The Rapunzel Dilemma

by Jennifer Kloester

  ‘What did your mother think?’ asked Lily, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

  ‘Mam was desperate for us to move. She could see Dad getting drawn into the gang; she begged him to stay away from Stoker and she banned me from being friends with Snake.’

  ‘Snake?’ repeated Lily.

  ‘Stoker’s son,’ said Ronan. ‘Trouble is, I’ve always been stubborn – just like my dad.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Stoker and his gang started hanging out with the Vipers and straight away Stoker started changing things. He insisted we become a “proper” motorcycle club with jackets and an insignia and patches, even tattoos.’

  ‘The red-and-green snake tattoo! It’s a viper, isn’t it?’ exclaimed Lily. ‘Snake had one on his neck and . . . and that man with the tattoo on his chest – the one on the ceiling at the Third Dimension with those incredible blue eyes – that was your dad, wasn’t it?’ she gazed at Ronan, her face flushed and her eyes bright.

  ‘Yeah, it was Robbie,’ agreed Ronan. ‘But how did you know about Snake? I mean –’

  ‘I met him the day of my audition. Out in the laneway. Remember? You asked me not to tell him I’d seen you.’ She frowned at the memory. ‘Exactly why did you ask me to do that? And why is Snake looking for you? Bolt said –’

  ‘Snake and I used to do stuff together. We . . . we have things in common,’ replied Ronan. ‘Snake thinks we should be mates – he thinks I owe him because . . . because of stuff our dads did together.’

  ‘And what do you think?’ asked Lily.

  ‘I owe Snake nothing. Trouble is, he doesn’t see it that way.’

  ‘So what does he want?’

  Ronan began drawing thick black lines on a second napkin. ‘I suppose he wants me to join him in whatever stupid criminal activity he’s involved in these days, and if I won’t, then –’ He pushed the pen down onto the napkin and watched the ink spread across the paper.

  ‘Then?’ asked Lily.

  ‘Then he’ll do his best to find me and pay me out.’

  ‘You mean, like revenge?’ Lily stared at him wide-eyed.

  Ronan nodded. ‘That’s why I was running that day. Snake saw me on the street and followed me – he’d lost track of me after I left my last school. Only a few people knew I was going to Pendragon, and Mam and Bolt and Credo would never tell Snake where I was. As long as I’m there, I don’t have to worry about him.’ Ronan spun the pen between his fingers. ‘That’s why Bolt and Credo don’t want me hanging around the nightclub, they’re afraid I’ll get caught up with Snake and his gang. They want to see me educated, using my talent and making something of my life.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ said Lily, taking the pen from him and picking up his discarded napkin. She turned it over and began to draw rows of stars. ‘So what happened after Stoker tried to change the Vipers into a real gang?’

  ‘About half the members agreed, but the rest, including Credo and Bolt, told Stoker to sod off.’

  ‘What did your dad do?’

  ‘At first he sided with Credo and Bolt. He promised Mam that we’d move and that he’d have nothing more to do with Stoker. Only –’ Ronan stopped.

  ‘Only?’

  He scratched absently at a water stain on the table. At last he said in a voice so low that Lily had to strain to hear him, ‘Only, one night down at the boxing ring Stoker convinced my dad to be the getaway driver in an armed robbery. It was meant to be a one-off thing – the one big job that would set them up for life.’

  ‘And did it?’ whispered Lily, dreading the answer.

  Ronan shook his head. ‘No. It all went wrong. A teller hit the alarm at the bank. Stoker was killed in the shootout with the police and my dad was caught in the getaway car.’ His eyebrows snapped together and he said in a tight voice, ‘He was sentenced to fifteen years in prison.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘That’s why Snake thinks we should be mates,’ said Ronan at last. ‘Because his dad died committing a crime with my dad. In Snake’s mind that makes us blood brothers. I don’t agree and so he thinks I’m a traitor to his dad’s memory.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Lily, not knowing what to say.

  As if sensing her discomfort, Ronan leaned back in his chair. ‘I know I should have told you about my dad sooner, but it isn’t a story I’m proud of, so I don’t tell too many people.’ He took the napkin from her hand, and it struck Lily that the thick black lines he’d drawn across it looked like prison bars.

