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  ‘You're pushing your luck, Trevelyan. Very well, I'll centre the London search around Walthamstow. Dyer and his men can take care of that village up north when they get there. Don't worry, Lysander, we'll find your boy.’ Lord William replaced the receiver and ended the call.

  That's what does worry me, thought Lysander. For God's sake, Louis, don't be in Walthamstow!

  Peering through net curtains, Lisa said, ‘They're going. Looks like Trevelyan was true to his word.’

  Sarah joined Lisa at the window, and the two of them watched the Sponsored making their way away from the land surrounding the homes of the Unsponsored.

  ‘We'll give them a while to get well clear then start loading the car. Should be getting dark by then, which will help. Jen, start getting your things together my love…’

  Sarah turned to be confronted by Jenny's furious face.

  ‘I am NOT,’ said the child, ‘going without Louis.’

  ‘Jenny, we can't help Louis by staying,’ said Sarah, as Jenny began to scream again.

  ‘No! No! No!’ she wailed. ‘I want LOUIS…’

  For the first time in her life, Sarah smacked Jenny. Just once, on the leg. So startled was the child that she stopped in mid howl and gaped at Sarah.

  ‘I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm so sorry to do that, but every time you scream Louis's name you make things worse for him. We must get home; we can do more to help Louis there than we can here. Do you understand? I need you to be grown up and sensible now.’

  Jenny took in Sarah's words, then nodded solemnly. Saddened to see the little girl have to mature in an instant, Sarah was nonetheless relieved when Jenny began to get her things together ready for the journey home.

  It was indeed getting dark before the Lonsdales managed to get everything into the car. So cautious were they that each trip from the flat to the car took a while, every part of the walk having to be searched and declared clear before they would proceed. When Sarah and Jenny were ready to go, Lisa and her children said their goodbyes in the flat, deciding it was safer if only Rick accompanied his sister and Jenny to Sarah's car.

  ‘Bye, Sarah, and good luck,’ whispered Lisa, her voice breaking with tears.

  ‘Good luck to you too, Lisa,’ said Sarah, equally upset and fearful. ‘Thank you for everything. Come on, Jen, I'm sure you'll get to see Matt and Charlotte again soon.’

  The child waved to her new friends, then left the sanctuary of the flat with Sarah to begin the long journey home. Relieved to see Jenny drifting into sleep as soon as she was strapped into her child seat, Sarah hugged her brother fiercely before climbing into the car.

  ‘I'm going right now, Rick,’ she said, ‘before I cry.’

  It was midnight before Lysander received the call he'd been waiting for on his unregistered mobile phone.

  ‘It's Sarah,’ said the housekeeper shortly as soon as he'd identified himself. ‘Jenny and I are clear.’

  ‘One safe, one to find,’ said Lysander to himself as Sarah ended the call abruptly.

  Louis spent the evening with his new acquaintances. His hands and feet bound with rope, he sat with his back to the wall of the old warehouse building into which the men had dragged him earlier. Although bound and a prisoner, Louis wasn't being treated badly by the men, who had given him plenty of food and a large cushion to protect him from the concrete floor. As Louis learned more about the men, he understood their need for caution; and inconvenient though it was to be tied up, he could forgive their actions. It turned out he'd run into one of the only places certain Unsponsored people could call home. Couples without children, divorcees, single people, gay couples; none were considered worthy of even a small flat like the one in which the Lonsdales lived. Persecuted and hounded by the Sponsored, these people did their best to hide away and live their lives in peace.

  ‘Right, Louis Trevelyan,’ said the thickset man, who introduced himself as Rob. ‘What were you doing bursting into our yard earlier?’

  ‘Escaping,’ said Louis simply.

  ‘From whom?’

  ‘Sponsored teenagers. I think they wanted to give me a kicking, and I wasn't hanging about to find out if I was right’

  ‘Sponsored were trying to beat you up?’

  ‘They didn't know who I was, and as I said I wasn't about to hang around to tell them.’

  ‘I still don't understand,’ said the man called Mike, who was affectionately known as Brains by the rest of the men. ‘Why did they think you were Unsponsored?’

  ‘Because they caught me coming out of a public phone box. Also, in a way, I am Unsponsored.’

  ‘How come?’ asked Rob.

