Chapter 9 Gross Indecency
“Well, that’s all for me tonight.” Charlie raised the glass to his lips and finished the pint he had been nursing. “It's my turn to open the shop tomorrow and I promised Betty we would go to Hampstead Heath for our afternoon off.”
“I wouldn’t want to keep you up past your bedtime.” For his part, Ned should have left half an hour ago, but he’d been enjoying their conversation too much to be bothered to pull himself from the booth.
His reluctance to conclude the evening was tempered by the fact he no longer felt he had to hoard each moment with Charlie.
Over the past month, they had settled into a routine of evenings like tonight, sitting in a pub chatting about whatever crossed their minds, from the latest headlines to what was new in the cinema.
“Where are you off to?” Charlie reached for his jacket as he extracted himself from the booth.
“The theatre, a new show by a friend of Hugh’s. It's supposed to be very modern and revolutionary, all about suffering and pain and ideals for a better world.”
“It sounds a lot like you, actually.” Charlie flashed Ned a grin. “Totally incomprehensible, but quite lovely.”
For a moment, Ned thought about how little action it would take to pull Charlie into some dark alley and kiss him, hold him with his whole body till they were both trembling.
Except Charlie had given no overt signal that he was at all interested in reigniting their past intimacy.
No subtle glances, no casual touches, certainly no direct offers.
Ned didn’t question the absence. Charlie wouldn’t be the first man that found cock was a lot less attractive outside the trenches.
So Ned reminded himself how much he was enjoying their friendship. If he ended the night pulling himself off in a haze of memories, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“See you next Tuesday then? I saw there was a new double showing at Leicester Square.”
Next week? Oh bugger. “Actually, I’ve an engagement next Tuesday. Later in the week?”
Charlie didn’t look up as he finished doing up his buttons. “Of course, I should’ve thought. It’s your birthday.”
Bugger and damnation. Charlie remembered? Now Ned felt like a complete cad. “I’m hosting a small gathering of friends at a pub. You are welcome to join, of course, but it is a bar for…”
“Men with particular inclinations?” Charlie asked with his damn arched brow.
Ned nodded and held his breath, expecting Charlie to politely, or even impolitely, reject the invitation. It was one thing to be acquainted with a sexual deviant, quite another to accompany him to a pub where all sorts of moral and legal codes were being broken.
Instead, Charlie asked, “Does this place serve beer?”
“I believe so.”
“What time?”
???
The birthday gathering had been Hugh’s idea, motivated in no small part by his desire for Ned to spend money on drinks for people who put on the type of shows that Hugh wanted to feature in.
Ned had, however, insisted that the gathering be at The Pillars rather than the basement bar at the Ritz or The 43 or any of the other more exclusive addresses.
The Pillars was scruffy, narrow, and in the worst part of Soho.
The complete lack of pretension was what Ned enjoyed about the place.
The patrons who came here swapped stories as much as they exchanged flirtatious looks.
In a way, the casual camaraderie reminded Ned of the trenches; despite differences in age, profession or interests, every man who walked through the door shared the same desire, the same risk.
Tonight The Pillars didn’t feel anything like Ned’s cosy brotherhood. Hugh had invited dozens of men Ned didn’t know, and their echoing cacophony made Ned’s heart race and his hands tremble in panic.
“Christ, he is a good-looking man.” Freddy had appeared next to where Ned leaned against the bar, the kind of sudden appearance that made Ned want to jump out of his own skin.
He fought to keep his breathing even and followed Freddy’s gaze.
Of course the man in question would be Charlie, who was chatting with a group of painters, pint in hand.
He was leaning against the wall, jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled up, his chestnut hair falling slightly into his eyes, looking exactly like what he was—a shopkeeper enjoying a drink after a long day.
Ned’s fingers itched to run through his thick waves, to brush them out of his eyes and let one thumb slide across his temple.
Charlie made a joke, causing the assembled crowd to double over in laughter while he took another sip of his beer with that slightly cocky smile on his face.
“I don’t think he’s interested, Fred.” Ned forced a casual tone into his voice as he gripped his cocktail glass more tightly.
“Of course, you get the first pass.” Freddy said knowingly. “But half this pub wants to take home that rough.”
Ned stiffened at the use of the derogatory slang. Charlie might be working class, but he had never been thuggish, in bed or out. Not that Ned could disclose any of that to Freddy. “Charlie and I are old friends. There’s no first pass to take.”
