by Alison Jack
Although the morning didn't turn out to bring an encounter with Abi, Louis found that her uncle was extremely good company and the two of them passed a very happy and productive time together. In the Pet Care tent there were charts and leaflets to be set out, all prominently displaying the Pro Spo logo. A sturdy table was placed in the middle of the room on which Chris would examine the condition of the smaller pets, and a stack of forms was on hand for him to grade the state of each animal's coat, eyes, nose or beak and general wellbeing. Louis and Chris also set up a table and chairs at which pet owners could sit later to receive Chris's advice on the health or behaviour of their animal.
Outside, Louis helped Chris set up obstacle courses of various sizes for the Best-Trained Dog categories, and an area was cordoned off for the bird of prey display, due to take place when the smaller animals were safely back in their cages! Chris's enthusiasm for his chosen profession was contagious, and Louis found himself more interested in the world of animals than he could ever have believed possible. He stored up his new-found knowledge in his head, imagining scenes in which he, cool and calm, entertained Abi with a string of intelligent but witty animal care anecdotes. She, in turn, would be so impressed with his knowledge that she'd fling herself into his arms, realising that she wanted to spend her life with him, have his babies, grow old in his embrace…
‘Louis,’ said Chris, amused, ‘if you've finished hugging yourself, I could do with a hand moving this podium!’
Mortified that he'd been acting out his fantasies – in front of Abi's uncle too – Louis hastily helped Chris move the winners’ podium into place, then headed home at a run to hide his embarrassment from the world. Chris watched Louis go, wishing the young man would learn a bit of confidence and wondering if Louis had been dreaming his arms were actually wrapped around Abi. Chris had no doubt that Louis was in love with Abi; the young man's gaze never left her whenever she was about, and a wistful little smile always played around Louis's mouth when Abi's name was mentioned.
The gardens of The White Lion Inn and the school playing fields were heaving with people by the time Louis had showered, changed and got over his embarrassment a little. He returned to the fair with Sarah, a very excited Jenny and also, unexpectedly, his mother Nicola. Jane and Alex Radcliffe had walked down to the village with the Trevelyans and Sarah, the two children chattering happily the whole time. Jane's husband, Bob, was yet again working away, as he seemed to more and more these days, and the strain of being separated from her husband was often plain to see behind Jane's tired eyes. Today, however, she seemed to be quite relaxed as she talked to the unusually lucid Nicola, and watched Jenny and Alex skipping excitedly in front of them with the Radcliffes’ West Highland terrier, Mackie. That Mackie would win the best-kept, best-trained, best-behaved and bestest EVER categories in the dog competitions was not in doubt as far as the two little girls were concerned. The children's high spirits and the beautiful day combined to make it a very happy group that joined the thronging mass of people awaiting the grand opening of the Sponsors’ Fair.
The wait wasn't a long one. Almost as if he'd been waiting for his family to arrive, Lysander Trevelyan took to the podium that Louis had helped to place earlier and grabbed the microphone waiting there.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon and welcome to the annual Applethwaite and District Sponsors’ Fair. It is a pleasure to see so many of you here today. I suspect some of you have travelled from further afield to join in our fair, and I would like to extend a very warm welcome to you too. The Sponsorship Scheme has benefitted all of us immeasurably, and today we gather to celebrate those benefits. What a wonderful day we have too – even the weather smiles upon the St Benedict Scheme!
‘I won't bore you any more with my ramblings. Ladies and gentlemen, please would you give a very warm Lake District welcome to none other than Lady ROSANNA ST BENEDICT!’
The welcome for the oldest child of the St Benedict Scheme's founder was indeed very warm; in fact, it could easily have been described as tumultuous. Beautiful and composed, Lady Rosanna gave the applause plenty of time to die down, enjoying the adoration of the sycophantic fools before her, full lips curved in a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said finally, shaking her cascade of golden-brown curls away from her face and knowing the effect her appearance would be having on the red-blooded males in the audience, ‘I would like to echo Lysander's words; it is indeed a pleasure to be with you today to enjoy this splendid fair. I can see that you are all anxious to explore the many delights provided today for your entertainment, so I will not keep you much longer. It merely remains for me to remind you of a few little rules and regulations. All those of you who are of age will have been given tickets entitling you to four alcoholic drinks. Please present your ticket at the bar when ordering your drink; no valid ticket, no drink, I'm afraid. These tickets are for your personal use only. If you do not wish to drink, please hand them back to a steward. DO NOT under ANY circumstances give them to another individual. As you know, St Benedict condones responsible drinking, and anyone spoiling this beautiful day with drunkenness will be ejected.
