Chapter Three
Rhys sent Cat a text that he would be working at least until six or six thirty as he was making good progress for the first time in weeks. Cat answered by text that she was glad to hear this and for him not to worry about anything as they were doing well at the cottage.
Perhaps doing well was a slight exaggeration but no one was screaming or throwing things so Cat counted that as a win. But the girls were restless and frankly bored. Cat began going through closets and cupboards looking for something they could do.
In the sitting room, she crouched in front of the old pine cupboard, tugging open doors that groaned like they hadn’t been opened in months.
A faint whiff of dust and wood polish puffed out.
Inside, a jumble of boxes filled one long narrow shelf.
Some of the boxes were relatively new, while others were faded with the corners battered by years of play.
“Let’s see what treasures we’ve got here,” Cat said, brushing off a fine film of dust as Olivia hovered nearby, curious about Cat’s find.
Jillian sat in one of the winged armchairs near the fire, scrolling through her phone as if completely disinterested in what Cat and Olivia were doing.
“Snakes and Ladders,” Cat murmured, drawing the box out and setting it aside. “Ludo … Guess Who…” She reached deeper, fingers closing around a box heavy enough to make her grunt. “Oh, look at this one. Monopoly.”
“Which version?” Jillian asked, glancing up.
Cat turned the box toward Jillian so she could see the lid. The colors were faded, the cardboard soft. “The London edition.”
Jillian sat up straighter, her eyes sharpening with interest. “Mayfair, Park Lane, Old Kent Road. That’s the real one, you know. The British version. They picked all the streets in the 1930s. Waddingtons did.”
Cat was lost. “Waddingtons?”
“Waddingtons were the company that made the UK version. The secretary for Mr. Watson, who was part of Waddington’s, supposedly drove around London in a car for one day, choosing streets.
That’s why Old Kent Road is the cheapest—because it was still pretty rough back then. Mayfair was for the rich. Still is.”
Olivia moved closer to better see the box lid. “Mummy likes to go shopping in Mayfair.”
“She does,” Jillian agreed, looking at Cat for the first time. “Have you ever shopped there? It’s near Hyde Park. Very posh.”
“I do know it,” Cat said. “But don’t purchase much there. I mostly window shop.”
“Because it’s expensive?” Olivia asked.
“Yes, and for the past two years I’ve been a poor graduate student.” But Cat was smiling. “How do you know so much about the game?” she asked Jillian. “I’m impressed.”
Jillian shrugged. “I play it at my friend’s house. And I like to read.”
Cat nodded approvingly. “Even more impressive.”
“I like to read too,” Olivia piped up. “But could we play the game? Jilly, want to play? Will you teach me how?”
Jillian hesitated, her expression sliding back toward coolness, as if she remembered herself. “It’s a long game.”
“We have time,” Olivia said hopefully. She glanced at Cat. “Will you play too?”
“If your sister doesn’t object,” Cat said, lifting the lid.
The smell of old cardboard and a lifetime of Sundays rose up.
Years ago, she’d played plenty of board games with her parents.
Chutes and Ladders. Candyland. And, of course, Monopoly.
They usually played on weekends, Saturday nights or Sunday afternoons after church.
“Let’s go to the kitchen table and see if the pieces are all here,” Jillian said, leaving her seat by the fire to take the game from Cat.
In the kitchen she removed the Monopoly board and opened it on the small round table where they had assembled the cookies earlier in the day.
Jillian carefully smoothed the creased center, trying to make it flat.
The board’s colors were slightly faded, the tokens a mismatched collection of old metal and newer plastic replacements.
Olivia immediately chose the tiny dog. “Can I have this one?”
“Then I’m the top hat,” Jillian declared, taking her piece before rifling through the cards to make sure they were all there. “Looks fairly complete,” she added.
Cat scanned the money and then the collection of small green plastic houses and larger red hotels. “I think most of the game is here,” she agreed before looking at Jillian. “Do you want me to pass out the money, or you?”
“But I don’t know how to play yet,” Olivia cried.
Jillian sighed. “Be patient, Livy. I’m going to explain while Catriona passes out the money.
Here’s how it works. Everyone starts with some money—the money being passed out now.
We all have the same amount, and we take turns going round the board.
When you land on a street, you can buy it if no one else owns it.
You have to decide if you’re going to buy everything you land on, or just certain areas. ”
Olivia frowned. “Why would you buy a street?”