  ‘The fact is, Lily D,’ said Ronan, tearing her stars into pieces. ‘The fact is, we’re worlds apart, you and I, and I shouldn’t have let you think I was someone or something I’m not.’

  ‘You didn’t!’ said Lily, grabbing the napkin from him. ‘I know who you are. You’re kind and clever and –’

  ‘– and if your dad knew you were out with me, he’d be on the next plane home to rescue you.’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t!’ said Lily. ‘I don’t need rescuing – not from you, anyway.’ She took his hands. ‘Okay, so your dad’s in prison, but –’ She met his unhappy gaze. ‘But you’re not your dad, Ronan, and I don’t see what his bad choices have to do with us.’

  ‘Us?’ he queried.

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks, but her eyes never wavered. ‘Yes. I . . . I like you, Ronan. I like being around you and I want . . .’

  ‘This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, you know,’ he said brusquely.

  ‘I know that!’ retorted Lily. She lifted her chin and said stubbornly, ‘But if you think that telling me your sad life story means you can wangle your way out of taking me to Dover tomorrow or to your gallery opening next Saturday night, you’d better think again, Ronan Carver.’

  CHAPTER 31

  It was just after nine the next morning when Lily emerged from the Four Bells Hotel to find Ronan sitting astride his motorbike waiting for her.

  When they’d left the diner he’d insisted she spend what remained of the night at a hotel. It was small but clean, with a kindly landlady who didn’t seem to mind being woken at three a.m. once Ronan insisted on paying the bill in advance. When Lily protested, he’d bluntly reminded her that going back to the Academy at three in the morning was probably not a great idea and that it was his fault she was in Shoreditch.

  ‘Besides, you’re meant to be out with Angel and Nick for the whole weekend. Nobody at the Academy expects you back until Sunday night, so you might as well stay here, get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’

  He’d then kissed her good night, told her to lock her door and left Lily alone with her thoughts. She’d lain in the slightly lumpy bed reliving everything she’d done since climbing out the South Tower window, and was still thinking of the anguished man in the hologram when she fell asleep.

  She’d woken just before nine and scrambled into her clothes. When she got downstairs, Ronan took one look at her, said, ‘You need to change into these,’ and held out a set of black motorcycle leathers.

  Lily looked down at her jeans and denim jacket. ‘Won’t these do?’

  Ronan shook his head. ‘’Fraid not,’ he replied. ‘You need more than a bit of denim between the road and your skin if you come off a bike. I’ve never had an accident, but I’m not taking any risks with you.’

  Lily took the leathers and gave Ronan her duffel bag. ‘I’ll only be a minute,’ she said, turning to go back inside.

  ‘You’ll need to take your clothes off.’

  ‘What!’ squeaked Lily, ‘I’m not –’

  ‘You only wear underwear – or nothing – under leathers,’ explained Ronan calmly. ‘Otherwise you’ll be hot and uncomfortable. I’ve got my jeans and T-shirt in here.’ He tapped a luggage compartment behind the pillion seat. ‘You can put yours in here, too, and change when we get to Dover.’

  The leathers felt stiff and unfamiliar but they certainly made her look the part, decided Lily, as she glanced at herself in the ladies’ room mirror before h
eading back outside. Ronan was still sitting astride the bike waiting for her and, not for the first time that morning, she wondered whether she’d been mad to agree to go on his motorcycle.

  He patted the pillion seat and said, ‘Sit here.’

  ‘Um, okay,’ she replied, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.

  ‘Relax,’ said Ronan as she stepped towards him.

  ‘I am relaxed.’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘Are you?’

  Lily felt herself squirm inwardly as she met his green-and-gold gaze. ‘Maybe not as relaxed as I could be,’ she admitted.

  His smile widened. ‘Truth becomes you,’ he said. ‘Here, put this on.’ He lifted a black full-visored motorcycle helmet from the handlebar and gave it to her. Lily pulled it on over her head, slid her leg across the seat behind Ronan and put her feet on the foot pegs.

