The anniversary of our weddings rolled around rapidly after the opening night of the play and I had many plans of how to celebrate the year we'd all been living together. The idea I finally came to was met with giddy approval and for the weekend of our anniversary we had agreed to give our entire staff two days off and fend for ourselves for the festivities. In truth, the idea of no servants for the weekend was rather liberating though I'd come to care for them deeply.
That weekend we stood by the front garden on the gravelly path as our household stood packing up the cars we'd ordered to take them to the station for their trip to the seaside. Sophia and I linked arms as Fettis placed some luggage into the boot of one of the cars. The other servants stood by the first car, side by side, excitably chatting to one another, looking somewhat different in their ordinary clothes. I then spied young Christopher Marks coming into view, a large smile beaming across his face. We'd allowed Christopher to take the trip with them just as long as he and Eleanor were chaperoned at all times!
I watched like a proud father as he greeted our Eleanor, took her hand gently and helped her into the car. There were no wedding bells yet where this young couple were concerned but there was certainly a deep romance blossoming. They'd been inseparable since the play and whenever Eleanor had time off, there she was meeting Christopher for a date at the tea shop.
As our loyal servants climbed into the two cars, Sophia and I waved our goodbyes and watched as the cars disappeared down the street. They were gone. We were alone. How would we fare without them? In honesty the trip was as much for our benefit as it was a break for them and I confess a selfishness in my decision to arrange the trip to the seaside and hotel. You see, our wishing to fend for ourselves for the weekend did not come from some desire to appear more forward-thinking nor to be more courteous to our staff but rather because their absence in the manor meant my plan for our anniversary surprise could work much better with the staff out of the picture.
It may have been the anniversary of my wedding to Sophia but it was now going to be my 'wedding' to George. Naturally a lawful and traditional ceremony was not possible and sadly we had never consecrated the union we shared with one another. Neither had the girls and we felt strongly that those two unions, the unspoken kind, deserved a celebration of their own. I arranged that we would invite our friends in the know and finally have the 'weddings' we wanted. We would gather in the conservatory, confess our love and devotion, and then dance, eat and be merry. It was a secret that we would enjoy and never reveal except to our loyal few. We would then resume our normal lives the following day with the knowledge that those unions were just as sacred and important than our other ones.
Mrs. Warman had supplied us with all sorts of food from the larder before she left and I admit it was fun looking after ourselves as the four of us ventured down to the kitchens, placed the food on platters and carried it all up to where we would feast on a fine buffet when the guests arrived.
We first had to get ready for the momentous occasion. This wasn't an ordinary day— we needed to look the part. So, there we were in our bedrooms, putting on our finest evening wear to make the grandest impression.
George sat on the bed trouser-less, doing up his shirt and playing with Bartholomew simultaneously, whilst I stood at the mirror, tucking everything in and wondering whether I had put on weight in the year since I had become a married man. I breathed in, fastened nearly everything and then asked George to do up my cufflinks. I noticed that all of his buttons were done up wrong.
"Do you think the girls are doing this quicker than us?" I said, knowing they were. "The guests will be here soon."
"Hush, Toby. This is our time. If we choose to be late, it is our choice to do so. Besides, these are not ordinary guests attending an ordinary party."
Even though it had been my idea, I suddenly felt anxious. I dabbed my sweaty forehead with my handkerchief. "You don't think this was a mistake, do you? Was I being too frivolous? I mean, if someone in the village were to stop by?"
George took my trembling hand and kissed it. "My love, if anyone came to call, they would see four people hosting a party. There is nothing to suggest otherwise. Good clothes, fine wine, and dancing do not a criminal make. There'll be no orgies, well not unless the night takes that kind of turn."
At that precise moment, though I wish it hadn't been on the topic of orgies, the girls entered the room.
"Decent, boys?" Meg called.
"I'm never decent but come in anyway," George replied.
Meg laughed and then Sophia kissed me on the cheek. "You look almost as good as our wedding, dear."
"Almost?" I patted my stomach. "I've piled on the weight, haven't I? Be honest."
"I simply meant that last time we did this you were wearing full top hat and tails, the works. Now you still look very elegant of course but not like a real church wedding as such."
"Well we definitely don't want to look like that!"
