Dory's Avengers (28 page)

‘Who does Cameron play for, Abi?' asked Lysander.

‘Applethwaite Unsponsored,' Abi replied, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. ‘He's good, Lysander; good enough to play in the top flight, but after what happened to Dad he refused to get Sponsorship.'

‘So there's an unsponsored league is there?'

‘There is indeed. Why not come along and watch the match tomorrow?'

‘Do you know what, Abilene, I'd like that; as long as I don't make the spectators run, screaming, for their homes.'

‘You'll be my guest, Lysander,' said Abi, grinning at Louis's father, still full of pride that her brother had rejected Sponsorship, even though it meant turning his back on a lucrative football career. ‘I'll make sure the locals behave themselves.'

The Saturday before Christmas dawned bright, sunny and cold. Snow had been decorating the fells for a few weeks, but the lower grounds were still clear and the football match was able to go ahead. Lysander woke up with a huge rush of excitement when he contemplated the day ahead, showered hurriedly, then went downstairs where Louis was already getting his kit together.

‘Breakfast, Louis?'

‘Already had it, Dad. I'd be in trouble if I tried to face Gideon's training on a full stomach! You go ahead, though, we've time yet.'

Sarah had elected to take Jenny Christmas shopping that morning, Lysander having secured a gold Sponsor card for Sarah to avoid her encountering any nastiness in the shops. Before heading into nearby Keswick, Sarah went up to fetch Gideon and deliver him to the studio to take Louis's morning
training. Louis, his parents and Abi arrived at the studio just as Gideon was unlocking the door, the young couple sharing a secret smile as they entered the place in which they'd first made love. Gideon, grumpy as ever, rounded on Lysander as soon as they'd all walked through the door.

‘Bit late to take an interest in your son now, Trevelyan, and TURN THE LIGHT OFF! Don't you know it hurts Louis's eyes?'

‘Sorry,' replied Lysander, taken aback at the barrage of abuse and snapping the lights off again. ‘Didn't think.'

‘No, you Sponsors never do. Except about making money, and making people's lives a misery…'

‘Gideon, shall we begin?' Louis interrupted, already in his kit.

‘Hmm. Have you warmed up, Louis? Well DO IT THEN! I'LL BE HAVING TO TELL YOU WHEN TO WIPE YOUR ARSE NEXT!'

Abi and Nicola sat either side of Gideon. They were both totally relaxed in his bad-tempered company, Nicola no longer scared of the ‘Giddy bloke' of whom she'd been so wary in her drug induced stupor. Lysander stood a little apart from the others, hovering awkwardly by the door until Gideon roared at him to sit down and stop cluttering the place up. Warm up exercises complete, Louis offered Gideon an exaggerated bow.

‘What would be your pleasure today, Mr Wallis?'

‘Parallel bars,' growled Gideon.

Lifting himself from the ground, Abi enjoying the spectacle of her boyfriend's arm muscles rippling, Louis performed the routine he and Gideon had been working on for weeks. Although they'd seen Louis train many times before, Abi and Nicola still enjoyed watching every time, so skilful was the young gymnast. However it was Lysander who was enrapt, never taking his eyes from his son for an instant as Louis leapt, twisted and spun at lightning speed. When
Louis landed on the ground with a light thud and perfect balance, Lysander sprang from his seat and applauded.

‘Crap,' said Gideon. As Lysander rounded on Gideon, determined to defend Louis's obvious talent, Louis himself started to laugh.

‘Chill out, Dad; crap means fine in Gideon's world. If he really meant I was crap people would be able to hear him yelling at the other end of the country!'

‘Pommel horse,' snapped Gideon.

An awe struck Lysander continued to watch his son going through extremely complex moves with the greatest of ease as the morning progressed, until finally Gideon called it a day and Louis started his warm down exercises.

‘No training tomorrow, day of rest, do NOT get drunk again Louis!' ordered Gideon, not offering one word of praise for Louis's excellent display of gymnastics. Lysander once again rounded angrily on Gideon, this time getting a chance to speak.

‘Why do you feel the need to be so nasty all the time? I don't know why Louis puts up with you.'

‘Because he's the best,' replied Louis simply, stretching his calf muscles.

‘There was me thinking it was because you liked me,' said Gideon, smiling for the first time that morning before turning his attention to Lysander.

