Page 23 of He's the One

Col was shown back to the visitor café. He begged pencil and paper and sat with a coffee while he composed a letter.

Hi Dominic,

I came to see you today but when I got here, they told me I couldn’t. I don’t know what happened but please stay safe. Dr Morris said he was recommending you transfer to Marsden. I’ll come and see you next Sunday. I can’t come on the Saturday because I promised I’d go to the Asquith Show. I’ve entered two of the photography classes. I’ll draw one of the pictures I’m submitting. I hope they get it.

Col sketched out the photo of the hens.

You’re close to release, I know it. You can stay with me. Everything will be okay.

Love Billy

Chapter Six

The day of Asquith Hall’s annual show finally arrived, much to Theo’s relief, though it was more a matter of getting it over with than him actually looking forward to the event. It followed the same pattern every year, and although Theo had been asked to suggest a few different elements, his ideas had been shot down as usual.

No to duck herding.

No to a petting farm.

No to a small fair.

And no to Theo’s favourite idea, which was a farriering race with teams competing to be fastest to un-shoe a horse, forge a replacement and complete a reshoe. Lots of guys getting hot and sweaty sounded fun—to Theo at least. Not to anyone else apparently.

He had a breakfast meeting with his father and Dastardly so he hurried to get ready. Dastardly had forced Theo’s involvement in the organisation of the photography classes and the promises auction. He suspected his boss had chosen things which would be hard for him to cock up, which was not his usual MO. Most of the time he was pretty sure Dastardly wanted him to fail so he could rush in and sort things out. Theo’s father certainly thought Dickhead was indispensable, but that was probably because Dastardly made sure he looked indispensable.

Theo wasn’t allowed to be a judge. He wasn’t trusted enough for that. Probably because his choice wouldn’t be the one most would make. All he had to do was make sure there was a table ready for the photos, provide number stickers to attach to the table next to the photograph so the contest was anonymous, and ensure the judge knew where she had to go and when, then collect her judging form once she’d filled it in and make sure it got into the hands of Mrs Collins, the person awarding the prizes.

He wasn’t yet sure what he’d be expected to do organisation-wise at the promises auction but he’d already been forced to promise something, and not ‘afternoon tea for four people hosted by Lord Theo Wetherby,’ as Dastardly had suggested, or ‘dinner and dancing at the Ritz,’ as his mother had proposed. Theo knew she’d have made sure who bought that. The father of Charlotte Roeburn.

Much to Theo’s frustrated despair, his mother, and in particular, his grandmother expected him to marry and produce an heir, despite knowing he was gay. The answer to that had been and still was—Why would that make a difference? It never used to and it still doesn’t. You can marry, have a child, more than one, and do what you like in private. We will not have this discussion again, Theodore.

Charlotte Roeburn’s name had been first mentioned a month ago and it was as if his mother and grandmother had already married him off. Theo wasn’t going to marry. Not a woman anyway. How cruel would that be to both of them? And the idea of marrying a guy when he’d never even been out with one, let alone been kissed, seemed as likely as him winning the lottery. He still bought a ticket each week. Total winnings so far—zero. He had high hopes for his hundred pounds of Premium Bonds but nothing from them either.

He made his way towards the house, which was closed to visitors for the day. All the staff were needed elsewhere. There were plenty of ways to make money from people who came for the show, even though Asquith would share part of the profits with the local Women’s Institute. The estate ran a beer tent and a hog roast that were always popular, as was the sale of plants cultivated by the gardeners. The gift shop was open for business as usual, and two cafés and the Terrace Restaurant, for those who wanted more than a roast pork sandwich. Though Theo was going for cake and tea offered in the WI marquee.

His father and Dastardly were already halfway through eating when Theo walked into the breakfast room. Was he late? Dickhead made a show of checking his watch, so Theo checked his. It wasn’t yet eight. So how come…

“You’re late,” his father said.

“I thought we—”

“Get some food and sit down, please.”

“Dast—Darnley told me eight o’ clock,” Theo said.

“I said seven thirty, Lord Theo.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. I…” Theo caught the look on his father’s face and shut up.

He took the chair across from Dastardly, who was talking about the repairs being done on the East Wing and how the work was near completion. Theo’s heart thumped hard.

Yesterday, he’d finally plucked up courage to ask one of the masons about Col and been told he’d been let go due to overstaffing. A couple of months ago, Nyman asked for more money for the roof and extra masons. Now he’d got rid of one before the job was complete? If he found Dastardly had anything to do with Col’s dismissal… But what could he do? Col was gone. That was that. And Theo was disappointed.

“Are you listening?” his father asked.

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