Any Day

by Brian Lancaster

  Adrian appeared to be struggling over something Leonard already knew. But to tell him he knew might give the impression he listened to idle gossip. Instead, he leant forwards, placing his elbows on the table. To lighten the mood he reached over, snatched a chip from Adrian’s plate and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

  “Seriously? That’s what’s worrying you?”

  “Some guys can get funny when I tell them. And I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

  “Do you take me for one of those narrow-minded idiots, Ade? It’s cool. Look, unless you’re about to confess to having a psychological condition that involves you sleepwalking and murdering roommates in their sleep, then we’re good.”

  Adrian smiled with relief before narrowing his eyes at Leonard’s hand.

  “Fair warning, though. You pinch any more chips off my plate and you might want to consider sleeping with one eye open tonight. Just saying.”

  Leonard laughed aloud. Seeing the tension drain from Adrian’s shoulders, he almost let on about his own orientation. Surely that would be for the best all round so they could loosen up around each other? Then again, maybe coming clean might make sharing the room even more uncomfortable. Adrian had, after all, called him a ‘straight friend’, so he had no idea about Leonard being gay. What also didn’t help was the intense attraction he had developed for Adrian. Even if he hadn’t shown anything knowingly, Adrian would surely guess by the little tells he couldn’t help making, staring at Adrian’s chest, or freckles, or his thick muscular arms and thighs. If he came clean all that might change and make this situation even more awkward, especially if he wasn’t Adrian’s type. More importantly, he had invited Adrian along in his professional capacity, to survey the farmhouse and give him an expert opinion, not to be his bedmate.

  Besides, if anything between them were to happen, it would be doomed from the start. Adrian lived and worked in Drayton, Leonard in London. Maybe the physical distance didn’t matter, but Leonard knew himself well enough to know he could never survive on a diet of daily telephone calls and text messages and the occasional weekend hook-up. Moreover, Leonard had never been a casual, one-night stand guy. Kris had been his first and only lover. If he decided to jump, he did so with both feet the whole way and expected a partner to do the same—no half measures.

  “Are you okay, Lenny? I thought I’d lost you there for a moment. Having second thoughts?”

  Leonard, who hadn’t realised he’d zoned out, lost in thought, stared up into Adrian’s eyes.

  “No, but… Have I just been a complete knobhead? Did you want your own room because you’re looking to get lucky over the next few days? I was, and still am, totally fine with sharing, but I didn’t even consult you when I said yes, which is wrong of me. I hate to think I’ve just pissed on your—”

  This time Adrian burst into laughter.

  “What?” asked Leonard.

  “You haven’t pissed on anything. Genuinely, Lenny, my concern was for you. But if you’re fine then let’s leave it there. You can use your earplugs, and I promise I won’t murder you as long as you don’t touch any more of my chips. Are we okay?”

  “We are. But remind me to consult you in future. I tend to travel on my own, so I usually jump in and make snap decisions. Okay, so back to business. Can I suggest an early start tomorrow? Are you okay to get up at seven-thirty?”

  “Not a problem. And I’m happy to navigate again if you want. Do you have that picture of the place we’re trying to find?”

  From his jacket pocket, Leonard pulled the envelope given to him by Mr Dawson and pulled out the copy of the photograph handing it to Adrian.

  “I have no idea how long ago that was taken.”

  “Have you checked whether the place exists on GPS? Or are we going to be playing this by ear?”

  Right then, the landlady came to their table to collect their plates and Leonard used the opportunity to talk to her.

  “Mrs Llewellyn. We’re going to take the room. But can we have a quick word? Just need some information about the local area.”

  “Of course, dear. Be my pleasure. Not exactly rushed off our feet tonight. And you can call me Megan, if you prefer. Whenever I hear someone calling for Mrs Llewellyn, I expect to see the in-laws coming around the corner to scold me.”

  Leonard pulled out a chair for her to sit. First off all, she took the dirty plates away and dropped them off at the bar before returning.

  “So a quick question,” said Leonard as she took a seat. “How well do you know the area?”

