by Alison Jack
‘They went off to find Matty,’ said Lysander. ‘You can imagine the state Alan was working himself into with his daughter being out in the woods and all those thugs milling about. No one expects the newlyweds to work the day after their wedding, so I'm covering the bar.’ Smiling wryly, Lysander added, ‘It's nice to be doing a worthwhile job for once in my life.’
‘Now then,’ said Philip when everyone had sat down, ‘have you had a chance to see Theodore since he left the party last night, Louis?’
‘Not yet, Philip. I told him I'd meet him in the woods, but my opportunities are going to be a little limited with that lot on my tail.’ Looking out of the window where Dyer and his men were still swarming around, Louis sighed and added, ‘Theo must think I've deserted him…’
‘I'm sure Theodore knows how tenacious his father's security guards can be, Louis, and he's shrewd enough to know that they'll be keeping a particular eye on you.’ Smiling at Jess as she came over to join them, Philip added, ‘Do we tell them now, Jess?’
‘I think it's about time, Philip, yes. My children especially have a right to know.’ All the youngsters looked at Jess and Philip questioningly, Abi wondering fleetingly whether her mother was going to confess to a passionate affair with Cathie's father. Reading Abi's mind, Philip smiled at her.
‘Don't worry, Abilene; I'm still very happily married to Simone and there's nothing untoward going on between myself and your mother. There are two things you need to know. When Miss Santiago left to find Theodore last night she took a key to Gideon's cottage with her. Lovely though the wood is, Theodore can't hide out there for ever; Gideon's place is out of the way and unlikely to attract attention.’
Louis nodded at the truth of Philip's words, remembering his first impressions of the apparently abandoned cottage that housed his mentor.
‘I'm still a little angry about the manner in which Theodore moved on from my daughter as soon as he made Miss Santiago's acquaintance, but I'm man enough to realise that these things happen. Besides,’ Philip looked over at Cathie, sitting in a corner of the pub with Max and laughing merrily, ‘it doesn't appear to have done my little girl any harm. Anyway, I digress. I'm sure Dyer wouldn't have been able to resist a gloat if Miss Santiago had fallen into the thugs’ hands, so I think we can assume she reached ’Thwaite's Wood and Theodore safely. By now, Theodore should not only be in the relative safety of Gideon's cottage, he should also be reunited with his mother…’
Philip smiled as his words were greeted by uproar, as he'd expected them to be. Of the people in the inn only he, Simone and Jess were aware that Isabelle had returned, and so he'd taken the youngsters totally by surprise. Eventually he shushed them; especially Abi and Cameron who were very vocally celebrating the fact that their aunt was alive, well and back in Applethwaite.
‘Hush now. Abi, hush! I know you're pleased; of course you are, but remember who's just outside. If it gets back to His Lordshit that Isabelle's back he'll tear the place apart to get to her…’
‘OK, OK!’ said Abi, calming herself with difficulty and sitting down beside Louis. ‘Auntie Izzy's back home, though. Theo must be…’
‘Theo knew she was alive,’ said Louis. ‘He never doubted it for a second. He told me when I first went to London, when he was still trapped in that awful bedroom.’
‘He told me too,’ said Cathie, coming over with Max to join in the conversation, ‘and I told Mum and Daddy…’
‘Which put me in mind to go and look for Isabelle,’ Philip finished Cathie's statement. ‘Once Cathie had acquainted Simone and me with the horrors of Theodore's life, we were all determined to do whatever we could to help the poor lad. Simone and Cathie approached the London Unsponsored, and got to know Chloe here among others…’
Chloe and Cathie smiled at each other, then Cathie took up the narrative.
‘While Mum and I were making plans with the Unsponsored to get Theo out of London, Dad went off into Europe to try and find Isabelle. It didn't take long; she's been living with her parents. Left with them ten years ago…’
‘Theo kind of guessed that too,’ said Louis. ‘He wasn't fazed by the fact his grandparents left to live in Italy when their daughter was supposedly missing, so he guessed she probably went with them. He told me His Lordshit had pretty much made Isabelle's life unbearable by then.’
‘Why didn't His Lordshit find Auntie Izzy then?’ asked Abi. It was her mother who answered.
