Dory's Avengers (3 page)

Abi Farrell. Smooth skin. Long, dark hair. Slim figure, beautifully toned thanks to Abi's love of sport. The fragrant, the lovely, the unattainable Abi; smiling at Louis as she explained that she'd offered to wait with Jenny – Jane had to rush off, Sponsor paying a visit, really not a problem…

‘Er, thanks, erm, Abi…' Louis managed, blushing frantically and attempting to hide beneath his huge hat. Oh yeah, Lou, he thought, great look. Flustered albino in ancient sunhat pulls exotic Mediterranean beauty. Never going to happen!

‘Are you OK, Louis?' asked Abi kindly, laying a hand on Louis's arm and unwittingly reducing him to a jabbering wreck.

‘Thank you, yes I am, thank you, Abi – sorry I'm late – Gideon, track of time, erm…' Louis's gabbling made him feel a bigger fool with every passing second, while Jenny grabbed his hands and attempted to turn somersaults.

‘Really, it's not a problem,' said Abi. ‘Jenny and I have been having a lovely chat; haven't we, Jen?'

‘Yes!' replied the little girl. ‘Miss Winter made us all draw a poster for the Sponsors' Fair on Saturday, and she said mine was the best. Abi liked it too.'

The child grabbed Abi's hands and jumped up and down with excitement, while the two young adults smiled at each other over her head. It was a rare moment of ease for Louis while in Abi's company, and he silently thanked Jenny for breaking the tension.

‘Well, thank you once again, Abi,' said Louis. ‘Say thank you to Abi, Jen!' he continued, finding it less daunting to speak to Abi through his little sister.

‘Abi, come and have tea with us! Sarah won't mind,' said Jenny unexpectedly, and Louis returned to his previous state of panic.

‘I'd love to, Jenny, but I can't today,' said Abi, stroking the child's hair. ‘My Uncle Chris is picking me up soon and we're going to make some poorly animals better.'

‘OK, Abi, see you another day. Will you be at the Sponsors' Fair?'

Abi frowned darkly and briefly, so briefly that had Louis not been staring rapturously at her he would have missed it.

‘No, darling, I won't be there, but I'm sure I'll see you soon. We'll have tea together one day very soon, I promise. Bye, Louis. Take care.'

Dragging Louis behind her, Jenny headed off in the direction of the Trevelyan family home. The child's chatter washed over Louis as he continued to think about Abi long after she had disappeared from sight. He wondered why mention of the Sponsors always seemed to dampen Abi's mood. As a trainee vet she must surely benefit from Professional Sponsorship, or Pro Spo as it was affectionately known. He knew that Christopher Farrell, local veterinary surgeon and Abi's uncle, was endorsed by Pro Spo, and as
Abi practised alongside her uncle when on leave from university she must come under the Pro Spo umbrella too. Then there was the prestigious veterinary college that Abi attended; Louis knew for a fact that this college was endorsed by both Pro Spo and Academic Sponsorship. Louis realised he rarely thought about the Sponsorship Scheme, despite the fact that his father worked for Lord William St Benedict. Indeed, Lysander Trevelyan was in charge of the highly regarded Leisure and Fitness Sponsorship Group; a position that afforded, among other things, the beautiful house in which Louis and Jenny lived so comfortably. It briefly crossed Louis's mind that he never really got much chance to talk to his father about anything, and that it may be a nice idea to ask him about Leisure and Fitness next time they met.

Within minutes Louis Trevelyan – highly talented gymnast, head over heels in love with Abilene Farrell and more than a little scatty – had forgotten all about Leisure and Fitness in the pleasure of being home again. Home was a large, slate house in an exclusive little lane leading out of the village towards 'Thwaite's Wood and the fell beyond. Surrounded by mature gardens and bordered by an old stone wall, the grand house sat proud in its seclusion. Inside, a large hallway led to a magnificent staircase; to the left of the hallway lay the cosy family room into which Jenny and Louis now headed, behind which was the kitchen and the kindly Sarah. To the right of the hallway were the more formal rooms of the house – the sitting room with its huge, ornate fireplace, and the dining room, only used when Lysander was at home and entertaining. As Lysander being home was a rarity, the dining room spent most of its time cold and empty; Louis and Jenny preferring the informal comfort of Sarah's kitchen.

