by Alison Jack
‘Convince them that we didn't realise that Lorimer and his family were holed up with the Unsponsored, and that we're very distressed at the misunderstanding. You're clearly distressed already, which should make that claim all the more plausible. Now go! I shall expect a report back from you before the day's out.’
A few minutes later, Jess Donatelli was astonished to glance out of the window and see a visibly shaking Mortimer O'Reilly coming up the path towards the front door of The White Lion. Asking the band to stop playing for a few moments, she crossed to the door as a timorous knock sounded.
‘Mr O'Reilly,’ called Jess through the door. ‘What do you want?’
‘I h…h…have a m…m…message,’ stammered Mortimer, ‘c…concerning Philip…’
‘Are you alone?’ asked Jess.
‘C…c…completely alone.’
Turning to the assembled company, Jess shrugged helplessly. It was Lysander who suggested they let Mortimer in.
‘He's a coward; he won't try anything silly. I for one would like to hear what he's got to say…’
‘And so would I,’ interrupted Philip, ‘being as it concerns me.’
Nodding, Jess unbolted the door and let Mortimer into the bar, while Izzy slipped away to conceal herself in the backroom. Theo and Max went to fetch Louis from the cellar and help him bring Gideon back up to the ground floor. Whatever Mortimer had to say, he would be saying it to all of Dory's Avengers.
‘Morti!’ said Lysander, patting Mortimer's chubby face as Jess bolted the door behind the trembling money man. ‘I've missed you; you big, fat charlatan…’
‘Dad, don't bully him!’ said Louis, helping himself to a glass of water.
‘What, not even a tiny bit?’
‘NO, Dad! Seems you still have a bit of the Sponsor left in your soul even after all this time.’ Suitably admonished, Lysander went back behind the bar and showed off his prowess with a cocktail-shaker as Louis walked over to Mortimer.
‘Don't be scared, Mr O'Reilly,’ he said kindly. ‘We won't hurt you.’ Mortimer continued to tremble, and looked in panic at the bolted door blocking his path to freedom.
‘Really, we won't hurt you. You're free to go as soon as you've passed on your message. The locked door's our own insurance policy against them.’ Louis gestured out of the window to where Dyer was smirking in the street, a gang of thugs behind him, waiting for Mortimer to conclude his interview with the Unsponsored.
‘Hello, Mortimer, how are you?’ asked Theo, approaching with a cocktail which he handed to the money man. ‘Drink this – it'll steady your nerves a bit.’
Unconvinced, Mortimer said, ‘Trevelyan mixed it, didn't he…?’
‘Yes,’ called Lysander from the bar. ‘It's a heady mix of arsenic and cyanide. Sup it down, Morti old bean…’
‘DAD!’ yelled Louis, while Gideon and one or two others in the bar tried to stifle laughs. Turning back to Mortimer, Louis added, ‘Theo's right, Mr O'Reilly. It'll steady your nerves, and I promise you it's perfectly safe.’
Feeling rather backed into a corner, Mortimer took the cocktail in trembling hands and sipped it. It turned out to be delicious, and did indeed succeed in calming his nerves.
You're…’ began Mortimer, looking at Louis, who interrupted with a grin.
‘I'm Louis Trevelyan. Son of Lysander, friend of Theo and subject of predictions…’
‘I'm sorry,’ said Mortimer, looking ashamed. ‘You're not the subject of any prediction; I've never had the gift of sight…’
‘No shit, Sherlock!’ said Lysander from the bar, starting to laugh.
‘DAD! Will you stop bullying him! It's not how the Unsponsored behave. I'm sorry, Mr O'Reilly,’ Louis continued. ‘My Dad's a bit full of shit sometimes. Do you want another drink?’
To Louis's surprise, Mortimer said that he'd love one.
‘Come on, Dad; make yourself useful and mix another drink for Mr O'Reilly, please. Now then,’ said Louis, turning to Mortimer as Lysander delivered the money man's drink with a smile and no wisecrack, ‘I'm sure Philip's dying to know what this is all about, and I think I can speak for everyone when I say the rest of us are curious too.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Mortimer, draining his second glass of Lysander's cocktail and ceasing to tremble. ‘Mr Lorimer; His Lordship wishes to extend his sincere apologies to you. We didn't realise you were here with the Unsponsored until a…Jon Morison?’
‘Yes, Jon,’ confirmed Philip, ‘my colleague and friend.’
‘Jon Morison made us aware that you were missing, and His Lordship put two and two together. Of course, you and your family are free to return to London any time you wish.’
