by Alison Jack
Theo decided not to tell Louis of just how awful things got for him sometimes. Days when the light on his security camera would go out leaving it blind and useless; when Stephen Dyer, his father's head of security, would appear in Theo's room, sometimes with a couple of his thugs in tow. Theo had learned to retreat into his head to the safety of Applethwaite, crossing the meadow and entering ’Thwaite's Wood as Dyer forced himself into Theo's body to satisfy his carnal needs. Theo's imagination would always head for the sanctuary of the old tree where he and Louis had made their childhood pact, until Dyer and his men finally left him on his bed, bruised and sore, and the security camera's light would blink on once more.
Shuddering slightly, Theo continued. ‘The only time in my life I was ever truly happy was in Applethwaite, with Mum's family. As a kid I used to pretend my name was Theodore Farrell; not Lord, and definitely not St Benedict.’
‘I always thought you were Theo Farrell!’ said Louis, astounded that they could have been so close as children but he hadn't even known Theo's true identity. ‘I never thought to associate you with St Benedict!’
‘I wish every day of my life that I wasn't a St Benedict,’ said Theo bitterly. ‘I've always wanted to be plain, ordinary Theo Farrell living in Applethwaite. That's why I always go to Applethwaite in my head, and that's why I came to you, Lou. God, should He exist, knows there's no one left for me here. Even Marina's given up on me.’
‘She hasn't,’ said Louis.
‘How do you know?’
‘She caught me sneaking in, gave me a few hints to see me the final stage of the way. Your father's put an electronic tag on her; the minute she passes the top of the stairs to this floor the alarms will go off.’
‘Gosh, poor kid! My gosh, bloody security would tear her apart. I don't want her to risk it. If you see her on the way out, tell her not to risk it!’ Then Theo's face broke into a huge grin as the realisation hit him that his little sister did in actual fact still care for him.
‘If you see her on the way out, tell her I love her, will you, Lou? Tell her knowing there's someone in this house that gives a damn about me will make the world of difference. Tell her I'm OK…’
‘I don't think we'll have much chance for an in-depth chat, Theo, but I'll do my best,’ said Louis, and they both gave in to another fit of laughter.
‘Right, where was I?’ said Theo when they'd got their euphoria under control again. Suddenly urgent, he grabbed Louis's arm.
‘Shhh, Louis, hide! Get under here!’ he hissed, piling his bedclothes on top of his friend as the bedroom door opened.
‘Food,’ said an unpleasant voice. ‘Personally I'd let you starve, you ungrateful little shit.’
The curtains of Theo's bed were pulled back, and Louis felt Theo's weight leave the bed abruptly.
‘Ah, Mr Dyer, always a pleasure,’ said Theo smoothly. ‘Now, if you'd be so kind as to remove your hands from my collar, I really can't wait to tuck into this sumptuous feast.’
Dyer! thought Louis from his hiding place. Murdering scum!
‘You ungrateful fuck!’ screeched Dyer. ‘You think you're so lah-di-dah; don't you, you worthless piece of shit!’
Louis heard Dyer walk towards the door, then he spoke again. This time his voice was triumphant.
‘I'm busy tonight, but we'll have a bit of cameras-off time soon, you little faggot. Very soon.’
Chuckling nastily, Dyer left the room and closed the door behind him. Still shielded from the security camera by the bed curtains that remained closed, Louis lifted the pile of blankets from his head.
‘So that was Dyer…’ he began, but Theo interrupted.
‘The low life who murdered my Uncle Elliot? Yes, that was Dyer. Do you want some food? STAY THERE, LOUIS! Camera!’
Louis froze on the bed while Theo lifted the tray of food from the trolley and placed it on the bed between them.
‘Looks like we've got something edible for once,’ he said, lifting the lid off the tray to reveal some of the food the caterers had delivered earlier. ‘Tuck in, Trev!’
‘What did he mean by cameras-off time?’ asked Louis, tasting a samosa for the first time in his life and finding he liked it a lot.
‘Don't worry about that. These beef and Yorkshire pudding things are delicious.’
‘Tell me, Theo!’
Silence.
‘Theo, does that creep rape you?’