Sophia and Meg looked starkly different from one another with Sophia opting for a glamorous royal blue dress with sparkling sequins, silvery embellishments and a matching headband whereas Meg wore a glittery gold top and a long skirt covered by a man's dinner jacket and hat to complete the ensemble.
"Couldn't decide whose wardrobe to dress out of eh? Sophia or George's?" I joked.
"Very funny." She punched me lightly on the arm.
I glanced at us all proudly as we stood there, may I say (apart from half undressed George with the buttons done up wrong), looking splendid. A lump formed in my throat.
"I can't believe it's been a year," I said.
A year since we'd lived together as a four. A year of being able to share a bed with the man I loved. A year of spending time with the three people in the world that made me the happiest. It wasn't always the perfect situation and hiding part of oneself was definitely a struggle but when I thought about the life I could have had. I shuddered. I was content.
"How have I put up with George this long?" Meg said as she sighed and placed her hands upon George's shirt, starting to undo the buttons.
"Hello? What's all this, you've never undressed me before!" George protested.
"Calm down, I'm re-doing your buttons, not getting amorous."
He looked down. "Oh goodness, I did them up wrong."
"You didn't think I actually fancied you, did you?" Meg said with a giggle.
"For one horrifying moment, I rather did."
I confess I enjoyed watching them tease each other and hand on heart I could see so much growth between the two— a friendship developing over the months— and I knew that as the years rolled by, they'd become even closer.
I was completely lost in my imagination again that I hardly even heard the sudden ring of the doorbell. Sophia however let out an excitable squeak and clasped her hands together.
"I'll get it," I said, "George be down in five minutes, wearing trousers!"
As I left the room, I could see Meg grabbing her camera and I knew she'd be snapping away all evening, trying to get the best angles. On this one occasion I didn't mind just as long as nobody stole the film, negatives, or used them in any way to incriminate us. People outside of the manor could be cruel and it was a cruel world at times. Our personal photographs were this time to remain private and protected.
I fast walked down the stairs. I never really had to walk so quickly before but knowing there was no Fettis to answer the door for me, I made hastily to the destination. I took a deep breath before I answered. It was the moment of truth. I opened the door and our first guests stood in the entrance. I recognised one lady as a friend of Meg's— a lady who wore chap's trousers, but the other two ladies were unknown to me. I assumed they were Meg's other friends she had met in Paris.
"Ladies," I said politely, leading them inside.
"Tobias!" Maria said. She was the one I had met. I kissed her hand.
"May I introduce you to Meg's other friends, Diane and Camille," she said.
I kissed each of their hands and took their coats. By the time I'd hung them up— the coats— not the people— my three loved ones had joined us in the main hall and everyone was kissing one another, Parisian style, as if we were on the continent. The doorbell then rang again, this time Sophia answered, and suddenly there was a handful of people there— namely Abdul, silent Michael, twin sisters Mallory and Vivienne and two other men looming in the background who I assumed were George's club pals from London.
He hadn't told me much of who he was inviting other than they were trusted acquaintances and seeing as they were dressed to impress, it was not a stretch for me to believe he had met them during one of his many visits to Soho. One man, Cecil, I vaguely recognised from a photograph but the other, Herbert, I did not. Cecil was a tall, thin and wiry man wearing a monocle and a rather deep shade of red lipstick and Herbert was wearing a woman's dress, frills and all. These were not men one easily forgot. Cecil proceeded to kiss George on the lips and knowing George was very fussy about who touched him, I knew they had been close at one time.
With everyone inside, I drew the hall curtains so that we were hidden from outside eyes.
Unlike our first party a year earlier as newly-weds, this was the real party we'd wanted to host. These were guests who knew us as the real us, and whether we stayed in contact only for a brief time or for the remainder of our lives, they were our very important allies on that day.
I walked over to silent Michael and shook his hand, having not seen him since our trip the beach the last summer. I expected him to still be silent but when I greeted him, he smiled and said. "Ya'll looking well. Looks like it'll be a swell party."
