Note: Warning for homophobic language and discussion of conversion therapy

It was the late afternoon by the time they had made it back to the car and had driven a short distance into the town centre of Helston. They had almost forgotten, in their moments away from the rest of the world, that they had to get back before the shops and post office shut. The main street was on a hill with a shallow incline. There was a large Victorian Gothic style monument at the bottom of the street, at the entrance to the bowling green. Thomas momentarily wondered what the real purpose of this monument was, as it seemed a bit too grand to just be for the bowling green. He might have a look in the book Chris gave them later, the person who wrote that seemed to know everything about this area. The street was very wide. Cars could easily park on each side of the street with enough road left in the middle for traffic to pass each other without incident. There were a few cars and vans parked up. Some outside Georgian style townhouses that looked like they belonged to the upper middle class owner. Perhaps a banker or a solicitor. There was a van that parked up outside a bakery and bus outside a hotel. Richard parked close to the bakery, since that was their first stop. Thomas had also mentioned that they needed more eggs. They decided to split up for the moment, Richard going to buy a couple of loaves of bread, while Thomas headed in search of a grocery shop where he could find some eggs. It was better they completed these errands separately for a number of reasons. Firstly, it was getting close to five in the afternoon and most places would be closing soon. But more importantly, small towns like this know their locals and two men going to shops together might be seen as 'odd'. Thomas crossed the street, and looked down at his hand to notice he still had his ring on his finger. He felt self conscious and panicked for a moment, worried someone would notice and guess his secret, but then he realised he and Richard had an advantage here. They could in fact go about each day with a ring on their finger, no one knew who they were here, it would not be seen as anything to wonder about even if someone did see. They would just assume he was a married man. Which Thomas almost was, in a way, just not the way that other people would ever think.

They met back at the car about ten minutes later. Thomas smiled when he noticed Richard had given into temptation and bought two cream cakes as well as the necessary bread. Thomas blamed Chris, who had a habit of buying something tasty from the bakery each morning before opening the shop, for Richard's taste for cakes. "I'll put these on the floor in the back Mr Ellis," Thomas said. "I don't think the eggs will survive several miles of your driving."

"Good idea Mr Barrow, although you know I am an excellent driver," Richard said. He leaned into the glove compartment in the front of the car and pulled out the two letters that he and Thomas had written earlier. The post office stayed open a little longer than the other shops so they had left posting the letters until last. "Going to see if they sell envelopes here too, while we're at it. Might send Izzie a letter too, though it may have to wait until we get back now. The post to London is longer I expect, although it will give me something to do on the train," he said as they both walked into the post office that doubled as a small shop as well.

They were the only people in the post office, except for a woman behind the counter, who they assumed was the postmistress, and a woman who she was talking to. They were both clearly engaged in their conversation, and so they didn't seem to notice Thomas and Richard walk in. Richard found the envelopes he was looking for rather quickly and Thomas was happily browsing through a rack of colourful postcards. These would be nice to send back to Downton, he thought. He hesitated though as the one problem with a postcard was that your message is not hidden inside an envelope, and with a lifetime of hiding he didn't feel comfortable with that. He wondered if a simple message would be okay though, one that didn't give too much away. Something like 'Having a wonderful time, beautiful surroundings, wishing you were here-.' Though not the last part. As much as he liked his friends at Downton, he did not want them here as well. This is his and Richard's sort-of-honeymoon and it would be odd if everyone else was here too. He thought about asking Richard what he thought. However, a bold headline on the newspaper stand made him forget all about that:

'LOCAL MEN SENTENCED TO TWO YEARS FOR GROSS INDECENCY'

Richard had seen it too. He had only read the first few lines of the article, before he decided he didn't want to see anymore. They even printed the poor men's names, he thought. They will never be able to show their faces around here again. He felt his heart trip in panic, as their perfect world that they had glimpsed only a few hours before came crashing down around them. He looked at Thomas who caught his eye, his face trying to remain indifferent, but Richard, who has had five years of reading Thomas's expressions, could see the fear in his eyes. He wants to get out of here now, he thought as he saw Thomas look away from him. Richard looked at his ring on his own finger, They can't know what this signifies, he told himself. However, fear had a way of making it seem that your enemies would know everything about you, even when logic would dictate that it was impossible. Thomas hid behind a blank expression. Richard however, hid behind his charm. but even threatened to falter when he stood waiting to pay for his envelopes and stamps and heard what the two women had been discussing all this time.

