After a pause, she added, ‘I’ve missed hanging out with you. And I miss the upstairs den whenever Matt wakes up with a screaming nightmare, or Karma farts, or Finn crawls in my bed at 2 a.m. with freezing-cold feet.’
‘Cut the yapping, lovebirds!’ Unai shouted as he tapped on his wristwatch. ‘Let’s get this job done before it gets even hotter out here.’
Robin wiped pastry grease down his tracksuit bottoms and stepped towards an empty water tank.
‘Give us a hand before you get the water,’ Marion said. ‘I changed the water jet before break and it’s leaking. I think I cross-threaded the nozzle, but I can’t see where when I’m at this end pulling the trigger.’
Robin looked at the sprayer lance as she turned the pressure down to minimum and drizzled some water.
‘I don’t think it’s leaking,’ Robin said.
‘Not the side,’ Marion said, tapping the sprayer. ‘The little ball nozzle at the tip.’
‘What little nozzle?’ Robin asked as he looked around the end of the lance. ‘I can’t see anything.’
Marion dialled up the pressure before pulling the trigger. Robin gasped and coughed as he stumbled backwards.
She punched air and howled with laughter. ‘I do not believe you fell for that!’
‘Hell!’ Robin hacked, spitting water and pushing wet hair out of his eyes, before laughing and shaking his head.
Marion cracked an evil smile as she snapped her goggles back down over her eyes. ‘And now we’re even.’
27. THEM SAME OLD QUESTIONS
After the shock of Clare, the rest of John’s first day at Barnsdale School was an anticlimax. Lunch was edible. It was exam season, so he spent the afternoon in revision sessions he didn’t need and for after-school activity he picked debate club.
The subject was: Is the current government doing enough to fight poverty?
John was assigned to a group researching for a debate the following week. His three female teammates all seemed super-posh, and hearing them talk about poverty felt like sumo wrestlers discussing the finer points of a ballet.
John was naturally shy, and he kept quiet until a girl called Leia got bored enough to back up her wheelchair and ask where he was from.
He told her his name was Kovacevic, but Leia saw right through it and squealed, ‘OMG you’re Robin Hood’s brother!’
In an instant, John went from lonely-new-kid to superstar and all the girls were asking questions.
‘Are you in touch with Robin?’
‘Can you shoot a bow as well as your brother?’
‘Where’s Robin now?’
‘How long can Robin hide from Gisborne?’
‘Is it true Sheriff Marjorie has a secret prison in the Sherwood Castle basement?’
‘Was your dad really framed by the cops?’
‘Have you visited your dad on Pelican Island?’
‘What will Robin do next?’
John’s appeal diminished when they realised his answers were all no or I don’t know, but he still had to fake grin his way through a bunch of selfies.
It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen on your first day of school, but he still felt grumpy and awkward as he walked back to his little dorm room.
Teens chased up and down the hallways outside and there was a near-riot in the kitchen area, where pupils could make toast and hot drinks. John stayed in his room, putting books on the shelf over his desk and hanging clothes in the wardrobe.
‘You’re famous,’ Clare Gisborne said, sounding friendly rather than menacing.
John spun and saw her standing in his doorway. Her shorts and Locksley Kangaroos shirt had grass stains and her socks were pushed down, exposing battered shin pads. John also noted a red welt under one eye and scabs forming on a bloody knee.
‘So, I’m sitting on the toilet after football,’ Clare explained. ‘These girls come into the bathroom, and they’re all like, SQUEEEE! Did you hear that new Year Eleven kid is Robin Hood’s brother? SQUEEEE! I want to kiss him and be the mother of his babies . . .’
John gawped. ‘They said that?’
Clare smiled. ‘I made up the kissing and babies part, but they sounded so thrilled you might have a shot.’
John laughed, then stopped because it felt utterly weird having crazy-evil Clare Gisborne standing in his doorway making jokes.
‘You look beat up,’ John said.
Clare nodded, then told her battle story with relish. ‘Coach let me start as striker and said, Show me what you’ve got. This beefy defender marking me kept giving verbals – saying my dad was scum and my accent was common.
