Page 93 of These Old Lies

“I didn’t think you knew,” Betty spoke almost absent-mindedly, like when she was pondering a complex invoice. “When I married you, I knew I was marrying a good man. Ned told me so. I didn’t think you knew what it meant to be in love, though. That you would even want romance. I thought it didn’t matter that I’m not in love with you.”

She only said a truth he had always known. Still, to hear the words out loud pierced Charlie. This wasn’t the loss he was expecting when he’d started the conversation.

The defeat must have shown on his face because Betty put her hand to his face. “Oh, Charlie, I might not love you, but you are the best friend I’ve ever had. The last thing I’d want is to make you so unhappy. If what you are telling me is that you want an affair with Ned, well, I’d live with it.”

Charlie almost dropped his drink. “You can’t be serious!”

“Don’t be such a prude. Plenty of people have affairs. I mean, Mrs Gasby and the butcher boy…”

“And the neighbours gossip!”

Betty slammed down her glass, steely resolve in her eyes. “What kind of nonsense excuse is that? Half the street says I’m a harpy every time I sit in the driver’s seat of a car. Or that Frank and Ellie shouldn’t play with the Aberforths’ children, just because they have skin a different colour. These are the same people who told me I could only wear black after John died. Whendid my Charlie start caring about what the damn neighbours thought?”

As if Charlie needed more proof of why Betty was his dearest friend as well.

“I don’t think I could go after Ned.” He forced the words out, refusing to let himself hide from himself or Betty. “He’s got his own life now, and the risk of a scandal… well, he could lose everything.”

Ned also had George. He didn’t need working-class Charlie anymore.

Betty pursed her lips but didn’t argue.

“If you say so.” She cocked her head at Charlie. “Anyone else catching your fancy?”

Charlie violently shook his head. “No! That’s not what I want at all, I just wanted to tell you…”

“That you have a broken heart,” Betty finished his thought. Then she gripped his had tight. “But you promise me, Charlie Villiers, if you ever do get a chance to mend that heart, be it with Ned or someone else, man or woman, that you take it. Life is too damn short not to be happy.”

Betty stared right into his eyes. “John taught us both that.”

“I promise you.” Charlie met Betty’s stare and made that vow with all his heart. He doubted such a situation would come to pass, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little hope, look for a little joy.

Betty had taught him that.

32 Full Circle

London, March 1942

Charlie

Dusk was settling over the rubble of what had once been Charlie’s home and business. The London skies were vivid with streaks of pinks, reds, yellows, and oranges. Charlie let himself slump against one of the few interior walls still standing. With the familiar worn door frame beneath his hands, he could close his eyes and believe that the building was still there.

Once they had extracted what survived of their possessions, Betty, Frank, and Ellie hadn’t wanted to come back. They found the cadaver of the place they had once called home too morbid to see. Charlie, however, often returned to stand amongst the rubble whenever he needed a moment to clear his head. His whole life, this place had been both his anchor and the millstone around his neck. He still didn’t know how to feel now that it was gone.

A comforting outline of a round hat box pressed up against his leg reminded him that tonight’s visit to the shop was different.

The idea of making Ned a hat had come to him slowly. He hadn’t picked up his millinery tools in years. The design was the product of waking up beside Ned morning after morning and watching his long eyelashes flutter in sleep, of feeling Ned’s breathing slow and his shoulders relax the moment he lay down beside Charlie. The bone-deep peace Charlie felt at his side, unlocking an instinct Charlie hadn’t felt in years.

The hat had been both a torture and a joy to make, stretching Charlie’s abilities and almost falling apart multiple times. The final pieces had come together shortly after his objector trial. What creativity he needed to finishthe hat was unleashed knowing that he had found his place in the war effort.

Now, a week before Charlie was to leave for the NCC, it was time to give the finished product to Ned.

Charlie glanced towards the street through the shards of what had once been the shop’s exterior walls. He was impatient but not nervous. He knew what he needed to do.

Then he saw Ned striding down the street, tall and lean, wind blowing in his greying hair, catching the folds of his jacket and trousers. God, the man was stunning. Charlie didn’t understand why he wasn’t fighting off rivals for Ned’s affections night and day. How could anyone, man or woman, resist that elegance and confidence?

“Is everything alright?” Ned called out as he stepped over blackened, fallen beams. “You had me worried when Miss Forbes told me to meet you here.”

“Everything’s fine. No, actually, everything is better than fine.” Charlie let a grin spread across his face. Another man would have practised a speech, or at least written notes. He trusted the words would come as naturally as they always did when he opened his soul to Ned. “This is something I probably should have done years ago. Decades, even.”