  “How well do I—?” she began, with a chuckle. “Better than most alive, I’d say. I’ve lived here in this pub with my folks all my life, at least up until I married. Twenty-five I was. Went to live with Roger’s folks in Vancouver running his family’s hotel until they sold up. Then we decided to come back and take over this place because my mum and dad wanted to retire. Been running the place ever since. So yes, I know the area very well, and most of the people who live here. What do you need to know?”

  “I’ve inherited a house down this way.” Leonard nodded to the photograph in Adrian’s hands, and he placed the sheet on the table. “A farmhouse called Bryn Bach in—”

  Leonard noticed the slight surprise in Mrs Llewellyn’s eyes as she finished his sentence.

  “Bryn Bach in Disserth? Yes, I know the place well. The owners—previous owners now, I suppose—used to come up from Bristol every summer. Sometimes at Easter, too. Mike and Millicent Darlington. Had three young-uns, one older boy and a twin boy and girl. They relatives of yours?”

  “Mrs Darlington is my aunt, my late father’s sister. After my grandfather died—he was the rightful owner—he left the house to my father, and Dad left it to me. We’re going to look the place over tomorrow, so if you can help point us in the right direction, that would be really helpful.”

  Mrs Llewellyn got up, waddled to the bar and brought back a small tourist map.

  “Good job you asked. The place is a nuisance to find unless you know what you’re looking for.”

  “We’ve got GPS,” said Adrian, holding up his phone. Mrs Llewellyn glanced at the phone and snorted.

  “Good luck with that, dear. You’ll be lucky to get a phone signal down that way, let alone directions. Look, I’ll write you out the route with landmarks. That should get you close enough. It’s the only house on the lane so once you find that, your there.”

  As she wrote on the map and marked a few prominent spots along the way, she also talked about the Darlingtons.

  “Loved this part of the world, they did. If not for the husband’s sales job back in Bristol—they often came here without him because he was so busy—I think they might have thought about settling here. Every Sunday, they’d go to church and end up in here in the pub afterwards for a roast lunch. Her eldest came here a couple of times on his own. Loved the place, he did. Such a shame what happened to him.”

  “What did happen?”

  “You don’t know? Maybe it’s not my place—”

  “My mother said he took his own life, but she didn’t know any details. Mainly because my father and his sister—my aunt—didn’t get along. So I know very little about any of my cousins. I only met her and my cousin Matthew for the first time at the funeral for my father.”

  “Did you know your grandfather?”

  “Grandpa George? Yes, I met him when we were kids. Not often, because we lived so far away. I think Dad felt guilty after Grandma passed away. So we’d go see him at least a couple of times a year.”

  “George and Rene Day. Yes, they used to own the house in Disserth. My mum used to talk about them. So your dad would have been Colin?”

  “That’s right.”

  Leonard realised Mrs Llewellyn, rather than being curious, was testing him, to make sure she had the right person.

  “Your cousin, Luke, hanged himself. His father and brother Matthew found him. Terrible business. Twenty something years old, bright as a new star and everythin
g to live for. Came as a huge shock to all of them, as you can imagine. Not much happens around here, so the incident touched everyone.”

  The same oddly detached grief he had experienced when his mother first told him rippled through Leonard again. Luke, his own flesh and blood, would probably have been less than ten years older than him. And something had driven him to take his own life. As a child he had always believed he came from an unremarkable family. Yet something terrible had happened to his cousin to make him end his life. While he grappled with the notion, he barely heard Adrian ask a question.

  “Did he leave a note or anything?”

  “Of sorts, according to his father. A piece of paper with a few words written in Luke’s hand. Taken from the Bible, we think.” She recited them slowly and solemnly. “Funny the things we remember, isn’t it?”

  Leonard felt a deep sadness. Clearly, the words had meant something to Luke.

  “Those words are not from the Bible,” said Adrian, surprising Leonard. “Although I can understand how you might think so. The line was penned by Wilfred Owen, one of the war poets. It’s from a poem called ‘At a Calvary Near the Ancre,’ in which he likens the battlefields of the Great War to the crucifixion of Christ. The last verse has those lines which, I believe, are about the soldiers in the Great War who selflessly laid down their lives.”

