by Alison Jack
‘Who cuts your hair, Theodore?’ barked His Lordship, looking in disgust at Theo's untidy, shoulder-length locks.
‘Nicky Clarke?’ replied Theo cheekily, naming a well-known hair stylist. ‘Who do you think, Your Lordship? I cut it myself!’
A couple of days later, a nervous hairdresser sat in Lord William St Benedict's office getting strict instructions from the great man himself to ‘give the boy a short back and sides.’ Like the St Benedict household staff, the hairdresser had heard many rumours about His Lordship's strange son, none of which turned out to be true. Again like the household staff, the hairdresser found Theo to be an immensely likeable young man, chatting amiably the whole time his hair was being cut and declaring himself delighted with the results.
If the members of Lord William's inner circle were surprised at finding Theo suddenly very much in evidence whenever they came to visit, they were all too polite to say so. That is with the exception of Lysander Trevelyan who, on first encountering the newly free Theo, said, ‘Good to see you, Theo! You look a lot better than the last time we met.’
‘Thank you, Lysander. I feel a lot better too.’ Lord William, realising that they were alluding to the ferocious beating Theo had taken in the summer, put a stop to their chat straight away.
As Christmas approached, Theo found himself rediscovering sights, sounds and smells almost forgotten from childhood. The house was fragrant with the smell of pine as trees and garlands were brought in to adorn the rooms. Almost beside himself with excitement, Theo helped decorate the trees with infectious, childlike enthusiasm. Even Lord William found himself constantly drawn over to the drawing room's windows, where Theo and Marina were unpacking top-quality decorations. Laughing at his son's attempts to hang ornaments from every inch of the impressive Christmas tree, Lord William said, ‘Tone it down a little, Theodore, or the tree will collapse. This is the one people can see from the road, so it needs to be a work of art.’
‘Don't let that prick near it then,’ said the sardonic voice of Lady Rosanna, who was sitting aloof in the corner of the room pretending to read a newspaper. ‘Life was so much nicer with him out of the way.’
‘Popular opinion would disagree with you, Rose darling. Our adoring public is delighted that we've managed to nurse poor Theodore back to full health, and good popular opinion is always good news for the Scheme.’
‘Does he have to be so much in evidence, though, Father? He's…’
‘I am here, by the way,’ Theo cut in.
‘Rosanna,’ replied Lord William, ‘as I thought I'd just explained, Theodore's reappearance into the public eye is good for the Scheme. Besides, I find it quite refreshing having him around the place. Now, have you any more to say on the matter?’
For a second, Lord William hoped that Rosanna would prove herself to be as stimulating company as her brother and argue back. Therefore, he found himself a little disappointed when she replied, ‘No, Father. Of course, you're right. The Scheme comes first.’
‘Hmm. Good. Theodore, I thought I said enough!’
Caught trying to put tinsel on the already heavily laden Christmas tree, Theo replied mockingly: ‘Of course, Your Lordship, you're so right Your Lordship, may I kiss your arse now Rosanna's finished, Your Lordship…’
‘THEODORE! If you're going to insult your sister, I suggest you go to your room. Ah, actually no. Stay! That'll be the photographer.’
Every year Lord William commissioned a top photographer to take pictures of his family, the best of which were made into Christmas cards for people considered worthy of receiving a seasonal greeting. This year, for the first time in a decade, Theo was to feature in the photos along with his sisters. Theo watched with great interest as stylists touched up his sisters’ hair and make-up, and household staff rearranged the Christmas tree decorations.
‘OK,’ said the photographer when everyone was ready to go. ‘Do you want a few with all of you, Lord William? Or just the youngsters?’
‘I think we'll go with just the youngsters for now.’
The photo shoot took a lot longer than expected; Lord William wasn't sure whether to be amused or exasperated at Theo's disruptive influence. The young man questioned every pose he was asked to make, laughing out loud when the photographer suggested he hand a gift to Rosanna.
‘How about I smash it over her head? That'd be a great picture!’
‘Father, do I have to…’
‘Yes, Rose, you do! Can you two please at least try to look like members of a happy family?’
