Dory's Avengers (7 page)

Nodding, Louis decided on impulse to confess. ‘I'm so sorry, I heard a little of your conversation just now.'

‘How much?' asked Abi, sharply.

‘Not much,' replied Louis hastily. ‘Just a bit about Sponsors. You really don't like the Scheme, do you?'

‘I have my reasons for that, but please don't ask me what they are, Louis.'

‘Is it to do with your dad? What happened to him?'

‘Louis!' snapped Abi, then softened and said, ‘I'll tell you one day, just not now. Not here. OK?'

‘OK,' said Louis, content for the moment with Abi's promise that they would talk again one day. ‘Shall we?' he asked, inclining his head towards the pub where Alan's band was already warming up.

‘Yeah, come on!' said Abi, treating Louis to her beautiful smile, then she compounded his happiness by grabbing hold of his hand and dragging him at a run towards the pub. When Abi Farrell and Louis Trevelyan burst together through the door of The White Lion, holding hands and laughing, Gideon decided that it was one of the loveliest sights he'd ever seen.

Chapter Three

It took a couple of days for Louis to return down from cloud nine after the Sponsors' Fair. The evening that followed the fair had turned out to be one of the most enjoyable of his life, and Louis smiled every time he remembered jumping wildly around the dance floor, often with Abi pressed tight to his side due to the large amount of people packed around them. Villagers had returned in their droves to enjoy the music of Alan's band, Sponsored mingling with Unsponsored. Alan's band, The Pink Pound, excelled themselves, and the mood of the entire evening had been exuberant. Lady Rosanna's health and safety warnings of earlier were completely forgotten as the beers flowed. Louis wondered at one point if his father's behaviour would have been considered drunken loutishness had Lady Rosanna seen Lysander pull Nicola to her feet and dance an energetic jive with her, both laughing uncontrollably the whole time. Dexter, free from the disapproving stare of Lady Rosanna, watched his boyfriend rocking the room with undisguised adoration. Even Gideon stayed for the whole evening, tapping his fingers to the beat on the arms of his wheelchair. Walking home with Jane, whose eyes were sparkling as much from the pure enjoyment of the day as the many (far more than four!) glasses of wine she'd enjoyed, Louis marvelled at the difference some good old-fashioned fun had made to his normally uptight neighbour. Louis himself was in his own
warm little bit of heaven since Abi had placed a kiss on his cheek at the end of the evening and thanked him for being great company. Lysander and Nicola walked home a little ahead of their son and neighbour, arms wrapped tightly round each other. By the time Louis returned from seeing Jane home safely, his parents had already disappeared into their bedroom, leaving him to enjoy a nightcap and chat about the wonderful day with Sarah before finally retiring to bed at silly o'clock in the morning.

Like the good weather, though, Louis's good mood couldn't last for ever. In fact, by the Tuesday morning following the Sponsors' Fair the clouds had rolled in from the Irish Sea, sitting low on the Lake District fells, and Louis was having a truly rotten day. Nicola Trevelyan had sunk back into her usual drug-induced stupor following Lysander's return to London the previous day, oblivion being preferable to dealing with the pain of being once again separated from her husband. Jenny, unusually for her, didn't want to go to school and grumbled all the way that she had tummy ache, before dissolving into tears as the first rainfall caught her and Louis by surprise, soaking them both. Louis left Jenny being dried off by the young teaching assistant Bella, returning a little later with dry clothes for his little sister. Jenny, still moody, didn't even acknowledge him as he handed her clothes to Bella, and he walked to Gideon's studio feeling gloomy at having not had a hug from his little sister to start his day nicely.

Gideon's mood was also matching the weather, Louis observed miserably, as the older man started yelling before Louis had even closed the door behind him.

‘Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been sitting here like a spare prick at a wedding for half an hour, and you waltz in here as if you've a divine right to take the piss. And CLOSE THE BLOODY DOOR PROPERLY! Do you want me to catch my death?'

‘Carry on like that, then yes,' Louis muttered to himself, dragging his kit from his bag.

‘What? Speak clearly, Trevelyan! Hurry up about getting changed; you've wasted enough of my time already. I hope you're going to put some bloody effort in today; you were pathetic yesterday. Too much bloody booze on Saturday.'

