Lenny tipped his head back and laughed.
“Good point. I never did get you to sign anything, did I?”
“Your word is good enough for me.”
The comment had been made lightly, but Lenny became quiet. After driving along an empty lane for a few moments, he reached a hand across and squeezed Adrian’s thigh. Adrian placed his hand on top and laced their fingers together.
“How did I ever find you?” asked Lenny.
“I think we found each other.”
* * * *
With the food shopping done, they arrived back at the house at ten o’clock. As Adrian collected the food bags from the back seat, Lenny opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small wooden box. Intrigued, Adrian stood and watched him, and Lenny lifted the lid to display a keyring with over thirty ornate-looking keys of all shapes and sizes.
“For the dresser,” he explained to Adrian, before heading for the front door.
“I thought when you mentioned a skeleton key, there’d be one master key that opened everything. Like they use in every television crime drama series I’ve ever seen.”
“For some modern locks there is. But with antiques, the carpenter could have used any number of styles of lock, which means the keys will also vary. But I’ve pretty much got them all covered here, so it’s just a case of trial and error until we find the right one. To be honest, I could probably pick the lock—I’ve got a small tool that I’ve used before for that—but this way, we get to see what key has been used and I can get replacements made.”
“I’ve got no patience for that kind of thing,” admitted Adrian. “Let me put the food away, and while you do that, I’ll carry on with the list of outstanding jobs Toni left me.”
“Sounds like a bossy so-and-so, this Toni.”
“She’s the best in the business. Thorough and professional. Think yourself lucky she was free.”
“I do. I’m only kidding. I think myself lucky to have both of you. I’ll give you a shout if I manage to get any of the drawers open.”
Adrian set about his mini-tasks—sanding down the wall in the kitchen, readying for Toni to complete the wiring and plastering, checking floorboards downstairs and marking with chalk any mismatched or damaged ones and replacing the broken floorboard in the alcove where they’d found the dresser.
With Lenny huffing over at the dresser by the front window, he began prising up the floorboard. Tony had cut out plywood and covered the area to ensure nobody stepped onto the faulty board. Within minutes, Adrian had the old board pulled up and found a replacement from the spares they had removed from the kitchen. Lenny had decided to lay flagstones in dark-grey limestone to delineate the kitchen from the main living area. Cutting the board into place, Adrian heard Lenny again, cussing softly, keys jingling on the keyring. As he passed Lenny, he leant in and pecked him on the cheek.
Almost by accident, when Adrian went to check the area for the new floorboard, he peered into the floor space and spotted something in a small dusty sack with a drawstring around the top. Using his gloved hand, he lifted out the item. When he pulled the drawstring open and tipped the bag up, three bronze keys clattered into the palm of his other glove. Unable to stop the burst of laughter, Lenny looked over.
“Look what I found buried in the floor," said Adrian, holding them out. “Any idea what they might be used for?”
“You’re kidding me? They’ve been there all this time? Bring them over here and let’s give them a try.”
Adrian handed them to Lenny and stood by, curious to see if they had found anything.
“These look right. I’m guessing the smaller key opens the three drawers and the larger ones are for each of the cupboards. Do you want to do the honours?”
“No, Lenny. This is your property and your family. You go ahead.”
A mood of anticipation surrounded them as Lenny unlocked the first drawer. Surprisingly, the drawer opened smoothly, but all they found inside was an old newspaper lining the bottom. The other two drawers proved stiff and more difficult to open, but neither revealed anything of interest—a button in one, a couple of rusty screws and drawing pins in another.
When Lenny tried the first of the cupboards, the one on the left-hand side, they struck lucky. Wedged inside he found a cardboard box of Polaroids. Most of them were of Pippa, Freya and Howie, but they were far more interesting, far more candid and unposed than the ones Freya had shown them. Some were of Luke, wearing headphones, a Walkman in his hands. Occasionally the shots included Luke’s sister, Mary, and sometimes, an older man, probably in his thirties and usually in the background, who Adrian assumed to be Freya and Howie’s father. Included in the collection they found less candid pictures—these ones posed and formal—of Matthew and his sister, sitting on the lawn in the back garden of Bryn Bach, reading or drawing. At the same time, a much younger, recognisably severe-looking Aunt Millicent looked on from her deckchair on the raised patio. But even those told a story.