In the end the photographer gave up on any attempt to get Theo and Rosanna to interact, settling finally on a series of shots with Marina in between the two of them. He then took some family photos including Lord William, even Theo behaving himself once his father was included. If it struck the photographer as odd that Theo always referred to his father as ‘Your Lordship’, and never ‘Father’, the man was far too wise to mention it. The formal photographs done, Lady Rosanna stalked off to mix herself a gin and tonic and the photographer got some shots of Theo and Marina relaxing together by the stunning Christmas tree. These shots turned out to be by far the best of the lot.
The photographer was still packing up his equipment when Lord William's guests started arriving for the drinks party scheduled for that evening. As he and Rosanna greeted the guests, Lord William was annoyed at the sound of the television going on as his son once again indulged his addiction. The polite buzz of conversation in the room was constantly interrupted by Theo's helpless laughter at the antics of Tom and Jerry, and eventually His Lordship snapped.
‘Theodore, will you turn that puerile nonsense off and join the soirée like an adult!’
A pair of light-brown eyes appeared over the back of the sofa, soon joined by a pair of blue eyes. Wherever Theo went, Marina was sure to follow.
‘Sorry, Your Lordship. I'll turn the sound down.’
‘You'll turn the television off and join the company, Theodore!’
‘Let him watch the cartoons, WSB,’ said Lysander Trevelyan. ‘God knows, he's missed out on a huge chunk of his childhood.’
As soon as the words left his lips, Lysander wished he had engaged brain before opening mouth. The buzz of conversation died down immediately as Lord William turned to face Lysander, eyes flashing ominously.
‘Turn the television off, Theodore!’ Theo did as he was told, recognising that it would be the worse for Lysander were he to enrage his father even more. He then walked over to join the company as Lord William spoke again.
‘Are you questioning the way I treat my son, Lysander?’
‘No, Lord William, of course not…’
‘You are aware, are you not, that Theodore brought everything on himself? You are aware, are you not, of the need to teach Theodore to show respect for the Scheme?’
‘Really, I didn't mean…’
‘What did you mean then, Lysander?’ Watching Lysander's usually confident face becoming more and more anxious, Mortimer O'Reilly was virtually licking his lips with excitement.
‘I feel I have been very generous in my treatment of Theodore, yet you feel the need to criticise. I could quite easily arrange it for Theodore…’
‘Excuse me, I am here,’ Theo cut in for the second time that evening.
‘Theodore,’ said his father, ‘do you feel that you've missed out on your childhood as Lysander here seems to think?’
‘Not at all, Your Lordship,’ replied Theo, apparently the only relaxed person in the room. ‘Being locked in a decaying room is every boy's dream, surely?’
‘Answer without the insolence, you ungrateful little shit!’ roared Lord William, totally losing his temper with his overconfident son, much to Lady Rosanna's delight. ‘I am your FATHER for God's sake – stop calling me ‘‘Your Lordship’’!’
The room was perfectly silent as Theo walked across the floor, slowly and deliberately, until he was standing almost nose to nose with his father. Marina's eyes slid from view as she concealed h
erself once again behind the back of the sofa, offering a silent prayer that Theo wouldn't infuriate their father any further. Nobody else in the room could take their eyes from Lord William and Theo. As her brother spoke, Marina realised her prayer had gone unheeded.
‘No, you are not my father. I will NEVER call you ‘‘Father’’. Father is a title that needs to be earned, it can't be demanded, no matter how important you are in your…precious…Scheme!’ Theo pretty much spat the last word into Lord William's face. Taking a short while to compose himself, Lord William's voice was quiet but menacing when he spoke again.
‘Fellows? Would you and Mr Dyer take my son to my office? Stephen is well acquainted with the appropriate punishment.’
Knowing what was in store for Theo, Lysander murmured, ‘Theo, I'm so sorry,’ as Theo passed on his way to the door and his punishment.
‘Don't mention it, Lysander,’ replied Theo, grabbing Lysander's hand briefly. All eyes were on Theo as the young man left the room, head held high, and so no one noticed Lysander slip the folded paper he'd just been handed into his pocket.