  ‘Well, I'm not Sponsored,’ replied Louis. ‘And from what I've seen, I don't want to be.’

  ‘You don't need to be, more like. Being Trevelyan's son must come with privileges!’

  ‘Who were you phoning?’ asked Brains

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘From the phone box?’

  ‘Friends,’ said Louis shortly. ‘Look, I know next to nothing about you, so why do you expect me to tell you my life story?’

  Ignoring the question, the older man who had prevented Louis from reopening the yard gates earlier asked, ‘Why's he wearing sunglasses? It's getting dark outside!’

  ‘Good point, Jim,’ said Rob. ‘Get his glasses off, boys. We want to see your eyes when you're answering our questions, young man.’

  ‘That would be a cruel thing to do,’ said a female voice. A girl, who Louis guessed to be about Marina's age, emerged from the shadows; short red hair framing her face nicely, grey eyes full of warmth. Hugging Brains, she grinned round at Louis's captors. ‘Hi, Dad, guys. I don't know why you've got a bloke tied up here, but I'm guessing he's wearing dark glasses because he's albino, and even the light in here will hurt his eyes. Am I right?’

  As the last bit was directed at Louis, he nodded gratefully and thanked the young woman.

  ‘A right chip off the old block you, ain't you, Chloe,’ said Rob, smiling affectionately at his friend's daughter. ‘Chloe, meet Lysander Trevelyan's son. Louis, this is Brains's daughter, Chloe.’

  Chloe and Louis smiled at each other.

  ‘I would shake hands,’ said Louis, still smiling and lifting his bound wrists, ‘but…’

  ‘Yeah, Rob, why is he tied up?’ asked Chloe. ‘I'd guessed he was Trevelyan's son; he's the one the Sponsored are after.’

  It was difficult to tell who was more surprised – Louis or the men holding him captive.

  ‘Yeah,’ Chloe continued, ‘the place has been crawling with the bastards until about half an hour ago. I would have popped over earlier, but every time I left Mum's I got a leaflet thrust in my face and a million questions about,’ gesturing at Louis, ‘him.’

  All eyes in the room turned on Louis.

  ‘Why are the Sponsored looking for you? Precious to them are you?’

  ‘Far from it,’ said Louis, gazing back at the men and Chloe. Looking into Chloe's friendly face, and figuring that if anyone had good reason to hate the Sponsorship Scheme it was this group of people, Louis told them everything that had happened since he, Sarah and Jenny had left Applethwaite. When he finally finished the group were still staring at him, their expressions ranging from confusion to admiration.

  ‘I still can't believe you know so little about the Sponsorship Scheme,’ said Rob, finally breaking the silence that followed Louis's tale. ‘You being a Trevelyan.’

  ‘I don't think we can blame the lad for who his father is,’ said Brains before Louis could reply. ‘Not everyone's as lucky as Chloe here.’

  Everyone chuckled as Brains hugged his daughter, then added, ‘I'm inclined to believe the lad.’

  ‘I know nothing about the Sponsorship Scheme because I've been shielded from it my whole life, up until Theo made contact anyway. Then the people around me started to let me know what we're up against with the Sponsors, and I don't like what I've seen one little bit.’

  ‘Why would people feel the need to protect y
ou from the Sponsors, given who your father is?’

  Louis had known he'd be asked this question before long, but anticipation didn't make him feel any less foolish about his answer.

  ‘One of St Benedict's right-hand men made a prediction just before I was born about a fair-haired boy who'll grow up to topple the Sponsors. My father tried to laugh it off as rubbish; the guy who reckoned he was the seer has never got on with my dad apparently…’

  ‘O'Reilly?’ said Brains. ‘It's well documented that O'Reilly and Trevelyan hate each other.’

  ‘Yeah, that was his name. Mortimer O'Reilly, Financial Sponsorship. My father tried to ridicule him, but surprisingly St Benedict took it seriously.’

  ‘Not really surprising,’ said Chloe. ‘Tyrants often get paranoid. Who set up your protection then – your dad?’

  ‘No chance! My father and I aren't close. No, it was Isabelle St Benedict who warned her brother Elliot, and he set it up apparently.’

  At the mention of Isabelle's name, the group smiled. Clearly their memories of Theo's mother were as fond as the Lonsdales’ had been.