Freddy looked at Ned curiously. “If he were inclined? Would you really refuse?”
Before Ned could open his mouth, Freddy continued, “I adore Hugh, we all do. But don’t think for a moment that we adore you any less, or that we don’t want you to take your own role on the stage instead of watching his.
” Freddy stood on his tiptoes, kissed Ned on the cheek, and sauntered off to talk to other friends, taking Ned’s cocktail with him.
Ned was left feeling a bit stunned, not at all sure what Freddy had meant.
The downside of The Pillars was that it was relatively cramped, with tables and chairs squeezed in wherever they would fit.
The only place left for Ned was a small stool where his back would be to the rest of the bar.
An exposed back had troubled Ned since the war, but he hated drawing attention to this particular weakness.
“Take my seat, I wasn’t using it.” Charlie gestured at the bench against the wall near where he had been leaning. He then made a pointed stare at Ned’s empty hand. “What are you drinking?”
As Charlie got up to go to the bar and Ned brushed by him to take the vacated seat, they locked eyes, Charlie’s blue seeking confirmation that Ned was fine, Ned trying to convey his thanks for offering the bench.
“A sidecar, please,” he answered, and Charlie nodded.
When Charlie returned with the drinks, Ned tried not to read into the fact that Charlie sat right next to him. Before he could even thank him for the drink, a hand was extended out to Charlie.
“George Roland, it’s a pleasure. Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before?”
Freddy was right. The whole pub really was drooling over Charlie.
“Charlie Villiers. Edmund invited me.” Hearing Charlie use his full name sounded bizarre. “We were in the 1st London Territorial together.”
“I was with the Devonshires.” Ned had forgotten George had served, but it wasn’t surprising. The affable civil servant was closer to his own age than anyone else here. “Heard the 1st Londoners got up to a fair amount of trouble.”
“You would have to blame our officers for that. They were always coming up with ways to keep us up all night.” Charlie might have been talking to George, but his gaze was all for Ned.
“I remember hearing about some ridiculous heroics. Some lunatic spent a night alone in No Man’s Land playing hide-and-seek with Fritz?”
“I wouldn’t call the man sitting beside you a lunatic.” Charlie winked—actually winked—at Ned. “Not on his birthday at least.”
Before he could think about what he was saying, Ned found himself responding in kind.
“The true lunatic in our division was Charlie. One evening before a big push, he got the whole section drunk on brandy he had found in the cellar of an abandoned farmhouse. I thought he was going to be arrested as a traitor, considering the number of men that were out cold.”
“Christ, man! French brandy can be deadly!” George slapped Charlie on the back, showing more praise than condemnation.
Charlie shrugged. “So were the plans for the next day. I figured we should have a head start.”
Ned flicked his eyes up to where another group of guests was standing and found Hugh staring right back at him, frowning in concern, or even sadness?
In any case, it made Ned’s stomach clench.
This was where Freddy was wrong. Hugh was better than Ned deserved; he never expected Ned to be anything more than a wealthy bohemian.
So Ned crossed his legs and leaned back in an overly casual affectation. “I was bloody grateful to be assigned to the War Office. It was impossible to get a good cocktail in the trenches.”
That got the laughter he was looking for from the assembled group. Better them think him a coward than a butcher.
Letting momentum propel him, Ned pulled his blond lover over from where he had been chatting with another group and into his lap. Ned forced a smile on his face. This sort of light banter was exactly the conversation he wanted. Charlie’s knee wasn’t touching his anymore, though.
Hugh drew a finger down Ned’s face. “I shudder to think of you in any of those horrid uniforms. It would have done absolutely nothing for your colouring at all.” He then leaned back as if to swoon across Ned’s lap.
“Although if you want to play the ravishing soldier, I won’t have any objections at all. ”
Ned leaned in to kiss Hugh to cheers throughout the bar. Ned felt a little ashamed of the spectacle they were making, but then reminded himself that this was what he wanted, to live without caring, without masks, and so he deepened the kiss.
Out of the corner of his vision, he noted that Charlie had moved away and was now standing by the bar. Clearly he had hit his limit for flagrant homosexuality for the evening. Ned shrugged mentally to himself. Charlie had known what he was getting himself into when he agreed to come here.