The Future King: Logres (20 page)

‘Yeah, I was there,’ Gwenhwyfar reminded him.

‘I don’t think they were involved in the riots,’ Gavin said. ‘All I
know about them is that they’re some kind of collective that’s completely
anti-Milton.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them
doing
anything.’

‘We probably shouldn’t be talking about them really,’ Bedivere said,
half-jokingly. ‘What if we’re overheard by a spy?’

‘A spy?’ Gwenhwyfar asked.

‘Yeah, you know how the government likes people to inform for them. I
hear they like the young.’

‘Usually it’s the farter who first smells the fart,’ Tom mused. ‘Like
the spy who suggests there’s a spy.’

Bedivere laughed. ‘Me? Funny, Tom.’

‘Why do you want to know about
Free
Countries
, anyway?’ Lancelot was quite handsome when he wasn’t scowling.
Finding that suddenly they were locked in each other’s stare, Gwenhwyfar
shrugged uncomfortably.

‘I was just curious. We
did
get
a flyer through the door. I don’t want the police thinking our house is
radical.’

‘They shouldn’t,’ Bedivere shrugged, ‘I mean, everyone has the right
to free speech, don’t they?’

The blare of the cafeteria seemed to amplify. ‘Hypothetically,’
Lancelot muttered.

Curiously Gwenhwyfar observed him, wondering what he meant.

‘Gwen! Supper!’

The call was sharp and impatient. Frowning, Gwenhwyfar abandoned her
half-finished Maths homework and hurried down the stairs. Her parents were
already at the dining table as she joined them, her father still on his feet,
helping her mother to dish up.

‘You should’ve called me,’ he was saying, as he took the plates off
the side and dumped them on the large kitchen table. ‘You shouldn’t have let
them in.’

‘What was I supposed to do?’ Eve snapped, her cheeks burnished. ‘They
had a
warrant
, Garan. I couldn’t very
well send them away.’

‘Any Tom, Dick or Harry can print a false document like that and
pretend it’s legitimate,’ he said, slamming the salt and pepper down as Eve
carefully put out Gwenhwyfar’s supper. ‘How did you know they weren’t going to
take something? They could’ve hurt you. Did you not think of that?’

‘What’s this?’ Gwenhwyfar asked, sitting down.

‘Your foolish mother didn’t think twice about letting two policemen
into the house, that’s what,’ he snapped. Eve’s lips pursed shut in anger. ‘And
with that attack on that woman that happened last week, too! Did you not
think
?’

‘I
told
you, I called the
local police station before I let either of them past the threshold,’ she
retorted, her eyes blazing. ‘I’m not an idiot, Garan! I checked their
registration numbers—they were
happy
for me to. They even
encouraged
it.’

‘The police were here?’ Adrenaline bolted through Gwenhwyfar. ‘Why?’

Her question only seemed to incense her father further. ‘To search
the property, that’s why. I can’t even
begin
to get my head around that one. What were they looking for? What did they
take?’

‘They didn’t
take
anything.’

‘Did you let them into my office?’

‘Of course I did!’ she exclaimed. ‘They had a warrant. How many times
do I have to say it?’

‘You’d think they’d have more important things to do,’ Garan hissed,
livid. ‘Like arresting sexual predators.’

Gwenhwyfar looked to her mother. ‘Why did they have a warrant?’

‘That’s what I want to know.’ Garan cut into his supper, forked a
mountain of it into his mouth, and chewed noisily. ‘What in God’s name could
they be looking for? We’ve just moved in, for Christ’s sake!’

Eve snatched up her glass of water. ‘It’s nothing
we’ve
done,’ she insisted. ‘Milton’s
introduced spot checks on residents new to an area. It’s the government’s way
of tackling housing of illegals and the homeless. It seemed perfectly
standard.’

‘Standard?’ Garan repeated, appalled. ‘Standard my arse! They
probably singled us out because we’re Welsh,’ he bit, his face distorting to an
angry sneer. ‘That house opposite us has just been sold. I’ll bet whoever’s
bought it won’t be receiving a “spot check” when they move in.’