  ‘Elliot Farrell set up your protection?’ said Rob. ‘Wow!’

  ‘Tell us more about St Benedict's son!’ said Jim. ‘I still can't believe you waltzed into SB's house.’

  ‘I didn't exactly waltz,’ replied Louis laughing, then became more serious as he told the group about Theo's imprisonment and the hell of his friend's life.

  ‘All this is done with his father's full knowledge,’ Louis finished sadly.

  The group fell silent for a while, then Brains asked, ‘If the St Benedict boy is kept a closely guarded prisoner, how did he make contact with you?’ Once again, Louis had to answer a question he'd been both anticipating and dreading.

  ‘I know it sounds mad, but he contacted me in my head. We were best friends as kids, before Izzy was banned by Lord William from coming up north. The only thing St Benedict can't imprison is Theo's mind. He, er, contacted me …’

  Louis's voice trailed off as he realised how crazy he must sound to the group. Indeed, most of the men were smiling incredulously.

  ‘He made contact in your head, did he…’ began Jim, but Louis interrupted, suddenly desperately tired of the whole conversation.

  ‘Look, that's what happened. Believe me, don't believe me; I'm beyond caring. So, are you going to give me up to the Sponsors, are you going to let me go home or am I destined to sit on this cushion for the rest of my life?’

  The men and Chloe looked at each other. Finally, it was Chloe who answered.

  ‘We're going to help you, Louis.’ Slipping a knife out of her boot, she cut Louis's hands and feet free.

  ‘Firstly I think we should contact these Lonsdale people,’ continued Chloe. ‘They must be worried sick, so I don't think they'll mind a call at silly o'clock in the morning. Hopefully all the Sponsored will be in their beds; most of them are on curfews, aren't they?’

  Everyone smiled at Chloe's reminder of the rules governing the lives of the Sponsored. Tough though their own lives were, Rob, Brains and the others cherished their freedom.

  ‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘Let's go.’

  The group decided that safety lay in numbers, and so they all accompanied Louis to the nearest phone box, which turned out to be the same one he'd used the previous afternoon to call the Lonsdales. Hoping that the ring of the phone in the middle of the night wouldn't attract unwanted attention for his friends, Louis dialled.

  ‘Hello,’ said Rick, snatching up the receiver almost immediately, his voice alert.

  ‘Rick, I'm OK. I'm safe!’

  ‘Louis…’

  ‘Rick, I'm sorry, can't explain now. I'm with good people, Unsponsored people, but we're vulnerable out here. Can we come back to the flat?’

  ‘Of course, the coast should be clear. You know the lift's code? Good. I'm not going to risk coming downstairs at this time of night. Louis, be careful!’

  ‘I will. See you soon, Rick.’

  This time, having the advantage of streetwise company, Louis did manage to make it back safely to the Lonsdales’ flat. Like Louis's group, Lisa and Rick clearly hadn't slept at all that night, so Lisa was making coffee for everyone pretty much the whole time it took to swap news. Louis introduced his new friends, all of whom now crammed into the flat and sat on every available surface. The Lonsdale children appeared, eyes wide with curiosity, and no one had the heart to shoo them back to bed, so it was very cosy indeed in the living room. For the second time that night Louis shared the details of his conversation with Theo and all that had happened since. Rick and Lisa then told the group about Lysander's unexpected phone call, and Sarah's escape from London with Jenny. Right on cue, the phone rang just as the Lonsdales finished their tale.

  ‘Allow me,’ said Louis, snatching up the receiver before anyone could stop him.

  ‘Lonsdale residence,’ he said, grinning and holding the receiver away from his ear as Sarah screamed in delight from the north of the country.

  ‘Louis…’ she began, but then the receiver was taken from her and a familiar, grumpy voice said, ‘Where the bloody HELL have you been Trevelyan?’

  ‘Hello, Gideon, good to hear your voice,’ said Louis honestly; his mentor's bad temper had never sounded so sweet.

  ‘Good to hear yours too, Louis,’ said Gideon softly. ‘Now, some of Lord William's henchmen are here. They arrived yesterday evening. Your mother…’

  ‘She's in trouble too, Gideon. She lied for me when I was with Theo. I knew the thugs were on their way; I haven't had a chance to warn…’

  ‘Your mother is safe, thanks to a timely warning from your father of all people. Your home is not safe. If you're coming back to Applethwaite, and I hope you are, I suggest you head straight on up to my place. Sarah and Jenny are here already.’