‘Odd that my mobile phone was cut off, being as His Lordshit didn't know I was here,’ said Philip, noting Mortimer wince at the offensive name the Unsponsored used for his boss. ‘However, I will play the game and pretend it was all just a big misunderstanding. I realise that you are simply the messenger here, Mr O'Reilly, for which I thank you.’
‘His Lordship…’ began Mortimer, only to be interrupted by Chloe.
‘In this bar,’ she said, ‘the tyrant in charge of the Sponsorshit Scheme shall only be referred to as His Lordshit…’
‘Not by me, young lady,’ said Mortimer. ‘Lord William is my boss, and that's how I'd like it to stay. I'm in enough trouble as it is…’
Mortimer shut up abruptly, but it was too late. Lysander immediately pounced on his loose words.
‘I wondered why you were exiled up here, Morti old chum. Been a naughty boy, have you?’ If Mortimer hoped that Louis would chastise his father again, he was to be disappointed. Louis was waiting for Mortimer's reply as expectantly as everyone else.
‘A few of us had a drink together, discussed one or two things. No, I'm not going into details. Let's just say, we were maybe a little indiscreet, and Mooreland heard every word…’
‘What did you say that was so bad?’
‘Actually,’ said Mortimer, meeting Theo's eyes, ‘a lot was to do with you, Lord Theodore…’
‘AARGH! Please, Mortimer; just call me Theo!’
‘It was to do with how His Lordshit…er, Lordship…used to treat you.’ Ignoring the chuckles of the Unsponsored at his slip of the tongue, Mortimer ploughed on. ‘We wanted Faye to know what His Lordship was capable of, how he'd stop at nothing to protect the Scheme, not even…’
‘Beating seven barrels of shit out of his own son,’ said Matilda, joining the group and ignoring her father grumbling at her choice of phrase. ‘So Faye was with you? Did she approve of His Lordshit's methods?’
‘No,’ replied Mortimer, ‘none of us did. That's why we're in trouble. Theodore…’
‘Yes?’ prompted Theo when Mortimer hesitated.
‘What you suffered was awful. Just awful. You deserved so much better, and I'm glad you've escaped from…well…all that…’
‘Thank you, Mortimer,’ said Theo, smiling at the money man who was rapidly returning to his former state of terror.
‘I must go now,’ said Mortimer, pulling himself together with an effort. ‘His Lordship will be expecting a report. Mr Lorimer; if you wouldn't mind leaving as soon as possible…’
‘I'm reluctant to take orders from your tyrannical boss, Mr O'Reilly, but I shall do as he wishes. Only because it coincides with my own wishes, though.’
‘Thank you,’ said Mortimer, crossing over to the stage where Alan had been playing Theo's Les Paul quietly all the time the conversation had been going on.
‘You're an excellent guitarist,’ said the money man. ‘I guess you must be Alan Santiago.’
Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Alan replied, ‘Yes I am, but I wasn't aware I was famous.’
‘Faye talks about you a lot. I don't think she realises she's doing it half the time, especially when His Lordship's around. It seems a little tactless to talk about one man while sharing the bed of another…’
‘WHAT?’
‘Faye, who is your mother – am I corre
ct?’ Mortimer said, turning to the shocked Matilda. When she nodded, he continued. ‘Your mother and His Lordship are sleeping together, but it doesn't take a genius to work out from the way she talks she'd rather be sleeping with your father.’ Turning his attention back to Alan, Mortimer added, ‘I imagine the feeling wouldn't be mutual, though. I gather you prefer the company of men.’
Laughing, Alan replied, ‘Nicely put, Mr O'Reilly.’
‘Do you have a message for Faye?’
Alan shook his head, while playing a guitar riff that the music loving Mortimer recognised as being from a song called Get Over It.
‘What about you, young lady?’
‘Tell her she's an old slag, if you want,’ said Faye's daughter without hesitation. Seeing the horror on Mortimer's face, she added, ‘Don't worry, Mr O'Reilly; you don't have to tell her that…’
‘You can tell His Lordshit something from me, Mortimer, if you'd be so kind,’ said Theo unexpectedly. ‘Tell him not to forget the carrot. He'll know what I mean.’ Everyone in the bar looked baffled, apart from Theo's sister who started to giggle uncontrollably. Putting his arms round Matilda, Theo continued.
‘I'm getting very intimately acquainted with this beautiful lady here. It just wouldn't seem right to end up sharing a half-brother or sister with her; so please, Mortimer, don't let His Lordshit forget the carrot.’