‘Izzy believes it's because he didn't give a damn. He told her that if she ever set foot in England again he'd kill her and make Rosanna, Theo and Marina watch…’
‘Rose would probably enjoy that,’ interrupted Adam miserably.
Jess patted Adam on the arm, then said, ‘Izzy didn't doubt that His Lordshit would carry out his threat; he'd spent a few years demonstrating how cruel he could be. He regularly hit her, but she told me she could cope with that. What nearly broke her was when he used to laugh in her face about Elliot's murder, and how he could easily do the same to her. Even though His Lordshit was so cruel, though, she never believed he would actually hurt his own children. Particularly not Theo. His Lordshit wanted a son and heir so much, and Izzy said he used to adore Theo.’
Looking guiltily at her hands, Jess continued: ‘I didn't tell her. All the while she was in Italy, I never told her that Theo had disappeared from the public eye. I just used to say we didn't see any of the St Benedicts any more, which wasn't strictly a lie. Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I knew she'd be straight back if she thought for a second something had happened to Theo…’
‘Would you have told Izzy if you'd known exactly how awful Theo's life had become?’ asked Louis.
‘I don't know, Louis; I really don't know, but possibly I would have done,’ said Jess sadly. ‘In Izzy's shoes, I'd want to know if someone was being so cruel to my children. I'd want to be there to protect them, but in Izzy's case that would have meant walking to her death. Every day I've questioned whether I made the right decision…’
‘I think you did the right thing,’ said Lysander, joining the group. ‘I know just how evil this man is. Izzy couldn't help Theo while His Lordshit had his son at his mercy…’
‘Which is why,’ interrupted Jess, ‘we decided to wait until we could get Theo out of London and up to Applethwaite. I know you're all going to ask why I didn't let you know long ago that Izzy was fine…’
‘Yes!’ said Abi and Cameron in unison.
‘She asked me not to tell you. I'm sorry, my loves, but she wanted as few people as possible to know. It's not that she didn't trust you, but…well, look at your reaction when you first heard she was back. You're young, you're impetuous…’
‘But if His Lordshit didn't care where she was, what would it matter?’ asked Abi.
‘His Lordshit wanted Izzy out of sight and out of mind, no longer a threat to his Scheme. He wouldn't have been so relaxed if he'd realised she was communicating with her family and friends here…’
‘And you thought we'd give her away?’
‘NO, Abi darling!’ Jess looked at her hands again for a second or two to compose herself. ‘It just seemed safer to tell as few people as possible…’
‘Did Uncle Chris know?’
‘Yes, but no one else. Believe me, nothing you can say can match the tantrum Izzy had when she realised I'd been keeping things from her, things concerning her children. I'm just going to have to live with the decisions I made, and I think now Izzy realises I made those decisions in good faith…’
Jess was interrupted at that moment by a commotion from the street outside. Looking out of the window, The White Lion occupants saw Alan, Dex and Matilda being confronted by a bloody-faced Dyer and his thugs.
‘Where is he, you little slut?’ yelled Dyer at Matilda. ‘Where's Lord Theodore?’
‘Don't you DARE call my daughter a slut,’ replied Alan, furiously trying to get at Dyer as Dex held him back.
‘Who's going to stop me, faggot?’ spat Dyer. ‘Gonna slap me with
your handbag, are you?’
‘Looks like someone's already given you a slap, you disgusting creep,’ roared Alan. ‘I'm going to find out who and SHAKE THEIR HAND!’
‘You'll get another kicking, you fucking queer,’ yelled Dyer. ‘And we'll finish the job properly this time. Shame we didn't drown you last summer.’
‘You fucking stay away from Al!’ shouted Dex, all pretence at holding back forgotten at the mention of Alan's horrific beating the previous summer.
‘And you're not going to get your filthy hands on Theo,’ added Matilda, ‘ever again!’
‘Yeah?’ Dyer was so angry he was virtually shrieking his words. ‘Who's going to stop me?’
