Dory's Avengers by Alison Jack Page A

them, no. They realise something's not right, but a lot of people are so scared to speak out now because they think they'll be next to vanish.’
    Gideon paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was flat and emotionless.
    â€˜Or sometimes they're involved in freak car accidents that leave them confined to a wheelchair for the rest of their lives.’
    â€˜You mean you, Gideon?’ said Louis, shocked. ‘Were you Sponsored then?’
    â€˜To begin with, yes. When the Scheme was taking off I had premises in Newcastle, training young people who showed an aptitude for gymnastics. Some were quite good, although none were your standard. Then in comes Sports Sponsorship and out goes freedom of choice. The strugglers were dropped, not by me but by the Sponsors, and of course this annoyed me straight away. I will teach anyone who has a love for the sport – they don't have to be the next Olympic gold medallist – and me being me I just couldn't keep my mouth shut on the subject.
    â€˜That's when the visits started. A representative of Sports Sponsorship, sometimes even David Foster himself, would call and talk in very reasonable tones about the need for total cooperation between the Sponsor and the Sponsor-endorsed, such as my little enterprise. The word ‘‘little’’ would feature a lot in relation to my work, a constant reminder of where I stood in the grand schemeof…well…the Scheme! Cooperation was for the mutual benefit of us all, and Foster or whichever minion he happened to send along would never fail to remind me that the futures of all my protégés were at stake if my endorsement were to be withdrawn. All the time the Sports Sponsorship Group's representative was talking to me, a couple of stereotypical heavies would be flexing their muscles behind him or her.
    â€˜Yet still I couldn't learn to keep my mouth shut, still I couldn't resist arguing every point made by the Group, until one day it was only the heavies who paid me a visit.
    â€˜It took me a month before I was able to come out of hospital. Every day, my benevolent Sports Sponsorship representative would come and visit me to remind me, ever so nicely, that I was benefitting from the finest health care thanks to Pro Spo's continued support for hospitals up and down the land. Naturally, Sports Sponsorship had no idea as to the identity of my attackers, but sometimes people did get a little upset with those, such as myself, who appeared to be critical of the Scheme. That I could readily have identified the attackers as the heavies I'd seen so often in my office was of no consequence to the Group, or to the Sponsor-endorsed authorities, so I soon resigned myself to the fact that no one was going to help me achieve justice for my attack.
    â€˜However, that's where I turned out to be wrong. David Foster, and it was always Foster by now such was my nuisance value, wasn't my only visitor in hospital. Another regular, timing his visits perfectly so as not to encounter Foster, was a young but already very famous footballer by the name of Elliot Farrell.’
    â€˜Abi's dad,’ said Louis, grinning.
    â€˜The very same. If Foster's visits were guaranteed to bring me down, Ell's had completely the opposite effect. We had so much in common: a love of sport, a rather offbeat senseof humour and, most pertinently, mistrust bordering on hatred for the Sponsorship Scheme. In no time at all, we became firm friends, and that was the way we remained until the day…’
    Gideon's voice trailed off for a few moments, then with a great effort he regained his composure.
    â€˜Until the day Elliot died.’
    â€˜Abi said she'd tell me about that one day,’ said Louis. ‘Or maybe you could tell me now?’
    â€˜I can tell you what I know, but it's more Abi's story to tell. Abi and Jessica's story. There's more to my story, though, if you've a mind to listen!’
    â€˜Yes, Gid,