  “You’re a religious man?” asked Mrs Llewellyn, an eyebrow raised at Adrian.

  “Not so much. But my father was a minister, and I had an old friend I used to read to because of his failing eyesight. He loved the war poets. And even though I wouldn’t call myself a religious person, there are certain passages from the Bible that resonate—”

  “But why?” Leonard heard himself say. “Why did he do it?”

  Mrs Llewellyn’s attention returned to Leonard and she appeared genuinely moved.

  “Nobody knew, dear. To this day the whole thing’s a mystery. Last time I saw them all together was the year before I got married and moved abroad, and everyone seemed in good spirits, especially Luke, who would have been around fifteen. Of them all, he was the most friendly and charming. And a handsome lad, too. Whenever they came into town, many a young girl in the village only had eyes for him.”

  “Did he have friends here? Or did he mainly stick with the family?”

  “He had a couple of really close friends. Gang of Four, they called themselves. Good kids, too. Freya and Howie Williams, both older, and Pippa White, the youngest of the group. I got the impression Luke enjoyed time away from his family. Don’t get me wrong. His sister was fine—quiet, but polite—but the twin brother was an odd sort. Harmless enough, but…odd. Looking back, I think he probably suffered from an undiagnosed form of autism. And his mother could be overbearing if you know what I mean? The younger son stuck to her apron strings like a leech. Not sure I ever saw him smile.”

  To Leonard, that sounded exactly like the Matthew he had met.

  “After the ordeal,” continued Mrs Llewellyn, “they rarely came back to the house. Understandable really. Why would they want to stay in a house where their eldest had hanged himself from a bedroom light fitting.”

  “He killed himself in Bryn Bach?” asked Leonard, aghast. That part of the story had not registered.

  “Yes, dear. Didn’t I say? They hadn’t heard from him for two or three weeks, contacted everyone he knew locally and searched the places he used to visit out in Clifton. Eventually, the father and brother came down here and found him in one of the bedrooms. Had to deal with the whole aftermath with the police and emergency services. Millicent drove down later, to be with him and help out. As for the father—Mum said she’d never seen a man so utterly lost and defeated in her whole life. After that, we never saw them. Well, sometimes the brother would come, but only to check the place over, as I heard it.”

  Leonard began to understand why his aunt might want to keep the place, rather than have strangers living in the house where her first-born had killed himself. How on earth did a mother manage to console herself after such a dreadful tragedy?

  “I’d better start clearing up,” said Mrs Llewellyn, standing up from the table. “What time do think you’ll have breakfast in the morning?”

  “We’re planning an early start,” said Leonard. “How does eight sound?”

  “Perfect,” said Mrs Llewellyn. “And as you’re our only guests, I’ll cook breakfast to order tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for your help, Mrs Llewell—Megan,” said Leonard. “I know it’s early, but I’m ready to turn in after that long drive. How about you, Ade?”

  “Yeah, me too. But you go on up while I finish my drink and then sign for our food and drinks.”

  “Don’t let him pay for anything, Megan,” said Leonard, to an amused Mrs Llewellyn. “Put everything on the room bill. Remember you’re doing me a favour here, Ade, so I’m paying all your expenses. And I don’t want any arguments.”

  “Whatever you say. Just make sure you leave the room door unlocked for me.”

  Leonard felt sure Adrian was being a gentleman, wanting to give him time to change and get into bed without worrying about Adrian being in the room. At some point he needed to clear the air with his new friend.

  After the long drive and with a couple of pints of ale inside him, he already felt exhausted. He used the bathroom without showering, just a quick face wash before climbing into bed and checking his phone.

  He had no idea when he fell asleep or what time Adrian returned, but woke the next morning with the mobile phone still sitting next to his pillow and Adrian in the bed across from him, his broad back on view.

