by Alison Jack
At first, a lot of Dory's Avengers had shared Abi and Gideon's concerns about the idea of tackling the Sponsors very publicly at the Games, but by Christmas Eve everyone had decided it would be the perfect opportunity. Abi still had nightmares about Dyer dealing with Louis as he'd dealt with her father, but at least this time she wouldn't be around to have to cope with the pain of loss. If Lord William's thugs were going to take her boyfriend down, they'd have to tear her apart to get to him!
Matilda, unsurprisingly, embraced what Gideon had called Louis's wild notion with her usual enthusiasm. Shrieking her delight when she'd heard Louis's news, she immediately recognised the chance it gave them.
‘We'll expose His Lordshit and his bastards, and the whole world will be there to watch!’
By Christmas Eve, her spirits weren't dampened one jot by the caution of some of her friends. Every so often she'd halt the band and announce what she was going to do to various high-ranking Sponsors.
‘O'Reilly’s gonna get his crystal ball wrapped round his head. Bet he won't see that coming!’
‘I'm going to tie His Lordshit and Bitch Rose back to back and float them off down the river on a burning boat!’
‘Abi, Cam; I know Dyer's yours to finish, but can I give him a kick in the bollocks for my dad…’
‘I'll do that myself, with pleasure,’ said Alan. ‘Nice and hard – make sure he'll never be able to reproduce!’
‘Yeah, he can have some sore nuts from me too while we're about it,’ added Dex.
‘Well, that's settled,’ said Matilda, laughing her wild laugh. ‘I'm sure no one's going to mind if Dyer ends up with very sore genitals?’
‘Not at all, Matty,’ replied Abi with a grin, ‘you won't find me arguing!’
Lysander took everything in as he sat with Nicola, enjoying the informal company of the Unsponsored more and more each time he came home. Just as he was feeling surprised that Dory's Avengers talked so freely in front of him, Max turned and said, ‘Guys, remember there's a Sponsor in our midst!’
‘Yes,’ replied Matilda, shrieking with laughter again. ‘You, Maxwell!’
‘I meant…’
‘I know, Moronis Maximus. Just remember we let you in. Lysander's got to have his chance too.’
Walking over to Lysander, Matilda clinked her bottle of beer against his pint glass and kissed him soundly on the head.
‘Good job I'm not the jealous type, Matty,’ said Nicola, laughing along with the impetuous young woman.
‘Saving myself for Dory, Nik; don't you fret. Besides, your husband's too Sponsor-endorsed for me, not to mention the fact he's older than my dad.’ Dodging playful swipes from both Nicola and her husband, Matilda sprang back onto the stage and led the band in a high-speed version of Madonna's ‘Papa Don't Preach’.
Lifting a sleeping Jenny in his arms a little later on, Lysander took his leave of the company.
‘Big day for little girls tomorrow,’ he said, kissing his daughter lightly on the head. ‘Best get her home so Father Christmas can do his thing!’
‘I'll take her…’ Sarah began, but Lysander interrupted.
‘You stay, Sarah! I want to be the one to take her home; God knows, I've got some catching up to do with my kids.’
‘I'll come too,’ said Nicola to her husband's delight. ‘Merry Christmas all; see you for lunchtime beers tomorrow. DORY'S AVENGERS FOR EVER!’
‘DORY'S AVENGERS! MERRY CHRISTMAS!’ yelled everyone in return. Lurking outside, a couple of Lord William's spies wondered what the hell Dory's Avengers meant, before wishing once again that they could get back to the warmth of the Applethwaite Guesthouse. The Unsponsored who frequented The White Lion were well aware that spies were in constant attendance in their village, and these particular Sponsor spies had been barred very politely but very firmly by Dexter Montfiore.
‘Sorry, guys,’ he'd said when they'd tried to enter the bar a few days earlier. ‘We're not endorsed. Unsponsored only, I'm afraid.’ Unused to the discrimination usually only levelled at the Unsponsored, the spies tried to argue, but Dex carried on. ‘I'm real sorry here, guys; Sponsor rules, not mine.’
Realising that he was right, the spies had to content themselves with cold nights crouching outside the pub trying to make out conversations over the constant noise of the band. That was where they were on Christmas Eve; freezing in the fresh night air while the Unsponsored enjoyed a joyful party in the warmth of the inn. Nudging his mate, one of the spies jerked his head at a couple leaving the pub and said, ‘Trevelyans! Do you want to follow them?’