‘I didn't see you exactly abstaining on Saturday, Gid,' replied Louis, stung at the unfounded criticism of his previous day's training

‘I'm not the bloody performing monkey, am I? And DON'T CALL ME GID!' roared Gideon. ‘If I don't see some decent gymnastics from you today I may seriously consider killing myself.'

‘A minute ago you were worried about catching your death from cold,' shouted Louis, thoroughly fed up with always bearing the brunt of Gideon's mood swings. ‘I'll open the door again if you like, spare you a job.'

‘Get on with your warm-up, Trevelyan!' screamed Gideon, purple with fury. ‘NOW! WORK!'

Louis's day was as miserable as he suspected it would be, Gideon making him regret having answered back by driving him harder than ever before. Nothing pleased the older man, and by the end of the day Louis was tired, aching and totally dispirited by Gideon's constant barrage of criticism. When he once again walked into the mysterious man's room instead of the shower, Louis didn't even make an attempt to communicate. He just stood by the door, arms folded, glaring at the other man until the scene faded and the shower was once more a shower.

Many miles south, in one of the most affluent areas of London, Lord Theodore St Benedict gazed sadly back at the furious Louis until the young gymnast faded and Theo found himself once more alone in his bedroom. Theo was well aware of Louis's identity, and found it sad that Louis
didn't seem to realise who he was in return. His mind wandered back in time to a warm afternoon in 'Thwaite's Wood; two boys sitting in the broad branches of an old tree making little cuts in their fingers so they could combine their blood and become blood brothers. Friends for ever. Obviously, Louis hadn't regarded the ceremony with the solemnity that Theo himself had, and it looked like Louis had forgotten his blood brother altogether once Theo's visits to his mother's childhood home had ceased. Amazingly not one to wallow in self-pity despite the terrible place his life had become since those happy childhood days, Theo had learned to escape into the only part of himself that the tyrant he once called father couldn't imprison. Theo's mind travelled freely up to the north of England, to Applethwaite and the memories it held of the happy time when his mother protected him and love was a part of his world. Finally, and as much to Theo's surprise as Louis's, he had made silent contact with his friend from that happy time. Louis would make it all right again. Louis wouldn't let him down. Theo didn't
hope
this; since he'd managed to contact Louis he instinctively
knew
it. Louis would answer Theo's call for help sooner or later, for now he just had to be patient and wait.

Looking round the fading luxury of the room that had been his prison cell for so long now, Theo smiled sadly. Of course he could wait; it wasn't as though he'd be going anywhere in the foreseeable future!

Stepping into the steaming jets of water, the shower turned up as hot as he could bear in an attempt to ease his aching muscles, Louis immediately regretted his bad mood. The man in the mysterious room had looked so unhappy as he stared back at Louis; he was clearly trying to communicate and Louis felt bad for being so unreceptive. There was no reason why Louis would suddenly start seeing a strange
room instead of the bathrooms of his real world, so he deduced that the young man in the room must be the catalyst for the visions. What did he want, though? He always seemed to be in that room – was he trapped? Furthermore, who the bloody hell
was
he?

Deciding that finding out the other man's identity was a good place to start in his quest for answers, Louis turned off the shower and, grabbing a towel, braced himself for the wrath of Gideon.

‘Gideon, does Rosanna St Benedict have a brother? Oh,' Louis finished lamely as he realised Gideon had gone.

Louis's day continued from bad to worse. Arriving at the school to pick Jenny up, hoping that she'd got over her earlier bad mood, Louis found his little sister desperately hanging on to Alex Radcliffe as the two little girls sobbed in each other's arms. Jane Radcliffe was talking grimly to the children's teacher Karen Winter, a look of sadness on the face that had radiated happiness only a few days before. Seeing Louis approach, Jenny threw herself, still crying, into her brother's arms.

‘Well, at least I'm getting a cuddle now,' said Louis to his little sister. ‘Although why such a sad one?'

‘Alex…has …got…to …go…away …for ever!' Jenny eventually managed between her tears. Picking up the distraught little girl, Louis made his way over to Jane who was comforting her own sobbing child while still talking to Karen.

‘Bob's been moved,' Jane said to Louis without preamble. ‘Trade Sponsors need more plumbers in Bristol, and Bob's been selected to fill one of the posts. We're going at the end of the week; there's a house all ready for us.'