Heading home a couple of days later to celebrate Louis's birthday, the soirée at the St Benedict residence was still in the forefront of Lysander's mind. Why hadn't he held his tongue? Guilt overwhelmed him yet again as he realised the pain that his foolish words had caused Theo. As soon as the young man had left the room, Lord William had turned to his company with a big smile and had encouraged them to eat, drink and be merry. All far too scared to go against Lord William's orders, everyone had made a brave attempt to recapture the relaxed and sociable air of earlier, but however much the conversation buzzed it was never quite enough to drown out the steady crack of the whip from the room above. Finally, mercifully, the whip ceased to crack and the footfalls of the two security guards were heard descending the stairs. Now that her brother was back in his rightful place, Lady Rosanna became the life and soul of the party, and Lord William was pleased to see his guests gradually relaxing in his elder daughter's sparkling company. No one noticed Lord William's younger daughter slip from the room; no one apart from Lysander Trevelyan, who was slightly mollified by the knowledge that Theo was at least going to receive some tender loving care.
The day after the drinks party, and the day before Louis's birthday, Lysander was summoned to the St Benedict residence once more. Although expecting the summons, it didn't make him any less nervous as he climbed the steps to the impressive front door, but at least the anticipation had afforded him the opportunity to compose himself. Expecting to be shown to Lord William's office, Lysander was a little taken aback to instead find himself in the more comfortable surroundings of the drawing room.
‘Good morning, Lysander; you know why you're here, I take it?’ Lord William said by way of greeting.
‘Yes, Your Lordship.’
‘Why are you here, Lysander?’
‘Because I'm an outspoken fool, Your Lordship.’
At that moment, the drawing room door opened and in came Theo and Marina; Theo dressed in an oversized check shirt. Nodding a greeting at Lord William and smiling briefly at Lysander, Theo threw a bean bag on to the floor in front of the television. Laying belly down on top of the bean bag, he then immersed himself in his favourite cartoons once more. Completely in awe of the young man's composure, Lysander smiled before he had a chance to stop himself.
Oh dear, he thought. Looking nervously at Lord William, Lysander was surprised to see his boss smiling too.
‘He never learns, does he?’ said His Lordship, unable to hide the hint of pride in his voice. ‘Go on, Lysander; you may leave. I understand you're heading north soon?’
‘Yes. It's Louis's birthday tomorrow.’
‘Ah yes, Loopy Louis. Go on, get out!’
Relieved to have got off so lightly, and relieved that Theo seemed to be as strong as ever, Lysander did as he was told.
When Lysander arrived in Applethwaite the following afternoon he was surprised to find his home quiet and deserted. Not a soul was in the house, not even Nicola in her usual sickbed. Putting his bag down in the hall, Lysander took out the card and present he'd got for Louis, and also Theo's note, then headed into the village. There was no doubt at all where a lot of Applethwaite residents were to be found. The White Lion was jubilant with the sounds of laughter and a live band playing, welcoming light pouring from the bar into the darkening street outside. As Lysander approached, Chris Farrell appeared in the doorway and sent the cork from a champagne bottle flying into the street before vanishing back inside.
The scene that greeted Lysander when he went into the pub was so different to Lord William's stiff and nervous soirée that he couldn't help but smile with glee. The words ‘Happy Birthday, Louis’ were written in huge, colourful letters on the chalk boards over the top of the bar, and a large Christmas tree added its warm glow to that of the blazing log fire. Displayed around the bar were a number of birthday cards for his son. The band was playing a cheerful selection of well-known songs, noisily but not too badly, and Lysander was surprised to see a beaming Max Barrington on drums. The birthday boy himself was jumping around in time to the music, one arm around Abi Farrell's shoulders, bottle of champagne held aloft in the other hand. Lysander spied a happy and alert-looking Nicola sitting next to Gideon Wallis, while Sarah Lonsdale danced some sort of jig with Jenny. There were a number of people Lysander didn't recognise enjoying the music and the high-spirited party; judging by their accents not all were local.