Eve’s cutlery clattered as she dropped it onto her plate. ‘I’m not
Welsh,’ she argued, ‘as your mother always liked to remind me. Nationality has
nothing to do with it. I think it’s good that the police are checking up on who
is moving into the area. For all we know there could be six terrorists next door
plotting to blow something up.’

‘Such people know how to avoid getting caught,’ Garan countered. ‘At
the end of the day it only impacts the average citizen.
Me
.
You
.’ Suddenly he
leant forward, urgency in his eyes. ‘You didn’t let them out of your sight, did
you? Tell me you didn’t do that.’

‘Why?’ Eve’s eyebrows arched. ‘Have you got something to hide?’

‘Of course I haven’t,’ he grumbled. His back snapped straight. ‘It’s
outrageous
, can’t you see it? It’s a
massive invasion of privacy! They have time to search our house but they can’t
be bothered to look out for our daughter? For all we know they’ve bugged us.’

‘I told you—I didn’t let them out of my sight! They barely
touched anything. They had a sweeping look around each room, and were mostly
interested in the attic and the cellar. They were just checking for illegals.’

‘What were they going to do with them if they found them, exactly?’

‘I don’t know! Send them off to Hastings? Isn’t that where they all
go? With the asylum seekers before they get shipped back home?’

Gwenhwyfar swallowed the mouthful she had been chewing, and looked to
her mother. ‘They didn’t touch anything in my room, did they?’

‘No, they just had a look. They left after ten minutes, even warned
me of burglars operating in the area. It was legitimate, one hundred percent.’
She fired a glance at Garan. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like
I’m some kind of idiot.’

‘I’m not treating you like an idiot,’ he insisted. ‘I’m just alarmed.
I had no idea this was happening. I mean, when did that start?’

‘Last year, apparently.’

‘I suppose we wouldn’t have known, would we?’ He offered them both an
apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry. I just wish I had been here. I feel like my home
has been violated.’

In the quiet that followed the argument dissolved, and suddenly it
was as if he hadn’t lost his temper at all. He asked Gwenhwyfar how her day had
been, to which she answered the usual ‘fine’, with a bit of information about
teachers and her homework. Soon they were eating in silence again, interrupted
by a low grumble from Llew.

Eve put her fork down. ‘I’m not sure if it’s anything to worry about,
but I went to the market earlier. Usually on my way I run into that little
boy—do you remember? The one with the rotting teeth—but today he
wasn’t there.’

‘I can’t imagine that he’s there every day, is he?’ said Garan.

‘But that’s the thing, I’ve taken to buying him soup. I always see
him without fail at the exact same time each weekday. Last time he brought his sister.’
Eve caught the disapproval in Garan’s eyes, and scowled. ‘It’s only soup,
Garan.’

‘If you get caught—’

‘He’s a
child.
I know
you’re not supposed to give them anything, but it’s not like it’s money. Olivia
Rose is always giving them money.’

‘Maybe he’s moved to a different area?’ Gwenhwyfar suggested,
battling with the urge to check her computer, just to be sure that the police
definitely hadn’t interfered with it.

‘I’m sure he’ll turn up,’ Garan remarked through a quick smile.
‘Really Eve, you’re too kind for your own good. You shouldn’t feed them. What
if we go on holiday? He’ll become reliant on you.’

‘He’s not a wild animal,’ Eve reminded him sharply. ‘What was I
supposed to do, ignore it? Let him starve?’

‘You’ll be wanting to bring him home, next. He has parents.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Like I said—’

‘It’s a scam, right. I see him every day. I was considering calling
social services, for him and his sister.’

‘If you think it will help.’ There was a long silence. Eve stiffly
rose to clear the plates. Gwenhwyfar stood to lend a hand.

‘I’m sure he’ll turn up, Mam. Maybe social services have picked him
up already?’

‘I would have liked to have known about it,’ Eve said. Smiling, she
shook her head, and turned the taps on full blast. ‘Never mind. I just thought
it was odd, that’s all. He’s probably just found someone who buys him sweets
instead.’