Chapter Twenty-two
True to his word, Philip and his family started gathering their things together in order to make the journey back to London as soon as Mortimer had left the inn. Stephen Dyer had been personally instructed by His Lordship to let the Lorimers leave Applethwaite, so he and his band of thugs looked on from the road as Philip backed his Range Rover up to the door of the inn and started loading it for the journey. While the Lorimers were packing, the rest of the Unsponsored had a quick debate as to whether anyone else should risk travelling back to London in Philip's car. Max was very eager to try escaping. Not only would he then be able to re-launch the Unsponsored network and newsletter, he would also be able to carry on his very pleasant friendship with Cathie.
‘How many more do you think Philip can carry?’ asked Brains, as Simone entered the bar with her luggage.
‘Well, we've got all our stuff to fit in too,’ she replied, hearing Brains's question. ‘Only another one in addition to Max, I would say.’
‘That is, if the thugs let you…’ began Dex, but Theo interrupted.
‘They've not got a brain cell between them, Dex,’ he said. ‘As long as all they see is Philip's car leaving with Philip, Simone and Cathie in it, they'll consider His Lordshit's orders to have been carried out…’
‘But it won't just have Philip, Simone and Cathie in, will it?’ wailed Max, his frustration returning with a vengeance as he thought Theo was suggesting he stay in Applethwaite.
‘Listen to me, Max!’ said Theo. ‘I said as long as that's all they see. Philip has lots of space to conceal you until you're well clear of Applethwaite.’ Max's spirits lifted immediately as he realised what Theo meant.
‘Sorry to be leaving the Avengers without a drummer, but the network must go on,’ he said. ‘Ads said he'd fill in for me on drums.’
‘I probably won't be very good…’ began Adam, but Abi stopped him.
‘You should have heard Max when Dory's Avengers first started,’ she said with a grin. ‘You can't be any worse, Ads.’
‘I'll let that one go, Abilene,’ said Max, irrepressibly high-spirited at the prospect of his forthcoming freedom, ‘being as I'm terrified of you. She broke my nose once, Adam!’
‘You deserved it back then,’ replied Abi, laughing. It was hard to believe that Abi had once loathed Max; over time, since his rejection of Sponsorship, they'd become firm friends. Hugging Max warmly, Abi added, ‘Take care, Moronis Maximus; I'm going to miss you.’
‘Who else is coming with us?’ asked Simone. ‘Only Phil's starting to load the car up now, so there's not much time.’
‘Sarah?’ asked Lysander. ‘Do you want to go to Rick?’ Sarah looked undecided for a moment, then came to a quick decision.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Much as I love my brother's family, my place is here with Louis and Jenny. Oh, and Gideon too…’
‘ME?’
‘Yes you, you silly man. I thought you'd guessed by now…’
‘We'll carry on with this conversation later, and we will carry it on,’ said Louis, his face shining with delight. ‘But it's more pressing we decide who else is joining Max and the Lorimers.’
‘Brains or Chloe maybe?’ said Dex. ‘We should share the bright sparks with London, I guess; although, on the other hand, that means separating Dad from daughter.’ Looking over at Matilda, Dex carried on.
‘I wouldn't want to be parted from Matty at the moment; I know I'm not her real dad, but all the same…’
‘All the same you love her, just like I love my daughter,’ Brains finished for Dex. ‘I'm sorry, but I'd go mad if I were in London; not knowing what was happening to Chlo, and having no way of finding out. Sorry, selfish I know…’
‘Urgency, everyone,’ said Philip, appearing in the bar. ‘The thugs will get suspicious if it takes us much longer to load up the car, then no one will be coming with us.’
Pausing only to wave around the bar and wish everyone luck, Max grabbed his small holdall and dived into the back of Philip's four by four, concealing himself entirely under some coats.
‘Looks like Moronis Maximus can't wait to get away,’ said Louis, laughing. ‘Anyone else? Theo?’
‘Piss off!’
‘That'll be a no, then.’ Looking around the bar, Louis said to the London Unsponsored, ‘It's between you guys, I think. Everyone else has too much of a reason to stay.’
‘I'll go, if that's OK,’ said Jim, the man Louis had first met when he was unceremoniously hauled into the London warehouse that Jim called home the previous summer. ‘I may not be the brightest, but I'm good with my hands. Could be useful, help the newly homeless get as comfortable as they can, that sort of thing…’
Briefly hugging his friends, Jim joined Max in the back of Philip's car.