Silence.
‘I'll assume from your lack of answer that he does,’ said Louis. ‘Theo…’
‘What good can it do you to know?’ snapped Theo. ‘I don't want to talk about that. We've far more important things to discuss before you have to go. Now eat!’
‘We could take him, you know, when he comes back,’ suggested Louis eagerly. ‘We could jump him. God, I'd love to give him the big boot in the bollocks…’
‘CAMERA, Louis!’ Theo said again. ‘Much as I applaud your sentiments, security would have us both in a stranglehold before you could blink. What good can come of us both being imprisoned?’
Softening at Louis's downcast expression, Theo patted his friend on the arm.
‘I know your intentions are good, Lou. Thank you for caring so much, but you've got to realise who you're up against here. These people are evil, and the most evil of the lot is William St Benedict.’
‘You never call him ‘‘Dad’’, do you?’
‘No; and what's more, I never will!’
The two friends ate in silence for a while, then Theo replaced the empty tray on the trolley.
‘Back under the covers, you. Someone will come and collect this imminently now they've seen I've finished.’
True to Theo's words, Stephen Dyer returned within a couple of minutes of Louis once more concealing himself.
‘Pigged out tonight, haven't yer, shit brains?’ drawled Dyer. ‘Keeping yer strength up for me?’
‘Only for you, Stevie Boy, only for you,’ replied Theo, voice heavy with sarcasm. Louis tensed slightly as he heard Dyer's hand connect hard with Theo's face. Hardly daring to breathe in case Dyer had noticed the movement under the pile of bedclothes, Louis was very relieved to hear the roll of the trolley's wheels as Dyer crossed to the door.
‘I've got better things to do with my time than waste it here with you. Sweet dreams, shit brains; cameras-off time oh-so-soon.’
Theo waited while the sound of Dyer's footsteps and the rattle of the trolley faded away before once again closing the bed curtains completely and pulling the covers off Louis.
‘Nice bloke, that Dyer,’ he said. ‘Who we are NOT going to spend any more time discussing!’
The two friends lay back down again side by side on the bed, and Theo continued with his sad story.
‘I was just coming up to my thirteenth birthday when Mum disappeared. It was a few years after Uncle Elliot had been murdered and it pretty much broke my Farrell grandparents. You know, of course, that Abi and Cameron's mother is Italian? Well, she sorted out a place for Grandma and Grandpa to live in Italy, away from all the sad memories. They went and never came back, even as the search for their daughter was in full swing over here.’
‘Didn't they feel they had to stay, see if she was found?’ asked Louis. Theo looked at him, eyes bright in the darkening room.
‘No. They left to live in Italy pretty much straight away,’ he replied. ‘Do you know what I believe, Louis? I think Mum's with them, kind of trapped in a way too.’
‘Trapped? How?’
‘Well, she can't just waltz back, can she? Oh, hi, William, I had to get away because you were making my life hell, but now I'm back! There's no way she'd have left Marina and me with…him…if there was any way, any way at all, that she could get to us.’
‘Was your father making her life hell then?’ asked Louis, remembering Lisa Lonsdale's tale of Isabelle's legendary kindness, so at odds with the usual ruthlessness of the Sponsors.
‘Yes,’ said Theo, ‘it's a particular talent of his. Mum was so kind, to everyo
ne. Even, shock horror, to the Unsponsored.’
Nodding, Louis told Theo how fondly Lisa and the Unsponsored remembered Isabelle.
‘I knew it! I knew people loved her; they just had to love her. She was so good. Sponsored, Unsponsored, it didn't matter to my mum. She cared about people because they were fellow human beings.
‘That, however, was the last thing…he…wanted to promote. He wanted to create a huge divide between the Sponsored and Unsponsored, make lack of Sponsorship carry a huge stigma, make the Sponsored so afraid to lose their endorsement that he could manipulate them any way he wanted. The rows between my parents were spectacular. This has always been my room, and…his…office is directly below. I could hear every word. I could hear every time he hit her. I heard him goading her when Uncle Elliot was murdered, telling her she'd be next if she didn't tow the Sponsorship line, telling her the rest of her family would be next, making it impossible for her to get to Applethwaite and enjoy the happy Farrell times any more. She never gave in, though, Louis. She was so brave, and I'm proud to be her son…’
Theo's voice faltered and Louis hugged his friend again.