Towards the bottom of the box, Lenny pulled out a brown envelope containing shots of random older men, the collection only slightly faded with time but still sharp and surprisingly homoerotic. All of the men looked to be in their twenties, one handsome guy with freckles and red wavy hair, bare-chested and smiling unsurely at the camera. Another shot, taken in what looked to be the garden of the Manor Inn, showed two men with drinks at a wooden table, straddling the bench so that they sat facing each other, and grinning broadly at a shared secret. Multiple snaps of a bronzed and muscled farmhand stood out, a blond-haired guy wearing a thin white vest, almost obscenely short blue shorts with thick thighs and long legs descending into Wellington boots, who looked to be fixing the massive wheel of a tractor. Unlike the others, this man smiled and laughed openly, enjoying the attention, posing almost seductively for some pictures, but in others comfortable in his work and seemingly ignorant of the camera. The photos had been taken at different times because in one he was wearing a rugby shirt and chatting with Pippa and Howie. One thing was for sure. The cameraman had been captivated by his subject.
“We ought to find out who that is,” said Adrian.
“He’s good-looking, isn’t he?”
The pang of jealousy Adrian felt caught him entirely by surprise.
“Is he your type?”
“When I say he’s good-looking, I’m speaking objectively. He does nothing for me in that way. Too young, too clean cut, too innocent. Turns out you’re my type.”
Even if he had wanted to, Adrian could not have stopped the smile that rose from deep within him.
“Yeah?”
Lenny leant in and kissed him on the lips.
“Oh, yeah.”
“So maybe we should show some of these to Pippa,” said Adrian, putting one snapshot to one side. “She’s in this one with him, so she might remember who he is. What’s that at the bottom of the box?”
“Postcards,” said Lenny, reaching for them and flipping one over to read. “Sent from Bristol. Addressed to Howie and Freya from Luke to let them know the dates he would be coming to Bryn Bach.”
“Try the other cupboard.”
The second one turned out to hold even more interesting items. From inside, on the top of a pile, Lenny pulled out an old camera in its original packing.
“This is an Olympus OM1,” said Lenny, turning the box in his hands. “They were all the rage when they first came out. I wonder if Luke had hidden this to use later for his photography course.”
In the cupboard, they also discovered a collapsible camera tripod with six unopened boxes of Kodak 35mm film, and an old cassette recorder. While Lenny sorted through them, Adrian pulled out a pile of old books. One had pages of photographs by the famous portrait photographer, David Bailey, another showed the Polaroids of Andy Warhol, while the third entitled The Americans was by a photographer called Robert Frank. Apart from that there was a pile of well-thumbed paperbacks, including the first Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin, The Collected Poems of Wilfred O
wen, Maurice by E. M. Forster, and a small, tattered, Berlitz Travel Guide to Italy. Adrian had read them all except the travel guide. Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City series had been his go-to books in London during many a dark day when he had been feeling low, something to lighten his spirit and make him feel the world was an okay place to live in, no matter who you were, or how you chose to live your life. He took the book from Lenny and smelled the musty pages. He was moved knowing he and Luke had cherished the same book, had read the same words.
Adrian flicked through the pages and noticed a couple turned over in the corner. He used to do the same thing, not as a bookmark, but to highlight passages or sections he enjoyed reading over again.
