But while John’s material needs had been met in the three weeks since he’d left Locksley High, the penthouse often felt like a lavish prison. His mother was always on the go, with Sheriff duties and King Corporation business, while the castle’s location in the forest made it hard to visit pals back in Locksley.
John also felt an emotional hole, left by loss of contact with his gentle but eccentric father. He even missed Robin, though the brothers had battled through childhood, teasing each other and playing every prank, from harmless apple-pie beds to the time Robin put ink in John’s shampoo bottle.
It was early on a Monday morning and John was due to start his new school in under two hours. He’d towelled off after a shower and stood at the full-length mirror in his bedroom, fearing that his new schoolmates would instantly decide he was a freak.
He’d been swimming and working out every day, but being able to order any food he wanted from a phone beside his bed cancelled out most of the benefits. He thought his arms and shoulders looked better from lifting weights, but he hated his fat thighs and wobbly belly.
John thought about making himself look more buff by putting on one of the tight compression shirts he wore for rugby, but it would be too hot under his new school’s striped blazer and matching tie.
John crunched a half-rasher of bacon left on his breakfast tray and looked at the uniform laid out on the bed. All his clothes went into the five-star resort’s laundry, coming back immaculately ironed and wrapped in an environmentalist’s nightmare of disposable hangers, cellophane wrap and tissue paper. Even his gym socks went in a laundry press, before being tied with red ribbon and scented with a spritz of sandalwood.
His new school’s largest standard uniform wasn’t close to fitting, so one had been handstitched by a Nottingham tailor and Little John liked the way it looked, fitting like uniforms rarely do on the first day of school.
‘Not bad!’ John told himself, as he buttoned the blazer and dabbed gel to tame his hair.
New shoes scraped the back of his heel as he stepped out of his bedroom. He hoped to find his mum out on the balcony where she liked to take breakfast. But Sheriff Marjorie’s enormous bedroom had its double doors open, with a breeze billowing curtains as a maid in canary-yellow uniform stripped sheets off the bed.
‘Pia, have you seen my mum?’ John asked.
She shook her head. ‘Sheriff left already. You look so smart!’
‘Thanks,’ John said, but wished someone closer than a maid was around to offer support on his first day.
John was going to be a flexi-boarder, staying at school during the week but coming home most weekends. He grabbed his backpack and wheelie case and took a last glance back at damp footprints and rumpled sheets that would be cleaned up long before he returned.
It was a mark of how John’s life had changed that it no longer felt special stepping onto Sherwood Castle’s rooftop helipad and ducking as he strode beneath whipping blades of a silver chopper with black King Corporation logo on the tail.
As the pilot gave him a nod, John had his pick of seven quilted leather recliners. A ground marshal secured John’s luggage with a strap, and they were airborne seconds after the passenger door thudded shut.
The rising sun made Sherwood look spectacular. Deep green stretched away from the castle in every direction, broken only by the pollution haze rising off Route 24. John reached forward and grabbed a can of iced coffee from a little fridge, then worried as he imagined Robin as a tiny speck somewhere down in the forest.
Barnsdale School was a couple of kilometres from Sherwood’s northern border. Two and a half hours from Sherwood Castle by road, but thirty minutes in the chopper.
John worried he’d be making a scene arriving by helicopter, but as they approached over the school’s two-kilometre rowing lake and coiffured playing fields, he eyed four helipads, with a small chopper lifting off and two more spilling uniformed kids on the ground.
John wasn’t sure where to walk as he opened the door to step out, but a handsome man in a brown suit jogged over and shook his hand.
‘John Kovacevic?’ the man asked. ‘I’m Mr Zhang, your assigned mentor.’
John cringed at his mother’s surname. Sheriff Marjorie said it was better to drop Hood because of Ardagh and Robin’s notoriety. She’d made the decision and had her assistant fill out the school paperwork without bothering to consult her son.
As his wheelie case click-clacked on a paved path leading to a grand nineteenth-century school building, kids who knew where they were going ran past with backpacks.
‘It’s unusual for us to take a pupil with only half a term before summer break,’ Mr Zhang explained. ‘But it will give you a chance to make friends and settle before you start International Baccalaureate studies in September.’
