Dory's Avengers (6 page)

‘Women!' he snorted as Dexter appeared at his side and laid a hand on his arm.

‘Careful, Al,' said Dexter. ‘Walls have ears and all that jazz.'

‘Best not touch me, darling,' Alan replied. ‘It's unnatural, remember? Bloody woman!'

‘They're not all bad,' said Louis without thinking.

‘No, of course they're not,' said Alan, a genuine smile
now lighting up his face. ‘Especially the beautiful Abilene, eh, Louis? Come on, Dex, better go and mingle now we're no longer allowed to serve beer to our thirsty public.'

‘Why did Dex tell Al to be quiet?' Louis asked, still blushing furiously at Alan's words. ‘He had every right to be angry; she was so rude to them.'

‘Will you lower the volume, Louis!' snarled Gideon. ‘I know you're not renowned for you observational skills, but surely even you've noticed that people as a rule do not criticise the Sponsors.'

‘Why not?' asked Louis. ‘This country practises free speech…'

‘Does it? Does it really?' replied Gideon sadly. ‘Stop blushing, will you?' he added, suddenly grumpy once more. ‘I know you're head over heels in love with the Farrell girl. Now, wheel me over there. I want to see what her brother's up to.'

Sighing, Louis wheeled Gideon in the direction indicated by his coach. Anxious though he was to find out more about the St Benedict family, particularly whether Lady Rosanna had a brother, Louis recognised that Gideon was unlikely to give him any answers in such a crowded environment.

Cameron Farrell was at that moment engaged in demonstrating the fine art of keepy-uppy to a group of adoring children, all watching intently as the young man effortlessly bounced the football on his head. Eighteen years old with dark curly hair, brown eyes and tanned skin, Cameron very much favoured his Italian mother in looks; but the skill with a football was definitely from Cameron and Abi's late father, Elliot.

‘He's certainly a chip off the old block,' Gideon commented, as Cameron passed the football to an eager child and came over to join them.

‘Gideon! Louis!' he said. ‘Enjoying the day?'

‘It's all good so far,' replied Gideon. Louis, taking his cue from the older man and keeping the conversation light, told Cameron about the ridiculously gruelling warm-up routine he'd watched the exercise class performing earlier.

‘It's a wonder that anyone sticks with those classes,' he commented.

‘I think they have to; Leisure and Fitness like the folk they sponsor to keep themselves in top condition,' replied Cameron, moving with Louis and Gideon in the direction of the Pet Care tent.

‘Do they?' said Louis, wondering how he could be so unfamiliar with the Sponsorship Group headed by his own father.

‘Well, yes,' Cameron said. ‘It wouldn't be a very good advert for the fitness group if its members were overweight. I thought you'd have known that, Louis!'

‘Have you applied for Sponsorship yet, Cameron?' asked Gideon quietly.

‘Not yet, Gideon. It seems I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.'

‘What do you mean?' asked Louis, more confused by the second.

‘Well, I can't have a career in football without Sports Sponsorship, but the moment I apply Abi's going to skin me alive. Of course, after what happened to Dad…'

‘Enough now, Cameron,' Gideon interrupted smoothly.

‘Yep, you're right. Now, what's Uncle Chris up to?'

Gideon and Cameron suddenly became very interested in the best-trained large dog competition going on outside the Pet Care tent, leaving Louis feeling very frustrated. Every time he seemed to be getting answers to his questions the subject always changed. His frustration soon took a back seat, however, as Abilene Farrell appeared from the tent dressed in the shortest of denim shorts and a light shirt tied over her breasts to reveal her flat stomach.

‘Ding Dong, who is that?' said an unfamiliar voice beside Louis. ‘I am so going to get to know that little lady better. My God, what happened to you?' continued the cocky stranger, turning to look at Louis. ‘Take a bath in bleach, did you?'

‘Max Barrington,' the stranger continued, introducing himself before Louis could react to his hurtful words. ‘Freelance reporter, writing a piece on this little fête for the Media Sponsorship Group.'

Louis regarded the stranger for a while before replying. Tall and slim built, with dark hair framing a strong-jawed face and sparkling green eyes full of self-confidence, Max was undoubtedly good-looking.

‘Louis Trevelyan,' replied Louis eventually, not even attempting to mask the dislike in his voice. However, if Max even realised that he hadn't made a friend of Louis he didn't seem to care.