Louis would never have considered his childhood to have been an unhappy one, but he was blissfully unaware that it
was a very unorthodox one. His father had been a virtual stranger for his entire life; a handsome, charismatic man who appeared every so often with an ever-changing flock of admirers in tow, only to vanish within days for another long period of absence. Louis wasn't sure how he was meant to feel about Lysander. He admired his father, it was true, and wished that he could emulate Lysander's easy confidence and ready wit, but beyond that his feelings were sadly indifferent.

Louis and Jenny's mother, Nicola, was equally strange to her children, but this wasn't due to her being absent from the family home. Although she shared the large house with them, Nicola was usually to be found drifting around in a drug-induced world of her own. Nicola's bedroom was situated over the rarely used dining room, so it often felt to Louis as though the left-hand side of the house was filled with love and warmth, while the right was cold and silent, haunted by the ghostly presence of his mother. Today she was sleeping, not an unusual state of affairs as lack of proper sustenance made her constantly tired. Her children barely registered her absence.

Unlike both of their parents, Sarah Lonsdale was very much a part of the youngsters' lives. For as long as Louis could remember it had been Sarah who cared for him, looked after him when he was ill, kissed him better when he was hurt. The loving arms around him following childhood nightmares were always Sarah's. The hand on to which he clung, terrified, on his first day at school was Sarah's. His tears at cruel taunts from other children were mopped up by Sarah; she rejoiced with him at sports day triumphs, tended to his occasional sunburn and reprimanded him for being foolish enough to forget his sun block, fed him, clothed him and gently guided him into adulthood. That Sarah loved the Trevelyan children was beyond doubt, as was the fact that the feeling was mutual.

Once again, having never known any different, it never occurred to Louis to question who Sarah Lonsdale actually was, where she had come from, and why she never visited or even spoke of her own family.

Later on, following a hilarious conversation over dinner about a walk in the countryside involving a very vocal donkey, every type of weather imaginable and a group of walkers making weary attempts to climb over a style, Jenny was finally persuaded into her bed. Louis's favourite time of the day was spent at the child's bedside, reading stories to her as her breathing slowly deepened and she gave in to sleep. He often sat for a while after Jenny had disappeared to dreamland, lights and dark glasses both off, watching his beloved sister as she slept. Jenny had been an unexpected addition to the family, a very welcome addition as far as Louis was concerned, although he remembered his constant worries over his mother's state of health during her pregnancy. Still at school himself at the time, he had relied even more than usual on the protective eye of Sarah Lonsdale. Happily, when Jenny had been born just over six years previously, she was totally unscathed by her mother's unhealthy lifestyle. Louis absolutely adored his sister and made sure that Jenny's life was as full of as much love and fun as possible.

Louis felt quite chilled by the time he finally roused himself from Jenny's bedside. Must be because I've been sitting still for so long, Louis thought as he opened the bathroom door with a view to warming up in a hot bath.

When Louis recalled the next few moments of his life it seemed to him as though time slowed to a virtual standstill, so shocked was he by the scene that greeted him. Instead of the big, friendly bathroom with its freestanding bath and antique iron fireplace, so familiar to Louis all his life, there was a room he'd never seen before. It wasn't an unpleasant room, but that didn't make it any less alarming to Louis. It
wasn't his family home's bathroom where his family home's bathroom should be, and that shocked Louis to the core. Luckily for the sake of Louis's delicate eyes, still unprotected by their dark glasses, the room was as dim as the unlit landing behind him.

Glancing back over his shoulder Louis found that, yes, the landing was still behind him.

Glancing again into the space that should have contained the bathroom, Louis was dismayed to find that the room was still as unfamiliar as it had been a few seconds before. Never renowned for his decisiveness, Louis remained where he was, clinging desperately on to the doorframe as if that were his last connection with reality, while his shocked brain made a valiant attempt to take in the scene before him.

As already mentioned, the room was not unpleasant; indeed, it looked rather luxurious. Beautiful silk curtains framed two large sash windows. Deep, exotic rugs covered sanded and sealed floorboards on either side of a large four-poster bed, and the furniture in the room was clearly of the highest quality. All this impressed itself into the back of Louis's mind, but the luxury of the room dimmed into insignificance at the sight of the young man on the bed. Tall and slim, he was laying sprawled on top of the quilt, eyes closed and forehead creased in concentration. Louis took in light-brown, shoulder-length hair and well-defined features before the man's eyes opened and he looked directly at Louis.