John nodded. ‘That’s what my mum said, though maybe she just wants me out of the house!’
Mr Zhang halted to scold a little kid who bolted off the lawn and swerved in front of them. After another minute they’d walked up six steps and into the school’s main lobby.
Varnished wood, vaulted ceilings and spiral stairs leading up to a clock tower made a grander impression than Locksley High, though the aroma made John realise that rich and poor teens give off exactly the same stink.
‘There’s one other pupil joining our school today,’ Mr Zhang said, as he pointed towards a battered wooden door off to one side. ‘I’ll give you both a tour of our facilities, then take you to your dorm rooms to unpack. If you’d be kind enough to wait in reception, I just need to grab your timetables from the admin office.’
‘No problem, sir,’ John said, as he turned the brass doorknob and wheeled his case into a reception room, with an unlit marble fireplace and old leather sofas.
Little John’s jaw dropped as he saw the other new arrival staring out of a window at the school grounds.
‘I saw you walk up the steps,’ Clare Gisborne said, as she turned and glared. ‘Bit of a shocker, eh?’
24. MEANWHILE AT DESIGNER OUTLETS
‘Robin!’ Karma said, her voice stiff as she rocked him awake.
Robin woke with a start. He saw Karma’s belly, which now looked very pregnant. He also saw his bed covered with notepads and computer printouts and his swanky new gaming laptop, which was the most awesome thing he’d ever owned.
‘What time is it?’ Robin asked, cracking a yawn.
‘Eight thirty!’
He sat up sharply and was planning to say something like, Oh God, I slept through my alarm, when he realised there was an object stuck to his cheek. There were rats and mice inside the mall, so that was his first thought as he panicked and whacked it away.
But as Karma cracked up laughing, Robin felt sticky stuff on his cheek, sniffed chocolate on his fingertips and then saw the Snickers bar he’d batted away, and melted chocolate smeared over his pillow.
‘That’ll teach you to eat in bed,’ Karma said, laughing so hard she had to pull one of the chairs out from the little dining table and sit down. ‘I wish I’d videoed that!’
Robin saw the funny side as he scrambled out of bed. There was no tap in his den, so he poured water from a big drinking bottle onto a dirty T-shirt and used it to rub chocolate off his face.
‘I got a message on one of my hacking forums,’ Robin explained, as he wiped. ‘Tons of info about StayNet security breaches and back doors.’
Karma looked confused. ‘StayNet?’
Robin sounded excited as he explained. ‘Will’s source found out that Sherwood Castle uses a suite of hospitality applications called StayNet. The software handles every-thing, with modules for reservations, room service, staff rotas, even the casino.’
‘The Sheriff’s a dark horse,’ Karma said. ‘It would be huge if we could see some of what her people are up to.’
‘I got a pirated copy of StayNet running on my laptop, and posted on a hacking forum to ask if anyone had ever hacked a StayNet system,’ Robin explained. ‘I got a detailed reply as I
was getting in bed last night, and the info was gold. I started reading through all the stuff she sent, making notes. I must have dozed off, cos I’ve been getting up at five forty to go deal with the chickens.’
He stepped closer to Karma and showed her his cheek. ‘Did I get all the chocolate?’
Karma grabbed the damp T-shirt and wiped brown smears from Robin’s chin and earlobe. As he hurriedly pulled on tracksuit bottoms and boots, she stripped his pillowcase and bedsheet.
‘I can do that later,’ Robin said.
‘You really will have mice in your bed if you leave mashed up Snickers everywhere.’
‘Chicken Sheila is gonna have a right go at me,’ Robin complained, as he pocketed his phone. ‘She’s grumpy enough when I arrive on time.’
‘Sheila’s harmless,’ Karma said.
‘Could you text her? Say I’m sick or something.’
Karma held out a balled-up bedsheet covered with brown chocolate stains. ‘How about we take a photo of this and tell her you’ve got diarrhoea?’
Robin laughed, but Karma turned more serious. ‘You’re not getting off. You stayed up until stupid o’clock and slept through your alarm. Your fault, your consequences.’
