Page 62 of These Old Lies
Charlie stepped back to look at his handiwork. Ned was no longer actively bleeding, and didn’t seem to have any serious injuries. “Still a damn stupid thing to have done.”
His breath hitched as he waited for what Ned would say next. Had he heard all of Pemberton’s ranting? Would he ask about Charlie’s field punishment?
Ned simply rolled his shoulders before saying, “I didn’t know you would be here!”
Ned extended his hand for Charlie to shake. Their palms were sweaty. Or maybe just Charlie’s.
“Andrew Matthews insisted I come.” Charlie’s answer felt limp. “That the memorial was in our honour and all.”
“He’s absolutely right. I had to help oversee the building of the damn thing, I should know. Think the gate turned out well enough, although if I never have to work with Edwin Lutyens again, it will still be a day too soon.”Ned spoke as if the construction of a massive memorial was just everyday business. Perhaps it was for him.
“He’s difficult?”
“Extraordinarily eccentric with an ego to match.”
“So you get on like a house on fire, then?” Charlie couldn’t help himself, not when Ned left himself open like that.
Ned chuckled and leaned back on his hands. “Did I really get into a pub fight in front of the whole Legion? How am I going to explain that to the Prime Minister?”
“Blame France.” Charlie shrugged. “Worked for the past thousand years of English history.”
Ned laughed again. Because it felt like the natural thing to do, Charlie sat down beside him on the fountain’s edge.
“There’s a lot of irony in that statement,” Ned said. “I was thinking just this morning how we all spent four years in this country and most of us never got to see more than mud and shell craters. Now we’re back…”
“For a battlefield memorial,” Charlie completed Ned’s thought.
“Seems like a wasted opportunity.” There was a wistfulness in Ned’s words.
Charlie knew all about those, which was probably why he let himself say what he did next. “You and I should go exploring tomorrow. For old times’ sake.”
“I’m supposed to have lunch with the mayor tomorrow afternoon, and then…” Ned didn’t sound like he was looking forward to any of it.
“I promise I’ll return you in time to attend the luncheon. Just a morning of fun.”
Charlie took a gamble that if he didn’t push too much, the temptation would be enough for Ned.
Ned stood up and pulled on his jacket, and Charlie realised with a startthat he remembered Ned would often fuss with his clothes when sorting through his thoughts.
Ned was adjusting his cuffs when he turned to Charlie and said, “Amiens Cathedral is supposed to be spectacular. Shall we meet there at nine tomorrow morning? I should have a motor available.”
Charlie decided not to examine the smug feeling of victory in his chest too closely.
22 Courage
London, June 1941 / Ned
Despite living on the fourth floor, in the two decades that Ned had owned his flat he had rarely taken the lift in his building, choosing instead to take the stairs at a decent pace, two at a time if he was feeling particularly athletic.
That was until he started bringing home groceries for a family of four that included a growing sixteen-year-old boy. He hadn’t thought it possible to buy this much food under rationing. Arms laden with vegetables, meat, butter and bread, Ned juggled his way into the lift, halting abruptly when he heard, “Hold the doors!”
Ned leaned against the lift’s door, desperately grasping at his bags as one of his more rotund neighbours hurried forward. Sweating, the man wheezed, “Good evening, Pinsent. Much obliged.”
Ned really should know his name. Hunter? Humphries? Better not risk it. “Evening,” he responded.
The lift shuddered off to its slow climb, and the man seemed to pull himself together. “You are the talk of the building, Pinsent. Such generosity to move in a whole family.”
“We all must do our part, mustn’t we?” Ned forced an awkward smile onto his face. He’d long suspected he was the favourite subject of gossip for some of his more elderly neighbours, but knowing that the Villierses were being talked about raised his hackles.