‘The successful applicants chosen by our Sports Sponsorship rep, Dave, to enter the cycle race will have been informed by email during the last week. Please be at the starting line on the main street with your bike and all your cycling kit at two o'clock sharp. Helmets, high-visibility jackets, kneepads and elbow pads must be worn, as always, when cycling. St Benedict cares about your safety; Sports Sponsorship and Lysander Trevelyan's Leisure and Fitness Sponsor Group both condone safe cycling. More information on sport and fitness safety can be found on both groups’ websites, and I urge you all to take the time to familiarise yourselves with this information. For the benefit of us all, anyone practising sport in an unsafe way will be expected to attend one of the excellent Health and Safety retraining courses provided by the Health Sponsorship Group.’
Louis, already bored by Lady Rosanna's speech, wondered idly what the Health Sponsorship Group would make of Gideon's methods of gymnastic training. Gideon relied on Louis having the good sense not to hurt himself rather than following any Sponsor Group endorsed health and safety rules! Looking around him, Louis noticed that most other people were gazing at Lady Rosanna, intent on her every word. If they too were bored, they certainly weren't showing it.
Lady Rosanna was still droning on, this time about the importance of washing one's hands after handling animals. Never one to draw unnecessary attention to himself, Louis arranged his features into what he hoped was an expression of interest similar to those around him while he let his mind wander off into a world where Abi held him close and told him she loved him. Instead, however, he found his mind wandering into an increasingly familiar room in a luxurious house.
The brown-haired young man was by the window today, and Louis found himself simultaneously standing in a crowd of people in Cumbria and next to the solitary man in his room. Looking out of the window, Louis had a brief view of a wide, tree-lined avenue down below, and a handsome, red-brick house opposite, before turning to get another look at the mysterious young man.
‘Who are you?’ said Louis silently.
‘Look at me!’ replied the man. ‘Look! Think!’
‘You can stop being so interested now, Louis,’ said Alan Santiago's voice suddenly, bringing Louis back from the mysterious room and the mysterious man to the reality of a sunny field in Applethwaite. ‘The speeches have finished, and the fun's just begun.’
Laughing, Alan walked off hand in hand with Dexter towards the pub. Louis looked over at the podium, beside which Lady Rosanna was talking to Lysander. Feeling his son's gaze, Lysander turned and called him over.
‘Damn,’ muttered Louis to himself. Seeing no means of escape, he walked over to the podium.
‘Rose, I'd like you to meet my son, Louis,’ said Lysander as Louis approached. ‘Louis, may I introduce you to Lady Rosanna St Benedict. It's ama
zing that I've never had the opportunity to introduce you before.’
The Lady Rosanna regarded Louis's outstretched hand with disdain, as though touching it would violate her in some way. Louis dropped his hand, contenting himself instead with a small smile at Lady Rosanna.
‘Look!’ echoed a voice in his head. ‘Think!’
Light-brown hair. Matching coloured eyes. Well-defined features. Elegant poise. The resemblance was obvious and unmistakeable.
‘OH MY GOD!’ Louis exclaimed, hastily adding, ‘It is such an honour to meet you,’ when he saw his father's and Lady Rosanna's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
‘Likewise,’ said Lady Rosanna unconvincingly, before pacing off to join the party of Sponsors she'd chosen to accompany her to this wretched backwater.
‘Don't overdo it, Louis,’ said Lysander sharply to his son. ‘It sounded like you were taking the piss!’