Gwenhwyfar put the condiments back in the cupboard. The legs of
Garan’s chair scraped across the floor. Garan kneed his way past Llew, who was
hovering for scraps. ‘I’m going to check my office,’ he declared, stalking out
of the room. Gwenhwyfar looked to her mother, who offered a sympathetic shrug.

‘He’s just stressed,’ she excused. ‘Work’s a bit hectic for him at
the moment. He’ll be back to his old self in no time, I’m sure.’

Gwenhwyfar hoped so. There wasn’t an evening since they moved here
that hadn’t involved some sort of spat between her parents. Most of it was
passive-aggressive, but it was draining, and she didn’t know how to rectify it
or why it was suddenly a continuing problem.

French had traditionally been a lonely affair until Lancelot returned
to school, and unfortunately for Gwenhwyfar the empty table she had chosen to
sit at just so happened to be his. It was Friday, and encouraged by the last
few break times she had decided to try and get to know him a little better. Finding
a topic he didn’t immediately explode over was difficult, and whenever she did
his responses were either venomous quips or amounted to Neolithic grunts.

They were sharing a textbook, attempting to translate sentences such
as
J’ai un stylo rouge
and
Où est la piscine, s’il vous plaît?
when
Lancelot finally asked her something without being prompted. Taken aback,
Gwenhwyfar had to ask him to repeat it.

He huffed at her. ‘I said, how did you become friends with Gavin and Vi?’

She wasn’t certain if this was curiosity, or a jibe. ‘I don’t know
really,’ she admitted. ‘It just sort of happened.’

‘Was it after that party?’ Lancelot enquired, staring intently at his
exercise book.

Nodding, Gwenhwyfar abandoned her pen. ‘They helped me fend off
Hector.’ Maybe he just took longer than the average person to adjust, she
mused. She studied his profile, suddenly noticing the rich chestnut spun
throughout his curling hair. Her prolonged gazes were becoming an unconscious
habit. ‘I’m sorry if you think I’ve hijacked all your friends while you were
gone or something, but it really wasn’t like that. They’re just nice people.’ She
had been expecting a snarl, but instead he shrugged. ‘So how long have you
known them?’

‘I’ve known Gavin since primary school. He wants me to join the Royal
Marines with him when we graduate.’

‘Really?’ She was surprised to think Gavin would be interested in
such a path, and the idea of Lancelot obeying any rules seemed far-fetched.
‘Don’t you want to go to university?’

‘Not everyone can afford to go,’ he snapped, his shoulders hunching.
‘Though I suppose you can. You look like you’ve got rich parents.’

He’d fired it out like it was an insult. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you look like you’ve got rich parents,’ he repeated, his dark
eyebrows knotting.

‘They’re not
that
rich,’
she objected, suddenly feeling as if she had to apologise.

He snorted again. ‘You have to be rich to have ended up hanging out
with Emily and Charlotte. They’re like metal detectors.’

‘Don’t be such a snob.’ She picked up her pen to resume the
translating activity.

‘I’m not a snob,’ he disagreed. ‘Only rich people can be snobs.’

‘Is that why you’re so grouchy all the time? Because you’re not a
snob and you don’t have rich parents?’

The space around him seemed to darken, and lightning sparked through
his eyes. Sensing she’d gone too far, Gwenhwyfar found she couldn’t correct
herself because she didn’t know how. She waited for the onslaught, but none
came. For a while she enjoyed Lancelot’s silence, but eventually the tension
buzzing within him was just too taut to ignore.

‘Sorry,’ was her eventual attempt, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘I’m not upset.’

‘Even so, I’m still sorry,’ she pursued.

‘So what?’ Lancelot scribbled in each rectangle in the margin of his
exercise book. His hiss was enough to convince her to leave it, so she resumed
her schoolwork. She moved on to something more challenging, French poems they
weren’t supposed to be examining until next year. The final word of one
sentence eluded her. As Lancelot sat brooding beside her, she repeated it in
her head methodically.