  ‘Comfy?’ asked Ronan, pulling on his own helmet.

  ‘Very,’ said Lily, gripping the seat tightly.

  ‘Put your arms around my waist and whenever I lean, just lean with me,’ he instructed.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t fight the bike.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘You’ll be fine.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Brilliant. Let’s go have some fun!’

  And before she could answer he hit the kick-starter and the Harley roared into life.

  It took a few minutes for Lily’s heart to stop pounding, but once they’d driven a couple of miles she felt herself relax a little and began to enjoy the unexpected feeling of freedom.

  It felt wonderful to leave the city behind them and, as they drove south, the concrete and steel of London’s outskirts gradually gave way to trees and fields and hedgerows in all their autumn colours.

  It was a perfect day, with a high blue canopy of sky. As the sun poured down on them, Lily thought she’d never seen anything quite so beautiful as the English countryside laid out like Phoebe’s patchwork quilt in myriad shades of green, russet, and gold.

  Ronan seemed completely at home on the gleaming motor­cycle, and she found it easier and easier to lean with him whenever they rounded a bend. Sometimes the bike tilted so far that Lily felt sure her knee would touch the road. It made her heart pound and her blood sing in her ears but she wasn’t frightened – not really. She just held Ronan a little tighter and leaned against his leather jacket. It felt good to be able to wrap her arms around him and feel the strength of his body as he drove.

  After a while they left the main highway and followed a smaller country road into a village, where they stopped for a cool drink before getting back on the bike.

  They kept up a steady pace between towns, though Ronan had to slow down in the villages and along the country lanes. Some of the lanes were so narrow that when they met a car, Ronan had to pull hard against the bank to let it pass. The lanes twisted and turned, and at times the banks were so high on either side that the hedgerows were almost at shoulder height. Sometimes the trees met overhead and Lily loved the sensation of riding through a leafy tunnel that was all red and gold and russet-brown.

  It was just after eleven when Ronan turned into a churchyard and killed the engine. He pulled off his helmet and helped Lily with hers.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked, combing her fingers through her hair.

  ‘St Saviour’s Church,’ replied Ronan, pushing the bike onto its stand. ‘I thought you could use a break.’

  ‘You were right,’ said Lily gratefully.

  Ronan opened the luggage compartment and pulled out a flask and a small rug. ‘Let’s go round the back,’ he said. They joined hands and followed the gravel path beside the church until they reached a gate. He pushed it open and waited for Lily to go through before closing it behind him.

  ‘Oh, how lovely!’ she cried, gazing at the scene before them.

  They were in a churchyard lush with green grass. White flowers nodded in the sunshine between lichen-covered tombstones, and in one corner a great tree lifted its branches to the sky.

  Lily stared for a moment and then, in a flash of recognition, cried, ‘But I know this place! It’s the one you painted in the alley – the picture on the brick wall.’

  ‘I wanted you to see it,’ said Ronan crossing to the tree. He spread the blanket, sat down and offered her the flask.

  ‘It’s elderflower cordial,’ he said. ‘Very English. I think you’ll like it.’

  Lily took a sip. ‘It’s nice. Sweet and sort of summery.’ She sat down beside Ronan and leaned against the tree. ‘It’s so beautiful here.’

  Ronan stared up into the golden-brown leaves. ‘The first time I saw this place was on a day like this. I’d just turned six, and my dad brought me and Mam here to see the wood carvings in the church.’ He pressed his hand to the tree trunk. ‘Dad gave me my first carving lesson under this tree. It’s a linden tree and it’d dropped a branch. He said it was the best kind of wood for carving.’ He smiled sadly. ‘He was an expert carver, my dad. Just like his dad and his before him.’ He lay down on the rug and closed his eyes.

  ‘Is that what inspired you to be an artist?’ asked Lily quietly. ‘Your dad teaching you to carve?’

  Ronan nodded. ‘When I was little I’d see stuff in my head and I’d want to see it in my hand. I was always drawing and making things out of whatever I could find around the house. When my dad taught me how to carve it was like a door opened in my mind. Suddenly I could take the things in my head and make them real.’

