Page 100 of These Old Lies
Ned
Both men needed a few minutes to pull themselves together after the ceremony. They slowly moved through the chapel, lingering at the college memorial, honouring students killed during the Great War. Ned knew so many names, men that would never get to experience the joy of growing old beside the person they loved. Moving by instinct, he removed his boutonniere and laid it beside the memorial.
He ran his fingers along Albert’s carved name. As a German, he wasn’t on the college’s ornate memorial, but on a smaller plaque to the side, ‘for those that fought for foreign powers.’
As they stepped into the sun, Ned turned to his husband and smiled. “Ready for lunch?”
His fingers twitched to reach for Charlie’s, but there would be time for that later. Now, they had a reservation for a table at an old coaching inn that had been a favourite when he was a student. A bottle of burgundy had already been put aside for them.
“Yes, but you aren’t the only one who organised plans for today.” Charlie was smug with delight.
“Oh really?” Ned couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.
“We are going to have photographs taken.”
“Photographs?”
“I want to be able to remember this day for the rest of our lives. To be able to look at a picture of you looking stunning whenever I want.” Charlie grazed his fingers across Ned’s. “George gave me a name, a man who can be trusted. The pictures won’t be obscene. Most people wouldn’t even recognise what they are.”
Ned smiled, his heart brimming. “It’s a beautiful plan.”
“I couldn’t let my husband not have a wedding present.”
Ned blushed. “I’ve never heard those words before.”
“And how does it feel?”
“Like it should have been the case all along, husband.”
Epilogue: 101 Votes to 16
Stevenage, July 1967 / Francis John Villiers
“Hurry, Will!” Frank called out to his youngest son, who was still pulling on his boots in the front entrance of their newly built brick house. The first drops of rain were already beginning to fall.
At seven, Will was still all elbows and knees, but he had the same mop of curly brown hair as his father and grandfather. Pulling up the zipper on his coat, he ran into the open passenger side of the car. “Why are we going to Granddad’s tonight? We only go on weekends.”
Frank turned on the windshield wipers against the rain and pulled the car out of the drive. “Something special is happening tonight.”
“Is Grandma back?” Will’s eyes lit up. He adored his grandmother, and as the youngest grandchild, he benefited from being royally spoiled.
Frank shook his head. His mother’s annual hiking trip to Scotland was not to be messed with. “No, not for another two weeks. Tonight it will just be Grandpa and Great-Uncle Ned.”
“Will they still have biscuits?” Will asked as Frank entered the motorway that would take them to North London.
“I don’t know. They aren’t very good cooks.”
Will nodded solemnly. “I’m glad that Great-Uncle Ned stays with Granddad. They help each other with things like cooking.”
Frank cleared his throat. “I’m glad they have each other, too.”
His parents and Uncle Ned had retired to a fine stone house in North London. That it had been taken as a given that Ned would live with Charlie and Betty was something the family never spoke about. Frank tightened his hands around the steering wheel. Or rather, they didn’t talk about it until tonight.
The rain was pouring down when they pulled into the drive, and he and Will had to run from the car to knock on the door. Ned opened it, towering over everyone as usual. His hair had long since gone white, but the same round glasses perched on his nose. “Francis! William! What an unexpected delight!”
“Great-Uncle Ned!” Will ran right into the arms of the imminent viscount.
“Is that Frank at the door?” Frank’s dad was slower getting into the hallway. The rain must have been making his arthritis worse. That his cane was once again abandoned by the door didn’t help.