‘Trevelyan? What, as in Lysander? So who is the babe? I've just got to get up close and personal with her! Oh. My. God. You fancy her too, don't you? Bit out of your league though, don't you think, Bleachy?'

Before Louis could respond a distraction appeared in the whirlwind form of his little sister.

‘Louis, there you are! You just missed Mackie; he was so good in the little dog behaviour class and he got second prize. Alex, show Louis Mackie's rosette.'

Glancing over the heads of the two excited little girls, Louis tried in vain to concentrate on their chatter as he saw that Max was already talking animatedly to Abi. Her head inclined towards Max, Abi seemed to be hanging on every word he said, and Louis felt pain contracting his heart as Abi smiled her beautiful smile over and over again. For Max. Only for Max.

‘Out of your league, Bleachy,' muttered Louis miserably. ‘A million, zillion miles out.'

By the evening the fair had pretty much finished, the crowds had departed for their homes and the organisers were left happy in the knowledge that the day had been a success. Proceeds from the day were healthy and were divided between Applethwaite Primary School and the Fit Brit programme, brain child of Lysander Trevelyan. Lady Rosanna and her entourage declined Alan Santiago's invitation to stay for the performance of his band that evening. Her Ladyship was heard to comment on her way to her car that she'd rather pull out her own fingernails than be subjected to some faggot's attempts to play an instrument. As a consequence she missed a very fine performance indeed, Alan being an extremely talented guitarist.

With Lady Rosanna out of the way and the Sponsors' Fair officially at a close, Dexter and Georgia reopened the bar of The White Lion. Louis joined Gideon and a number of thirsty hangers on from the fair to enjoy the fact the beer was no longer rationed. Alex was sleeping over with Jenny for the night, and Sarah had earlier departed to put the tired children to bed, leaving Jane free to relax in adult company for once. Nicola was also enjoying a rarity: time in the company of her husband who had decided to stay home for the rest of the weekend. Lysander would never have admitted it to a soul, but he was still smarting from a stinging verbal attack levelled at him by Lady Rosanna earlier, and was happy to enjoy a break from the difficult job of constantly trying to please either her or her father. Watching his parents enjoying a drink together, Louis couldn't help but notice what an attractive-looking couple they were.

‘What went wrong with me?' he said quietly, smiling mirthlessly and not even realising he had spoken out loud until Gideon touched him lightly on the arm.

‘Nothing went wrong with you, boy. Try looking in a mirror some time.'

‘Gideon, you're drinking,' said Louis, smiling genuinely this time as he noticed the pint in Gideon's hand.

‘Oh yes. Live dangerously! Get us another, would you, Louis?' he added, draining his glass and handing Louis a ten-pound note. ‘My challenged mobility makes it difficult to get to the bar.'

Louis found Alan propping up the bar, and stood next to him to order beers for himself and Gideon.

‘Do you want a beer on Gideon, Al?' asked Louis, generous to a fault with his mentor's money. ‘Or are you about to help Dex and Georgie behind the bar?'

‘I am not! An artiste doesn't serve behind a bar before a big performance. Yes, Louis dear, I'll have a gin and tonic. With lemon, if you please. For the vocal cords.'

‘You don't sing, Al,' said Louis, laughing.

‘So sharp, aren't you!' Alan replied, laughing along with Louis. ‘OK then, to lubricate the fingers. And don't say I don't play either, OR THERE WILL BE TEARS!'

‘Two lagers and a G & T please, Georgie,' said Louis to Georgia Montfiore, then turning back to Alan he asked how come the pub was again allowed to serve alcohol.

‘Today we were hosting the Sponsors' Show,' Alan replied, nodding at Georgie to indicate that he did indeed want ice and a slice. ‘So we worked to Sponsors' rules. Tonight we're freelance.'

‘Careful, Al!' warned Dexter, passing by on the other side of the bar.

‘Relax, sweetie!' Alan replied with a wink.

‘Isn't the pub what do you call it? Endorsed?'

‘Not as yet,' Dexter replied, taking advantage of a lull in custom to join the conversation. ‘The Scheme had only been around a few years when my folks came over from Seattle. Nanna and Grandad hadn't applied for endorsement; they were more concerned with Grandad's ill health, and coming from the US Mom and Dad had no idea what it
was all about. We just seem to get along OK without it, not sure how much longer though.'

‘Why not?' asked Louis, sipping his lager.