Watching Lysander and Nicola walking off chatting happily, the sleeping Jenny held safely in her father's arms, the other spy realised how much he was missing his own small children.
‘No, mate,’ he said, ‘it's Christmas. Santa's got to visit the little ’un…’
Unable to continue, so acute was his longing to be home, the Sponsor spy felt the first seeds of doubt in his mind. Being Sponsored meant good prospects, good homes, happy families? No, actually; at that moment in time being Sponsored meant being in the freezing cold on Christmas Eve, miles from his family, while the Unsponsored got drunk in the warm.
Inside the pub, the exuberance reached new levels after Lysander had departed and more beer flowed. Despite Louis and Nicola's constant assurances that Lysander wouldn't betray Dory's Avengers as that would mean betraying his own family, a lot of the Avengers still found themselves deeply suspicious of the Director of Leisure and Fitness. Louis won gold at the Games at least three more times before the night was out; and Max's hastily written Unsponsored News, carrying word of His Lordship's inclusion of Louis in Team GB and asking for feedback, was to be found on every surface. By the time the party broke up, and Louis headed for home with Abi in his arms, while a very drunk Sarah wheeled Gideon's chair on a slalom down the main street, the spies had long given up watching. Seeing the group pass, laughing, singing and playfully jostling each other as they went, the doubt-filled Sponsored spy silently wished them all a merry Christmas from his lonely room.
Back at the Trevelyan home, Gideon was settled on a comfortable mattress in the family room and supplied with an alarm to call Sarah if he needed anything. Brushing away his indignant protests that he didn't want a woman seeing him piss, Sarah argued that they'd known each other long enough for it not to matter.
‘I won't take advantage of you, Gideon,’ she slurred, giggling and making Gideon wonder out loud whether she'd even hear the alarm. Louis made his way up to bed with Abi, laughing at Gideon's feigned horror when Louis kissed him goodnight.
‘Good God, Trevelyan; you're getting camper than Alan!’
Louis knew full well that Gideon was delighted to be spending Christmas with the Trevelyans, so he just grinned at his mentor's unconvincing grumbles. Looking in on Jenny, the young couple both kissed the sleeping child gently on the head and noted that Father Christmas had already paid a visit.
‘What a relief for Mum and Dad,’ said Louis, grinning towards his parents darkened bedroom. ‘Santa turned up early so they could get to bed!’
Giggling again, they made their own way to bed. In between increasingly passionate kisses, Louis said, ‘Happy Christmas, Abi darling. I got you this; I hope you like it,’ before covering her body with his.
While Louis and Abi were having rather drunken sex in Louis's bedroom up north, Theo was sitting disconsolately watching the fire in his father's drawing room slowly die. Tired though he was, Theo knew there was far too much going on in his mind for him to sleep. Besides that, he'd already spent too much of his life in his bedroom. Going over the events of the evening, particularly Marina's accusation, Theo was having a fierce battle with his conscience.
‘Do you really like Cathie, or are you just using her?’ asked the conscience.
‘I think I like her. Really!’
‘Why?’
‘She's pretty, and sweet.’
‘Sweet?’
‘You heard.’
‘You'
re not helping the Sponsors?’
‘ABSOLUTELY NOT!’
‘Not even for an easy life?’
‘Oh come on, remember where I've been for the last ten years? Remember why?’
‘OK, OK. Not for the Scheme's sake. That's something, but are you sure it's not just because you want to get laid?’
‘Umm; no, it's because I like her.’
‘Sure? What about Matilda?’
‘Matilda isn't here.’
‘She's a goddess in your head…’
‘That's in my head; she might be a munter in real life. Cathie's real. I can touch her. She's pretty. She smells nice…’
‘She gives you a hard-on.’
‘No! Yes! What's wrong with that? I fancy her.’
‘More than Matilda the goddess?’
‘I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! Get off my case, will you?’
‘Temper, Theodore. Maybe you are the crazy boy everyone thought you to be, arguing with yourself. Louis's not listening, you know; I bet he's far too busy with your cousin.’
‘I bet he is too, lucky git.’
‘Oh? You fancy your cousin now? You Lords are terrible…’
‘Oh, piss off out of my head, will you!’
‘Can't do that; I'm you, remember?’