“So you can charge people rent when they land on it,” Jillian explained, matter-of-fact. “That’s how you make money. The more you own—and you want properties with the same color—the more you can build on them. First little green houses, then these red hotels. That’s when you really make money.”
Olivia just looked more confused. “How do you know which ones to buy?”
“I kind of buy everything,” Cat said. “Perhaps not a very sophisticated tactic, but later you can sell or trade property to other players.”
Olivia still looked mystified. “When would I do that?”
“Later,” Cat said, finishing distributing the thin pastel paper money, “after you see what property your sister has, or I have. There might be something you want. But don’t worry about that now. We’ll help you as we go.”
Jillian began sorting her money, organizing it to her exacting standards. “Remember, the point is to make as much money as possible. The winner at the end is the one with the most property and most money.”
“And the loser?” Olivia asked.
“Bankrupt.”
“I don’t want to be bankrupt,” she said quietly.
“No one does,” Cat said.
Olivia slowly drew her money into one pile. “It seems like a mean game.”
Jillian gave a small shrug. “It’s not meant to be nice. It’s about being clever. Like real life.”
They started the game slowly with Cat explaining the rules as needed. Jillian corrected Cat twice—once on how to collect rent, and again when Jillian thought Cat called Mayfair Mayfield.
“It’s Mayfair.” Jillian’s tone was firm, authoritative, for a moment sounding very much like her father. “Named for the May Fair that used to be held there centuries ago. It’s the most expensive property on the board for a reason.”
“I know Mayfair.” Cat gave her a small, mock bow. “I think it’s my American accent that made it sound wrong. In either case, my deepest apologies to the good people of Mayfair.”
For the first time, Jillian laughed, a proper laugh. “You are forgiven. This one time.” And then as if realizing what she’d done, her smile disappeared and her mask dropped once more leaving her expressionless.
They played on. Olivia rolled doubles and squealed, eagerly moving her piece the right number of spaces. Jillian cheered as Olivia landed on King’s Cross Station, which was one of the northern gateways with trains to Newcastle, York, and far away Edinburgh.
Cat watched the girls relax and have fun. They were lovely when being themselves, Olivia bright with curiosity and Jillian warm and confident.
Jillian was good at the game and enjoyed her moves and successful rolls and purchases. She also enjoyed it when Cat didn’t do well and laughed out loud when Cat landed on Go to Jail.
“At least I have the Get Out of Jail Free card,” Cat said primly, “and a sense of humor.”
That earned Cat another reluctant grin from Jillian. For a few turns, it felt almost easy—the kind of domestic, rainy-afternoon calm that could almost fool you into thinking everyone at this table belonged together.
They took a break to eat dinner, the shepherd’s pie having been warming in the oven and then resumed play.
The board was now cluttered with the small green houses, tidy stacks of cards, and rumpled piles of money.
Jillian’s money was not rumpled, and she excelled as the banker.
She even kept a small sharp pencil tucked behind one ear.
“You’re so good at this,” Olivia said admiringly as Jillian replaced her first set of houses with hotels.
“Don’t feel bad,” Jillian answered. “This is the first time you’ve played and you’re doing great. Look at all your houses.”
“In the poor part of London.”
“You’re all right, Livy. Don’t get discouraged.”
They were still playing when headlights cut through the darkness outside. Olivia was yawning more frequently, and the board was covered in hotels, most owned by Jillian, when the front door opened and Rhys entered the cottage.
“Dad’s home,” Olivia said, jumping up.
Jillian froze abruptly before piling her money together and returning it to the bank. “I won,” she said, flatly.
Rhys entered the kitchen, his dark hair damp, his shoulders impossibly broad in the narrow kitchen. “Well,” he said, voice warm with surprise as he saw what they were playing and how the board was red with hotels, “it looks like someone’s been running a real estate empire.”
Olivia grinned and pointed to her sister. “Jilly owns everything! Even Mayfair!”
“Of course she does. She’s strategic,” Rhys said even as his gaze went to Cat. “Everybody have dinner?”
Heads nodded and Jillian cleared the hotels from the board, dumping them into the cardboard box. “May I be excused?” she asked formally.
Rhys frowned as if aware of the change in mood but not sure what was behind it. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.” Jillian practically stormed out, her footsteps heavy on the stairs.
The kitchen felt emptier without her, and after a moment Olivia gave her dad an apologetic smile before following her sister upstairs.