I was surprised he had a voice, and how pleasant it sounded with a deep gravelly Texan drawl. I was also surprised to hear he was making his way into the radio business state-side. With his talents, I was less surprised years later to find he made it big on the radio and was one of the most famous voices of our generation even becoming a war correspondent during World War II. But the biggest surprise of all came from not his face, his voice, his future career, but that he used said voice with great frequency. No sooner as we were introduced, he had told me about his wife, his children, his dog, his vacation plans. You name it, he told me about it. Silent Michael, no longer silent. In fact, he never stopped talking!
The party was all going rather swimmingly after that. We'd had a little food, we'd danced, we'd enjoyed one another's company and we were all ready for the union ceremonies when there was a sudden hammering upon the front door.
All our heads turned to look at it at the same time.
"Someone late?" Sophia asked.
But as I looked at the room full of guests, I couldn't see anyone missing. It was a small gathering, carefully chosen, people who knew our secret.
"Oh God, someone's found out," I said, a sudden panic consuming me.
"We're not actually doing anything wrong," George said, rubbing my arm. "We're just friends drinking and being merry."
"George is right," said Abdul. "We were used to uninvited guests in Paris, wondering what we were up to. The key is to stay calm. If you act nervous, they'll think we're all up to something."
"Besides this is the countryside not Paris, why would anyone think anything is going on?" Sophia said. She made her way to the front door but I pulled her back and made my way beside her. The sequins of Sophia's dress were sparkling under the lights of the chandelier and there we stood together by the door, ready to face our doom.
I cautiously opened the door, taking a big gulp at the same time. My heartbeat quickened when the first thing I saw was the glint of silver from a badge on a policeman's uniform. Oh God, they'd come to arrest us! I looked down at the feet in black heavy boots and then the dark trousers and then the navy-blue uniform jacket.
"Mr. Wells, are you alright?"
Finally, I looked at his face and realised it was PC Huggins, beaming widely like a chilling clown doll under his unruly moustache.
"PC Huggins?" I spluttered.
He took off his helmet. "I bet you're surprised to see me?"
"A little bit."
He barged passed me and chuckled when he saw the group of party-goers who were now congregated in the main hall wondering what was going on.
"Ooh a shin-dig! My, don't you lot look colourful."
I saw a quick glance from Huggins to Abdul and then a double-take from him as he caught sight of Diane wearing a man's suit and Herbert in a dress.
"Blimey, you lot like to do the whole fancy dress lark. Hope none of yous is dressed as a policeman. That's a criminal offence you know?"
Cecil laughed. "Actually, it's impersonating a policeman that's a crime, not simply dressing as one!"
Meg leaned in to me. "Good job, otherwise George would have been arrested multiple times."
"I won't ask how you know about that."
"Sophia and I have pinched his uniform many times." She smirked.
I didn't want to know what that sentence implied. Luckily, Huggins had not heard any of this! I'm not sure his heart was strong enough to withstand that kind of information. He was an ordinary sort, used to traditional values. His police duties were very little and he rarely came across any real danger or any unique situations that could question his moral opinions.
"Mind if I have a sarnie?" PC Huggins said, already eating said sandwich he took from the table. "Cor, that's a gooden. Congrats to the chef. Mrs. Warman in the kitchen, is she?"
"She's away," Sophia told him. "All of the servants are on two days leave."
"Are they really, Madam?" he said, looking at Vivienne and Mallory one after the other. "Am I drunk and seeing double or are you two twins?"
Vivienne held onto her cigarette holder with a delicate grasp and then took a slow drag before she exhaled the smoke into the policeman's face. "No darling, we're not related," she said with sarcasm.
"My mistake. It's incredible what make-up can do. You look so alike."
He then looked at Meg and Sophia who were standing arm in arm by the buffet table.
"When the servants are away, the masters will play eh? Normally it's the other way around!"
"They deserved a break. They're off to the seaside," I said, gently nudging the constable to the door.
"Even servants deserve happiness," George added, grabbing Huggins' other arm and trying to hoist this spare part from the property.
"Hold your horses here, boys. I think, seeing as you're all on your own that I should do my duty and take a look around, make sure everything's secure. No offense but your lot aren't the best at protecting yourselves."
We all stared at one another. Our lot of what and why wouldn't he leave?
He broke free from our grasp and began to make his way up the staircase. "I'll just check upstairs if you don't mind."
