Only he knew he wasn’t being heckled. It was in his mind. Noah was like a ghost haunting him, and only the two of them knew what his absence meant. They shared it across miles, a missing link. Nobody else needed to know that a small part of Quinn was empty without Noah marching alongside him, showing his support.
Shaking Noah off, Quinn led the chants as they walked up a street known as The Pavement, trying not to slip on the snow, and back onto Castle Street. The castle, now open, shone at them, a Christmas tree visible through the open doors.
As they gathered outside the entrance, Ivy held a megaphone and cleared her throat, which made the people nearby cover their ears.
‘We stand outside Hay Castle, the jewel in Hay’s crown, the royal palace of the monarchy that never was, celebrating that a historic place is open once more to the public.’ Her voice stopped those who were entering the castle. From the castle doors, Quinn saw his stepdad run out. Even from a distance, he could see the anger on his face. His stomach plummeted, but he stood a little taller, refusing to be intimidated.
‘Keep Hay gay!’ the audience chanted, their eyes on the castle.
‘In 1977, Richard Booth declared Hay-on-Wye an independent kingdom, calling himself the king. He was the man responsible for turning this town that we see before us into the town of books. He enjoyed the castle before it fell into disrepair, using it as his royal residence, much to the pleasure of those living here.’ Ivy turned away from the crowd and looked up at the castle. ‘It’s because of Richard, with his insight and flat-out flair, that we could open shops of many shapes and sizes without the need to compete against one another. It gave Gerald Oxford the confidence to open his own bookshop.’
At the mention of his father, Quinn looked to the floor. He hadn’t known Ivy was going to make a speech, and now he let those overwhelming tears flow at the thought of his dad. Claire placed an arm around him, and he hugged his mother back.
‘Without that confidence, that guidance, that experience, Kings & Queens wouldn’t exist today. By opening Kings & Queens, Quinn Oxford brought Hay into the twenty-first century. He spotted a way to not only sell books and nurture a community, but to help a community that is underrepresented. A community that needed a safe place where they could be themselves, find support, and discover who they were. It’s telling that Hay’s only queer business is facing closure.’
At that, the audience booed toward Harold. A few people heading towards the castle started retreating.
‘We’re here today to make sure that this isn’t the final chapter of Kings & Queens. We want to make it known to developers, to businessmen, to people who don’t realise the importance of a bookshop like this, that they can’t just toss people aside when they feel like it. If there was a legitimate reason to end Quinn’s tenancy, we may begrudge such an act, but we would have no choice. But this is pure greed. This is power at play. This is breaking apart the family.’
Ivy’s voice, full of passion and the right amount of anger, stirred the crowd. People who hadn’t been on their march joined in the protest, while others shook their heads in a very British manner.
‘When Richard Booth transformed this town, he made history. Let’s make herstory today!’ She said this to the two cameras pointing at her, one for the paper, and one for national news. She performed spectacularly, and Quinn led the round of applause, beaming, his chest raised. Every part of him wanted to reach for Ivy and hug her tight. He looked around at the crowd, his smile getting wider, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
‘Are you ready for this?’ Claire asked.
‘Ready.’
‘To the castle!’ Claire called.
‘To the castle!’ Ivy bellowed over the megaphone.
This battle cry was enough to strike fear into Harold, who ran down the refurbished stone steps, his eyes wide, his face red. But there was no time for him to stop the crowd getting into the grounds, climbing the steps and meeting him halfway. They were an army coming to conquer.
Harold glared at everyone, but then his eyes found Quinn. ‘What the bloody hell?—’
He stopped. His mouth hung open like he was Jacob Marley.
Claire didn’t shy away from her partner. Instead, she walked up to him, apparently used to the anger that he was displaying. ‘I had to.’
‘You joined the protest?’
‘I did.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you can’t do this,’ Claire said. A hush fell over the crowd, and Blair made his camerawoman stop filming. ‘I’ve had enough of you not listening to me. I’ve been telling you for weeks this was wrong. I’ve made it clear how Quinn has been feeling. You ignored me.’
‘It’s my place!’ Harold boomed, pointing to the snow-capped rooftop of Kings & Queens. ‘I am within my right to get my place back.’
‘Keep Hay gay!’ Penny chanted.
‘Keep Hay gay!’
Harold looked at the crowd, blinked, then turned back to Claire.
‘I know you’re within your rights,’ Claire said. ‘But that doesn’t make you right.’
‘Yes, sister.’ Ebeneezer clicked her fingers.
