Page 12 of The Lost Zone
“Here.” D glanced over her shoulder and then produced a choc ice from under her apron. “It wasn’t on the menu. I took it from the staff freezer for you,” she confided with a conspiratorial smile. He wasn’t in the mood for it, but he didn’t have the heart to decline the gift, so he took it with a whispered “thank you”. She beamed and scurried from the room.
He returned to the rec room and turned on the screen, searching for news of his father as he ate the choc ice, but there was only the usual spew of bad news and nothing about Noah.Maybe he’d died, and he’d missed it during his time locked up on Tyler’s island. An idea occurred to him, and he searched through the magazines looking for something – anything – about his father. News of a funeral, or him leaving hospital with Charles by his side, would surely have made one of the gossip rags, wouldn’t it?
He worked through the first pile of magazines and found what he was looking for, close to the bottom.
Hero’s Dad Goes Home! We visit Olympic hero Charles Lytton and his father, Noah, at their beautiful home in Kent.
There was a picture on the front cover of Charles and Noah in side-by-side wheelchairs. Charles was giving a full-wattage smile, but Noah still looked ill. Alex studied him closely. His face was lined, his hair greyer than he remembered, and he was thinner, too. The left side of his face was sagging as a result of his stroke, but he was alive.
The article was full of stupid inaccuracies. They called the house The Ridings and said his mother’s name was Iris. They reported Alex correctly, though – every single detail of his downfall was recounted with zealous glee, followed by a Q&A with Charles.
Q: How are you coping without your brother?
A: It’s hard, of course, but Alex knew he did wrong and had to pay for his crime. Dad and I are managing without him. We’re getting by.
This was accompanied by a picture of Charles with his thumbs up, smiling bravely.
Q: How is your father doing now?
A: He’s frail but improving every day.
Q: Do you think your brother’s actions caused your father’s stroke?
A: Dad had been under a lot of stress lately. I wouldn’t blame Alex for all of that, although he did cause Dad a lot of worry.
Alex felt a surge of anger at Charles for exposing the family yet again to the nosiness of the press. He threw the magazine against the wall, consumed by a wave of fury that quickly died away. Of course Charles had done the interview. Lytton AV hadn’t been doing well, and it was likely they needed the money. It wasn’t Charles’s fault the nation was so obsessed with the Lytton family that they’d pay to read every last detail about them.
Retrieving the magazine, he resumed reading. Turning a page, he felt a stab in his gut as he saw his mother’s smiling face. The article took great delight in recounting all the details of the accident, but Alex didn’t bother reading them. He was transfixed by her face, smiling out at him.
Supposing they threw out this magazine? He didn’t want this photo taken away from him. He hesitated, glancing around, but he was completely alone. C had mentioned something about “rules” but hadn’t specified what they were. Was Alex allowed personal items? Tyler hadn’t allowed it, but did the same rules apply here? He was keeping Solange’s photograph tucked away in the bathroom – why not add another to his collection?
His heart was beating fast as he tore the photo out of the magazine. He kept thinking some member of the alphabet staff would stride in and tear the picture away from him, but nothing happened. He also ripped out the photos of his brother and father, then folded the pictures carefully and put them in his pocket. Afterwards, he reassembled the magazine as best he could, trying to hide what he’d done, placing it in the middle of the pile where it was unlikely to be seen.
Finally, feeling like a guilty child, he hurried back to his dormitory.
He changed into the navy-blue pyjama bottoms and white tee-shirt that had been provided for him and slept peacefully for the first time in months.
A gently tolling bell woke him at 8a.m., and he took a shower, shaved, and returned to the dormitory to find Dr C waiting for him. C examined and weighed him, then rose to leave.
“Wait,” Alex said. “What should I do? I mean… am I supposed to be doing anything in particular? Serving anyone?”
C smiled. “No. As I said, your course won’t start for a while. Take the time to acclimatise and enjoy yourself. You might like to go for a walk in the grounds.”
“Alone? Unsupervised?” Alex asked in surprise.
“Why not?” C looked equally surprised.
“Because I’m a very expensive IS. I haven’t moved without my own set of guards for the past five months.”
“Well, it’s not like that here. Go out, get some fresh air, it’ll do you good. Now, I must be getting on.” C gave one of his cheery little waves and disappeared.
D brought him eggs on toast for breakfast, then slipped him a bar of chocolate from under her apron with another of those furtive little smiles. Alex smiled back, but she resisted all his attempts to engage her in conversation and quickly hurried away.
After he’d eaten, Alex decided to take C at his word and go exploring. He wandered down several corridors and peered into various rooms. Some turned out to be dormitories, identical to his own, while others were empty. He found a kitchen, sparkling clean and not in use, and a laundry room with a number of washing machines, dryers, ironing boards, and irons. Like the kitchen, it was in pristine condition but not in use. He wandered down various empty hallways until he reached the back of the house and came across a modern extension with entirelydifferent architecture – clearly the more recent addition to the building that B had told him about. The door was locked by a biokey; whatever, or whoever, was behind this door was clearly worth protecting.
Alex found his way back to the reception area and found B there, engrossed in something on her nanopad.
“Is it okay if I…” Alex waved at the front door.