‘Whatever,’ Robin sighed, as he headed out.
As he slid down the rubber handrail of the escalator, Robin realised one of his boot laces was undone, but instead of stopping to tie it, he hurdled Finn’s pushbike, shot into the Maid family den and grabbed two apples from a bowl for his breakfast as he wished Indio and Matt good morning.
Then he almost bumped into Marion. She wore a Nottingham Kangaroos cap and a set of overalls splattered in grey roof resin.
‘Sorry,’ Robin blurted.
But Marion still wasn’t talking to him, so she tutted and shook her head.
25. STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU
Little John imagined Clare Gisborne charging at him. He eyed the metal poker by the fireplace as a potential weapon, but it was first day at a new school and they were both on best behaviour.
Clare backed away from the window and sat on a sofa. John sat opposite, with a glass coffee table and a vase of half-dead flowers between them. He’d never seen Clare in a skirt before and her jiggling foot made her look as nervous as he felt.
‘That idiot Zhang’s taking his time,’ Clare said, breaking the awkward silence.
‘Yeah,’ John agreed, then after a pause, ‘I can’t believe they kicked you out of Locksley High.’
Clare tutted. ‘They didn’t. But the Monday after I got soaked, someone spat on my jacket. Day after that there was rude graffiti about me all over the toilets. The last straw was my locker getting broken into. They found my books in a flooded sink in the chemistry lab.’
‘Pretty nasty,’ John said, but at the same time thought, If anyone ever deserved that . . .
‘Like you care,’ Clare grunted. ‘It’s the Hood family stirring trouble that started all this!’
‘Sheriff Marjorie is my mum, Robin’s my brother, Ardagh’s my dad. I’m just a guy stuck in the middle of all the nonsense.’
‘That’s a problem we have in common,’ Clare said, as she eyed the fancy gold-leaf ceiling. ‘This place might be OK though. Locksley High is mostly held up by the mould and dirt, and most teachers are only there for the money.’
‘Did you see that rowing lake as you flew in?’ John asked. ‘Must have spent millions dredging that out.’
‘Came by car,’ Clare said peevishly. ‘We’re not poor, but we don’t live in castles and fly helicopters.’
John felt embarrassed. ‘I’m supposed to be here on some rugby scholarship,’ he said. ‘But I watched videos of Barnsdale playing. Those dudes are way above my standard.’
‘I’ll sign up for soccer,’ Clare said. ‘Maybe showjumping if my dad stumps up the extra money.’
‘Kids won’t be scared to tackle you here.’
Clare grunted and John felt like he’d overstepped.
‘Sorry,’ John said. ‘I just . . .’
Clare sat forward, looking thoughtful. ‘This is a fresh start, right? What if we leave our beefs back in Locksley? We’ll probably be in a few of the same classes, but it shouldn’t be hard to ignore each other.’
John could have pointed out that it was Clare and her flunkeys who’d strutted around Locksley High picking fights. But despite his sense of righteousness and the fact he trusted Clare like he’d trust a starving dog with a leg of roast lamb, John saw no downside in trying to live a peaceful existence.
‘Happy to ignore you,’ John agreed.
‘Shake,’ Clare said, gobbing generously in her palm before reaching across the table.
John hesitated. The spit was gross, and Clare’s judo and kick-boxing skills meant she could probably turn the handshake into some sort of armlock and stick his head through the glass table.
‘It’s a deal,’ John said, feeling spit squelch as they shook, and relief when Clare let go without doing him any damage.
26. ROOFTOP PRESSURE WASH
Chicken Sheila was all about chickens, from her frizzy black hair down to boots crusted in white bird manure. She grew up on a poultry farm, spent years raising award-winning birds in sheds near Locksley and when Guy Gisborne’s thugs made her sell her land for a pittance to make way for a rubbish tip, Sheila hatched new flocks at Designer Outlets.
‘Come on time or don’t come at all!’ she growled, when Robin approached the rooftop sheds. ‘Leaving me to pick all the eggs, with my bad back and all!’
This was about what Robin expected.