‘Cry if you need to, Theo,’ he said, but Theo declined.
‘No, Louis. I'm an English lord, stiff upper lip and all that. More to the point, I'm Isabelle Farrell's son – I don't cry.’
Once again the two young men were silent, Louis thinking of his poor, drug-filled mother and wishing he could feel Theo's pride. As if he could read Louis's mind, Theo spoke.
‘My cousin is in love with you, Louis. Abilene is as strong as my mother, as her father was. She's a true Farrell, and if she views you as worthy of her love then you can be proud. I'm proud to call you my friend.’
Immensely touched by Theo's words, Louis took off his dark glasses in the gloom of the room and said, ‘Mutual, Theo. That feeling is mutual.’
‘When Mum disappeared, and Grandma and Grandpa went to Italy, I became a very angry young person. There was no way I was going to let him know I was upset; instead, I let him know that I'd heard the way he treated Mum. I accused him of killing her. I also accused him of being a tyrant, which he is, and told him I was going to tell the whole country what I knew and screw up his dictatorship for good.
‘Big mistake! God, I was naive. It was about then that I had my alleged nervous breakdown, poor weak-willed little boy who couldn't cope without his mummy. I've been in this decaying old room ever since.’
Louis realised the truth of Theo's description of the room; the luxury was clearly fading now he had a chance to look more closely, the once-beautiful furnishings starting to age. The room was like Theo in a way; hidden out of sight and left to age without care.
‘Once upon a time, I don't think…he…realised I could hear every word from the room below. Now he revels in it, inviting his closest allies into his inner sanctum to discuss delicate Sponsorship business, knowing I can hear every word but do nothing about it. That is, until now.’
‘I can do something about it!’ said Louis.
‘Indeed! There are plenty of things I could tell you that have gone before, but there's no point. They're done.’
‘Hang on, Theo; if you can hear every word from the room below, can't someone in the room below hear us?’
‘I don't think so. I'm pretty sure the acoustics don't work that way. Anyway, we're whispering, they don't.’
‘It's still a risk, Theo,’ said Louis, worried.
‘Look, if there was someone in there listening to our every word I think we'd know by now. Surely you've realised that security round here doesn't exactly move subtly.’
‘All the same…’
‘Shhh!’
Louis heard first-hand what Theo had been telling him about the acoustics as voices from the room below suddenly reached them loud and clear. Theo winced at the sound of his father's voice.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for arriving early this evening. I wanted the chance to speak to you before the social event begins.
‘You have all been with me since the birth of the Sponsorship scheme. I never forget how you believed in me then, and I'm happy that you've all had the opportunity to benefit from the Scheme's success. You are the people whose opinions I trust the most, and as such I once again need to turn to you for advice. Lysander!’ This time it was Louis's turn to flinch at his father's name. ‘I'm sorry to say it's Applethwaite giving me cause for concern – yet again.’
‘Lord William, if you'd let me, I'd like to propose that we go into Applethwaite and go in hard,’ said a nasal and rather whiny voice from below.
‘Mortimer O'Reilly,’ Theo whispered in Louis's ear.
‘The seer?’ Louis whispered back, grinning. Theo returned his grin and nodded.
‘The very same. Hush now, Trev.’
Below them, Louis's father was speaking.
‘WSB, what seems to be the problem? If you let me…’
‘I've let you too many times before, Trevelyan,’ roared Lord William, ‘ – with little or no effect. I'm beginning to think your affection for that wretched village overrides your common sense sometimes.’
There was the sound of laughter from below, the nasal voice laughing louder and longer than anyone else.
‘No, Lysander, I think we need to send out a clear message to Applethwaite. For too long we've let the provinces slip as we concentrated on the cities. Of course the cities are important, but now they're exactly where we want them. It's time to concentrate on tying up loose ends.
‘Now, Anthony here has repeatedly contacted that homosexual bloke running The White Lion in Applethwaite offering a very generous Hotel and Catering Sponsorship package. The idiot continues to reject the offer. He's had his chance, and I say we now make an example of him.’