‘I know Louis's good, thank you Trevelyan. I think I'm better qualified to tell than you are. Louis knows that I know he's good, I wouldn't bother to train him otherwise. Louis also knows that I care very much about him. All this is more than anyone can say for you, Mr Sponsor, so if you're going to invade my studio I suggest you learn to SHUT UP!' Thoroughly chastened, Lysander did as he was told.

Once Louis had showered, the whole group headed to The White Lion for a bite to eat and a couple of beers before the football. As usual, members of Dory's Avengers
were having an impromptu practice; this time Matty, Georgie and Dex, while a reluctant Alan served behind the bar.

‘Been training, Louis?' asked Alan, brightening immediately at the sight of his friends. ‘I bet you've got muscles where muscles have no right to be!'

‘Settle down, Al!' said Dex from behind his keyboards, while Abi added, ‘Yes thank you, Alan,
my
boyfriend is fit as you like.'

‘You off to the soccer match, guys?' Dex asked, grinning as Alan grumbled, ‘It's
football
, Dexter!'

‘We'll all be going, apart from grumpy behind the bar there,' Dex continued. ‘He drew the short straw.'

‘Ha ha, I'm splitting my sides with laughter!' Alan tossed his head and made a great show of rearranging clean glasses on the shelves.

‘Yeah well don't let those split sides make a mess,' said Dex, laughing. ‘It's your turn on the cleaning rota too!'

Relaxing in the easy going banter of The White Lion, enjoying a pint of beer and a bowl of chips in front of the roaring fire, Lysander found himself wondering if he could wriggle out of returning to London at least until after Christmas. No chance, he thought ruefully. His Lordship's latest message on Lysander's phone had been quite specific.

‘I need you in London, Trevelyan. Stop gadding about in that God forsaken village and report to my office Monday morning, nine o'clock sharp. This is not open for negotiation.'

Lysander found he thoroughly enjoyed watching the Unsponsored play football. A few makeshift terraces had been erected on The White Lion's meadow, a number of large spotlights were serving as floodlights, and spectators were cramming into every available space.

‘Don't you charge for admission?' Lysander asked Abi.

‘No,' she replied. ‘We're not about making money like you Sponsors!'

Looking around him, Lysander wondered out loud why Applethwaite Unsponsored didn't play on the school playing fields, which seemed far better suited for the purpose.

‘The school's endorsed, Lysander; we're Unsponsored,' Abi replied sighing, and Lysander decided that perhaps it would be a good idea to stop asking questions. Joining Max and Chloe, wrapped up warm against the cold, Lysander quietly waited with the others for the game to begin.

‘Still here, Chlo?' Abi said, laughing with her new friend.

‘Still here, Abs. Thought I'd watch the match, see what all the fuss is about your little bro.'

Abi just grinned and winked, then called out, ‘Sarah! Over here!'

The football match turned out to be far better than Lysander had expected, Cameron being one of a few highly gifted players on show. The match was against an equally Unsponsored team from the Eden Valley, and ended an exciting 4-3 victory to Applethwaite. Playing on the left side of midfield, in a position very similar to that of his late father, Cameron Farrell made a fool out of the unfortunate defender trying to mark him and scored a spectacular long range goal midway through the second half. Lysander found himself getting totally wrapped up in the game; Jenny sitting on his shoulders, he sang and cheered his way through the whole ninety minutes, oblivious to the laughter at his expense. Many Applethwaite supporters would dine out for weeks to come on tales of Lysander Trevelyan, one of St Benedict's lapdogs, yelling, ‘Come on the Unsponsored!' at the top of his voice.

After the match, Lysander and his companions filed back into the welcoming warmth of The White Lion along with a lot of the supporters, both Applethwaite and Eden Valley. Alan sprinted back to the bar from the garden where he'd watched most of the game, the pub being empty while the football was on. He, Georgie, Dex and Matilda had their
work cut out for a good twenty minutes after the game serving drinks to everyone.

‘Enjoy that, Lysander?' asked Cameron later, joining his sister and company after he'd changed from his kit.

‘It was good, really good, Cameron. It's a shame…' Lysander stopped speaking, afraid to voice his thoughts

‘A shame we don't get Sponsored so the world can see what a wealth of football talent there is going to waste?' Cameron wasn't going to let Lysander off that easily.

‘Actually, I was going to say…never mind.'