  ‘I'll do that, Gideon. God knows how I'm going to get home, but I'll do it somehow. Please tell Dex and Alan that Dyer and co are after them too. I think they mean to give Alan a kicking to teach Dex a lesson…’

  ‘I'll warn them first thing in the morning, Louis; I promise. Get home quickly. I miss you.’

  Without giving Louis time to reply, Gideon cut off the call.

  ‘Louis, that was very foolish snatching up the phone like that,’ said Rick. ‘What if it had been the Sponsors?’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry. Talking of Sponsors, I ought to phone my father.’

  The Unsponsored looked at him in alarm.

  ‘I'll go back to the phone box, if you prefer,’ Louis continued. ‘But he's put himself out to protect Jenny and me tonight, and according to Gideon he's to thank for my mum being safe too. I owe him. Besides, unless any of you have transport, he could be my best hope of getting home.’

  ‘Phone from here,’ said Rick shortly, handing Louis the phone and Lysander's unregistered phone number. Like Rick earlier, Lysander answered almost immediately. Obviously no one was getting a lot of sleep that night!

  ‘Dad,’ said Louis when Lysander answered.

  ‘Louis!’ said Lysander. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Safe,’ said Louis cryptically.

  ‘Of course you're safe, Louis; I wouldn't expect you to be in danger from the Lonsdales!’

  Laughing at Louis's gasp of surprise, Lysander continued: ‘The Lonsdales’ number appeared on my phone as soon as you called. You don't know much about phones, do you?’

  ‘I don't know much about anything, Dad, but I'm learning fast. Now, I need to get home. Any ideas?’

  Lysander was silent for a while, then said, ‘Yes. It's risky, but I think it'll buy us time.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘You're my son, Louis, and it's about time I started acting like a father. Now, I don't think you should be putting the Lonsdales at risk any further by chatting on their telephone. If they'll be so good as to give you a bed for what's left of the night, I'll pick you up in the morning. Seven o'clock. Be ready.’

  As soon as Louis put the phone down, Lysander made anot
her call this time on his official number.

  ‘I've found him,’ he said when the call was answered.

  ‘Good,’ replied Brian Mooreland. ‘We'll see you in the morning.’

  Chapter Eight

  Unfortunately for Alan Santiago, Louis's warning came too late. Always an early riser, Alan was awake by six o'clock the morning after Sarah and Jenny's return to Applethwaite. Restless, he shook Dexter's arm a few times in the hope of rousing his boyfriend from sleep, but Dex just mumbled and turned away.

  ‘Bored,’ grumbled Alan to the sleeping Dexter's back, before getting up and pulling on his running gear. Alan liked to keep himself fit, and seeing sun gleaming round the edges of the curtains he decided to make the most of the gorgeous morning by going for a jog before the day got too hot. Locking the door of The White Lion's living quarters behind him, mindful of the fact that unwelcome visitors had arrived in Applethwaite the previous evening, Alan went through his warm-up stretches then set off at a steady pace along the main street of the village.

  ‘Bingo!’ said Stephen Dyer, boss of the unwelcome visitors, watching Alan's progress from the window of the Applethwaite Guesthouse. ‘Job's a good ’un, boys!’

  Stationing themselves around the small village, Dyer and his band of thugs were easily able to track Alan's progress. Alan had never been one to blend into the background; his jogging kit was in eye-catching orange and white, which stood out starkly against the green foothills of ’Thwaite's Fell. Following a good run along the familiar tracks and lanes around Applethwaite, Alan's intention was to return across a narrow packhorse bridge towards the safety of the waking village. However, he was dismayed to find his way blocked.

  ‘Excuse me please, guys,’ he called politely to the pair of Sponsor thugs who were apparently admiring the view on either side of the bridge. The guys didn't move from their positions; they just turned to smile nastily at Alan. Suddenly feeling very scared, Alan halted his steps before he collided with the thugs, and had a fair idea of the sight that would greet him as he turned to look back the way he'd just come. Sure enough, there were five more Sponsor heavies blocking his only escape route, led by the loathsome Stephen Dyer.