"I knew them both as boys. They seemed like such good people," The woman on Richard's side of the counter said. "Just shows you can't know how people are going to turn out can you?"

"Very true. But it's awful to think they were among us for so long. And that one of them was a teacher among all those children. Among all those boys-," the postmistress said. Richard didn't dare glance behind him at Thomas who was near the door. He couldn't risk any reason for suspicion.

"We will have to pray that those boys were not influenced by him. That the impacts of his sinfulness were only limited to himself and that other man. They say that if you spend too long around those 'types' of people then it can be caught. I am only glad my son left school before he showed up there." Richard felt like screaming in anger, in frustration at how naïve, how cruel they were to people they had known for a long time by the sounds of it. It was going to be a struggle to just walk up to the counter and ask for two second class stamps, whilst maintaining his charming persona. But he had too, for him and for Thomas, who looked like he was ready to bolt out the door. If I can do that in a police station then I can do it in a post office, he said to himself.

Richard wished they would just stop. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. He wasn't sure how much Thomas could take of this. He's had it worse than me in this regard. But they had more to say: "The thing is though," the postmistress continued. "It is avoidable, they could have sorted themselves out. You hear of 'treatments' or 'cures'. They are advertised in that very paper I bet," she said pointing to the newspaper stand behind Richard. Richard automatically turned in that same direction, but was more concerned with how Thomas had now hurriedly left the shop.

"Sorry, I hate to interrupt ladies, but I must be going," Richard said, his face all smile. "Could I have two second class stamps please?"

"Of course," the postmistress said, her friend standing aside. Richard didn't know whether it was his own paranoia or if it was genuine but he could feel the other woman watching him, as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Those are for me to know and for people like you to never find out, he thought angrily as he handed over the change for the stamps with a smile.

"What's the matter with your friend?" the woman asked. "Ran out of here like he saw a ghost or something."

"Oh don't worry about him madam," Richard said calmly, although he was worrying about Thomas now. "He's just concerned about leaving the car outside unaccompanied for too long. It's not ours you see. It has been loaned to us by our employer and he would kill us if anything happened to it."

"You and your colleague are down here on business?" the woman asked. "Didn't think that was a local accent." God! Can't you mind your own business? Richard thought.

"We are madam, I know we could have travelled around by bus, but our boss is very particular on efficiency, and doesn't want us to have to waste our time, hence the car," Richard lied smoothly.

"What do you make of this?" the postmistress asked Richard, pointing to the newspaper headline. This is a test, a bit like the 'are you married? or 'got any children?' question, he thought.

"The queers will get what they deserve on the inside of a jail cell," Richard said, again calmly, though just as they did at the police station in York five years ago, the words tasted like acid on his tongue as he spoke them. But it was necessary.

Both women seemed satisfied at that, and Richard was glad that he was a smooth liar when he needed to be. "Anyway, I must be off. Have a good day ladies," he said as he left. He got into the car as soon as he could and wasted no time in starting the engine. Thomas didn't look at him, he was looking down at his hands, as though he was ashamed. "Let's get out of here," Richard said.

...

Later on, as the shadows outside grew longer and another day drew to a close, Richard was still very concerned about Thomas's behaviour. He'd hardly said a word since getting home. He had spent a while in the pantry, insisting that he was just going to 'tidy things up in there a bit' and that he could do that on his own. Richard wasn't concerned about Thomas lacking the smile he had worn for the past few days as he himself did not feel like wearing that right now much either. He had expected Thomas to snap at him or to lash out at something, because Thomas gets angry when he is scared. But there was none of that. Thomas just looked deflated or defeated. The fight was gone from him, and he always had that, even if he had nothing else. He ate dinner, with little enthusiasm. The cream cakes that Richard had bought, remained untouched by them both. Neither had the appetite for something like that now.

Richard was clearing up the plates as it got dark later on, Thomas had gone outside for a smoke. That action in itself told him that Thomas was dealing with something more here, as he only smoked when he was feeling really bad. He came back in later, looking tired. Richard was expecting him to come into the living room but he heard him go upstairs straight away. Richard didn't want to push him, but he couldn't sit around and do nothing while Thomas was hurting. He went upstairs in a while and found Thomas sitting on his side of the big red bed. "You can tell me to mind my own business darling," Richard said as he sat down next to Thomas gently, as if he was trying not to frighten an injured animal, "but I want to help if I can." Thomas sniffed and looked up at him. Richard noticed then. Oh God, he's been crying. He cursed himself for not coming up sooner. "Those women don't know a thing alright. I spun them a story and they fell for it. Hardly surprising they did really as they clearly didn't have an ounce of intelligence between them."