Gradually, the argument raging in Theo's head quietened as the last flames went out. The last thing he remembered thinking was that he'd got to make things up to Marina in the morning, before he fell asleep on the sofa. It was the amiable housekeeper Mrs White who did the final rounds of the house that Christmas Eve. She'd been waiting and waiting for the last occupant of the drawing room to go to bed so she could lay the family presents out under the tree. Lord William had an uncharacteristically childlike love of finding the floor covered with gifts on Christmas morning, gifts that hadn't been there the previous night, so each year the household staff took it in turns to play Father Christmas. Finally, a little irritated that the last St Benedict seemed to want to spend the whole night in the room, Mrs White tiptoed in with the first of the gifts. Bracing herself for a possible barrage of abuse from Lady Rosanna, Mrs White instead saw Lord Theodore fast asleep on one of the sofas and her face relaxed into a smile. Arranging all the presents around the tree, Mrs White then went to fetch a blanket to keep Theo warm while he slept, impulsively kissing him on the cheek before she left.
‘Sweet dreams, Lord Theodore. Merry Christmas,’ she whispered before leaving him to sleep, bathed in the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights.
Theo awoke in a state of confusion on Christmas morning, disturbed by one of the household maids coming into the drawing room to make up the fire for the day. She'd been a little surprised to see Theo fast asleep on the sofa, but certainly not nervous as she would have been had she walked in on the abrasive Lady Rosanna or, worse, the terrifying Lord William. Like most of the other staff, the maid felt the St Benedict residence to be a much happier place since Theo had been freed from his room. She found him to be a lovely person to have around the house, and not just because he was drop-dead gorgeous! Again taking her lead from the older staff, she didn't ever question out loud why he'd been shut away for so long when there was quite clearly nothing wrong with him. Trying to clean out the grate as quietly as possible, she failed abysmally and it wasn't long before Theo had lifted a tousled head and enquired as to where he was.
‘Drawing room, Lord Theodore,’ replied the maid, smiling over at him. ‘Bit too much vino last night, was it?’
Theo laughed his easy laugh, so different to his sister or father who would have barked at her to learn some respect.
‘I think you may be right, Annie,’ he said. ‘My head's a bit woolly.’
Delighted that the lovely Lord Theodore remembered her name, but not really surprised as he and Lady Marina always went out of their way to treat the staff with respect, Annie grinned and asked, ‘Can I get you anything, Lord Theodore? Black coffee, maybe?’
‘White coffee would be lovely, please, two sugars,’ replied Theo, returning Annie's grin. ‘But only when you've finished what you're doing. Oh, and merry Christmas!’
Theo drank his coffee in the drawing room, his eyes constantly drawn to the glowing Christmas tree and the exciting pile of presents underneath it, before returning his mug to the kitchen two floors below. The kitchen was a hive of activity; preparations for the family Christmas dinner were in full swing and popular seasonal songs were blaring from the radio. All the staff seemed to be in high spirits, apart from the eternally miserable head of household, Brian Mooreland.
‘Lord Theodore,’ he said stiffly, finding it difficult to treat the young man with respect after so many years of being permitted to treat him like rubbish. ‘One of the servants would have fetched that mug; there was really no need…’
‘It's fine, Mr Mooreland. I wanted the opportunity to wish everyone merry Christmas before it all gets too manic. Oh, and thank you whoever put the blanket over me last night. It was much appreciated. Was it you, Mrs White?’
Going over to kiss Mrs White soundly, making her blush like a schoolgirl, Theo declared her to be ‘kindness personified’. Immensely irritated by the way all his staff clearly adored Theo, Brian Mooreland began snapping out instructions with even less festive spirit than before, doing his utmost to dampen the mood in the kitchen.
‘Go easy on them, Mr Mooreland; it is Christmas Day,’ suggested Theo as he left the room. ‘I can tell you didn't have a visit from a trio of Christmas ghosts during the night!’
Chuckling as he made his way upstairs to shower and put on some less creased clothing before breakfast, Theo hoped his wisecrack wouldn't make Mooreland even harder on the staff. Judging by the laughter of the high-spirited kitchen staff as Theo left, he decided that they probably wouldn't care how grumpy their boss got. So engrossed was Theo in his thoughts that he almost walked in to Marina at the top of the stairs to the third floor.
‘Oh!’ said Theo in surprise. ‘Didn't see you there, so sorry. Merry Christmas, Mari darling.’
