Lessons in Discovery (6 page)

now, which of course must seem very odd today when you no

doubt regard me as a stranger. But one day you’ll remember

everything, dear, and then it will be like old times.” She beamed.

Orlando thought how much Mrs. Stewart resembled Jonty

and how lovely she must have been at the same age. A sudden,

small voice in his head informed him that his friend was beautiful
now
and when he looked at Jonty he realised it was quite true, which was another terrible shock. He had never really considered before whether anyone was eye-catching and he’d now done it for

two people within a minute.

They finished their meal with a wealth more gossip and

made their way back to Stewart’s set for a cup of tea to refresh them and to give Orlando a chance to collect his thoughts.

Helena Stewart insisted that there was nowhere better to take

a cup than in front of one’s own fire. She was now ensconced on

Jonty’s sofa and her thoughts ran to old acquaintances.

“So you met old George Le Tissier on Jersey. I wonder if he

remembers me?”

“I don’t think that anyone would ever forget you, Mama.”

Jonty smiled affectionately. His mother, once met, was never to

be expunged from the memory.

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Charlie Cochrane

“Especially true in this case. Not my most shining moment,

Jonathan, I positively disgraced myself.” Mrs. Stewart blushed,

something that seemed out of character.

“Whatever did you do?” Their interest was piqued, their

appetite whetted at the thought of what revelation might come

from this lady’s lips. Jonty in particular was intrigued at the

thought of his mother disgracing herself in any way.

“It was a grand ball. A very big occasion, all the handsomest

young men were going to be there, including George who was a

subaltern at the time. Not that I had eyes for any of them except your father—that’s why I was so excited. Richard Stewart was

going to be present and we’d arranged in advance to have several dances together. Got out my best bib and tucker and set off.

Within a quarter of an hour of arriving there, a young man I’d

taken a waltz with, I can’t remember his name, the ill-favoured

surly thing.” She glanced surreptitiously at the often surly thing on her left but he was looking remarkably sweet and kind today.

“Anyway, he drew me off into a corner, said he’d never loved

anyone the way he adored me, proposed a marriage within three

months and when I refused to take up his offer, threatened to kill himself. I spent twenty-five minutes trying to talk him out of it.

Meant that I missed my first dance with your father, so I was

rather miffed. When I tracked Richard down to apologise he

hooted with laughter. He said he knew the chap and that he’d

done the same thing numerous times—the suicide threat was all a

big bluff of course. I was livid. Your father had to hold my hand and try to get me to calm down. I was all for going and tweaking the chap’s ear, but I suppose the hand-holding made it all

worthwhile.”

“It always does.” Jonty smirked slightly and there was a

suggestion of a blush on Orlando’s cheeks.
How odd
,
Jonty reflected, wondering if the embarrassment was due to

subconscious memories.

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Mrs. Stewart sailed on undaunted. “Then blow me down if

three dances later a similar thing didn’t happen, though I

remember the chap’s name this time. Samuel Parker, and he was a

toerag. We were walking through the portrait gallery at the back of the house en route to get an ice when he plighted his troth. I gave him the old ‘thank you but no thank you’ and he pulled me

behind the arras—I can see you sniggering, Jonty and it doesn’t

become you—and started to take the grossest liberties. All he got was a black eye—it was a real shiner, I was rather proud of

myself—and he departed. Then I had to go and find Richard again

and explain why I’d been late for our
next
dance. Had the suspicion that he thought your dear mama was a bit of a

flibbertigibbet, but he held my hand once more and called me his

‘dear little peach’. I can see you smirking
again
, Jonty, and if it happens a third time I will have no hesitation in taking you across my knee and spanking you. Anyway, I was furious, furious

beyond all measure. So when poor George Le Tissier came up all

beaming with excitement and asked for my hand, I forgot myself

entirely. It was pent-up anger, and I am not proud of myself. Now, are you ever going to make me that cup of tea or will you watch

your poor mother sit here, wasting away parched and drained?”

“Mother, I won’t even put the kettle on until you tell me

what you did that was so bad.”

“Laid him out, dear. One great big punch and
goodnight

sweetheart
. Now that ends that trifling matter and you need to address the greater one of my desiccated throat.”

When Mrs. Stewart was watered sufficiently to be able to

attempt the return journey, Summerbee, the porter, found a cab

(she wasn’t inclined to fly the broom). With many a kiss, hug and wave she was sent on her way.

“Well, what do you think?” Jonty grinned as they wandered

back to his set.

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Charlie Cochrane

Any answer was stifled by the call of Miss Peters, who sped

across the grass with a bundle in her hand. “Can’t stop, have to get back to sick bay. This flu is making life very difficult for all concerned. These are the things I told you about, copies of a

whole raft of documents which were discovered not two weeks

back, up in the attics of the lodge. Came out of the ark with Noah, well, out of the abbey with the Woodvilles, perhaps. Bit of a

complication on the horizon, though.” She thrust her burden into Stewart’s arms, then went on her way, tripping along like a girl.

“Extraordinary woman.” Orlando looked on awestruck.

“Now does that remark refer to Miss Peters or to my mama?

She’d be very cross to know that she had a rival for your

affections.”

“Both of them, Dr. Stewart. But I’ll keep your mother at the

top of my list, if I may. Miss Peters never sees fit to cover me with perfume and powder, even if it is accidental. You can tell her that she has my heart forever.”

Jonty swallowed hard at the familiar words, ones that

Orlando had spoken to him on many an intimate occasion. He

smiled at his friend affectionately. “Let’s take these back to your rooms to put with the others—we could manage an hour or two on

them before hall. I wish I knew what this wretched complication

was, though.”