Louis had a moment to notice two things about the other man's eyes; they were exactly the same colour as his hair and they were filled with anger. Almost as soon as Louis's eyes made contact with those of the stranger, the scene faded from view, and the Trevelyan family bathroom was back in its rightful place.

Half an hour later Sarah came up the stairs to check on the frail Nicola Trevelyan, and was surprised to find Louis clinging to the doorway of the bathroom.

‘Louis, darling?' said Sarah, laying a gentle hand on Louis's shoulder, her eyes widening in alarm as he jumped violently. ‘Are you feeling OK, love?'

‘Sarah,' gasped Louis, finally letting go of the bathroom doorframe and grabbing hold of her soft arms instead. ‘Have you ever seen anything…er…weird in the bathroom?'

‘Weird, love? What do you mean by weird?'

‘Well, has it ever turned into a room that's not the bathroom? With a bloke in it? Looking cross?' Even as he spoke, Louis realised how ridiculous his words must sound to the down-to-earth Sarah.

However, Sarah's reaction was not the one Louis would have expected. Instead of teasing him gently and telling him not to be so silly, she asked him exactly what he'd seen, her usually cheerful expression full of concern.

‘Well, it was a right nice room, with all t'stuff the toffs have, velvet and silk and that,' said Louis, his northern accent thickening in his anxiety to express himself to Sarah. ‘There was a fella on t'bed, and he looked proper fed up…Sarah, what the bloody hell's happened to me tonight?' Louis's voice trailed off as Sarah continued to gaze at him in concern.

‘I'm not sure, love,' said Sarah finally, ‘but I'm glad it's me you told. Sometimes it's wise to be a little cautious about who you trust. Now,' she continued, regaining her composure, ‘how about I run you a nice hot bath?'

Louis looked fearfully back into the bathroom, which remained the familiar room he'd known since childhood.

‘I'm not sure I'm up for spending too much time in the bathroom tonight, thanks, Sarah. Think I'll leave it until the morning.'

‘OK, my love. How about I go and check up on your mam, then we'll have a chat over some hot chocolate. Oooh, I made some ginger biscuits today too; we could give them a try. I hear you saw Abi today; how is she getting on…?'

Louis adored Sarah. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better no matter what life decided to throw at him. By the time he finally went to bed, full of biscuits (Gideon would not have approved!), he drifted quickly into a sleep filled with dreams not of strange rooms and angry men, but of laying in sunlight that didn't burn his skin, running his fingers through Abi's sleek hair.

The next day dawned warm and sunny; and even Louis, who had good reason to fear the sunlight, felt his spirits rise at the glimmer of light around the edges of his curtains. Jenny and Sarah were singing happily as Jenny got ready for school in the bathroom, which was clearly still a bathroom, and Louis felt unusually at ease with the world. The strange happenings of the previous evening seemed totally unreal in the light of a new day, and even the thought of another punishing training session with the grump that was Gideon couldn't dampen his spirits. In actual fact Louis liked Gideon a lot, and he had a feeling, despite Gideon's permanent bad mood, that the feeling was mutual. After all, why else would Gideon invest so much of his time in a reasonably good but totally unambitious gymnast?

Even in the reassuring light of the morning, Louis had no desire to spend too much time in the bathroom, so he showered quickly then grabbed his kit and hammered down the stairs two at a time.

‘Goodness, Louis, where's the fire?' asked Sarah, laughing affectionately at the young man's haste.

‘No fire, just a ghost in the bathroom,' replied Louis, returning Sarah's laughter. ‘Don't look so worried, Sarah, I'm joking…'

‘Eat! Now!' said Sarah, swatting Louis's arm. ‘I've no doubt that Gideon won't think to feed you.'

‘Well, I'm lucky that you do think to feed me then. Oh, hello, Mam,' said Louis, entering the big, cheerful kitchen
and noting with surprise that Nicola Trevelyan was sitting at the table, sipping coffee.

‘Hello, dear,' said Nicola. ‘How's the training?'

‘Good thanks, Mam. How are you?'

‘Oh I'm fine, fine,' said Nicola vaguely. ‘What is this stuff, Sarah?'