‘I bit my tongue, until she slid in with a leg-breaker tackle. Luckily I hurdled and just caught my sock on her stud. But after that it was game on! I sucker-punched her when the ref wasn’t looking. Then she got booked for another tackle on me that should have been straight red. So I waited until just before final whistle and ran my studs down her leg. Turned into a monster scrap, almost every player. She punched me, I punched her. Four of us got sent off! Absolutely brilliant fun!’
‘Did you win?’ John asked.
Clare shrugged. ‘I scored a great volley, but I forget the result . . . Do you mind if I come in?’
John felt uneasy but nodded, then breathed Clare’s sweat as she pulled out the chair under his desk and sat with elbows on the backrest and her legs astride it.
‘My dad’s an arse!’ she spat, then looked up at John with needy eyes.
He’d seen Clare get yelled at and bullied by her dad, but her admission felt huge.
‘Parents are tricky,’ John said.
‘I called him at lunchtime,’ Clare said. ‘Told him it was weird being away from home and not knowing anyone, and he just grunted.
‘Then I said I’d bumped into you. And suddenly he was super-excited. He starts ranting about how he’s sure you’re still in contact with Robin. And that I should make friends with you, and I should try and get on your laptop and read your emails.
‘I swear, my dad cares more about catching your little brother than my happiness.’
‘My mum’s as bad,’ John admitted. ‘She changed my surname without asking. And whenever I ask about visiting my dad, she comes up with all this guff. Saying she’s waiting for forms and I have to be vetted for the approved visitor list. But she’s got so many connections. If she wanted me to see my dad, I’d be there tomorrow.’
‘They’re so controlling,’ Clare agreed. ‘I’m no swot, but I’m gonna work my butt off for the next two years, so I can get into a university as far from Locksley as I can.’
‘I’m not sure my mum realises I have feelings,’ John said. ‘Even when she’s home, she’s just on her laptop, showing more love to her spreadsheets.’
Clare sighed as she rippled the sweaty shirt stuck to her skin. ‘I need a shower. I’m stinking up your room.’
‘I think dinner starts at six,’ John said. ‘We could go over together if you like.’
Clare looked coy as she got off the chair. ‘Beats sitting on my own.’
‘Cool,’ John said, smiling. ‘And feel free to use your kick-boxing on the next person who asks if I can get Robin’s autograph . . .’
28. THE GREAT CASTLE HACK
Robin had his laptop under his arm as he walked into Designer Outlets’ command tent, with Marion a step behind. Will Scarlock had his shirt off, because it had turned so hot, while his wife Emma drank iced tea as she sat texting with bare feet up on her desk.
‘Are you two back on speaking terms?’ Will asked, smiling as he glanced up from a blueprint of the mall’s electrical system spread over the giant planning table. ‘Should I alert security for imminent mayhem?’
Marion grinned. ‘Don’t worry – I’m keeping Robin on a short leash.’
‘Who said it’s Robin I’m worried about?’ Will joked.
‘Iced tea?’ Emma asked, as Robin opened his new computer.
Will laughed as the laptop blazed with flickeri
ng blue and green LEDs. ‘That a computer or a Christmas decoration?’ he teased.
‘It’s state of the art,’ Robin said excitedly. ‘Fast RAM, mega graphics card, razor-sharp screen, but the titanium shell means it’s light enough for travel.’
‘Ooh, titanium . . .’ Marion said, rolling her eyes. ‘Swanky!’
‘Be careful with it,’ Emma warned, acting like a mum as she put drinks in front of Robin and Marion.
Robin wasn’t mad on iced tea, but freezers were a rarity at the mall and chinking ice cubes made it wonderfully cold.
‘Show us what you’ve got then,’ Will said, coming around the table so he could see Robin’s screen.
‘I’m logging in via a VPN so I can’t be traced back to here,’ Robin explained, as he opened various programs and got a connection.
After a minute, the laptop opened an intro screen for StayNet software VERSION 16.3. It had an idyllic aerial shot of Sherwood Castle and the calligraphy type Sherwood Castle Resort logo. Beneath the logo were icons to open modules ranging from guest check-in, to email, staff rotas and golf.
‘Looks like you’ve cracked it!’ Will said happily.
