Free Lucia Triumphant by Tom Holt Page B

Mayoress had come to help, not to destroy. But this illusion was swiftly shattered.
    â€˜ There now,’ she had cried, ‘that’s that finished. I do think we might stop for a moment, Lucia, and have a little rest. We shall work all the better for it afterwards.’
    The break had lasted until lunch-time, and the soup and sandwiches were quickly eaten. But before Lucia could order resumption of the task Elizabeth had produced apparently from thin air (Lucia could have sworn she did not have it with her when she arrived) the accursed Monopoly set, and play had begun at once. The rattle of the dice and the excited cries of the players had driven her from the room; when she returned she found Georgie sitting at Elizabeth’s side, watching with rapt attention and expressing heartfelt admiration for her tactical skill and foresight. That he should have succumbed to temptation surprised her not at all, for she knew her Georgie. But the speed of his capitulation disappointed and wounded her.
    The game had continued all afternoon and almost until evening, when finally Elizabeth, with pretty words of commiseration to her victims, rose the winner and swept the pieces back into the box. But there was no sulking or bad feeling, such as might follow a game of Bridge, only a general feeling of catharsis; the battle had been hard but fair, and the best player had won. As if to compensate her opponents for their defeat, Elizabeth broadcast invitations to dinner at Grebe. It was only with difficulty that Lucia herself avoided accepting, for Georgie was most keen to go. There would be Monopoly before and after the meal and tactical talk during it, for Elizabeth had declared that she would open the treasury of her experience of the game to all the novices, and Georgie was convinced that he would be at a great disadvantage were he not to be present. As a result he had been sullen and uncommunicative at dinner and had not seemed to hear any word she spoke about the Tapestry, even though she was careful to praise his quite shoddy work during the day. No one had turned up next morning to resume the project, and at half-past ten she heard Georgie gabbling away in a loud whisper on the telephone. Shortly afterwards he muttered something about seeing where everyone had got to, seized his cavalry cape and an old hat and bolted out of the front-door like a startled rabbit.
    Having cast her net Elizabeth resolved to keep her fish firmly within it. Monopoly would be carefully rationed, and play would take place only in the afternoons on alternate days. She knew the craze could not last for ever; Tilling crazes seldom saw out the month and frequently died away within the fortnight. But she was determined to wring the last possible drop out of this one, and still be the first to drop it when it showed signs of becoming tedious. With this in her mind she had gone to the stationer’s and bought up the entire stock of sets—four—to ensure that no one else could get possession of one and start up a rival school. Monopoly, she felt, must mean just that.
    It had been fortunate, to say the least, that Elizabeth’s finances had compelled her to select that particular hotel in Southampton while waiting to hear the worst from the garage. As an hotel it had left a lot to be desired, and her feelings on seeing their room had not been at all joyful or optimistic. There had been dust everywhere, and the thought that this might be a useful topic to pursue in the forthcoming negotiations over the bill prompted her to take a chair and examine the top of the wardrobe. There she found a red and white box, evidently left behind by some previous occupant of the room; a family, perhaps, whiling away the hours before they caught their ship. She opened it idly and almost at once realised the potential of the game. Since there was nothing else to do she sat down on the bed and laid out the board, cards and imitation money and began to study the