"That's good. 'S'pose we don't need to make a run for it then," Thomas said.

"No, not going anywhere," Richard said, putting his arm around Thomas's waist and pulling him close, kissing his neck.

"Thank you, you always know what to say. I would have messed it up," Thomas said.

"I'm worried about you," Richard said. "You don't have to say more, but if it is going to be plaguing you then it might help. You know I will never hold anything against you. I take your side in all things, always."

"Even if you find out I have been hiding something from you for all the time we've known each other?" Thomas asked.

"We can have our secrets. I have mine, and you have yours, but I don't ask for everything inside your mind because I love you and I respect you. You are your own man," Richard said.

Thomas looked down at the floor again. "That is what they said I wasn't."

"What do you mean? Who said that?" Richard asked.

Thomas sighed. "Do you remember how I told you about how I loved Jimmy once?"

"Yeah course."

"And how he had to leave and how that left me in a dark place?"

"Yeah."

"I've told you that. But you don't know how dark it was," Thomas said. He fiddled with his hands as he spoke. "I was in a good place when Jimmy was around. I may not have been completely happy, but I was better than I had been for a while because I had someone who liked my company. Not in the way I wanted him to like it, but it was enough. But then he left. Jimmy was my anchor and if you want me to use a metaphor- I sank without him holding me up." Thomas paused and Richard wondered if he would say anymore. "Everyone else had someone. Either as a friend or something more. People said they missed Jimmy, but they didn't really. I missed him. Or maybe I missed having someone. But I was fed up with being alone so I thought, if I could be more like other people, then I might be happier or at least have a chance at being happy with someone. There was a advert in the paper, a treatment that would make me 'normal'." Richard withdrew his hand from Thomas's when he realised what Thomas was talking about and why he had reacted the way he did at the moment he did in the post office earlier. Richard then realised how letting go of Thomas must have come across, and he immediately took Thomas's hand tightly again. "The doctor I saw in London, said that I wasn't a proper man. He said lots of things as they shocked me. It was supposed to make me feel normal, but all it did was make me hate myself even more. You've seen it- the scar on me, the one that looks like a purple dot?"

"Yeah," Richard said, finding it hard to get any words out.

"I lied to you. I told you it was a birthmark. It's not. It's an injection site. After I came back to Downton, I had some pills and injections that I took that were supposed to complete the treatment. All it did was make me feel very ill. The injection site became badly infected, probably because the needle was not sterilized, but I continued with it because I was desperate for it to work. I suppose I knew deep down from the beginning that it was a fool's errand, but I had no other option. So there you have it! I'm more messed up than you know and I lied to you." And as if a wall had been let down, Thomas burst into tears. No, no, no, Richard thought as he wasted no time in pulling Thomas back onto the bed with him, holding him tight as he sobbed onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry," Thomas sobbed. "Sorry I hid this from you."

"Don't be. Nothing to be sorry about," Richard whispered into his ear. Richard closed his eyes as he held him, and they just lay there for a while in silence, until Thomas became calmer.

"I was so stupid," Thomas said.

"No. No you're not. I'd say you were brave," Richard said.

Thomas pulled himself back a little so his face was no longer hidden on Richard's shoulder. He smiled a little, not much just a flicker, but it was there, and it was enough to warm Richard's heart again. "Phyllis said that too."

"She knows?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, she insisted on helping me. She was quite stubborn about that. Said I was brave," Thomas said.

"Well remind me to thank her when we return. She's a good friend," Richard said.

"Yeah," Thomas said. "I ruined your shirt Richard. It's all wet."

"Oh yeah, so it is. No matter, I can sort that I think. Former King's valet and all that," Richard said. He was rewarded by a bigger smile from Thomas now.

"Didn't eat those cakes you got either," Thomas said.

"You fancy them?"

"Yeah."

"Will you be alright here for a minute? I'll fetch them."

"Okay," Thomas said as Richard left and came back a minute later, with the box with the cakes in them.

"Don't suppose Larry will mind us eating cake in his bed?" Richard said.

"No," Thomas said. He felt like a weight had been lifted from him. He looked at Richard, licking cream off the cake a bit flicking onto his nose. He smiled and reached over to wipe it off. "Thank you."

Richard reckoned Thomas wasn't thanking for bringing the cake upstairs. "Don't ever let anyone ever make you think that you are not beautiful Thomas."