As the occupants of the bar noticed Lysander standing foolishly by the door, the party spirit faltered quite alarmingly. The band stopped abruptly, Max looking positively terrified at having been caught by a high-ranking Sponsor, and the dancing also slowed to a standstill. Eventually Louis spoke, slurring his words a little from the champagne but still coherent.
‘Hello, Dad. Glad you could make it.’
‘I'm glad too. Please don't stop the party on my account. Happy birthday, Louis; these are for you.’
Louis accepted his father's card and present with a smile, then hugged Lysander in gratitude as he unwrapped a stylish and very expensive watch.
‘It's cool, Dad, really nice,’ said Louis, not having the heart to tell his father that he didn't like to wear any jewellery on his sensitive skin. ‘Here, would you like some champers?’
As Lysander accepted the glass of champagne offered to him and kissed his wife, who was, as ever, delighted to see him, the partygoers started to relax and soon become even more high-spirited than before. Dex started playing the opening bars of ‘Whiter Shade of Pale’ until Matilda said, through her microphone, ‘Tactless, Dex!’
‘Thought you were playing that in my honour,’ said Louis, laughing at Dex's horrified expression.
‘Sorry, Bleachy, don't think we'll go with that one,’ called Max from behind his drum kit, relaxing now he realised that Lysander hadn't brought a legion of Sponsor thugs with him.
‘As you wish, Moronis Maximus,’ replied Louis, grinning. Although he and Max were still a little mistrustful of one another, the name calling between them, once designed to be hurtful, had now developed into light-hearted banter.
‘LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL!’ yelled Matilda into the microphone, and the band started up once more. Placing a hand on Louis's arm just before his son launched himself back on to the dance floor, Lysander said, ‘This is for you too, Louis.’
Taking Theo's slip of paper from his father, Louis read the words dancing about before his eyes then let out a bellow of pure joy. Passing the note to Abi he said excitedly, ‘Look at this, Abi! Look!’
Abi, too, read the note, then flung her arms round Louis as they hugged and danced in celebration. Taking the paper from Abi's fingers, Matilda, lead singer of Dory's Avengers, hushed the rest of the band then delightedly read out the letter to the whole pub.
‘‘‘Hey, Louis/Trev, Happy birthday, my friend. Wish I could join you, I'm there in spirit. Have a good one, get extra drunk for me, will you? Everything's coo
l here. Love you. Love to Abi. Love to everyone else. Theo/Dory x.’’’
Chapter Ten
If Lysander had thought the party high-spirited before the public reading of Theo's letter to Louis, it was nothing on the huge wave of exuberance that followed. As Louis's friends cheered and screamed their joy at word from Theo, the band struck up a thrash version of ‘Celebrate’. It took a long time for things to quieten down enough for any coherent conversation, and it was to Lysander's dismay that he was the first topic of that conversation.
‘Matty, do you think it was wise to read that out in front of him?’ said Max, jerking his head in Lysander's direction. ‘Especially as you've kind of blown the cover of Dory's Avengers!’
‘Oh, I thought you were avenging a fish,’ replied Lysander, trying to mask his unease and making the tipsy Abi giggle.
‘Told you!’ she said. ‘Fish have rights.’
However, others in the room weren't so humorous. Chloe, who'd managed to get up north for Louis's birthday with her father, Rob, Jim and the others who'd befriended him in London, said seriously, ‘Max is right, you know. He might be your dad, Louis, but he's also one of St Benedict's lapdogs.’
Equally serious, Nicola defended her husband.
‘Remember who brought the letter to Louis? Lysander had plenty of opportunity to read it on the way here. He could have just not delivered it at all. He could,’ she continued, rising from her place beside Gideon to cross over to Lysander and take his hand, ‘have handed it in to St Benedict!’
Everyone in the room paused to take in Nicola's words. Chloe started to say, ‘Yes, but all the same…’
‘I'm with Nikki on this one,’ Gideon interrupted, unexpectedly. ‘Lysander had every opportunity to betray us all. He didn't.’
‘Thank you Gideon…’ began Lysander, but Gideon interrupted again.
‘That doesn't mean I don't think you're an arrogant fuck, who neglects his wife and kids deplorably,’ he snapped.