1899.
The wind howled and rain battered against the windowpane of the old man’s parlour, making a moaning sound caused by the gaps in the rotten window frame. It also made the thick curtains flutter occasionally, bringing with it a cold breeze into the room.
The room was dark, lit only by the odd candle, the flame flickering, causing dark shadows and even darker corners. Portraits of long dead ancestors hung on damp stained, drab walls. The whole place was cold, damp and virtually uninhabitable. But it wasn’t, not yet.
The old man with white hair, sparkling blue eyes and wrinkled face, slept fitfully in a leather Queen Anne chair that was drawn up close to the fire that crackled and spat in the hearth, giving a warm glow that fought valiantly, but fruitlessly against the cold. A small table, only a foot square, sat against the chair that held a half drunk glass of port in a small crystal glass. Over the man’s knees was a tartan rug brought up close to his chest in an attempt to keep him warm, on the rug was a half read book resting on the old man's knees. apart from the crackling fire the room was quiet. Then the old man, startled, awoke.
Momentarily confused, the old gripped the armchair tightly, his gnarly old knuckles white, the dream that woke him was the same every night. A dream of days long past. Of a special friend, long dead. He stared into the fire, eyes remembering Summer days with Issac.
Summer was short this high on the moors, you learned to make the most of the sunny days so often spoiled by summer rain and the cold breeze that seemed to hang about for so long this high up.
2 brown horses chewed on the tussocks of grass, their reins hanging loosely around their necks, empty saddles on their backs, nearby 2 young men led next to each other.
Both men were quiet, quite happy to be in each other’s company. The only sound was of birdsong and the munching of the horses as they grazed. One of the men, a man called Issac turned and looked at the other called Baxter, he ran his fingers through his blond tousled hair. At his short yet neat beard, his eyes closed hiding his sparkling blue eyes, he ran his eyes down the sleeping man, at his slim yet lithe body his powerful thighs, at that bulge in his jodhpurs . At those riding boots, his half open shirt. then Baxter’s eyes opened.
Baxter looked up at Isaac, smiling slightly, his mouth half open, gazing into the dark eyes above him. He raised his arm to bring him down and kissed those inviting full lips. Issac willingly responded.
They pulled apart, Issac climbed over and straddled Baxter. Leant down and kissed Baxter again, his tongue entering his mouth. The kiss was passionate and loving.
Baxter looked at Issac’s hair, black as night. His shoulders were wide and strong, his hips narrow and legs long.
“Penny for them.” Said Baxter.
“You're beautiful.” Replied Isaac.
“You’re handsome, Isaac Brierley”.
“Thankyou Baxter Browne.”
Issac fell into silence and started to ride Baxter’s bulge.”
“Oh lord, you feel so good B B.” Baxter smiled at Isaac’s use of his pet name for him, the one he used when they were alone, the one that no one else knew about.
“You always feel so good. There’s nobody else for miles. Let’s make love.”
“What, here, now?”
“Yeah here, now. Right now, we both know we want to.”
Issac said nothing more and lifted himself off, and lowered his Jodhpurs.
Baxter stood and walked over to his mare, Bess and removed a jar of tallow. Then walked back to the waiting Issac. Lubricating Isaac with it. And dropped his Jodhpurs as well.
Isaac moaned as Baxter entered him. It was a manoeuvre that Baxter had done before and it never aged, it always felt as good as it had the first time, at boarding School. They were neighbors and had grown up together. They had always seemed to know each other.
The love making was loving and unhurried as they moved together in a joined harmony that only they knew. They completed each other perfectly. They held each other tightly. Foreheads touching, staring into each other's eyes. Isaac’s legs crossed on Baxter’s back as if locking him in place. That feeling as well, never aged.
They moved faster and faster, breathing heavily and laboured as they reached a crescendo of moans and groans. Isaac gripped himself and climaxed virtually at the same time as Baxter did, deep inside Isaac. Only the horses heard the loving couple.
Later, the 2 men stared at each other. Baxter got out his pocket watch and looked at the time.
“It’s almost 6, I’d better leave. We dine at 8. Captain, Mrs Smith and their Daughter Nellie are dining with us.
“Oh really? Why? Pray tell” Asked Issac sitting up sharply and looking at his friend.
“Father says it’s time for me to settle down, they’re of a view that Nellie will be my future bride.”
“She’s certainly a beautiful young filly.”
“I know but I want to marry you. You’re the only one I want”.
“Stop all this foolishness Baxter. You know we can’t marry. This thing we have between us is illegal. We can’t even be seen to be close to each other. I wish we could be together as well, but it’s impossible”.
“I know but a boy can wish can’t he?”
“Yes but that’s all it is, a wish, a dream, we will both be married one day. But we can still have these moments together. Now go. We will see each other tomorrow.”
They kissed then Baxter mounted Bess and rode off with Issac waving.
The old man looked into the fire as he remembered what happened next with a tear in his eye.
Baxter came to their meeting place the following day but Isaac didn’t show. Neither did he show the next day or the one after that. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months with no sign of his beloved Isaac. Then one day a letter arrived addressed to Baxter.
My dear Baxter.
By now you will be wondering what has happened to me. Well when I arrived home after the last time I saw you I was summoned into Fathers study, where Father and Major Glassinton were waiting. Father had decided that I was to go into the army and I was to leave with Major Glassinton immediately. I begged and argued with father, to at least to write you a note but to no avail.
This is the first time I’ve been able to put pen to paper. Father’s wrote to me but I haven’t replied. You were the first person I thought of, to write to. Well you and mother. I will write to her next.
I hope your meeting with Nellie went well. That you got on swimmingly. She’s a lovely girl and you deserve happiness. I miss you with all my heart Baxter. I wish I could be by your side at our place, but now I’m in India with the 1st foot of infantry. Not knowing when or if I will see you again. I must sign off now, as I’m due to go on patrol.
