Free Sons Of Fortune by Jeffrey Archer Page B

want Elliot to be president,’ said Nat.
    ‘I don’t think we should tell anyone that,’ said Tom, ‘It may well swing a few more votes to Elliot.’

    ‘How do you think it’s going?’ asked Fletcher as they walked around the lake.
    ‘Can’t be sure,’ Jimmy replied. ‘A lot of the upper-mids are telling both camps that they’ll be supporting their candidate, simply because they want to be seen backing the winner. Just be thankful that the vote isn’t on Saturday evening,’ Jimmy added.
    ‘Why?’ asked Fletcher.
    ‘Because we play Kent on Saturday afternoon, and if Steve Rodgers scores the winning touchdown, we can kiss goodbye to any chance of you becoming president. It’s just a pity it’s a home game. If you’d been born a year earlier or a year later, it would have been an away match, and the impact would have been negligible. But as it is, every voter will be in the stadium watching the encounter, so pray we lose, or at least that Rodgers has a bad game.’
    By two o’clock on Saturday, Fletcher was seated in the stand, prepared for four quarters which would make up the longest hour of his life. But even he couldn’t have predicted the outcome.

    ‘Damn, how did he manage to pull that off?’ growled Nat.
    ‘Bribery and corruption would be my bet,’ said Tom. ‘Elliot has always been a useful player, but never good enough to make the school team.’
    ‘Do you think they’ll risk putting him in the game?’
    ‘Why not? St George’s often field a weak side, so they could leave him out there for a few minutes once they’re confident it won’t affect the result. Then Elliot will spend the rest of the game running up and down the side lines, waving at the voters, while all we can do is stare down at him from the bleachers.’
    ‘Then let’s make sure all our workers are in position outside the stadium a few minutes before the game ends, and don’t let anyone see our new hand-held placards until Saturday afternoon. That way Elliot won’t have time to come up with his own.’
    ‘You’re learning fast,’ said Tom.
    ‘When Elliot’s your opponent, you’re not left with a lot of choice.’

    ‘I’m not sure how it will affect the vote,’ said Jimmy, as the two of them ran towards the exit to join up with the rest of the team. ‘At least Steve Rodgers can’t shake hands with everyone as they leave the stadium.’
    ‘I wonder how long he’ll be in the hospital,’ Fletcher said.
    ‘Three days is all we need,’ said Jimmy. Fletcher laughed.
    Fletcher was delighted to find that his team were already well spread out by the time he joined them, and several boys came up to say they would be supporting him, although it still felt close. He never moved beyond the main exit as he continued to shake hands with any boy over the age of fourteen and under the age of nineteen, including, he suspected, a few supporters from the visiting team. Fletcher and Jimmy didn’t leave until they were sure the stadium was empty of everyone except the groundsmen.
    As they walked back to their rooms, Jimmy admitted that no one could have predicted a tie, or that Rodgers would have been on his way to the local hospital before the end of the first quarter.
    ‘If the vote was tonight he’d win on sympathy. If no one sees him again before Tuesday at nine o’clock, you’ll be the president.’
    ‘Doesn’t ability to do the job come into the equation?’
    ‘Of course not, you fool,’ said Jimmy. ‘This is politics.’

    When Nat arrived at the game, his placards were to be seen everywhere, and all that the Elliot supporters could do was cry foul play. Nat and Tom couldn’t hide their smiles as they took their places in the bleachers. The smiles broadened when St George’s scored early in the first quarter. Nat didn’t want Taft to lose, but no coach was going to risk putting Elliot on the field while St George’s remained in the lead. And that didn’t change until the final quarter.
    Nat shook hands