"Alright then, constable," I said, shrugging to our friends as they all sighed.
When PC Huggins was clear out of sight, we all gathered in a circle like witches in a coven, plotting over a bubbling hot cauldron.
"God, let's get rid of the stooge," Viv said as she hiccupped her way through a glass of wine.
"What you mean bump him off?" Herbert said, adjusting his frock. "I suppose we could give it a go!"
We all looked at him.
"This isn't one of your games of wink murder, Herbie, this is real life," Meg said.
"Well how else do we get rid of the bugger?" George said.
"Creativity my dear George," Abdul said, "always creativity."
...
There was a strange sort of excitement in the notion that the outcasts of society were bonding together to rid the house of the nosy pest, PC Huggins, our mutual enemy. Alright, maybe I was being melodramatic but that's what happens when a group of theatricals get together at the manor.
Sophia and I made our way upstairs to keep an eye on the over eager constable whilst silent Michael— or rather talkative Michael along with Meg and Mallory (the three M's) carried out Abdul's plan. I heard the door closing as they left the house.
"Is someone leaving?" PC Huggins said as he glanced over the bannister.
I think PC Huggins was secretly fond of the place and would rather patrol inside than outside in the pouring rain. From his rumbling stomach I didn't need to be a detective myself to conclude he was also disappointed that Mrs. Warman wasn't there to make him dinner. But he did, without asking, take another sandwich or two when he'd passed the table on the way upstairs.
"What is it you need to look at?" Sophia asked him.
"All in good time, little lady. So, who was that leaving?"
Why did he always ask us as though we were suspicious criminals?
"A few having a laugh I suppose," I told him. "You know arty types, very temperamental. Dancing in the rain and all that."
"Yes, Mr. Wells, I'm afraid I do know my arty types and that's why I need to keep a good eye out."
"It's really not necessary," Sophia said, "honestly our guests are good and decent people, maybe you could simply inquire in a couple of days' time about how the party went."
Sophia glanced at me and I could see her lip quivering. She rolled her eyes and I could see that even patient Sophia was losing it. She had been so excited about our day. She'd organised it so well and been in a cheery mood all week, singing and dancing around as though in love for the first time. She looked so enamoured by life, far more that the week she was marrying me. That week we'd all been so terrified that we were doing the wrong thing that we had been walking around like the un-dead. How different we seemed now. How alive, how full of hope for the life ahead.
Suddenly there was a telephone call that awoke me from my memory of the previous year.
"Oh crikey, who could be calling at this hour eh?" PC Huggins said, walking downstairs as though it were his own telephone.
"I'll get it," I said, heading downstairs quickly, passing the constable on the stairs and reaching for the telephone. I spoke into the receiver. "Hello, Mr. Wells speaking. How may I help? Ah, I see, I see." I held the phone to my side. "PC Huggins, it's for you."
"I say, I am a popular chap tonight." He snatched the telephone and grinned at Sophia as she linked arms with me, standing on the stairs, looking at each other with sly knowing glances.
"Right-o, Sir, right away." PC Huggins placed down the telephone. "Well, duty calls. Dangerous criminal at the station. I must love and leave you all but keep your eyes peeled for potential intruders."
Ever since the murderer in the attic, he'd really gone over-board on the protection. As PC Huggins left the residence, Michael, Mallory and Meg returned through the window like burglars and we all cheered, hugging and kissing one another in jubilation.
"I say, well done!" George said, clapping.
Michael laughed and then promptly re-enacted the scene of himself, Meg and Mallory in the telephone box in the nearby street. Michael had telephoned the manor under the guise of Inspector of police, complete with the Inspector's recognisable west-country accent, and Meg and Mallory had found it hard to control their giggles. It was all quite illegal for him to do so but desperate times called for desperate measures.
"He was wonderful," Meg said, "he sounded like the real inspector."
George grabbed Meg and carefully spun her around, his injured leg not seeming to deter him. "On with the rest of the show, chaps, on with the show!"