My sincere wishes.
Isaac.
Baxter put the letter down and wept. He realized that both he and Isaac had been set up. It was no accident that the very night Isaac was sent into the army, he was set up with Nellie. She was a beautiful girl, with long flowing auburn hair and green eyes that glowed with good humour. They had got on well, even courting, though with a suitable chaperone. And Formal introductions were being arranged. Though it didn’t heal the ache in his heart.
Isaac didn’t leave a return address, he guessed that was on purpose. He and Nellie did get on well; they were engaged and married 2 years later. Though the marriage was never consummated. Baxter confided to Nellie about his feelings for Isaac. She said she understood. Whether she went elsewhere for fun he never knew nor asked. They were best friends, though married ones and never had children.
His father died 2 years later of Consumption. His mother, 6 months after that. She never recovered from the death of her husband. Isaac wrote every so often. Never leaving a return address. Then one day a letter arrived from Isaac that changed everything.
My dear Baxter.
This will be the last time I write to you. The surgeon says I won’t recover. You see our patrol was attacked and I was shot in the stomach. I was rushed back to the barracks but it was too late. The surgeon didn’t operate. He said it was useless as I wouldn’t survive the night.
Now it’s going dark and I’m writing this to you. It’s the last thing I will do. My life is drawing to a close. So be happy with your dear Nellie. You're always in my thoughts. Please don’t forget me. Until we meet again my dear Baxter.
Issac Brierley
Baxter looked at the letter in his hand. The date read 4th April. That was 6 months ago. Now it's October. Isaac had been dead 6 months. He would never see him again. His dark eyes, black hair, slim waist and long legs. He would never see Isaac again.
“What’s wrong Baxter my love”. Asked Nellie as she walked into what was once his Fathers study. He wordlessly showed her the letter. Nellie held him, rocking him back and forth as he wept uncontrollably.
That was 50 years ago. Now a new century is just around the corner. And Baxter felt old and tired. He looked at the fire, now dying down in its hearth. He remembered Nellie, now long dead herself, Dying of cancer 20 years ago. Since then he let the house go to ruin. Life had been pointless for years. Although Nellie had been a close friend. She never replaced Isaac. His life had been empty since Isaac had been forced to join the army. The room, like the house, was cold, empty and so dark.
The door to his parlour opened. His manservant entered.
“Anything else sir?” He asked.
“No, nothing”. He looked up at the young man stooped in front of him. The old man spoke again. “Promise me one thing Aubrey”.
“I will try sir”.
“If you find love. Hold it close to your heart. Never let it go and hold onto it. With all your strength. Don’t let anyone get in your way.”
“I doubt I will find love sir.”
“Oh why's that? You're a good looking young man?”
“If I can be frank sir”. He said standing and reaching up to his full height. “My type of love is illegal”.
“As is mine my dear boy. Don’t worry now, your secret is safe with me. Now go into that draw, yes that one, there are some letters in there I want you to read. They were written to me years ago by someone very close to me.”
Baxter started to cough, Aubrey looked on, concerned, drawing the blanket up close.Finally the coughing fit subsided.
“You should go to bed sir.”
“No, I’m happy here. Make up the fire then leave me be”.
“Yes sir.” Aubrey made up the fire then left his aging master alone.
Baxter now alone stared into the fire. “It's past time I saw you again Isaac”. He said to the fire. He slowly settled down, closed his eyes and slept.
Upstairs in his room, Aubrey read through the letters his master had given him to read. His reading wasn’t great. But he persevered and finally as he put the last one down, he understood what his master had meant with his advice. He blew out his candle and fell to sleep. Dreaming he would find his love and hold onto it with all his strength, Ignoring the wind that blew threw the cracked windowpane.
The following morning Aubrey rose, preparing to see his aging Master. He worried that he should sleep in his bed, but he refused. Every night it was the same. He dined alone in the dining room then retired to his Parlour with a small glass of Port that he only drank half of. But he’s loyal. If that’s what his master wants,then that's what he gets.
He walked down the cold dark stairs and into the Parlour. For all intents and purposes it looked like his master was asleep. But somehow it felt different.
The fire had died down to nothing, ashes cold in the hearth. A dim light shone through dirt covered windows as Aubrey opened the curtains.
“Sir?” Aubrey said. “Sir," he said again, this time louder. Nothing, there was no sound from the old man, he didn’t stir. Aubrey tentatively approached. He felt his brow, then his hand. His skin was pure white, he was cold, so cold. Eyes wide open. He realized with horror the old man had died in his sleep. Though what was really concerning was that he had a smile on his face. A smile that seemed to Aubrey, like it was the type of smile that one had on one’s face, if you had met someone you hadn’t seen in years. He had never in the 2 years he had worked for him, seen the old man smile. Not once.
2025.
2 men in their 20s, wandered hand in hand around the ruins of a once grand house high up on the moors. The wind blew through the ruins making a moaning sound as if the ruins were in pain.
“It sounds like these ruins are in pain,Tye”.
“Don't be daft Seb, though it does kind of make you wonder of the stories these walls could tell.”
He took hold of Tye's hand and kissed it gently. Looking into his eyes. Suddenly Seb dropped down on one knee, taking a small box out of the pocket of his jeans.
“I know how much you enjoy walking these moors, as do I, so I thought this would be the perfect place to ask. Tye would you marry me?
Tye, with a happy tear in his eye, helped Seb up. They held each other, then kissed.
“Yes, yes, of course I will.”
The 2 young men kissed each other passionately, not noticing that the wind had dropped and the sun shone, as though someone, somewhere was watching and smiling down on them.
End.