Once again, many pairs of eyes turned Lysander's way, most with eyebrows raised.

‘Ok then, have it your way. I was going to say it's a shame you have to sacrifice your careers for your principles.'

‘Do you mean it's a shame that in order to have a career we have to sell out to you Sponsors? Lysander?'

‘Yes,' Lysander replied eventually. ‘That is what I mean.'

‘Wowser!' yelled Max, reporter's notebook and pen in hand. ‘I've just got to quote that in the…'

This time it was Max's turn to hold his tongue abruptly as Lysander looked questioningly at him.

‘Oh, come on!' said Lysander into Max's continued silence. ‘You've got enough blackmail material from this afternoon alone to have me hung, drawn and quartered!'

‘OK then. We have a network, and a newsletter. For the Unsponsored.'

‘What, locally?'

‘That's all you need to know, Mr Trevelyan,' said Max stubbornly. In fact the network, although started in Applethwaite, was now far from just local. It had been Max's idea to put his skills as a reporter to good use and produce a monthly newsletter for the Unsponsored, which had started up just as Applethwaite news. However it had grown at a surprising rate as word spread from village to town, from town to city. Max found he was getting feedback from as far
south as Bristol and as far north as Inverness, with the London Unsponsored very much involved. The feedback from Bristol was especially pleasing; former Applethwaite residents Jane, Bob and Alex Radcliffe were fine, having joined the ranks of the Unsponsored and finding their lives were very much happier for it. As the Unsponsored network reached out further and further around the country, the power of the Unsponsored grew along with Max's workload. Max loved it that way; no one had any doubt at all now that he was entirely anti Sponsor.

‘You're living very dangerously, Maxwell; you do realise that, don't you?' Lysander asked, his brow creased with concern.

‘Yes thank you, I know. I think His Lordshit's given up on me though, and I'd rather live dangerously in Applethwaite than kiss Sponsor arse in London. With all due respect of course, Mr Trevelyan.'

‘What changed your mind, Max?' asked Lysander, intrigued.

‘Alan, initially. He was amazing after that beating he got in the summer. God, Dyer tried to kill him! Instead of hauling me over the coals for being with the Sponsors, however, Al called me into his room and thanked me for helping Dex to find him. It kind of escalated from there.'

‘I'm always amazing,' said Alan, looking absolutely delighted at having been the catalyst for Max's change of heart.

‘Ask yourself, Lysander,' Max continued, ‘where would you rather be? Watching every word with your Sponsor cronies or totally relaxed with the Unsponsored? You don't have to tell us, just be honest with yourself.'

Lysander left it until the last possible moment before leaving for London. He didn't want to leave his family, but so entrenched was he in the world of St Benedict that he also didn't dare to disobey a direct order from Lord William.
Driving down a quiet M6 in the early hours of Monday morning, he allowed himself to bask in the glow of the pleasant time he'd had at home, glad that this time Louis wasn't angry at him for leaving.

‘I know you've got to go, Dad. Don't antagonise His Lordshit, that won't help anyone. Besides, in London you can keep an eye on Theo.'

As he showered in his luxury, impersonal apartment in London, Lysander laughed to himself. He was going to have his work cut out not to accidentally call Lord William ‘Your Lordshit,' not to mention the fact he kept catching himself in unguarded moments chanting ‘Applethwaite' (clap clap clap) ‘Unsponsored' (clap clap clap)!

Lysander was one of the first of the Scheme's inner circle to arrive at the St Benedict residence, noting to his dismay that Mortimer O'Reilly's car was the only other currently parked outside. Lord William and Mortimer were already seated in the office on the third floor, with the surprise addition of Theo sprawled in a comfortable armchair.

‘Lysander,' said Theo, leaping up as Lysander entered the room. ‘Welcome back!'

Clasping Theo by the hand, Lysander greeted the young man warmly while passing on a note from Louis.

‘How are you feeling, Theo?' asked Lysander as other members of the inner circle filed through the door.

‘Much better, thank you. I can lie on my back now…'

‘Yes yes, very nice,' interrupted Lord William. ‘Theodore, haven't you got some childish nonsense to watch on the goggle box?'

‘I thought I'd stay here actually, Your Lordship. I've listened to so many of these little get-togethers from upstairs, thought it'd be nice to see one in the flesh as it were.'