‘Not quite,’ Robin said, as he clicked on the casino module and brought up a username and password screen. ‘I got sent heaps of information last night and I’ve been able to use a tunnelling program to hack the castle’s internet router.’
Emma was watching too and asked. ‘So, this is what you’d see if you logged into the system inside the castle, at the check-in desk or a manager’s office?’
‘For sure.’ Robin nodded, but then tapped his finger on the password box. ‘Trouble is, you need staff passwords to get further. Preferably high-level ones.’
‘Why high level?’ Will asked.
‘StayNet software has customised security levels,’ Robin explained. ‘A cleaner or a shop assistant probably has level-one clearance and can just access the module they need to work a checkout, or see which rooms need cleaning. But we want a password from someone senior, who has access to all the important stuff.’
‘Sheriff Marjorie runs a tight ship,’ Will said, as he whistled through his teeth. ‘Her top people are well paid and loyal.’
‘There’s a weakness though,’ Robin said brightly. ‘The IT department also needs passwords that give full access, so they can fix any part of the system that goes wrong. So that’s who I want to target.’
‘How?’ Will asked, as Robin drank more iced tea.
‘I need to get on a computer inside Sherwood Castle,’ Robin said. ‘Then I can install a keylogger. I’ll set it to log every keystroke made on that computer and send me a text file in an email. You can easily identify passwords because they’re the first thing people type in.’
Will smiled uneasily. ‘You’re talking about you – Robin Hood with a bounty on his head – being inside Sherwood Castle?’
Robin nodded. ‘It’s a seven-hundred-room resort and casino. It’s not a fortress.’
‘We looked it up,’ Marion added. ‘You can book a room for £319 a night.’
‘My concern is Robin being recognised, not the cost of a room,’ Will said.
Emma nodded. ‘Can’t you show someone else how to install this key-log thingummy?’
‘It’s like Unai teaching us how to fix the roof,’ Robin explained. ‘I can do things he’s taught me, but if anything goes wrong, you need an expert.’
‘Knowing what’s happening inside the castle will help us stay one step ahead of Sheriff Marjorie,’ Emma said, as she exchanged a look with her husband. ‘But can we put Robin in this much danger?’
‘He can wear a disguise,’ Marion suggested. ‘He dressed like a girl when we robbed Captain Cash.’
Will rocked his head from side to side. ‘I suppose, if we can find a way to stop Robin being recognised.’
‘Hell yes!’ Robin hooted, as Marion gave him a high five.
‘Hold your horses!’ Will warned. ‘I’ll try and work all the details out, but you two must promise that you’re not going to run off again. If we decide this is too risky, that’s the end of it.’
Will leaned closer to Robin and held his gaze.
‘I swear,’ Robin said solemnly, as Marion nodded. ‘On my mum’s grave.’
29. THE JOY OF FABRIC SOFTENER
The battered SUV pulling into a dark alleyway between two Nottingham apartment blocks was so old it had a Made in Locksley bumper sticker. Will Scarlock’s nineteen-year-old son, Sam, sat in the driver’s seat, with Marion alongside.
‘That’s her,’ Marion said, as her Aunt Lucy stepped out of a battered door behind a garbage chute.
‘Off you go,’ Sam told her, as he pulled up. ‘Take the bags.’
As Marion ran to her aunt, Sam left the engine ticking over as he walked to the back of the car. He made sure nobody else was in sight before opening the hatchback.
‘Showtime, pal!’ Sam said, as he whipped away a blanket.
‘Stinks like something died back here,’ Robin complained, as he slid out of the trunk and grabbed a backpack.
‘Price of being a hero,’ Sam joked, then gave Robin a friendly shove. ‘Get inside and don’t go doing anything crazy.’
‘I’ll try my best.’ Robin grinned.
Sam reversed down the driveway as Robin scrambled inside, feeling disorientated. Usually when grown-ups say they’re going to think about something they take forever, but once Will spoke to Indio and agreed that Robin’s plan made sense, they’d pulled everything together in three days.
‘Top floor,’ Lucy said, as Robin stepped into a bare concrete stairwell, with flies circling a burst bin bag.