Once back in his set, Orlando decided to take a first look at

the codes and Jonty, applying his knowledge of the period,

thought he might pore through the other documents with a view to building upon the notes his friend had started to make.

The room was hot, Orlando having stoked the fire up, so

Jonty stripped off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He wore a fine pair of dun-coloured braces, articles which brought

bittersweet memories. He and Orlando had often, on their return

from holiday, played a game in which they tried to ping the

other’s braces in public without anyone else noticing. Such

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satisfaction it had given, not just from the wonderful
thwack
which the elastic made when it was released, but from the little sting of pain that it would provoke in the man who’d been caught.

There were no such games now.

Jonty bent over his work, but was interrupted by a hand

upon his back. “Bit of a problem here, I’ll have to adjust it.” The clip at the back of the braces had worked loose and was starting to snag on the material of his trousers. Orlando deftly worked the

teeth loose and refastened them, giving the little thing a pat of satisfaction when finished. It was a gesture at once innocent and exceedingly intimate, which made Jonty almost a shivering

wreck. They hadn’t touched so closely since Orlando’s accident

and it smacked of earlier, happier times.

Jonty forced a smile and a “Thank you”, buried his nose in

the old leaves of parchment and hoped Orlando hadn’t noticed his confusion. They sat working for some time, although Jonty’s

mind was distracted and when he chanced a glance at his friend,

he knew he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t concentrate on the

task in hand.

“Jonty, I have a question I must put to you.” Orlando sat on

his settee, surrounded by his notes on various forms of ciphers. “I can’t concentrate on these—” he waved the papers in his hand,

“—until my mind is at rest.”

“Ask away, Orlando. We have no secrets between us, or

used not to have anyway.” Jonty could feel his throat constricting, the terrible urge to cry welling up.

“I have just had such a clear image come into my mind. It’s

of your shoulders and a peculiar line of moles across the left one, a bit like Orion’s belt and sword. Why should I know that they are there, or see them so clearly?”

Jonty laid down his sheaf of letters, turning slowly to his

friend. The crunch point had come, as he’d known that it must. He could lie, say “We holidayed together, Orlando, you’ve seen me

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Charlie Cochrane

getting changed often enough,” but the time had passed for

continuing economy with the truth. Especially after the way he’d felt himself react to Orlando’s touch.

He moved over to his friend, sat down, very gently took the

other man’s hand in his, was encouraged by the lack of reaction to the move, and spoke. “My dearest friend, what I’m going to say to you may well prove a very great shock, but you must understand

that, as God is my witness, it is nothing but the truth. We’ve been close, this last year, closer than just friends.” He observed the look of bewilderment on Orlando’s face and pressed on

regardless. “You should know that we’ve been intimate for nearly a year. Lovers. That’s how you know my shoulders so well, as I

know every mark on your frame.”

Orlando didn’t speak. He turned deathly pale, shook his head

but uttered no sound.

“I can assure you that it’s so. See this ring?” Jonty held aloft his left hand, heart rapidly sinking although desperate to assert itself. “You gave it to me the day of your fall. To celebrate a year since we met and almost as long since we fell in love.”

Orlando flung his hands from him, rose and stumbled to the

bathroom, from where Jonty could soon hear him vomiting,

spewing up, no doubt, both his disgust and his erstwhile lover’s faint hopes of a continuation of their relationship.

Jonty had thought his heart would never be broken again, but

he’d been wrong, ridiculously wrong, and the pain he felt now

was more than he felt he could bear.

Orlando emerged eventually, wiping his mouth and dabbing

his face with his handkerchief. There seemed to be no words that either man could find appropriate to the situation.

Jonty slowly removed the ring from his finger, placed it on

the desk and left.

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Jonty’s eyes were raw from crying. He’d used up most of his

clean hankies and couldn’t keep from looking at the mark on his

finger where the ring had been not an hour since. It was the only tangible thing he had left of the glories of the past year and now it had returned to Orlando, along with the last vestiges of any hope of a recommencement of their love affair. Jonty’s thoughts were

already turning to a change of college, of university, maybe going off with an archaeological expedition for the next four years until his heart didn’t hurt quite so much. He’d never felt so wretched as he did now, a great gaping hole echoing inside him, one he was

convinced would never heal. Orlando had been sickened at the

thought of their being lovers. It was as simple as that and now

there was no hope in all the world. And how on earth would he

tell his mother?

There was an instantly recognisable rap on the door. Jonty’s

instinct was to stay quiet, to pretend he wasn’t present, but his treacherous tongue gave voice to a “Come in” before he could

stop it.

Orlando gently opened the door, bearing the papers they’d

been looking through, a neat little pile with a small velvet bag on the top. Without a word he opened this and tipped the contents—

the signet ring—into its rightful owner’s unsteady hand. “This is yours and you shouldn’t be parted from it.” He looked at his sheaf of papers. “Thought we could carry on with these.”

Charlie Cochrane

Of all the words Jonty had expected to hear from his friend’s

lips, these seemed the most incongruous.
Never darken my

doorstep again
would have been more like it, but there was no logic here at all. He weighed the ring in his hand but couldn’t bear to put it back on yet. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me

again.”

Orlando’s eyes remained fixed on the documents. “That

would have been discourteous. I feel ashamed enough already

about my behaviour. I’m sorry that I caused you such pain—it

was just such a shock, you see.” He at last looked up and held

Jonty’s eyes. “I believe everything that you say to me Jonty, and if you tell me we have been…intimate…these last few months

then I accept the fact. But to have no knowledge of it, no memory at all of things we must have done, that’s so very hard. Especially hard when as far as I knew I’ve never had such experiences in all my life.”