‘Is there something else I could do to make up the time?’ he suggested reasonably. ‘You mentioned some of the sheds need painting.’
‘I ain’t got paint yet!’ she spat. ‘I spoke to Scarlock already. Will says if you’re no use here, to send you over to Unai – he always needs an extra hand fixing the roof.’
It took Robin ages to find Unai. He was repairing the seal around a skylight, while Marion was in the background using a jet washer to blast moss out of gutters.
‘I asked Will for help, but never you!’ Unai growled, as he wagged a finger in Robin’s face. ‘You worked with me one time and shot more holes in my roof than you fixed!’
Robin groaned and looked up at the sky. ‘If everyone thinks I’m so incompetent, can I go back to bed?’
But Unai wasn’t having that. As he lit a cigarette, he pointed to Marion.
‘Fetch the water for her.’
Robin felt wary as he approached Marion. She’d not been up to his den or said anything more than, Pass the butter, or, Get out of my way, since he ran off with Flash.
Not talking to Marion was easy when he ate in the Maid family den, because it was always mayhem with Karma, Otto, Finn, Matt and usually a bunch of guests. But here it was just Marion, Robin and a huge grey roof.
‘Why are you here?’ Marion spat, lifting off plastic goggles and propping them in her hair.
‘Unai told me to fetch water,’ Robin explained, wary of the powerful sprayer in Marion’s hand.
‘Get on with it then,’ she said bluntly, pointing to an empty plastic water tank behind the one connected to the sprayer.
There was no running water on, or anywhere near, this part of the roof, so Robin had to lift the tank onto Unai’s trolley, wheel it several hundred metres across the roof to the shower block, fill it from a hose, then bring it back for Marion.
The sun had a kick, and with no shade Robin’s clothes were soaked in sweat after two round trips. At the start of his third, Unai gave Robin money and told him to buy snacks from a rooftop cafe.
When Robin got back, Unai took his change, coffee and baguette and stepped away from the flammable putty he’d been using to have another smoke. Marion stripped thick rubber gloves and caught her breath as she sat with her legs swinging off a ventilation shaft.
‘Jet washing goes quicker with you fetching the water,’ she admitted as she peeled foil from her cheese-and-tomato toastie.
&nbs
p; Robin sensed a friendlier tone and said the least controversial thing he could think of.
‘How many hours do you have to work today?’
‘Two like every other kid,’ Marion explained. ‘But Unai has heaps to do, so if I don’t have a study session, I stick around till the job’s done.’
‘Nice of you,’ Robin said, as he bit into a sausage roll.
‘Unai’s been teaching me roofing and carpentry skills,’ Marion said. ‘And Designer Outlets is a community. It ticks me off when people do the minimum, then buzz off and do their own thing.’
Robin wondered if that was a dig at him for running off with Flash. But he didn’t act offended because he didn’t want Marion going back to silent treatment.
‘I meant it when I told everyone I was sorry,’ Robin said, trying to sound pitiful.
Marion stood up like she was irritated. Robin thought he’d blown it, but she turned back.
‘I’m still angry about a lot of things, Robin. You made a big fancy plan behind my back. You didn’t listen when I told you not to get involved with Flash. And now Flash has run off and I’m worried sick because nobody knows where he is.’
Robin shrugged. ‘Flash is years older than me. Shouldn’t he be the responsible one?’
‘You’re brainy and always saying you hate being treated like a kid,’ Marion snorted. ‘So you can’t blame a goofy idiot like Flash for leading you astray.’
‘Fair,’ Robin sighed as he opened a can of Rage Cola.
‘Flash is probably having fun with some trashy forest woman,’ Marion said. ‘But you made my mums, brothers and a bunch of other people worry about you.’
Robin realised he’d get nowhere fighting Marion on details, so he switched to an emotional plea.
‘I miss having you as a friend,’ Robin said. ‘And I don’t like sleeping in the dark on my own.’
Marion smiled. ‘It’s adorable that you’re still scared of the dark!’
He tutted. ‘I hate it when you say I’m adorable.’
‘I know,’ Marion said. ‘That’s why I say it.’
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