Page 14 of Crocodile Tears

“They do if they’re Floodites,” Alex retorted. “Dad’s a Floodite, and you know how they’re always banging on about how God sent the Rising as punishment for our many sins.”

“Oh.” Neil made a face.

“Yeah – and I don’t want this to be yet another way I’m a disappointment to him. Before Charles’s accident, at least he had one red-blooded, heterosexual son, but now he’s only got me to carry on the family line.”

“So, your brother can’t…?” Neil’s ruddy skin went bright pink. “I mean, I know he’s been in a wheelchair since the crash, but I didn’t know if, well, um…” Neil waved his hand to disperse the mouthful of smoke Alex had blown in his direction.

“Charles has a complete spinal cord injury,” Alex said flatly, stubbing out his cigarette on the dirty wooden table in front of them. “It’s not impossible, but it’s unlikely.”

“Is there a chance he’ll ever walk again?”

“Who knows?” Alex shrugged. “Repairing spinal cord injuries is kind of the holy grail of medical science precisely because it’s so hard. If the Rising hadn’t happened, I’m sure they’d have cracked it by now, but progress is slow. Charles has had some experimental therapies, but nothing has worked so far. We’re still hopeful, though.”

“He’s lucky that your family can afford the treatment. Most people can’t. Will he be there today?” Neil asked eagerly.

“Aw, you want to see the famous Olympic gold medallist – maybe get a selfie?” Alex mocked. “Oh, don’t look so embarrassed, Neil. Everyone always wants a selfie with the great Charles Lytton, and yes, he’ll be there.”

“I can still remember where I was when he won that gold medal.” Neil’s eyes shone. “It was such a great moment, with so much meaning. I mean, there were no Olympics for years because of the Rising, and then no gold medals for the UK for more years after the Games started again. Then Charles comes along and finally we’re winning again.”

“Yup. He’s a regular national hero all right,” Alex snapped.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Neil asked unexpectedly. “You’re close. I read that he doesn’t blame you for the accident. He says that you’re his little brother, and he still loves you very much, despite what happened.”

“Yeah. Well.” Alex stuck his hands into his pockets and gazed at the floor. “The press do get some stuff right.”

“This feels like the first real conversation we’ve had,” Neil said, fiddling with the ID tag he wore on a plain leather thong on his wrist. “I wish we could be friends. Yes, your father hired me to keep an eye on you, but we’ll be sharing a flat for the next three years, and I could be a good friend to you, I really could. I know I’m not the kind of person someone like you would normally be friends with – I’m not rich, or glamorous, or good-looking, or even particularly interesting. But I’m loyal – more loyal than you think,” he added meaningfully.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you should know that I speak to your father every week to tell him how you’re getting on.”

Alex hunched his shoulders. “I suspected as much.”

“And there honestly wasn’t much to report at first – then, for this past week, you’ve been all over the place.”

“Yeah, well, the press hung around town for my first few weeks at Oxford, trying to get shots of me disgracing myself, so I had to keep my nose clean until they got bored and went away.”

“Why couldn’t you keep it that way? Why run the risk of a story breaking about you taking drugs, or falling out of clubs drunk, or sleeping with everything that moves?”

Alex laughed. “Hello! Where have you been this past year – hiding under a rock? Haven’t you read the news? Alex Lytton is a giant fuck-up. One big, self-destructing disaster zone. Everyone agrees on that. What does it matter to you, anyway?”

“Because, regardless of what you think, I’m not your enemy. I’d like to help.”

Alex snorted. “How the hell can you help me?”

Neil took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “By not telling your father what you get up to – about the boys and the croc.”

“You’d lie to my father for me?” He took off his sunglasses in surprise.

“Yes. I don’t see there’s any need for him to know about the croc, in particular. You and I both know that if he did, there’s a good chance he’d pull you out of Oxford.”

“And if I’m not at Oxford, then you’re not there, either?” he guessed.

Neil shook his head. “No, that’s not the case. My IS contract states that I can continue with my studies whatever the outcome of your own university career.”

“So, what’s in it for you?” Alex demanded? “Why the hell would you lie for me? Doesn’t it compromise your own position? I bet my father has a clause in your contract that it can be dissolved if you don’t uphold your side of the bargain – and then you’ll be liable to pay back all your tuition fees, plus interest.”

“That’s true.” Neil nodded.

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