‘We are,’ said Louis, his voice quiet but strong enough to silence both his friends and the loathsome Dyer. Looking over, Dyer was about to argue until he saw who Louis meant. The White Lion had emptied, its occupants now standing in solidarity behind Alan, Dex and Matilda, and all the while more and more Unsponsored were appearing in the street to add their support.
‘It looks like your group is outnumbered, Dyer,’ Louis continued, still speaking in a quietly menacing voice. ‘You're not welcome here, Sponsors. You're not going to hurt Alan, you're not going to find Theo. Applethwaite protects its own, and by God that's what we intend to do.’
Chapter Twenty
Lord William was waiting in his inner sanctum as his most trusted Sponsors arrived the following morning. As each director walked through the door, he or she looked uneasily at His Lordship; one look at his grim face telling them that this wasn't going to be an easy meeting. They all knew, of course, about the disappearance of Lord Theodore; the newspapers could talk of nothing else. Most of the morning papers were displaying the nicest photograph of the St Benedict family outside the Applethwaite Guesthouse on their front pages. Theodore stood at his father's side; both were smiling happily for the camera, and the family resemblance was there for the whole country to see. All members of Lord William's inner circle had been wise enough to leave their copies of the morning papers in their cars or homes. Looking around, the Sponsors couldn't help but notice that any photos of Theodore previously on display in Lord William's office had vanished since their last meeting. Knowing that their son was still fraternising with the Applethwaite Unsponsored, David and Julia Foster were feeling particularly apprehensive as they entered the room.
Raising bloodshot eyes from his computer screen as his Sponsors filed through the door, Lord William slammed the morning papers onto his desk one by one.
‘No need to be shy, people,’ he snarled as everyone was seated. ‘I know you'll all have seen what my apology of a son has done…’ Pausing to draw a deep breath, Lord William continued.
‘I haven't called you here today to discuss Theodore. He is nothing to me now. NOTHING! There are far more pressing issues, some of which have come to my attention since I emailed you all yesterday morning.
‘I'll begin with the subject of Lysander Trevelyan, who continues to be conspicuous by his absence. As you all know, I attended a wedding in the troublesome little village of Applethwaite over the weekend. My brother-in-law's wedding. I'm not interested in discussing the ceremony, though. I'm interested in the fact Applethwaite seems to have become a hotbed of Unsponsored activity, and that Trevelyan seems to have become heavily involved in this activity.’
Sighing, Lord William drummed his fingers on his desk.
‘I've had a look at recent records of the Leisure and Fitness group since I've been home, and they do not make happy reading. It would seem Trevelyan is relaxing his control, and many of those benefitting from the myriad rewards of Sponsorship are far from conforming to the codes of conduct we expect. I won't bore you with the details; suffice to say Trevelyan seems to have lost sight of the Scheme's aims.’
Once again Lord William sighed, while Mortimer O'Reilly looked as though he would be anything but bored by details of Lysander Trevelyan's failure to do his job. Lord William collected himself, crossed to the doorway, and called Brian Mooreland into the room.
‘Brian,’ said Lord William sadly, ‘please show Ms Maloney in.’
The Sponsors looked curiously at the newcomer as she entered; a very pretty woman of about forty with an impressive mane of dark, curly hair.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Lord William, ‘I present to you Faye Maloney, the new director of the Leisure and Fitness Sponsorship group.’
Inevitably, it was Mortimer O'Reilly who spoke first. Almost unable to contain his excitement, he asked the question on everyone's lips.
‘Your Lordship, what about Trevelyan?’
‘We'll come to that, Mortimer. I will be speaking with Trevelyan and his Unsponsored friends in that wretched place shortly, but I want to get through business first. I want you all to be acquainted with the decisions I've made before we make contact with the Unsponsored hole.’ Addressing David and Julia Foster, Lord William carried on.
‘From Trevelyan the elder to Trevelyan the younger. Your Adam seems to have struck up quite a friendship with Lysander's son; says you gave him the go-ahead to watch… what's his name…training. Well, there's no need. The Trevelyan boy will not be competing at the Games this summer.’
Looking round the room, Lord William wasn't surprised to see Mortimer's eyes shining with delight. The Fosters, on the other hand, looked horrified.
‘David,’ said Lord William, ‘would you like to speak?’
