheerfully.

‘How does that work?’

‘It doesn’t,’ Talia told her. ‘Why do you think you’re here?’

They stood, wobbly and close. Too close. Talia’s shoulder bumped Imogen’s. Her breath was warm against Imogen’s cheek.

‘Left leg first,’ Talia murmured.

‘I always lead with my right,’ Imogen said.

‘Relationships are about compromise,’ Talia said dryly.

Imogen gave her a rueful smile.

‘Ready?’ Rebecca yelled, and they moved awkwardly to the start line with all the other teams. ‘Set. Go!’

They made it maybe six hops before disaster struck. Talia caught her foot on the grass, lurched, and Imogen instinctively grabbed for her. Which meant, of course, that they both went down. Hard.

Imogen landed half on top of her, chest to chest, nose to cheek. For one suspended second, no one moved.

Talia muttered, ‘Sorry.’

And Imogen, to her immense surprise, found herself replying, ‘Anytime.’

Talia laughed nervously.

They disentangled themselves and climbed to their feet awkwardly. Everyone was ahead of them. ‘I don’t think we can win,’ Imogen told Talia.

‘I’m past caring,’ Talia said. ‘Come on, let’s just finish.’

And they hopped across the finish line, laughing.

‘What’s next?’ Imogen asked.

Talia checked her laminated schedule. ‘Tug of war,’ she said with a sigh.

‘For god’s sake,’ Imogen said. But she didn’t mind. She was having fun.