Page 98 of These Old Lies

They opened the door of their room to a flat full of the sounds, smells, and activity of a Saturday morning. Betty was in the kitchen, assembling a kind of English fry-up, while Frank and Ellie bickered about some radio programme.

“Wondered when we would be seeing you two. Frank said Ned worked late last night.” Betty smiled up at Charlie as he laid a kiss on her brow, taking the toast from her.

Ned leaned against the counter and enjoyed the moment, simply watching the people he cared about most being together. Betty and the children had stayed in Ned’s flat when Charlie had left for the NCC, an arrangement that suited everyone far better than Ned could have ever dreamed.

Ellie looked up at him from her scrambled eggs and spam. “You and Dad look fancy.”

Smiling in thanks to Betty as she passed him a mug of tea, Ned answered, “We’re going to Oxford today.”

Ned bit down on his dry toast, wanting to leave the small amount of butter for Frank and Ellie. He had no desire to replace either parent, but getting to be an uncle, to share in their delights and encourage them, was a special pleasure. He was eager to see the adults both children would become.

He saw a flinch on Charlie’s face as they chatted. He would never admit it, but Ned knew that Charlie’s wish would have been for his children to share in their joy. Ned couldn’t offer Charlie comfort with anything more than a look, so he turned brightly to Frank and Ellie and instead asked, “Do you want to know the story of how your father won the medal with red and blue stripes?”

Ned grabbed another piece of butter-less toast and shared with Charlie’s family the story of a hatmaker’s son who had single-handedly saved three fellow soldiers as a stretcher bearer.

???

Charlie

Ned had insisted on paying for first-class train tickets, the fool. It was only a few hours to Oxford, no reason to sit in fancier seats for the sake of it.

But it was Ned’s first time getting married, and Charlie intended it to be Ned’s only time, so Charlie was inclined to indulge him. He had even agreed to the chapel and some pomp, even if visible only to themselves.

As they were getting ready, Charlie admitted to himself that he was pleased they had made the effort. Ned dressed to the nines was always worth it, and Charlie liked seeing himself dressed properly too, a man worthy of Ned.

Charlie knew that Oxford was a special place for Ned. There were prints of the city all over the flat, and he spoke frequently about his time at university. There was an extra skip in Ned’s steps the moment they left the train station. Charlie, on the other hand, felt like he had the word ‘outsider’ stamped on his face. He had come up to Oxford only once to see some Morris Motors cars, but the automotive manufacturing company was on theoutskirts of town. He had never wandered through the heart of the university before.

They could have taken a cab to Ned’s college, but Ned had wanted to walk. He excitedly pointed out various haunts of his youth. The Oxford Union, the Turf Tavern, the Bodleian Library.

As they walked up Cornmarket Street, one market stall caught Charlie’s eye. He stopped and quickly bartered with the florist. Charlie returned to Ned with a pale English rose and some blue forget-me-nots.

“We need flowers,” Charlie said gruffly, pinning the rose to Ned, which had been cut as a boutonniere. Ned blinked rapidly as he pinned the little blue flowers to Charlie’s lapel.

They arrived at an ancient porter’s lodge, and Ned went in with a letter to sort out whatever had been arranged. Charlie stood in the quadrangle of the college, respecting the neat signs not to walk on the grass. Ned had explained to him the differences between the colleges, and the specific advantageous features of his own, but it had gone over Charlie’s head. He suspected it was something like football allegiances—impenetrable to those on the outside.

He absent-mindedly played with his wedding ring. His father had never worn a ring, but Betty had wanted one for each of them, so he had paid out the pounds for the gold band. He vividly remembered picking out Betty’s engagement ring, wanting to get her something special but feeling like he was grasping at straws when it came to finding the one that would suit her. In the end he went with a small diamond in gold that she still wore, but when she needed comfort, she would reach for Henderson’s engagement ring that she wore on a chain around her neck. For a long time, Charlie had been hugely envious of that ring and chain. Not of Henderson, but that Betty had such a personal token of her lost love. He’d had nothing of Ned.

His hands had trembled so badly when he married Betty, he almost didn’t get the ring on her finger. He had been terrified of what he was promising to her, that he wouldn’t be worthy of her or up to the task of marriage. He had half expected a similar fit of nerves this morning, but instead he had only felt quiet excitement. His soul had already been committed to this man.

Ned walked out of the porter’s lodge, massive key in hand, and strode toward Charlie. He always moved like a man with a purpose.

“Apologies,” he said when he reached Charlie, “there was a bit of a backand forth to get my letter with the master acknowledged, but I got the key in the end.”

Ned turned towards a stone arch, and they walked side by side, the heels of their freshly polished shoes tapping against the hard stone. After three or four turns, Ned stopped in front of a massive wooden door and inserted the key into an equally ornate lock.

The door creaked open and Ned held it with a grand flourish. “Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean you get to open doors for me,” Charlie grumbled as Ned locked the door behind them. The cool air of the chapel made Charlie shiver.

For the first time since they had left their bedroom, they were properly alone. Ned took Charlie’s hand and dropped every mask, leaving only love and excitement written plainly across his face. “We have the place to ourselves for an hour.”

“Anything we should be worried about?”

Ned leaned over to kiss Charlie, chaste but not short. “Not at this time of day.”

While a church would never bless their vows, and Ned wasn’t a publicly religious man, Charlie knew that exchanging their vows in a church was important for Ned. And of course his fancy, aristocratic lover would be most at ease in a place that looked like a miniature version of Westminster Cathedral. The nave was decorated from floor to ceiling in rows of stone statues, and the sides were lined with three rows of pews in old, worn oak. The stained-glass windows above the pews cast rainbows of colour haphazardly around the space. “You had to be a high church Anglican, didn’t you?”

Ned sniffed. “I like my religion appropriately done up.” Looking towards the large stone altar, Ned swallowed, as if the magnitude of what they were about to do had only just dawned on him. “I guess we should get on with it then?”

In front of the altar there were benches for prayers, and Ned and Charlie pulled them together.