‘Yes, Your Lordship,’ replied David Foster. ‘Louis Trevelyan is, quite simply, the best British gymnast since…well since Gideon Wallis. Gideon himself was the best British gymnast the world has ever seen. If you want the British gymnastic team to win gold medals at the Games…’
‘I want the SPONSORED gymnastic team to win golds at the Games, David,’ replied Lord William, ‘not some Unsponsored SCUM!’
David wisely shut up, despite knowing that no Sponsored gymnast came close to Louis Trevelyan's talent. He had a bad feeling about this meeting, especially where Applethwaite was concerned, and was only too well aware that his son was in a very vulnerable position.
‘I've let you down, my friends,’ said Lord William unexpectedly. ‘I've been so caught up in the sense of occasion, with the Games being held here in the heart of Sponsor-endorsed UK, that for a while I lost sight of the bigger picture.’
Allowing for a pregnant pause, His Lordship continued.
‘There will be only Sponsored sportsmen and women competing for the British team at the Games. David, Julia; I can see you're disappointed, but this is my decision and it is final. I now require you to contact your son; he can serve a useful purpose by providing a means of communication between us and that bloody village. Get on to him immediately, tell him to use his laptop to provide us with a visual link and to stand by until I'm ready. Tell him also that I require to speak with Trevelyan father and son.
‘However, there is one more thing I wish to discuss with you all before we speak to Trevelyan and his Unsponsored friends. I had a rather upsetting phone call from my head of security, Lee Fellows, last night. It would seem that the Unsponsored rabble in Applethwaite have driven my security men out of the village. At present, my men are in a Sponsored hotel in Penrith, but they should be in Applethwaite in case the troublesome piece of SHIT once known as my son shows up. The Unsponsored have closed ranks and will not let them return.
‘Once again, I have let you down, my loyal friends. I of all people should only have the interests of the Scheme in mind; instead, I've been allowing myself to get caught up in sentimentality. Theodore, the Games, this wedding last weekend…all manner of trivia has been distracting me. But no more! I promise you that from now on my only priority will be the Scheme; I shall expect the same level of commitment from all of you, and anyone delivering less than 100 per cent will go the same way as Trevelyan…
‘Julia; have you made contact with Adam? Is the link set up? Good. We may proceed.’
As the picture from Applethwaite came into focus on Lor
d William's big screen, he immediately recognised the bar of The White Lion Inn.
‘Ah, the Unsponsored public house,’ he said for the benefit of his inner circle, ‘with all the good-for-nothing Unsponsored drinking their lives away. Good morning, Adam, have you carried out my orders?’
‘Lysander is behind the bar, Louis is on his way,’ replied Adam shortly, his failure to say Your Lordship not going unnoticed by Lord William.
‘I can see you're fast sinking into the deplorable way of life of the Unsponsored, Adam,’ he snapped. ‘Hanging around in pubs getting drunk all day, not showing due respect to your superiors…’
‘I show due respect to those who are due respect,’ said Adam. ‘And we're not drinking, we're cleaning.’
‘Is that really a fitting pastime for the son of two highranking Sponsors?’
‘Why not? I like to keep myself occupied doing something worthwhile; and your daughter's vomit, for example, wasn't going to mop itself up.’
‘Adam, remember to whom you're talking!’ warned David Foster, gravely concerned for his son.
‘Sorry, Dad…’ began Adam, but Lord William interrupted.
‘This interview isn't about your son, David. Adam, put Lysander Trevelyan on!’
As Adam carried his laptop across the pub, Lysander came into view, casually dressed and wiping the bar with a wet cloth.
‘Trevelyan!’ roared Lord William. ‘What the hell are you doing working behind an Unsponsored bar?’
‘Helping out, WSB,’ said Lysander, smiling pleasantly and nodding a greeting via the camera to the assembled company in Lord William's office.
‘So this is what you've been doing, is it, while Leisure and Fitness has been going to the dogs?’
‘Hardly going to the dogs, WSB,’ replied Lysander, wringing out his cloth under a running tap then setting to work on another part of the bar. ‘Last time I checked, and I do check regularly, Leisure and Fitness Sponsorship was more popular than it has ever been before.’