“At last,” William interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “The truth.”
Edward pretended to ignore William’s rudeness and continued. “I never even knew about great-uncle Teddy until my grandmother told me about him. Turned out, for all these years, he was some big family secret. Honestly, I don’t even think my mum knew about him either. No one ever spoke about my great-grandmother having a sibling. Not until…”
A passing storm of sadness shrouded Edward’s eyes. William noticed it, almost tasting the change in atmosphere as the sour but familiar tang of grief stretched between them.
“Until what?” William urged.
“She was dying. Stage-four cancer. She’d been moved to a hospice just outside of Oxford when I went to visit her. Fun fact, she was the oldest living person in my family, shewasincredible.”
It didn’t go ignored that Edward was using the past-tense to talk about her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He shrugged, fingers fidgeting on the table. “It was during her last days when her truth finally came out.”
William had the strongest urge to reach over the table and take Edward’s hand. He couldn’t explain the urge and almost couldn’t ignore it. But William watched as Edward seemed to shrink into his self. His gaze was lost to an unimportant mark on the table, his nails picking at the wood just to give himself something to do.
William read that truth in every creased line across Edward’s forehead. Grief was familiar, even as it weighed on someone other than him.
“This is very personal, I won’t blame you if you don’t want to talk about it,” William said finally, braving the words. There was a dread that came with acknowledging death, as though the grim reaper was watching and waiting, looking for the praise that came with them completing their task. That was how William felt when Archie was brought up in conversation. Like somehow, if he had just pretended that death didn’t exist, he’d come walking back into his life.
“I said I was going to be truthful,” Edward said, lifting his eyes until their gazes collided. The shock of his attention almost stole the breath from William’s lungs. “I’ve never been a religious person, but I take peace knowing that she’s no longer suffering. That her pain has gone, and she can be the person she was before the sickness claimed her. Death isn’t always a bad thing, it can be freedom for some too.”
William lifted his coffee, needing something to do with his hands, and raised it in salute. Edward offered him a side-mouthed grin that never quite reached his eyes.
“The story came out about Teddy because I’d walked into her hospice room, and she seemed to light up from the inside. She was calling my name, but I just thought it was because she was glad to see me. I think between her suffering and the drugs in her system, she was confused. She took my hand and started waffling about waiting for me. I will never forget when she looked to the door and asked wherehewas.”
“Who?” William’s blood thundered in his ears. For some strange reason, he knew what Edward was going to say.
“Robert. Robert Thomas.”
Hanbury Manor decided that was the moment to groan. The walls creaked, the ceiling bowing, as if some great biblical wind had just come in and attempted to sweep the manor from its foundations. An ice-cold shiver traced down William’s spine. He chose to ignore it whilst Edward turned his head up and looked, acknowledging the noise for what it was.
Unnatural.
A response to a call.
“Go on,” William said, almost too desperately. “Please.”
Neither he, nor Hanbury, would be satisfised until ever last detail was laid out between them.
Edward lowered his gaze and rested it upon William. It was impossible not to notice how the tension across his face eased just a little when he did so. “I played along because I didn’t want to upset her. It took some time to piece it together. When she slept, I waited. She’d wake up and it was as if her mind was hers again. I was able to ask who Robert was, and that was when the story came out. She told me about how her brother was sent to Hanbury Manor to stay with close friends of her parents, while their father was in London discussing the impending war. I think that sending Teddy away was their attempt to keep him out of the jaws of conscription. It worked until it didn’t. Except that’s what everyone else thinks. My great-grandmother said that the last time she heard from her brother was a letter. It had reached her, outlining his need to escape Hanbury with someone called Robert Thomas. It wasn’t said in plain words, but she knew her brother and, even from reading his written words, could tell he’d fallen in love with a man. They were twins. I should’ve mentioned that. Some people talk about the mental bond between twins, and I think that was what it was. Her own innate knowing. In the letter, he’d called them friends, but she believed they were more than that.
“It outlined plans given to my great-grandmother. A date and place for her to meet them. It was late November in 1939. Edward and Robert were meant to arrive at Oxford by train, where she’d arrange further travel to get them down south where my family originally came from. But they never arrived. She’d told me that she waited all day for them. Even when the last train arrived, she refused to leave the station. Then she returned to the same place for the following four days and did the same, waiting for hours on end. A few weeks later, the telegram about Edward’s death arrived with her post.”
“Oh, my God.” William stood abruptly, his body thrumming with nervous energy. He began to pace, and all the while, Edward’s story settled on his skin like ash. “She was right about Teddy and Robert. They did love each other.”
“How do you know?” Edward asked.
William had the urge to go upstairs and collect the journal, just so Edward could read through the story he’d discovered. “Robert called him Teddy, it’s all in his journal. But what your great-grandmother thought about them, she was right about that. I–”
The pain hit him so suddenly that it nearly knocked William to his knees. He thought of Robert loving someone so much, only to lose them. Regardless of whether it was at war or by other means, it had driven Robert to his suicide, no doubt. And it was a pain that was all too familiar to William.
Something he’d experienced himself.
“Are you all right?” Edward asked, standing behind William, a strong hand laid on his shoulder. The touch was comforting, enough to help William focus.
William didn’t remember Edward moving. But he had, in a blink, honest concern creasing the skin between his brows. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day, that’s all.”
“Sit back down,” Edward said, guiding him into his chair. “Tell me about this journal. Can I read it? Maybe it will help give some answers to what really happened with my great-uncle?”