‘Goodness, Lou, doesn't your dad tell you anything?' Alan asked incredulously as Dexter went off to serve a drinker. ‘People who are Sponsored are only supposed to use endorsed businesses. We'll end up with no customers if we don't take endorsement. I'm really not sure how we got the fair today, maybe because your dad grew up here.'

‘Have you seen Chris anywhere?' Georgie asked in passing.

‘Why don't you go and look for him, Louis sweetie,' said Alan, feeling he'd possibly been too open with the young man and glad of an excuse to end the conversation.

‘OK,' said Louis, not wanting to encounter Abi with Max but also desperate to know if they were still together.

‘Louis,' called Gideon from across the room, ‘thirsty!'

Putting both beers on the table, Louis told Gideon that he'd be back soon, then disappeared into the warm evening before the older man could argue. A lot of the tents around the edge of the field were still standing, and Louis guessed Chris would be in the Pet Care tent.

Chris was indeed in the Pet Care tent, having an animated conversation with his niece and nephew.

‘Who was the guy then, Abi?'

‘What guy?'

‘You know very well what guy!'

‘None of your business, little bro.'

‘Come on, Abi, I'd like to know too,' said Chris.

‘OK, his name's Max. He's a freelance reporter at the moment; I think he wants to head the Media Sponsors one day. Oh yeah, and he wants to take me out to dinner next Tuesday.'

‘And?'

‘And I said ‘‘Why not?'''

‘What about Louis?' asked Chris.

‘Why does everyone ask me about Louis every time I start seeing another guy?' asked Abi crossly. ‘He's not my boyfriend.'

‘But you like him though?'

‘He's a nice bloke – what's not to like?'

‘You know what I mean, Abi!'

‘OK, yes! Yes, I like Louis a lot. As a matter of fact, I think he's damn gorgeous, even more so because he's totally oblivious of the fact, but what's the point? Every time I go near him he can't wait to get away from me. He won't even speak to me half the time. Louis's so not interested in me; now I'm giving Max a go. Get over it!' Feeling tears prickling her eyes, Abi turned away.

‘Abi…' began Chris, but Cameron interrupted before his uncle could continue.

‘Abs, if you're going out with a Sponsor now, how would you feel about me going for sports Sponsorship?'

At this point in the conversation Louis approached the tent, and the words started to reach his sharp ears. If only he'd been a little earlier! Torn between respecting the Farrells' privacy and grabbing the opportunity to learn more about Sponsors, Louis chose the latter.

‘Cam, I can't believe you even asked me that! After what happened to Dad and all.'

‘Well, Uncle Chris and Mam both have Pro Spo, and I want to play football.'

‘So play!'

‘How can I without Sponsorship? The local Sunday League team wouldn't look twice at me without it!'

‘Just because Mam and Uncle Chris choose to betray Dad's memory and sell out to the bloody Sponsors doesn't mean that you have to as well.'

‘Cruel, Abi,' said Chris Farrell. ‘You know full well that neither your mother nor I could practise without Sponsorship.'

‘So what do I do? Give up all hope of a career? What are you going to do? You're a bloody hypocrite, Abi; you only got accepted at vet school because Uncle Chris has Pro Spo!'

‘I know that, moron.' Abi's voice sounded close to tears, and Louis longed to reach out to her. ‘I guess I'll just have to drop out. Or sell my soul like the rest of you. I just can't bear it, after what they did to Dad!'

‘There's no proof Abi…' began Chris quietly, but Abi cut him short.

‘Oh go on, get your bloody Sponsorship then,' she said, sounding as if all the fight had left her. ‘Just try not to get yourself murdered, OK?'

Ashamed at himself for eavesdropping on such an intimate conversation, Louis made out that he was just approaching the tent, calling Chris's name loudly.

‘Oh hi, Louis,' said Chris, poking his head out from the tent.

‘Georgie's asking for you, Chris.'

‘Oh, OK. Thanks, Louis. I'm pretty much done now clearing up. Come on, guys,' Chris added, looking over his shoulder, ‘I'll buy you both a beer.'

Cameron emerged from the tent with his uncle, and whispered, ‘Why don't you walk back with Abi?' to Louis as he passed. Undecided what to do, Louis was still dithering when Abi exited the tent a few minutes later and started walking towards him. Louis felt like the ‘Teenage Dirtbag' in the song of the same name; indeed, as Abi joined him he half expected her to announce herself the proud owner of two tickets to see Iron Maiden. Instead, she said, ‘Hi, Louis. Do you fancy a beer?'