Family bet 2

He stretched his arms out, as if in apology. 'I offered him a second chance. An opportunity to redeem himself. All he had to do was play a simple game of snakes and ladders but, alas, it was not to be. He didn‘t really try, you see.‘ The Toymaker said this as if it explained everything. 'No stamina for all those ladders, no skill at avoiding the reptilian aspect of the game, either. So, well, he lost. And so, by default, have all of you.‘

There was suddenly something at the back of Mrs Rugglesthorpe‘s mind. A memory of a giant, brightly coloured game board, filled with stepladders and hissing snakes... but it was like a dream from... a long time ago.

Or yesterday.

She couldn‘t be sure, but it struck a chord.

The Toymaker clicked his fingers and from nowhere came a terrible creature made of metal, which walked like a man but made a strange noise with every step - akin to that made by a steam train as it departs a station. In its crude hand it held the chess set LeFevre had brought to the house. There was still only one team. The creature dropped the white pieces to the ground and instantly the far end of the chess-board meadow was filled with them. All were on the correct squares, all were the size of human beings, albeit in the form of traditional chess sculptures.

'You‘ll notice, Mrs Rugglesthorpe, that I appear to have lost my red set. And that is where you come in.‘ He smiled and pointed to her entourage.

Mrs Rugglesthorpe was alone, apart from the Toymaker and her glassy-eyed husband.

The three of them now stood at the other end of the meadow, next to an accurately positioned red chess set that was minus two pieces.

And Mrs Rugglesthorpe wanted to scream.

Both rooks had Eliza‘s face carved into the battlements.

Each knight had its horse face replaced by that of poor Jenkins. And the bishop was clearly Tom the footman. But these weren‘t facsimiles. The faces were moving, contorting as if trying to stretch away from their new bodies.

They were screaming silently.

But before Mrs Rugglesthorpe could do the same, the eight pawns wobbled around to face her. And each alternate one was an identical terrified, painted face of either Elisabeth or Charles.

'Just think,‘ the Toymaker said in her ear. 'Despite your husband‘s inadequacy, the two of you can now achieve your dreams. You are now royalty.‘

And Mrs Rugglesthorpe realised she was towering over her pawns, over her bishops, her knights and her rooks.

Beside her was her king - Henry‘s face staring blankly ahead, unaware of anything.

And she was the queen.

Just as she had always been, ready to battle it out with the white team opposite.

At the edge of her mind she felt sure there was something she needed to think about, something to remember.

No. No, of course not, it was time for a new match.

Time to do as she always had - to play to win for her master.

What else was a red queen to do?

***

Divided Loyalties, Chapter 8