‘Don't you fret, Sarah; I'll find Rick,’ called Jim before he disappeared. The Lorimers then did a tour of the bar, saying their goodbyes and exchanging good luck wishes, before shutting the doors on their stowaways and beginning their journey south. The thugs, as instructed by His Lordship, parted and let Philip Lorimer drive through with his wife and daughter. Had Dyer and his companions had a brain cell between them, they might have wondered why there was so much jubilation coming from The White Lion as Philip drove out of Applethwaite, but Theo had been spot on concerning their lack of intelligence.
‘Now then, Sarah,’ said Louis as the furore died down a bit. ‘You and Gideon, eh?’
‘First I've heard of it,’ said Gideon, making a pathetic attempt at his usual bad-tempered growl while grinning broadly. Blushing slightly, eyes gleaming, Sarah started to smile.
‘I thought you'd guessed, Gideon,’ she said. ‘Are you going to turn me down?’
Looking at Sarah with undisguised adoration, Gideon replied, ‘No way. No way am I going to turn you down…’ He didn't manage to say any more before Sarah engulfed him in her arms and kissed him. Absolutely delighted to discover that two people he loved dearly had been harbouring feelings for each other, Louis did a jubilant circuit of the bar. Hugging everyone in sight, and taking advantage of Gideon's distraction to perform a few untidy backflips, he then burst into song, hopelessly off-key.
‘I think this is definitely a champagne moment,’ yelled Georgie. Commenting to the tone-deaf Louis that he'd better stick to the gymnastics, Georgie handed some bottles of champagne over to Izzy before grabbing her bass guitar and leaping on to the stage. The band, with their newly appointed drummer, then launched into a spontaneous rendition of ‘Love Is in the Air’, while Gideon and Sarah remained in their private little bubble. Outside, the Sponsor thugs listened to the happy sounds coming
from The White Lion and wondered if the Unsponsored had finally gone mad.
As soon as Max arrived in London, he wasted no time in resurrecting the Unsponsored newsletter from the network's new headquarters: a large, disused power station next to the river. Within a couple of days, the Unsponsored around the country knew about the isolation of Applethwaite and Lord William's plans to render the Unsponsored homeless. Max also informed the Unsponsored of Mortimer O'Reilly’s visit to The White Lion, and the revelations the money man had made concerning His Lordship's latest bed partner.
By 18 June, many of Rick and Lisa Lonsdale's neighbours were rehomed with families as yet untouched by Lord William's initiative to displace them. Instead of heading to flats still housing Unsponsored friends, the Lonsdales themselves chose to settle in the old industrial buildings around the Unsponsored network headquarters. Far from being crushed by Lord William's cruelty, the Unsponsored seemed to almost thrive on it, and their camaraderie grew by the day.
Realising that so many of the Unsponsored, including Sarah's family, were becoming homeless on his birthday, Theo was undecided whether or not to celebrate in any way. The rest of Dory's Avengers were determined that Theo should enjoy his day, free from his imprisonment for the first time in ten years. Having been separated from Theo for so long, Isabelle and Louis were particularly adamant that Theo's birthday should be one big party, and Sarah reassured him that she'd be partying as hard as anyone else.
‘Rick, Lisa and the kids will be fine, Theo,’ she said to the young man, when he apologised yet again for the fact they were to lose their home. ‘They've got friends; they're survivors. His Lordshit won't crush the Unsponsored that easily, so stop your fretting and enjoy your birthday!’
Lord William did his best to dampen the party spirit in The White Lion. He had commissioned huge screens to be erected in the street and meadow around the inn, showing footage of Unsponsored homes being destroyed. There was no way anyone could look out from the inn without seeing the high-rises falling to the ground, the sound of controlled explosions and collapsing masonry booming from huge loudspeakers. In response, Dory's Avengers turned up their amps, rock music vying with dynamite to shatter the usual peace and tranquillity of the Lake District village. By the evening, Lord William had made good his threat to destroy the homes of the Walworth Unsponsored, making way for new constructions to benefit the loyal and respectable Sponsored. To his disappointment, though, he didn't feel as triumphant as he'd been anticipating. Long after Lord William's show had finished, the show designed to crush the spirit of the Unsponsored in The White Lion and ruin Theo's birthday, all he could hear was the sound of celebration from inside the pub. Frequently, Lord William recognised the unmistakeable laughter of his son. Theo, far from considering his birthday ruined, was clearly having a ball.