  Chapter Eight

  Cottage

  Adrian woke refreshed but disorientated to the sound of running water. Once his brain made sense of the unfamiliar surroundings, he looked to the bedside table, where the LED lights of the digital clock read seven-twenty. At first, he assumed the noise came from the drone of persistent rainy weather outside the darkened window. After a few moments, he heard variations in the resonance of the falling water, along with a familiar tuneless humming, and only then noticed the empty bed across from his.

  Lenny had hit the shower already. Almost by unspoken agreement, they’d chosen to move carefully around each other. The previous night Adrian had purposely stayed behind for another drink, and chatted more to the landlady about the local area. Tiredness had not really been an issue for him, having spent all day in the passenger seat, but he wanted to give Lenny time to get ready for bed before he came into the room and locked up.

  Still wearing his tee and sweatpants, he pulled himself into a sitting position at the side of the bed and scrubbed a hand through his short hair. Despite the pervasive smell of paint and the acrid odour of an industrial adhesive caulk odour he had used professionally when fitting bathrooms, he had still managed to sleep like a log.

  The night before, he had spotted a small kettle sitting on top of the free-standing fridge. In preparation for the morning, he had filled the device with water and placed two empty mugs to one side. With Lenny still in the bathroom, and unsure whether to make him tea or coffee, Adrian opened a single coffee sachet and poured in the grains. Checking the fridge, he smiled when he saw the hotel had provided a half-pint carton of fresh milk. Coffee mug nursed in his hands, Adrian returned to sitting with his feet up on the bed and flicked through channels on the room television until he landed on a news station.

  “Smells good.”

  As Adrian finished the last of his coffee, Lenny appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. Wearing a white bath robe, he rubbed his hair dry with a small towel. Even in the towelling gown that reached his knees he looked good, the dark hair of his chest enticingly visible. Adrian couldn’t help giving him a full appraisal.

  “Didn’t know if you took tea or coffee.”

  “Nothing for me. Why don’t you go and shower? Then we should head down and have a huge breakfast with a decent brand of tea before we get going. Not sure we’ll eat again until tonight.”
>
  “Actually, after you came up last night, I stayed and asked Mrs Llewellyn to arrange flasks of coffee and tea and packed lunches. To take with us. Wasn’t sure there would be any shops or other places to eat.”

  “See? I knew there was a reason for bringing you along. Now go and do your business while I get dressed.”

  “Will do,” said Adrian, standing up from the bed and stretching. “And we’re going to need a lot of waterproofs today, by the sound of the weather outside the window.”

  * * * *

  Lenny had been spot on about the distance. With Mrs Llewellyn’s directions and helpful landmarks that took them down a series of narrow winding lanes, they found the track leading to the farmhouse in about half an hour. Finding the property was another challenge altogether. Even with the GPS running, they drove past the entrance to Bryn Bach three times.

  Patchy satellite coverage in that part of the world only made matters worse. Even with the SUV stationary, the blue dot representing their car moved around erratically like a flying insect trying to decide where to land. The lane itself—more of a dirt track bordered by overgrown shrubs and trees—was only wide enough to take one car and provided no signposting. Coming to a dead end, Lenny displayed skilful driving with smooth three-point turn, avoiding dropping the car into ditches on either side of the track.

  Adrian had to put the light on in the car to study the picture Lenny had printed off. Nothing appeared familiar. The photograph of the cottage had been taken many years ago on a beautiful summer’s day. Hedgerows and trees seemed to be well-tended in the picture. Today, even without being disadvantaged by the dreadful weather and the dull light, greenery crept into the lane, wild and unkempt.

  When a streak of lightning flooded the road like a flashbulb going off, Adrian spotted their first clue. A bush had covered most of the white signpost to the farmhouse, but the sudden incandescence illuminated the wooden entrance to a driveway. Three long vertical slats of wood had a saltire diagonal cross, holding them together, while a small waist-high garden gate for those on foot sat fixed on the right side. At any other time Adrian would have shrugged off the structure as an old gate to a farmer’s field. Putting a hand on Lenny’s forearm, he told him to stop the car.