Page 69 of These Old Lies
The wind blew and the leaves of the tree above them cast shadowed patterns across Ned’s face, making him look delicate, accenting his long eyelashes, drawing extra focus to the pink in his lips.
Age was supposed to make people less attractive, dammit. And Ned’s attractiveness wasn’t something Charlie was supposed to be noticing.
“You weren’t angry at him for joining the other side?”
Charlie had never hated the Germans, nor had he seen the war as some sort of fundamental struggle. But still, Ned had been an officer.
“What for? Every man had to do his duty. I couldn’t fault Albert for going to fight for Kaiser Wilhelm any more than he could fault me for fighting for King George. Glad I never ran into him in No Man’s Land, though. He was my first kiss, and I, his. It would have been very awkward.”
“I’m sure the officers’ handbook would have a procedure,” Charlie said.
The affectionate way that Ned spoke of his dead lover made Charlie’s stomach twist. He could all too easily picture a German princeling making a youthful Ned swoon.
Ned's voice was soft, just loud enough for Charlie to hear, even though they were completely alone. “Albert was always very big on duty. He was the only son of an only son with an obligation to carry on the family name, to bring it to greatness. I remember one end of term dinner, we got drunk on cheap wine and he stood up in the middle of the hall and swore that he was going to make the most of his wild oats in Oxford, spending the rest of his life enjoying the memories.” Ned gently ran his fingers over the cross. “I always found that comforting, knowing he hadn’t walked onto that battlefield with regrets.”
Ned looked up to lock eyes with Charlie. “I was worried, you know, that you or I would have them.”
Charlie completed the thought. “That’s not the case.”
“I wouldn’t compare my career to your family, but what I do has meaning. It’s maybe not the revolution I argued for, but I nudge the government in a direction that helps people no matter what class they were born to.” Ned made a wry smile. “Plus, I have been bloody fortunate to have a salary these past few years. Father had a fair bit invested in the stock market.” Ned’s tone was so neutral that Charlie missed at first the implication of what he was saying. “The crash didn’t leave Mother and Father penniless, but there won’t be much left when they are gone. And before you say it, I helped create those inheritance taxes, and I know why I should be paying them.”
“Congratulations on joining your fairer society.” Charlie reached over and gave Ned a sarcastic pat on the back. “I don’t have regrets either. It took a while, but the shop has regular business now. Frank, Ellie—they make it all worthwhile. I remember when Frank was born, Betty and I would spend hours watching him sleep in his cradle. We were in awe of this miracle we made.”
“You and Betty are well, then?” Charlie couldn’t tell if he imagined the tension in Ned’s eyes as he asked the question.
“She’s a wonderful mother. A godsend with the shop. I think she might like motors and engines better than I do.”
It was not really an answer to the question Ned asked. Charlie almostwished Ned would call him on it.
He didn’t. “It sounds like you have everything you wanted.”
The soft summer breeze blew across Charlie’s face. With the sharp grass beneath his hands and birds chirping in the trees he could be sitting in a park, except for the hundreds of graves around him.
Charlie closed his eyes to the sun and listened to the birdsong.
24 An Education
London, June 1941 / Ned
Ned shook the rain off his trench coat as he turned the door’s handle into his flat. It had been another gruelling day at the office, full of annoying machinations for power between men who should have known better. All he wanted to do now was to put on his fanciest dressing gown and collapse into the nearest armchair.
“Evening, Ned.” He turned around to find Betty headed towards the door, her working day only about to begin.
He and Betty often went days without seeing each other, so, despite his exhaustion, Ned plastered on a smile and made an effort to be social. “Hope you are surviving the night shift well.”
“Did the night shift in the last war. Didn’t sleep through the night for years when the children were little. Doesn’t matter much anymore.”
Sleep was for those of weaker stuff than Betty Villiers, apparently.
“Hopefully you can have a bit of a lie-in on Sunday,” Ned tried again.
“Hardly likely with the children banging about and Sunday lunch to make,” Betty answered as she pulled on her coat, and then continued, “All’s well with Charlie, then?”
Ned nearly swallowed his tongue at the blunt casualness of the question. Charlie had been clear that Betty had no problem with their affair, but still, he hadn’t expected her to tackle that elephant in the room.
“Stop looking at me like that, it makes you look ten years older than you are.” Betty’s expression reminded him of a headmaster berating a particularly stupid schoolboy. Coat affixed, Betty uncharacteristically turned to fuss with her hair in the hall mirror. “Charlie is happy. He deserves that.”
“Yes.” Ned cleared his throat. Was that the right thing to say? Oh God. But if Betty could be blunt, so could he. “To answer your question, we’re well. Even if I do end up freezing to death in the middle of the night because he took all the covers.”