Free The Future King: Logres by M. L. Mackworth-Praed Page A

anyway?’ Gwenhwyfar accused.
    ‘I don’t. He’s obsessed with being part of Tom’s entourage, and Tom’s
too eager for one to tell him to get lost.’
    Slowly, Gwenhwyfar felt herself calm down.
    ‘You can’t go home like this. How about we get you cleaned up? Then
we can call your parents, go downstairs and show those bitches that their plan
failed.’
    Gwenhwyfar nodded, and Viola offered a serene smile. ‘Come on. The
bathroom’s this way. We’ll worry about Arthur later.’
    When Gwenhwyfar descended to the dwindling party, Emily, Hattie and
Charlotte had already gone, even though she was supposed to be spending the
night at the Rose household. Slowly, all evidence of the party was removed,
until at long last the only indicator of the alcohol consumed lingered in the final
few houseguests. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Gwenhwyfar stared down at
her mobile, wondering what excuse she would use when she called her parents. It
was past twelve and her father would be getting ready for bed.
    ‘You can still stay at mine,’ Viola offered again. ‘We can stop off
at the garage to get you a toothbrush.’
    ‘No, it’s all right.’ Gwenhwyfar attempted a smile. ‘I think I’d
rather just go home.’
    There was sudden shouting. A breathless boy ran hollering through the
house, his skin sweat-glazed, eyes wide.
    ‘Police!’ he yelled. ‘ Police !’
    The news brought an onslaught of wordless cries. Gwenhwyfar stood dumbstruck;
watching as Tom rapidly waved the dwindled few out through the back door.
    ‘Go, go! Hurry up!’ He pushed the next one across the threshold as
Viola blitzed the kitchen. A strong air freshener was fired around the premises
while windows were flung open. Sirens could be heard in the distance. Cheeks
were pinched and ice-cold water was rubbed into flushed faces. Someone stuffed
the last of the illicit substance into a bin liner and ran with it out into the
garden and beyond the back fence, the bag dripping as they went.
    ‘You should go, Gwen, before they get here,’ Viola advised. She
pushed two small spray-bottles into her hands. ‘Here. Use the pink one for your
mouth, the yellow one for your eyes. You don’t want your parents to know that
you were drinking.’
    ‘Thanks.’ The music was switched off, the litter cleared away. It was
almost like magic, seeing the evidence of the whole evening vanish before her
eyes.
    ‘I’m going to head off too. I’ll walk you,’ Gavin declared. Suddenly
he didn’t seem so intimidating. He was more like a large guard dog than
anything else: her guard dog. Abruptly she realised that there was an
unmistakable gentleness to his eyes. ‘We shouldn’t wait here.’
    ‘All right.’ She collected up her belongings. Her hands still
trembled when Viola handed her coat to her. ‘Thanks, for what you did.’
    Viola merely nodded. ‘See you Monday, Gwen. Don’t let any of this get
to you.’
    Soon Gwenhwyfar and Gavin were out in the cold, pulling on their
coats as they hurried down the garden, through the fence and along an alleyway
that led out onto the street. The sirens grew ever louder until, eventually,
they stopped. As they paced Gwenhwyfar searched for the new house phone on her
mobile. Gavin stood patiently to one side while she recounted some tale of not
feeling well, the excuse a migraine. Angrily she stabbed the disconnect button
with her thumb.
    ‘I have to meet him at Emily’s. How am I supposed to do that?’
    ‘He won’t pick you up here?’
    ‘No, he can’t. He thinks I’m at her house. And they still have my
bag. That’s if they haven’t burnt it already.’
    ‘Where does she live?’
    ‘High Ashbourne?’
    Gavin frowned. ‘I know it. That’s through patrol. When will he be
there?’
    ‘Fifteen minutes.’ She drew in a sharp breath of cool night air. It
expanded softly in her head. ‘How bad is it?’
    ‘They’ll stop us if they see us,’ Gavin said. ‘It’s after twelve. I
know how we can avoid it,