Having his left arm in a sling still meant him being restricted, and even though he felt a twinge of pain now and then, he had pretty much mended. Being unable to drive with one hand, Lenny had wanted to pick him up from Drayton, but his man had been crazy with work and then needed to rush to Wales to sign off on final items of work on the house.
Instead, Adrian had cadged a lift with Toni and Jack who had both volunteered to help Lenny with the arrangements. Just as well, because Toni wanted to hear all about Adrian’s meeting in Cambridge on the way down.
Apart from recuperating in Drayton, Adrian had found a day to meet up with his new boss, Tom Bradford, in nearby Cambridge and, after some negotiations, had confirmed he would be starting work for him in London the following Monday. Lenny had breathed a sigh of relief when Adrian had called with the news. Lenny wanted him in his London home as much as he ached to be there.
Adrian directed Jack to park up in the lane rather than outside the house. He wanted to inspect the fruits of their labour on the walk to the front door. With his good arm braced on the top of the door frame of the cab, he climbed out of Jack’s pickup, then turned around and retrieved his bag and wrapped gift from the back seat. While he waited for Jack and Toni to collect their holdalls, he surveyed the driveway.
Lenny had left the entrance open, probably expecting them to drive up to the house. A fresh coat of white paint made the gate sparkle, set against the backdrop of professionally groomed hedgerows and manicured trees and bushes, so different from the overgrown mess that had originally met them all those months back.
They scrunched their way in companionable silence down the gravel driveway to the house, each of them remarking when the newly spruced up façade came into view.
Since his last visit, the original flint work all around the lower level of the house had been thoroughly cleaned, the speckled rock cladding now vibrant and authentic and offset by the brick upper level which had been given a fresh coat of white paint. Only those looking for modernisations would spot the new sash windows of dark wood—probably oak—and the new guttering along the front of the roof, both items sympathetically chosen to match the originals. Even the portico and front door had been given a makeover. As Adrian approached he felt sure he could feel the house smiling.
Lenny had not heard them arrive and the sheer delight on his face at opening the front door and seeing them on the doorstep filled Adrian with a fondness he had only experienced since meeting Lenny, and one he had come to treasure.
After hugs and kisses, with Lenny ushering Toni and Jack into the house and telling them to drop their bags in their room, Adrian took his turn in his lover’s arms but then held Lenny back. After taking a deep breath, he held out his present.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I commissioned these for the house. A friend of mine in Norwich runs her own pottery studio and I asked her to create a couple of identical house signs in ceramic, a replacement for the one at the front gate and one to display here above the front door.”
Lenny unwrapped the ceramic tiles in front of Adrian. In bold letters, they announced the name of the house, which in Welsh meant ‘small hill’, and, in a curvy script beneath, he had added three simple words in Italian, because in Max’s letter to Luke he had written about Luke’s dream for them to travel across Italy together.
B r y n B a c h
- Casa di Luca –
Luke’s home.
Leonard stood staring down, frozen to the spot. Adrian was about to ask if he liked the artwork but then noticed Lenny’s hands shake slightly, saw him swallow a couple of times and a tear form in the corner of his right eye.
“Oh, shit, Lenny. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no. They’re beautiful, Ade. Perfect. I love them,” said Lenny, squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger before reaching out and pulling Adrian into a gentle hug, careful not to touch his left arm. “We are so much on the same wavelength. I feel the same way. This is Luke’s house. Always was and always will be. Let’s fix them up today ready for the party tomorrow so everyone can see them. But before that, I’ve got something I need to showyou.”
He led Adrian to the living room, to what was once the bare wall in the alcove to the right of the fireplace, where a small cabinet now stood. Six large-framed photographs hung there now, two in the old sepia tones of the construction of Bryn Bach and Lord Charles with his arm around a young Harold Day. Two were of Luke and Max together. But the last two Adrian had not seen before, of Lenny and himself. One had them laughing at a joke together in the shell of the living room, in overalls and covered in plaster dust, while the other was them sitting on the top step of the terrace, with the sunset behind. All around the larger pictures, long white rectangular frames had been mounted—some positioned vertically, some horizontally—that held the small Polaroids of Luke’s friends at play.
“Toni took the ones of us. Brilliant resolution on her phone camera. Kieran got them all framed for me. What do you think?”
Adrian had to take a moment before responding. Of course, he appreciated the photographs of Luke and Max and the construction of Bryn Bach. But the ones of Lenny and himself, of their burgeoning relationship, touched a place deep inside him.
“Amazing. And speaks to the history of the house.”
“Exactly. A Bryn Bach history wall.”
When Adrian turned to look at Lenny, his eyes deflected to a large oil painting over the fireplace. He took a moment to realise what he was seeing. Someone had replicated the photograph of Luke, Pippa, Howie and Freya playing in the garden together as teenagers. The whole ensemble with the dance of light behind them felt like life, and youth and joy personified. Whoever had painted Luke, had captured his features wonderfully, the eyes with the same longing they’d had in the original photograph.
“See what I mean when I say we’re on the same wavelength? I asked for the actual photo to be enlarged, but Kieran’s contact told him the print had too many wrinkles and creases, and that he couldn’t do the picture justice without losing some of the resolution. I’m not sure I actually believe him now, because almost straight away, Isabelle, who I work with, piped up and asked if a friend of hers could make an oil painting based on the photo. And as you can see, her friend has a rare talent. For most people this is simply a happy portrait of youth. But for those of us in the know, this is a special moment in time captured and enjoyed in this house.”
“Oh my goodness, Lenny. It’s absolutely brilliant. Has anyone else seen this wall?”
“Apart from me? No, you’re the first. And I think I can hear Toni and Jack coming down the stairs, so they’ll be next,” said Lenny. “And from tomorrow? Everyone who comes to the house.”
* * * *
The official kick-off for the party was one o’clock.
To keep in good favour with the locals, Lenny had asked Megan Llewellyn and her team to cater the party. They’d even hired Maggie Llewellyn—her daughter—and two of her young friends to don white shirts and black skirts or trousers and offer guests drinks and finger food on silver platters in the house and garden. Maggie, her friends, and the burly Manor Inn chef—they never had figured out his name—arrived at eleven to set up tables and chairs in the garden and a bar to one side, and to begin preparing and laying out the finger food in the kitchen. Both Lenny and Adrian stayed well out of the way, seeing the hive of activity, and giving them room to work their magic.
Mary texted Lenny to say she would be arriving early, because she had to pick up another guest, and also because she wanted to park in the driveway, her husband having mobility issues. Lenny said he had offered Mary and her husband the downstairs room, but Mary had declined, saying she wanted to get them back home the same day.
