Harriette, love John

The circumstances which brought these best friends together are extraordinary. When Harriette Lawrence, Jonathon Parker, Rosanna Stephens, Florence Vitzhoven-Ellis, Rowland Carrington and Henry Thomas meet on a wet Tuesday afternoon in the Psychiatric Surgery of Dr Lawrence, Harriette’s Father, they have no idea of the good times and the not so good times they will have together as a six for the next thirteen years of their lives.
But there is a Judas among them, one of our super six is starting to show signs of going off the rails and does something drastic that will end lives as they know it. Now faced with this new situation the gang have to grow up much quicker than they ever imagined.


6. Rowland

The boy sat, waiting, he began kicking his legs backwards and forwards and backwards and forwards.

“Stop it,” his Father snarled smacking his son’s arm sharply. Rowland shrugged his arm away from being hit, his face turned into a deep scowl. He wanted to shout and scream just like he usually did but he didn’t think his Father would appreciate it.

They both sat next to each other in an interview room in Hill Gate Police Station, his son was in cuffs but the officers had removed them.

Rowland began humming a song, the theme tune from his favourite cartoon show.

“Rowland,” his Father snapped he nudged his son sharply.

“Sorry Father,” Rowland muttered.

“Shut it,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hear it,”

Rowland felt a pain, anger deep inside him. His Father was angry, he hated him and even his Mother wasn’t talking to him. She was in pieces at home, crying and drinking expensive wine. She hadn’t said anything to him, not directly to him at least. Well she had asked him what he had done time and time again.

“Lord Carrington,” a voice called. His Father stood up and walked towards the officer who had called his name.

“Yes, what is it?” Lord  Carrington asked desperately. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“We have come to an agreement with your legal team Sir,” the officer informed the Lord.

“Well,” he said. “Don’t leave me like this, tell me!”

“Sir, your son will be charged with arson and endangering lives,”

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

“It is a very serious charge, but because of his age and…” he paused. “And possible mental state he is going to be released without charge.”

“That’s it, we can go now?” he asked. Both thrilled and shocked at the ability of his legal team. Though he expected nothing less from them considering the amount he pays them each.

“Well,” the officer said pausing slightly. “We will need Rowland to have a psychiatric assessment,”

“A psychiatric assessment?” the Lord snorted. “My son is not a mental!”

“Yes Sir, of course, but we will need to have him checked over just to make sure he is not a danger,”

“A danger!” he exclaimed. “My boy is not a danger to anyone; he didn’t mean to hurt those people,”

“I know Sir,” The officer said. He looked at the Lord, it made him sick to have to suck up to him, his boy was out of control and yet no one would dare say to his face. Everyone had to tiptoe around them because he had a title and a bit of money kicking around to hire the best lawyers in the industry.

“Good, then we will be leaving here right now,” the Lord snarled. “Rowland,” his boy came and ran to his side. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“If you would like I can arrange for someone to take you home,” he said.

“No,” the Lord snapped. “Thank you, my car will be here to pick us up. I wouldn’t want a lift from one of your men. I am a Lord, I have a reputation to uphold, and people might start talking.”

A reputation, the officer wanted to exclaimed. His reputation went out of the window when the little brat started the fire at his grand an hour, expensive selective school that specialises in rising the next generation of bent snobs who run the country.  

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