Marion had raced ahead, but Robin stayed with Lucy. He’d not met her before and thought she looked like an older, chunkier version of her sister, Indio.
‘Thanks for letting me use your den these past months,’ Robin told her politely.
‘You’re very welcome,’ Lucy smiled. ‘Have you eaten all my hot sauce?’
The den had three shelves lined with Lucy’s hot-sauce collection and he laughed at the thought.
‘Otto dared Matt to try your Habanero Monster and it made him puke! Me and Marion practically died laughing.’
Lucy laughed as they rounded a landing. ‘I miss my crazy nephews!’
‘Karma and Indio would probably let you have ’em,’ Robin joked.
By this time they’d reached the door of the third-floor apartment Lucy shared with her partner, Seb. The one-bed apartment was cramped and smelled like body spray. The washer and dryer were in a cupboard inside the entrance and Marion was already down on her knees pulling mounds of dirty clothes out of her bag.
‘I know dryers and chemicals are bad for the environment,’ she explained to Robin. ‘But at the mall my clothes never come out soft. And everything gets washed with my brothers’ stuff, so half the time it comes out smelling worse than it went in.’
Lucy unscrewed the lid on a fancy little bottle of fabric conditioner. ‘I got this for you,’ she told Marion, then read from the packaging. ‘Succulent Fuchsia Blossom with Scent Blast technology. It’s supposed to keep clothes smelling nice for five or six washes.’
As Marion sniffed her fabric conditioner and told Lucy she was the best auntie ever, Robin walked down a short hallway to the living room. Lucy’s partner Seb sat in a rattan chair with Sony headphones and a crime novel.
‘The legendary Mr Hood!’ Seb said dramatically, as he got up to shake Robin’s hand.
Seb looked ten years too young to be Lucy’s boyfriend and everything about him was long. Long arms, long nose, long hair and long bony feet minus one big toe.
‘Snake bit me in the forest,’ Seb explained when he caught Robin looking at it.
Once everyone had drinks and Marion’s washing was churning, Seb told Robin to stand in the middle of the living room with arms straight at his sides. At the same time, Lucy went into the bedroom and came back with three designer-brand carrier bags filled with boys’ clothes
.
‘How much did this lot cost?’ Marion asked, clearly jealous as she peered into a Ralph Lauren bag.
‘Don’t sweat it,’ Lucy said, as her niece fished out a pair of trendy black jeans. ‘I run the Animal Freedom Militia campaign office here in Nottingham. ‘I’ve set up brilliant fundraising teams at all the big universities, and someone recently left us a nice donation in their will.’
‘These would fit me,’ Marion hinted, holding the jeans up in front of her legs.
‘Stealing from a charity?’ Robin said, grinning. ‘Despicable!’
Lucy smiled as she took the jeans and threw them towards Marion’s backpack.
‘Must have lost that pair . . .’ Lucy said, as Marion looked chuffed.
Robin was starting to feel weird with his arms by his sides and Seb moving around, staring like he was a sculpture.
‘Indio told me your background was theatre costumes,’ Robin said.
Seb made a tiny nod and snort, like he was a great artist who shouldn’t be disturbed.
‘This long scruffy hair is versatile,’ he announced finally. ‘I can easily cut it to a different look. You have broad shoulders too, so I can sew padding into a vest and make you fatter, without your body looking out of proportion.
‘I’m thinking some glasses with clear lenses, and for clothes a preppy rich-kid look. Chinos, striped shirt, lambswool sweater around your neck and smart casual shoes. But that filthy backpack of yours doesn’t fit the part.’
‘I didn’t think about bags,’ Lucy said, sounding frustrated. ‘But the shops open at ten, so I can pick something up.’
‘And no bow,’ Seb said. ‘That’s a huge giveaway.’
‘Indio made me leave it at Designer Outlets,’ Robin said, trying to ignore Seb combing fingers through his hair. ‘I feel naked without it, but I’ve got a little stun gun Flash took from Agnes McIntyre when . . .’
He broke off, embarrassed, so Marion finished his sentence.
‘When this twerp ran off and almost got himself killed,’ she said.
‘Hey!’ Robin snapped.
Marion gave Robin the finger and he couldn’t retaliate because he was standing to attention for Seb.
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