“Oh my goodness. Look at this,” said Lenny, handing Adrian a couple of larger photographs. In another envelope, he had discovered a sheet of folded paper and some very old pictures, in what Felippe had once referred to as sepia tones—dark brown and cream colours. Adrian smiled, seeing the image of Bryn Bach during its construction. In another, six workmen of varying ages in shirt sleeves, flat caps, baggy trousers and work boots had been arranged rather stiffly and uncomfortably around a man in a smart black suit with a waistcoat, a high collar and black tie. Obviously from the upper classes, this besuited man sported long sideburns and peered haughtily at the camera.
“Lord Charles, I’m guessing. But have a look at this.”
In the last photograph, Lord Charles had his arm around the shoulders of one of the younger construction workers, one who bore a passing family resemblance to Lenny.
“Looks like Lord Charlie took a shine to your great, great grandfather.”
“I think you may be right. And look at this. It’s our family tree.”
Adrian peered over Lenny’s shoulder at the beautiful calligraphy mapping out the family’s bloodline.
“No doubt our ancestral tree began before this, but Luke must have been intrigued to know about Lord Charles Hawesworth, the man who left the house to Harold Hubert Day, our great, great grandfather. According to this, Harold married at twenty-one and had four children, the oldest being Denham Charles Day.”
Adrian followed Lenny’s finger down the page, where someone had pencilled in Bryn Bach against individual names. All through their family history, the house had been left to the oldest son in the family.
“Why would your grandfather decide to break with tradition and leave the property to Luke? Surely your father should have been the rightful owner after him.”
“Maybe he knew how much Luke loved the place. Maybe he discovered how oppressed Luke was by his mother and wanted to provide a safety net. I met Grandpa George a number of times. My father always referred to him as frighteningly perceptive. I remember my grandpa saying to my parents once, in front of me, that I was never going to waste my life in academia, but destined for commerce or other things more business orientated. I’m betting he told my father of his intentions to leave Bryn Bach to Luke and probably explained why.”
“You think he knew Luke was gay?”
“No idea. But as I said, the old fox could be perceptive. And my father would have understood. He clearly had no interest in the house, otherwise we’d have visited.”
“But it still ended up his and yours,” said Adrian.
“Ironically, it did.”
“So,” said Adrian, “I guess the crucial question remains. What does all this tell us?”
“What it doesn’t tell us is why Luke would take his own life. Putting personal items aside is the kind of action someone takes if they’re thinking about their future.”
“We definitely need to talk to Freya and Pippa again. Show them what we’ve found.”
“I agree. And maybe we can find out if Freya has a set of keys to the house.”
* * * *
Adrian found the simplicity of the old cooker’s controls soothing. No digital timers or confusing LED controls, no convoluted fan-assisted or conventional cooking options, just one large white dial for the oven’s temperature. Sometimes he agreed with his mother that modern societies had overcomplicated their lives with fancy gimmicks and gadgets they didn’t really need with features they spent hours trying to master—and didn’t need either.
Adrian showered before Lenny then set about food preparations. With everything cooking, he set the small table with a red and white paper tablecloth and matching napkins, items he had bought at the superstore. Even though he’d brought plates and cutlery from home, they had no wineglasses, so the bottle of chilled Chablis with the meal would be enjoyed out of glass tumblers, continental style.
With only the old fridge, the cooker and the sink in the kitchen, the space seemed ridiculously vast, but at least the smells coming from the oven made up for the lack of decoration. One downside to the old-fashioned stove was the solid metal door design, not glass like modern ovens, which prevented him from checking progress without opening the door and losing valuable heat. But he had cooked the recipe often enough to know when the food would be cooked.
They had shared many meals, but for some reason, this one felt special. Maybe because just the two of them would be sitting in the room, or perhaps because this would be their last for a few weeks.
“Okay, Chef, how’s it all coming together?” came Lenny’s voice as he rounded the corner. “Smells amazing.”
“Pretty good, all things considered.”
“That old oven must have been built in the seventies,” said Lenny as Adrian stood at the cooker, checking the potatoes in the saucepan. Lenny pressed his body up against him, put his chin on Adrian’s shoulder and kissed his neck. “I’m surprised it’s still working.”