After I had stood on the doorstep and waited until PC Huggins had completely disappeared from view, I suggested we head to the conservatory where we could close the blinds and shield away any prying eyes at the back. We would dance with the ones we wanted, we would embrace and kiss those we loved and we'd share vows not of a religious or traditional nature but of a personal nature and of great importance to our own values—words that were written by ourselves for ourselves, for people like us the whole world over, people who could not do what we were doing, people trapped and imprisoned, neglected or hiding themselves. It was our secret love but love all the same.
We'd only just arrived in the conservatory when there was another hammering at the door.
"Who's that now?" Meg said, clenching her fists.
I was starting to worry it was a sign that this was never going to happen.
The four of us hosts moved like un-dead vampires to the door, standing in a line as Sophia opened it. I wished at that moment I could turn into a bat and float away, either that or bite the neck of whoever was on the other side. On that other side of the threshold was the very much not dead Lady Hendon. Of course it was! Who else could it be? Whenever there was something important happening, she was always there like a demonic being, clawing her way in, trying to be the centre of attention.
"Lady Hendon!" I gasped.
She looked at Sophia with horror in her eyes. "Good grief, has your butler been taken ill?"
"No, the servants are on holiday," she replied.
"How dreadful for you. Absolutely foolish to let your servants go on holiday. I mean it's silly to let one servant leave at a time but all of them together, well that is positively ludicrous."
"We manage well," I told her. "How can we help you?"
"I won't stop long, my driver's in the car," she said as she invited herself inside the house and slipped into the hall. "I'm afraid I'm here on a matter of some personal urgency. My son Gregory has quite gone missing and I wondered if any of you had heard from him?"
We all looked at one another. Considering he'd invaded our privacy, published Meg's photographs and nearly ruined us, how on earth did she expect that we'd know or care of his whereabouts? Besides, knowing Gregory he'd probably run off with someone's money or somebody's wife.
"Are you sure he hasn't run off with someone's money or somebody's wife?" George literally said aloud.
I could've died. Sophia and I nudged him whilst Meg stamped on his foot.
"The impertinence of that suggestion," Lady Hendon cried, her face turning red with anger. "Gregory is not in the habit of stealing anything from anyone."
"No, that's only his mother," George whispered aside.
"I say," she said, ignoring him completely. "I hear jaunty music. Is there a party going on? A Party with no servants, how positively queer!"
Before any of us had the time to answer she'd already sauntered off in the direction of the conservatory and for someone of seventy-years-of-age she had a very brisk pace as she'd already entered the room before any of us could catch up.
"A soiree indeed," she announced as she looked at our guests and then at the food. "How uncouth. No sit-down meal, no servants. How wild it is. And look at all your clothes, how very...quaint."
"Quaint?" Mallory and Vivienne mouthed to each other.
"I'm quite disappointed that you didn't invite myself and Lord Hendon," she announced to the group.
Sophia touched her shoulder. "It's more of a get together of old friends."
"Am I not an old friend?"
Maria laughed. "You're certainly old," she said quietly.
Dear God. What was happening? Was I being punished? Lady Hendon was never going to leave. George and I exchanged hopeless glances.
"Maybe we could bump her off," he whispered into my ear. "Gregory's missing, they'd assume he did it."
I laughed to myself but shook off the humour quickly. It was no laughing matter; she was ruining the most important day of our lives. And then it occurred to me. I knew one way to get rid of the old lady, one thing that would terrify her to the very core.
"Lady Hendon," I said, pushing her further into the room. "I'd like to introduce you to my friends. These are the...slightly older... Bright Young Things."
Lady Hendon's eyebrows rose to the heavens. "I beg your pardon?"
Knowing how suspicious the old lady was about these bright young things she read about in the newspapers, I had to take the chance, and true the last time we saw her that evening or in fact ever again was her running to her car in the rain, shouting at the driver to leave the house of declining morality. My friends could not believe what I had said. It was so unlike me. I, Tobias Wells admitting I was not traditional and belonged to a group of irresponsible, outrageous party-goers, knowing the town would believe what she had heard. Had I changed the perceptions of us again? How would people now perceive those of us at the manor? Would they believe her, after all, my 'Mr. Wells, squire of the manor' persona was very much honourable? I decided not to let that bother me in that moment. For once I would not fret. I would put myself first. We had a ceremony to perform and no-one was going to interrupt.