As Lysander walked away from him, Louis's mind was working so furiously that he didn't even pause to regret the fact that he never seemed to be able to do anything right in his father's eyes. There was no doubt about it, none whatsoever. Whoever the unhappy young man in the mysterious room was, he was clearly very closely related to Lady Rosanna St Benedict.
Still deep in thought, Louis walked slowly and aimlessly around the various stalls and displays going on, stopping finally to watch a group of men and women participating in an energetic exercise class.
‘Dance Your Way to Fitness! Endorsed by Sports Sponsorship and the Leisure and Fitness Group,’ screamed the huge banner displayed behind the fitness coach, a hard-faced blonde woman who was putting her class through a gruelling warm-up.
‘And step – two three four – kick and jog and turn – two three four – come on! – two three four – and push – two three four…’
‘Don't feel like joining in, Louis?’ said a familiar voice by his side. Louis turned in surprise to find Gideon had wheeled himself over to watch the workout. ‘If that's the warm-up, I'd hate to see what she puts them through in the main workout.’
‘COME ON NOW! NO SLACKING!’ shrieked the hard-faced instructor. ‘Don't think I can't see you at the back – two three four – because I can – two three four – keep it going!’
‘Let's move on,’ said Gideon, ‘or she'll have you joining in. Hell, she'll probably have me joining in!’
Smiling at Gideon's unusually good mood, Louis walked beside the older man's chair into the shaded pub garden, glad to get out of the now fierce rays of the sun.
‘Fancy a beer, Gideon?’ Louis asked. ‘You're allowed four apparently.’
‘I'm not allowed any, actually,’ Gideon replied quietly. ‘But you go ahead.’
‘Why ever not? Didn't you get one of these alcohol ration book things when you arrived?’ asked Louis, waving the four tickets he'd been given. Gideon stared thoughtfully around him for a while, and when he finally did reply it was in a voice so quiet that Louis had to lower his head to make out the words.
‘Got a bit drunk and disorderly a few months ago. Got a bit rowdy, bit out of hand, silly really.’
‘How does that affect whether or not you can drink today?’ Louis asked, confused.
‘Drinking ban,’ whispered Gideon even more quietly than before. ‘You heard Lady Rosanna earlier; the Sponsors don't look favourably on those who drink irresponsibly, so I have an indefinite ban on drinking in public. Shame really, a cold lager would go down a treat right now.’
‘Well, let me get you one out of my tickets,’ said Louis, turning to go into the bar and stopping abruptly when Gideon grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.
‘You lunatic!’ hissed Gideon. ‘The place is crawling with Sponsors! If you're caught supplying an undesirable such as me with beer, you'll be in deep trouble. It's probably only the fact that your father's a member of St Benedict's inner circle that allows you to even associate with me.’
Louis sat down on the table beside Gideon's chair. ‘What do you mean, undesirable?’ he asked eventually.
‘Shhh!’ whispered Gideon as Lady Rosanna's voice drifted out from the inside of the pub. No longer warm and friendly, the young woman was giving someone within a very hard time indeed.
‘What is this? What are you telling me? You forgot?’
An indistinct murmur came in reply before Lady Rosanna continued her rant.
‘You CRETINS! You total bloody blithering IDIOTS! How difficult can it be to take the vouchers from them as they buy their drinks? DON'T tell me no one's had a beer; I can see plenty of people walking round with plastics full of the stuff! You know the rules we put in place; we need to know who's drinking and how much, how the HELL can we do that if you DON'T TAKE THEIR TICKETS?’
Another murmur.
‘No, do you hear me, no! There are children here today, this is a showpiece St Benedict event; I will NOT have it associated with drunkenness and loutish behaviour. That's it, the bar's closed. What was Trevelyan thinking, WHAT WAS HE THINKING putting a couple of… of… your kind in charge? While we're on the subject, stop going round holding hands! There are children here – what kind of example does it set to them? Unnatural!’
The last word was louder as Lady Rosanna swept from the pub, composing her features into a smile befitting the benevolent representative of the Sponsorship Scheme. Louis had the presence of mind to leap from his seat and grab the handles of Gideon's chair, hoping that Lady Rosanna would believe them to just be approaching the pub at that very moment.