Loud cheers greeted Lord William's words. In the clamour, Louis couldn't make out whether or not his father's voice joined the cheers.
‘What have you in mind?’ asked a female voice.
‘Dr Fiona Turnbull. Pro Spo,’ whispered Theo.
‘I think a beating should do the trick, either for Mont-fiore or his boyfriend,’ said Lord William casually. ‘The boyfriend I think. They consider themselves in love!’
More laughter.
‘Yes, the boyfriend. I'll get Stephen Dyer on the case.’
Horrified by what he heard, Louis whispered, ‘He's going to send Dyer after Alan,’ while downstairs another man was speaking.
‘David Foster,’ whispered Theo.
‘Sports,’ Louis whispered back before Theo could say the word. ‘Gideon told me about him.’
‘Any news from Barrington?’ David asked.
‘Not for a couple of days no, so we'll have to assume no news is good news.’
Upstairs, Louis breathed a sigh of relief. So far it would appear his absence had gone unnoticed.
‘The boy's keen; he'll do a good job for us,’ continued Lord William in the room below.
‘The boy's a bit thick, in my opinion, Lord William.’
‘Stephanie Rogers – Retail,’ whispered Theo.
‘Then I'll check on the boy right now. Put your mind at rest.’
There was a short silence from below, then Lord William's voice sounded clearly again.
‘Maxwell! Yes, yes…Indeed, I've no doubt it is an honour to hear from me. Now listen, Maxwell! I've got my most trusted Sponsors around me, and they're anxious to hear a report from you…Ill is he? To whom did you speak?…You spoke to Wallis, did you? Well done, well done. Keep up the good work, and keep me informed!’
Lord William clearly finished the phone call, and his voice became sarcastic as he addressed Lysander Trevelyan.
‘Apparently your son's ill,’ he said. ‘Strange you didn't think to mention it.’
‘I didn't know,’ said Lysander coolly. ‘I don't really have much time for Louis. Bit of a let-down as sons go.’
‘Not as big a let-down as mine,’ snorted Lord William. Then, a little impatiently, he added, ‘What is it,
Mortimer?’
‘Lord William, please don't forget…’
‘…Your prediction? I know, Mortimer. Lysander, give home a ring. See how your son is, be the dutiful father for once!’
Louis and Theo looked at each other in alarm. Again there were a few moments of silence from downstairs, then Lysander's voice carried up to them.
‘Nicola? It's Lysander, darling. How are you…Good. What about Louis? Just heard he's ill…Sunburnt…Yeah, silly sod, when will he ever learn? Can I speak to him?…No, let him sleep. Say hi to him later, get him to ring me on my mobile, yeah … Thanks, Nikki, love you too. Give Genevieve a big kiss for me. will you?…Yes, take care…Hang on, darling, Lord William wants a word.’
Once again Louis and Theo held their breath. Louis realised with surprise that one or other of his parents had been covering for him, and God help Lysander if he'd only been pretending to talk to Nicola. The next words put both their minds at rest.
‘Nicola!’ said William. ‘Lovely to hear your voice again…Yes thank you, I'm very well. Rose and Marina too; Theodore's not so good though, poor thing.’
Theo curled his lips in a snarl as the man he'd never call father again carried on.
‘Yes, Nicola, we do what we can for him, but it's pretty hopeless, truth be told.’
‘Devastated, isn't he!’ muttered Theo.
‘I hear your Louis's been sunbathing,’ Lord William was saying below them, still on the phone to Nicola Trevelyan. ‘Not the best idea for an albino…I should think he is sore. Give him my best, will you…And to you Nikki. Bye then.’
‘How did someone as bright as you end up with a son so dumb?’ Louis and Theo heard Lord William ask Lysander, laughing. ‘I must say, Mortimer, that Trevelyan the younger doesn't seem to present us with much cause for alarm. Come on now, people, I think I can hear my guests arriving downstairs.’
Louis and Theo lay silent for a while after the room below them had fallen quiet. Finally, his voice incredulous, Louis said, ‘My mother covered for me!’