Jane's words brought fresh crying from the children, and Karen Winter lowered her head, expression unreadable.

‘It's a very good move for all of us,' Jane finished, her voice flat and unconvincing.

‘You don't want to go, do you?' Louis observed. Jane was
quiet for a while, looking at the children who were once again clinging to each other.

‘Oh to have a child's freedom to express emotion,' she said eventually. ‘No, Louis, I don't want to go. I want to stay here. Alex wants to stay here. We love Applethwaite.'

‘Can't Bob turn the job down then?' asked Louis

‘Sweet Louis, you're so naive. No one would guess you were Lysander Trevelyan's son,' said Jane, smiling sadly. ‘No, Bob can't turn the job down. You just don't turn down opportunities given by your Sponsors, otherwise the Sponsorship is withdrawn. Before you know it, Bob would be out of work and we'd be homeless. Whatever happens we can't stay here. People talk of choices, but in reality there are no choices for people like Bob and me, only orders. Orders that must be obeyed.'

‘How about I talk to my dad, Jane? See if he can influence Trade Sponsors and get Bob a position in the north?'

Once again, Jane smiled sadly at Louis's naivety before replying.

‘Thank you for the offer, Louis; I know it was kindly meant, but that would do more harm than good. If Trade Sponsors got wind of the fact I'd let anyone know I'm unhappy with their offer to Bob, then it would be curtains for him. We must be eternally grateful to our benevolent Sponsors and build a new life for ourselves in Bristol.'

Shocked at the harshness of Jane and Bob Radcliffe's situation, it was a very quiet Louis who walked Jenny home from school, still hugging her against his side as she continued to cry quietly. Once Jenny was safe in Sarah's arms, the kindly woman soothing the child's tears with loving words, Louis made his way back out into the gloom of the day to avail himself of the search engines on The White Lion's customer computers. The Trevelyans themselves didn't have a household computer. The bright monitors hurt Louis's eyes so he could never use one for long; Nicola
had no need of one; Lysander used his laptop on the rare occasions he spent any time at home, and Jenny wasn't old enough to show any interest in the cyber world yet. Louis found Dexter in the bar, reading a letter with a concerned frown on his boyish face.

‘You OK, Dex?' asked Louis. ‘Everyone seems to be having a bad day today.'

‘Yeah, I'm OK, Lou; thanks for asking,' Dexter replied. ‘What can I get you?'

‘Better stick to mineral water, thanks, Dex. I'm in Gideon's bad books enough for drinking on Saturday night.'

‘Sod Gideon,' said Dexter, a grin lighting up his face briefly. ‘I need beer, and I'm relying on you now not to leave me drinking alone like some old bum.'

‘Go on then; I could do with something a bit stronger than water myself,' said Louis, returning Dexter's smile.

‘Tell me all about it then, Lou,' said Dexter, placing two pints of lager on the bar. ‘A problem shared is better than one in the bush, that's what they say.'

Not bothering to tell Dexter that wasn't actually what they say, Louis instead spoke about Gideon's mood, excessively grumpy even by his standards, and about Jenny's pain at losing her best friend.

‘You're kidding me,' said Dexter, his big, grey eyes widening even more in surprise. ‘The Radcliffes are going?'

‘Afraid so, Dex; at the end of the week too. Bob's got a new job in Bristol.'

Dexter paused to have a quick look round the bar, out of the windows and behind the doors. Satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, he bent his head close to Louis and said, ‘It's their Sponsors, huh? Giving them no choice? No move, no Sponsorship, no job, no home.'

‘That's how it appears to work, Dex,' replied Louis, taking a long drink from his pint and savouring the taste for a
couple of seconds before continuing. ‘Considering I'm Lysander Trevelyan's son, I don't know much about Sponsorship, but I'm learning fast and I can't say I'm impressed. By the way, Dex, people round here seem to trust me, which I'm beginning to find a bit odd given my parentage and the fact none of you seem to trust the Sponsors.'

‘We know you, Louis; we've watched you grow up.' Dexter paused, frowning slightly for a few moments before continuing. ‘There is a reason we all look out for you, Lou, but I'm not the right person to tell you what it is. I've probably blabbed too much already.'

‘No one ever tells me a damn thing!' exclaimed Louis, frustrated yet again at his friends' reluctance to share anything of importance. ‘Who is the right person then?'