‘I'm very sorry, but due to a bit of a mix-up the bar's closed,’ she said smoothly, her silky voice so unlike the screaming banshee she'd been a few minutes earlier.
‘Um…wheelchair-friendly facilities…’ stuttered Louis.
‘Of course. Yes, they're inside, I believe. Oh; it's you, Liam. Do you know where I can find your father? I need a word with him.’ Without waiting for an answer, Lady Rosanna and her entourage marched off into the crowd.
‘Well, Liam,’ said Gideon, laughing, ‘I think your old man is in for a hard time.’ At that moment, Alan Santiago peered out from the door of the pub.
‘Has she gone?’ he asked in a stage whisper before emerging into the garden to join Gideon and Louis. ‘Am I glad I'm gay,’ he continued. ‘There's no way I could put up with that every day. Did you hear her?’
Alan's pleasant face broke into a smile, but his brown eyes still looked somewhat shocked at the grilling he and Dexter had just received.
‘Women!’ he snorted as Dexter appeared at his side and laid a hand on his arm.
‘Careful, Al,’ said Dexter. ‘Walls have ears and all that jazz.’
‘Best not touch me, darling,’ Alan replied. ‘It's unnatural, remember? Bloody woman!’
‘They're not all bad,’ said Louis without thinking.
‘No, of course they're not,’ said Alan, a genuine smile now lighting up his face. ‘Especially the beautiful Abilene, eh, Louis? Come on, Dex, better go and mingle now we're no longer allowed to serve beer to our thirsty public.’
‘Why did Dex tell Al to be quiet?’ Louis asked, still blushing furiously at Alan's words. ‘He had every right to be angry; she was so rude to them.’
‘Will you lower the volume, Louis!’ snarled Gideon. ‘I know you're not renowned for you observational skills, but surely even you've noticed that people as a rule do not criticise the Sponsors.’
‘Why not?’ asked Louis. ‘This country practises free speech…’
‘Does it? Does it really?’ replied Gideon sadly. ‘Stop blushing, will you?’ he added, suddenly grumpy once more. ‘I know you're head over heels in love with the Farrell girl. Now, wheel me over there. I want to see what her brother's up to.’
Sighing, Louis wheeled Gideon in the direction indicated by his coach. Anxious though he was to find out more about the St Benedict family, particularly whether Lady Rosanna had a brother, Louis recognised that Gideon was unlikely to give him any answers in such a crowded environment.
Cameron Farrell was at t
hat moment engaged in demonstrating the fine art of keepy-uppy to a group of adoring children, all watching intently as the young man effortlessly bounced the football on his head. Eighteen years old with dark curly hair, brown eyes and tanned skin, Cameron very much favoured his Italian mother in looks; but the skill with a football was definitely from Cameron and Abi's late father, Elliot.
‘He's certainly a chip off the old block,’ Gideon commented, as Cameron passed the football to an eager child and came over to join them.
‘Gideon! Louis!’ he said. ‘Enjoying the day?’
‘It's all good so far,’ replied Gideon. Louis, taking his cue from the older man and keeping the conversation light, told Cameron about the ridiculously gruelling warm-up routine he'd watched the exercise class performing earlier.
‘It's a wonder that anyone sticks with those classes,’ he commented.
‘I think they have to; Leisure and Fitness like the folk they sponsor to keep themselves in top condition,’ replied Cameron, moving with Louis and Gideon in the direction of the Pet Care tent.
‘Do they?’ said Louis, wondering how he could be so unfamiliar with the Sponsorship Group headed by his own father.
‘Well, yes,’ Cameron said. ‘It wouldn't be a very good advert for the fitness group if its members were overweight. I thought you'd have known that, Louis!’
‘Have you applied for Sponsorship yet, Cameron?’ asked Gideon quietly.
‘Not yet, Gideon. It seems I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Louis, more confused by the second.
‘Well, I can't have a career in football without Sports Sponsorship, but the moment I apply Abi's going to skin me alive. Of course, after what happened to Dad…’
‘Enough now, Cameron,’ Gideon interrupted smoothly.
‘Yep, you're right. Now, what's Uncle Chris up to?’
