Robin stared at his brother, and saw something alien. Little John wore slip-on loafers, well-fitted chinos and a Hugo Boss polo shirt. He had a seventy-pound haircut from Sherwood Castle’s spa and smelled like fancy macadamia-nut hair product. They’d only been apart for three days, but he seemed an entirely different person.
Little John stared at his brother and saw something alien too. Robin wore crusted army boots, grubby jeans with a ripped knee and a denim biker’s waistcoat. His matted hair was speckled with clumps of dried mud and he smelled of earth and sweat. They’d only been apart for three days, but he seemed an entirely different person.
‘We need to talk, Robin Hood,’ Marjorie said, stiff and businesslike. Then she snapped her fingers and pointed at Tybalt and Marion. ‘Get those two out of earshot.’
‘Unacceptable!’ Tybalt protested, as a burly guard stuck a gun in his face. ‘This is a clear violation of my client’s constitutional right to –’
The guard punched Tybalt in the nose and roared, ‘You speak when spoken to!’
Tybalt stumbled, but stayed on his feet by grabbing an information plinth.
‘If there is one thing I loathe, it’s a goodie-two-shoes lawyer,’ Marjorie said, shuddering with disgust, but changing to a more accommodating expression as she stepped closer to Robin.
‘I found out something big,’ Little John told Robin, as he stood beside Marjorie. ‘Really big …’
Robin took a deep breath. ‘She’s your mum,’ he said stiffly.
John looked shocked. ‘You knew?’
‘Suspected,’ Robin said. ‘Marjorie and Dad were tight. You look like her. You’re both enormous, and you walking in beside her dressed like a golfer confirmed it.’
‘I’m safe,’ Little John said. ‘You’re in massive danger, but my mum has agreed to help you.’
Robin tutted. ‘Hand me to her pal Gisborne, more likely.’
Marjorie wasn’t used to people showing disrespect to her face. She flashed with anger, but kept calm.
‘As far as I’m concerned, Robin Hood can sleep in the forest when there’s two feet of snow on the ground,’ the Sheriff admitted bluntly. ‘He can drown in autumn floods, or get hung upside down next to Guy Gisborne’s collection of antique whips. But I do care about John, and he won’t be happy if I make no effort to help you.’
This weird and unexpected situation made Robin’s brain fire random thoughts that didn’t join up. He buried his hands in his pockets and couldn’t decide where to look.
‘You can’t live on the run forever, bro,’ Little John said. ‘I know you’re fast and smart. But you can escape a thousand times, Gisborne only needs to catch you once.’
Robin saw the logic, but it still didn’t sit right. ‘So I get to live with you at the castle and dress like an accountant on vacation?’
‘These clothes are from the golf shop in Sherwood Castle,’ John said irritably. ‘I’m getting a chopper into Nottingham to buy stuff I like.’
‘You ride choppers now, do you?’ Robin laughed. ‘Dad would be real proud of your new lifestyle.’
‘What, Dad’s a saint now?’ Little John asked. ‘We went to school with patched-up trousers, ate tinned chilli and wonky carrots for tea. And you complained about it as much as I did.’
‘If stuff is all you care about, I’m sure your new mummy will make you happy,’ Robin fumed.
‘Why are you hating on me?’ Little John asked. ‘I stuck my neck out to help you.’
‘Quiet, both of you,’ Marjorie snapped, as she stepped between the glowering brothers.
‘Now …’ she began, through gritted teeth, ‘to answer Robin’s question. He can’t live at the castle. Gisborne will understand me protecting my own son, but Robin shot Gisborne and he won’t stomach me protecting you too. So this is my offer:
‘I’ll arrange for new identity documents under a false name. I’ll find somewhere out of town for you to stay over summer. When the new school year starts, you’ll be enrolled in a decent boarding school. I’ll pay your fees, and give you a reasonable allowance. You’ll have to steer well clear of Locksley, but the two of you can meet up elsewhere and do brother stuff during school holidays.’
Robin nodded slowly while his brain did somersaults.
‘If Gisborne catches you, he’ll whip you, then kill you,’ Little John said pleadingly. ‘My mum is the only person powerful enough to protect you. This is your only chance to live a normal life.’
‘What if I don’t accept?’ Robin asked, trying to sound reasonable.
Marjorie aimed a hand towards the door. ‘I have no beef with you, Robin. You can walk away, but my offer of protection expires when I leave this room. If Gisborne catches you, that’s your problem. If Rangers arrest you, that’s your problem. If you get sick and need a hospital, that’s your problem.’
‘Don’t be like Dad,’ Little John begged. ‘Swallow your pride and take what’s on offer.’
Robin felt boiling hot, with sweat streaking down his neck and a lump in his throat.
He was afraid of Gisborne, and this was probably the only way he could ever be safe. He reckoned he could tolerate the new name and the boarding school, but the idea of accepting Marjorie’s offer didn’t feel right and his brain was in tangles until the reason finally snapped into focus:
Sheriff Marjorie is a terrible person.
She’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants, and she admits she doesn’t care about me … If I accept the offer, she’ll own me. Go to a school she picks. Spend holidays with people she picks. If I get in trouble, I answer to her. If I want anything, I have to ask her.
The idea of going back to the mall with Marion and seeing people like Indio and Will made Robin feel good. Being in a strange place where he didn’t know a soul and Sheriff Marjorie pulled all the strings felt like a black hole.
‘Thanks for thinking up a plan to help me,’ Robin told Marjorie. ‘But my answer is no.’
Marjorie seemed relieved, because looking after any kid is a pain and she’d saved six years of boarding-school fees. But Little John looked furious.
‘See you at your funeral, dumbass,’ he growled, then shook his head as he followed his mum outside.