  ‘It must have been wonderful.’

  ‘It was – until Dad went to prison. After that, I kind of lost my way. I gave up everything to do with art and started sneaking out at night to meet Snake instead. We’d go ride the trains and tag stuff and do whatever stupid teenage boys do when they’re mad at the world.’

  ‘So what changed?’

  ‘Mam knew I was in trouble and she thought that my art might be the one thing that could help me.’ He took a swig of elderflower. ‘I had this teacher at school, Mr Jensen, who’d take me over to the Community College, where there was an art studio. He’d get me to try out different things and lend me books about sculpture and painting and modern art. Anyway, Mam went to see him and between them they organised for me to go in for a scholarship to one of the posh London boarding schools.’

  ‘And you got it?’

  He grimaced. ‘I did.’

  ‘But – but wasn’t that a good thing?’ asked Lily, puzzled.

  ‘Sure – for a while. Going to Chancellor got me away from Snake and opened my eyes to a whole world of possibilities,’ replied Ronan. ‘The trouble was, it also showed me just how different that world was from my world.’ He picked up a fallen leaf and spun it between his fingers. ‘It didn’t take long for the other students to make sure I understood that, while I might be smart enough to pass exams, I wasn’t one of them. My family wasn’t rich or well-connected and I’d grown up in council flats.’

  ‘But – but didn’t you tell them to – to –’ Lily faltered, suddenly and horribly aware of how her own family must look to him.

  ‘To what?’ demanded Ronan.

  ‘To sod off!’ she declared, throwing all care to the wind. ‘And – and surely they weren’t all like that! I mean, the entire school can’t have been a bunch of pretentious snobs.’

  ‘It doesn’t take an entire school to ostracise you in order for you to feel shunned and ignored and alone,’ said Ronan. ‘I’d have thought you’d have learned that these past few weeks,’ he added softly.

  Lily thought of her first day at the Academy and how she’d stood by herself in the corner of the quad wishing she could be part of the group. Ronan was right. It had only taken two or three people to actively exclude her in order for her to feel rejected by the whole school. And most of those who’d ignored her probably hadn’t even done it deliberately – they just hadn’t gone out of their way to be friendly.

  Except for Max. Max had been a friend from the first day.<
br />
  ‘So what did you do?’ she asked eventually.

  ‘For a while I tried to show them I was as good as them. But eventually I realised two things – one, that I was wasting my time trying to impress a bunch of people I didn’t even like. And two, I didn’t care what they thought. After that, I worked for myself – I studied, I listened, I read, I sucked up all the information I could and all the time I kept on carving and painting and drawing, until . . .’ He stopped.

  ‘Until?’ she prompted.

  ‘Until I left.’

  ‘And came to Pendragon,’ said Lily, smiling.

  Ronan smiled back at her. ‘Yes, I came to Pendragon.’

  ‘And you met me.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And I don’t care where you came from or who your parents are or how much money you’ve got, because I know the real you. I know the real Ronan Carver.’

  ‘Do you?’ he said, his eyebrows slanting together suddenly.

  ‘I do. He’s the guy who rescued me.’ She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She put her lips on his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and grateful.

  As she pulled away, Lily felt a stab of regret that he hadn’t responded. She’d wanted to ignite the same passion she’d felt when he’d kissed her in the tower; she wanted to feel his arms around her and open her mouth to his.

  Lily had kissed boys before, at parties and school socials, but she’d never craved their kisses the way she craved Ronan’s. Disappointed, she pulled away and stared at the leaf in his hand. ‘I suppose we ought to get go–’

  Ronan’s mouth came down on hers in one quick, urgent move. She felt his hands on her shoulders pulling her close as his mouth opened and his tongue sought hers. Lily parted her lips and let him explore her mouth. He tasted faintly of elderflower and smelled of leather and sweat, which only seemed to make his kiss more exciting.

  She pressed herself against him, letting her hands slide under his jacket and across his back. He shifted sideways, and suddenly she was lying on the rug, his body across hers.