“Us old things were built to last.” Adrian pushed his backside gently into Lenny’s groin. “Make yourself useful and pour me a glass of wine.”
Lenny moved away to the old fridge and pulled out the bottle.
“Next time I’m here, we’ll have a modern kitchen with fitted units, a long kitchen island, a huge oven and an even bigger fridge.”
Three weeks. Lenny had told him he’d be gone for three weeks because he had a motor show in Yorkshire and some Irish properties to view over the next couple of weekends. He had tried hard not to show his disappointment when Lenny told him. On the plus side, he could knuckle down and get the place finished without any distractions. Apart from a few odd jobs and unlocking the dresser, they had done very little this visit.
Except sex.
They’d had plenty of sex.
“Just so we’re clear. We’re going ahead with the downstairs shower room and the full upstairs bathroom, with a separate bath and shower cubicle.”
“Correct. All units and fixtures should have been ordered. If you think of anything else, let me know and I’ll give you a quick decision. I’ve got Toni’s and your invoices, so I’ll get those paid within the next couple of weeks.”
“You know, most of the clients I work for have at least a sixty-day payment clause. Fourteen days is unheard of in my profession.”
“Yes, well. You’re doing me a favour. And I’d like to think I’m more than a client.”
As Lenny poured the white wine into glasses, he caught Adrian’s eye and winked.
“And what do you think about Toni’s suggestion?” asked Adrian. A waft of heat blasted his face when he opened the oven door and checked on the food. “Solar panelling? You’ve definitely got enough roof space. And I can help her install them for you. It’ll save you a heap on electricity bills, even if it won’t mean getting off the grid completely. I just think it makes sense, if you’re not living here all year round.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea. Sorry, I thought I’d already said so. I’m going to have to meet Toni. She’s done amazing work in the house. You both have. When I’m down next time, could we all have dinner together?”
“I’ll let her know. Maybe I can invite her partner, Jack, to join us,” said Adrian. Using a dessert spoon, he dished up the salmon and vegetables onto plates, ready to serve. “Can
’t believe that next time you’re here, we’ll have pretty much everything finished. And then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Only after placing both plates of food on the small table did he meet Lenny’s eyes. While handing Adrian a tumbler of wine, and clinking glasses, Lenny asked, “And what if I like having you in my hair? What then, Ade?”
Adrian couldn’t help smiling at Lenny. He had been thinking along the same lines. They lived so far apart, but the last thing he wanted was for this intense connection to end.
“We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.”
Somehow they would need to find a way.
Chapter Nineteen
Summons
Leonard hadn’t seen Adrian for three weeks.
Three whole weeks since he had shared a bed with his lover, and, of course, since someone had tried to burn the house down. Which is why he had been relieved to hear Adrian enthuse about the comprehensive security system, one the installers had shown Adrian how to control using his mobile phone. Adrian had talked Leonard through installing the application and they had set a secure password together, so Leonard could now view all around the house externally, and also inside the downstairs living areas.
And in those three weeks, while Leonard had been running around England and Ireland on business, Adrian and Toni had made incredible progress. Adrian had kept him in the loop, naturally, with photos showing the transformation.
Leonard had felt a personal pride in finally getting the old family home restored. Moreover, if he was going to be perfectly honest, he had also enjoyed letting go and trusting Adrian to work his magic without Leonard being there. He knew Adrian would work to Leonard’s same exacting standards.
With the new windows, window boxes, external painting, garden, guttering and roof repairs completed, they had turned their attention to completing the final tasks. The house now had a new open kitchen and bathroom suites, fully compliant electrics, plastering, painting and tiling, treated and polished floorboards and staircase. On his instruction, Pippa’s team had even replaced the garden patio and low surrounding wall, matching the original design they’d seen in Freya’s snapshots as well as adding boxes with flowers and herbs around the patio. All he needed now was to fit in the pieces of furniture he had chosen with Adrian.
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