Stooping to kiss his sister on the cheek, Theo was dismayed when she turned her face away.
‘OK, Mari,’ said Theo, ‘I'm not putting up with any more of this. Come over here!’ Not giving Marina any chance to reply, he took her hand and dragged her over to the window seat overlooking the handsome back garden of the St Benedict residence.
‘Hit me with it. Shout, scream, slap my face if you want, but don't give me the silent treatment. It'll only spoil your day as much as it'll spoil mine.’
‘You know what's wrong, Theo,’ said Mari, trying and failing to free her hand from her brother's. ‘I told you last night. I can't believe you're just using Catherine to help the Sponsorship Scheme…’
‘Well, if you can't believe it, why are you believing it then?’ interrupted Theo. ‘Am I to be allowed to put my side across or am I already guilty?’ When Marina didn't reply, Theo continued. ‘I thought long and hard about what you said last night, Mari. Actually, I never got to bed; I've just woken up on the drawing-room sofa. Do you actually think I'd do anything to help out the Scheme…?’
This time it was Marina's turn to interrupt. ‘No, I don't think that, Theo. You're not the only one who couldn't sleep last night for thinking. However, I still don't think your reasons for chatting up Catherine are pure and true, are they? I heard what you asked for as a Christmas present, remember? Is it Catherine you want, or could she be anyone, just as long as you get laid? And,’ Marina continued, staring into Theo's eyes as she warmed to her task, ‘if you're just using her for your own purposes, not bothered that she stands to end up badly hurt, how does that make you any different to Father?’
Marina finally managed to free her hand from Theo's, and she sat looking at her fingers having said all she needed to say. When Theo finally spoke, she lifted her eyes to his once more, anxious to glean the truth in his words.
‘I thought about that too, Mari,’ he said. ‘I thought about it for hours. I'll admit that it was His Lordship's s
uggestion I chat Cathie up in the first place. I'll also admit that I did it to start with just because I could see that…God this is going to sound big-headed…’
‘You could see she fancied the pants off you?’
‘Er, yes. Thank you, Mari. I could see, er, that, and I admit to begin with I was thinking with…’
‘Your cock?’
‘Yes, Mari, once again concise and to the point. But’ – seeing Marina about to speak, he held up his hand to hush her – ‘last night I went over it all in my conscience. It's your accusation that started it, and I thank you for that. The last person I want to be like is…him…so I needed to be sure in my head. Do you know what I finally came up with?’
‘Tell me then, Theo.’
‘I like Cathie. I'm glad I've been given the opportunity to get to know her because I genuinely like her. I can't wait to see her again. I wish I'd had time to buy her a Christmas present. I want to make her laugh, hold her, smell her hair, spend time in her company…’
‘Why? What do you find so special about Catherine?’
‘Bloody hell, Mari, a minute ago you were accusing me of not liking her enough. What is so special about Cathie is quite simply this: she reminds me of Mum. Cathie's kind, gentle, thoughtful; all those wonderful things our mother was… is…and do you really think I'd deliberately break the heart of someone like that?’
Marina, looking for all the world like a younger version of their mother, relaxed and smiled warmly at her brother. Theo's brown eyes were sincere, and his words were a huge relief to her. Hugging him close, she said, ‘Merry Christmas, darling Theo. I didn't really think you were turning into Father.’
‘You did for a moment, Mari, but it's OK,’ said Theo, returning her hug and laughing. ‘You were wrong.’
Chapter Thirteen
Although their Christmases were very different, both Theo and Louis enjoyed the festive season immensely. While Louis was taking his turn to race down the snowy foothills of ’Thwaite's Fell on Jenny's brand-new sledge, Gideon screaming from the window of Chris Farrell's van that the gymnast better not break any limbs, Theo was enjoying the experience of swapping presents with his family for the first time in his adult life. With the help of Mrs White, Theo had chosen presents from a catalogue and she'd gone out to make the actual purchases. Lord William allowed his son some money from Theo's own savings account for the purpose, an account that had been growing untouched for Theo's entire life. For Mrs White, Theo had secured the best of the professional photos of him and Marina, on which he'd written: ‘Dear Mrs White, thanks for all your help and for being the sweetheart you are. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, lots of love from Theo xxx.’ Embarrassed that it was rather a pathetic gift, he presented it with an apology which died on his lips as Mrs White was so obviously delighted.