But then the doorbell went again. There was a chorus of sighing and moaning as instead of not answering it as George suggested, I followed Meg— who had her fists raised in the air ready for a knock-out— to the door.
I reached it before her and flung it open to find Gregory, Lady Hendon's son standing drenched and out of breath in the doorway.
"You have to help me!" he said.
"No, we don't Gregory!" Meg replied, raising her fists to his eyeline.
"I'm in trouble. I've stolen some money and run off with someone's wife. Have you seen my mother?"
I laughed. I don't know why but I couldn't stop. Soon Meg was laughing too and we just stood there staring at one another, not believing what was happening. Finally, I shook my head at him.
"Do you know what, Gregory? We're busy!" And just like that I slammed the door in his face.
Had I really done that? I felt a shiver run down my spine. Soon our guests were praising me. Meg was annoyed she wasn't allowed to punch him but still all in all I was the hero of the hour. George gave me one of those looks usually reserved for nocturnal activities.
"In that case," Meg said, grabbing Sophia's hand. "If there's no more interruptions, can we finally do this?"
We all giddily skipped to the conservatory and waited as Michael, our elected speaker, gathered his notes at the front of the room.
Abdul and Mallory grabbed cameras and began snapping away and soon there we all were, flashes of light in our faces as we made our way to where Michael stood in front of the other guests. They all held hands and flowers and watched with beaming smiles as we spoke the words we'd written to the ones we loved. The vows I had made to Sophia the year earlier meant much to me too but these words were more fitting to this gathering and I promised to obey and love George with all of my heart for the rest of my life. Sophia and Meg pledged the same and soon words became smiles, smiles became kisses, and kisses became group hugs. It was done. The unions were sealed. It was time to party!
No more interruptions. We were free. And we partied long into the night, clear of responsibility as though we really were those bright young things we had read about. By the time morning rolled around we were all asleep in the conservatory. Diane had a tile mark on her face where she'd fallen asleep on the hard floor and Herbert and Cecil were asleep together on one of the armchairs. Abdul lay rather majestically across the chaise longue with Bartholomew spread across his chest.
I spied Sophia and Meg huddled together under a blanket on one of the sofas and George and I had made a little nest of our own under the piano. It was all rather naughty but we didn't care one little bit. It seemed a shame we should have to spoil the fun.
...
The rest of the day was spent clearing up and one found an even greater respect for our servants after hours of us all scrubbing and tidying the mess. We said goodbye to our friends after dinner and thanked them all in turn for their help and most of all their support. True friends kept our secret and not one of them ever revealed it.
By the time they'd gone, it was late and the four of us were happy to retire to bed and have one last free night alone before the servants returned to their posts.
They arrived early the next morning, full of the happiness of a holiday, and we helped them with their luggage as though they were the owners and we their servants. We even gave them some tea and cakes for their arrival to which they were flabbergasted and grateful.
"How was the seaside?" Sophia asked and then let out a little squeak.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked her.
She was pointing at Eleanor's finger to where a gold ring glistened in the light.
"You're engaged?" I spluttered, unsure whether I was happy or sad.
"Christopher asked me in Brighton." She was gushing with Sophia as she showed her the ring. It wasn't a very sophisticated ring but then neither was Christopher.
"And how did you lot manage without us eh?" Duckett said. "Had any wild parties whilst we were away?"
I put my arm around Sophia whilst George put his arm around Meg.
"Us? Parties? We're much too boring for that!" I said, glancing knowingly at George.
...
Before we separated for the night, Sophia and Meg came into our bedroom to show us the photographs Meg had spent the day developing. There were dozens of pictures of all our friends, all the dancing and singing and dare I say, kissing. We would need to keep these hidden and so I would lock them away in a safe, somewhere only we four knew about, hidden away with the money and the jewels.
"I love this one," Meg said, showing us a photograph of the four of us standing together in our finest garments, all together ready to seal our unions.
It really was something. We now had two anniversaries. Both equally important and both days equally stressful for different reasons. But that photograph showed what a remarkable day that final one was. I still have that photograph, only now its on show in the living room, on top the piano for the whole world to see it. How times have changed. How little we got to know it differently. How much we'd never see. How much we went through.
But for now, this was our time. This was our manor and it wasn't just for convenience anymore.