Chapter Three

"You've had your hair cut"
A visit to the barber's had been Maurice's first priority when they arrived in town, directly after he'd secured lodgings for the two of them in separate but adjoining hotel rooms.
"Well, I can hardly go looking for somewhere decent for us to live looking like a scarecrow, can I? No landlord would have me. Nor applying for jobs. I'll have to buy a suit tomorrow too."
"So you won't want me cutting it for you anymore then."
Alec's first inclination was to be obstinate and churlish about the short hair. Randomly balking at entirely trivial things was his way of showing his continuing lack of faith in the wisdom of this town experiment. He knew it was childish and it wasn't even as if he'd come up with a better suggestion for what they should do or where they should go - yet still he couldn't seem to help himself.
But then he took another look at Maurice - properly this time. With his hair cut like that he looked almost exactly like he had back at Penge, when Alec had first seen him, first known him in the Russet Room.
The memory had come back so strongly that he'd been obliged to take Maurice to bed at once, that very minute.
Alec smiled at the recollection. His mood was lifting, as it always did the further the omnibus got out of town. He rubbed condensation from the mirror for the half-dozenth time and watched grey slowly turn to green. He didn't like the built-up areas; they pressed in on his brain. If it wasn't for Maurice he'd be away in a flash.
Having said that, things had certainly taken a turn for the better lately. He'd looked about, and found a situation as groundskeeper, gamekeeper and general odd-jobs man all rolled into one at a smallish semi-rural estate just outside town. So he was pretty much back where he'd started, but anything was better than butchery. It meant an omnibus ride to the end of the line and a long walk after, making his day even longer than it had been at the meat-market but he didn't care; he never thought he'd be so happy to chuck a job.
The house Maurice had found for them was nice, too, he had to admit. Even his little flat underneath that he didn't actually live in was far better and more modern than anything he'd ever imagined inhabiting. But he still felt uneasy about it, mainly because it was Maurice who'd paid for practically everything. He'd always known Maurice had more money than him - it was obvious, but he preferred not to dwell on that reality. After all, in the woods they'd worked and earned their meagre wages shoulder to shoulder, and he could almost imagine that they were equals.
Never mind. You're doing your bit, he told himself as the mostly-empty omnibus drew to a halt and he jumped off before the gathered horde of bowler-hatted businessmen headed for the city could trample him underfoot.

The walk was quite nice in the crisp morning air; he smoked a cigarette and arrived at the back door for orders at eight o'clock sharp. Mr Chisholm, the elderly bachelor owner and his widowed sister Mrs Sharpe were good enough sorts. The old boy kept dogs which pleased Alec, and showed almost no interest in the running of the place as long as everything kept ticking along smoothly, being almost entirely absorbed by horse-racing and his club. She was not over-fussy and didn't go round with a look on her face like she had a poker up her arse like the old lady back at Penge. In fact, Alec suspected she partook of rather more of the medicinal brandy than strictly what the doctor ordered. Today there were no special instructions, just his usual duties - look after the dogs, check for rabbits and other vermin coming in from the fields beyond the estate, cut the west lawn and rake up leaves. So the morning passed uneventfully enough.
His peace wasn't to last, though.

Just as they were getting up from servant's luncheon Mrs Brown the housekeeper brought in the new lady's maid for them to meet - the former having left to get married. Neat, trim figure, swept up brown hair, startled deer-like eyes.
Milly.
You could have knocked him down with a feather.
"How have you been, Alec?" Milly held out a small hand to shake. She looked much the same. Wore a wedding ring, but had that air of sadness and loss about her that was so familiar these days.
"Good. Yourself?"
"Very well, thank-you." Her voice was quite calm but her eyes were still wide with shock.
"So you two know each other?" Mrs Brown enquired with a certain questioning archness in her tone that Alec didn't care for one bit.
"Uh, yes - we worked at the same estate years ago." When they'd said yesterday that a Mrs Millicent Carthy was starting as lady's maid today, of course he'd never thought of little Milly Pearce, from all those years ago.
"Well, that's nice. It'll help Milly settle in if she already knows someone. Now, dear, let me show you Madam's rooms." Milly followed Mrs Brown out meekly enough, but not without throwing Alec a quizzical glance back over her shoulder, as she headed on up the back stairs.

He was cutting dead wood off some of the fruit trees that afternoon when she caught up with him.
"Alec." She crossed her arms. Even in her thick winter coat she looked small and vulnerable, though he knew she had steel enough to get by. "Well. This is quite a surprise."
He looked down at his feet.
"You've nothing to say for yourself, then?"
He looked back at her, struck quite dumb - which didn't happen to him often. They were so far away from Penge; he'd never thought to see anyone he knew here, let alone her.
"Just disappearing, without a word."
"It were wrong of me, Milly, I know it."
"I might at least have expected -" Her voice choked a bit.
"I know. I should've written."
"And your poor parents. They came up to Penge to try and find out what might have happened to you. We were all so afraid you were the victim of some kind of foul play. Eventually Mr Durham had a quiet word with your pa, said he had it on good authority that you'd skipped off."
Alec blanched. "Skipped off how?"
"Just skipped off, he said. You should know. You're the one as did it...why, Alec?"
He just scraped one foot through the loose gravel of the path and said nothing. His poor parents, worried that he'd had an accident.
"Surely you will at least do me the honour of telling me now, though it's far too late to mend the hurt you caused."
"I - I changed my mind about the Argentine. But they weren't going to take no for an answer, 'specially Fred after he'd paid so much for my fare. I reckoned he'd end up press-ganging me onto that ship the way he was talking, so I just left." Alec felt sick as he said it; blaming his family for his own wrongdoing.
Her expression was unsympathetic, to say the least.
"I was just a kid, Milly."
"So was I!" She spat the words out, spun around and ran back for the house.

Milly was live-in but had gone to her room early so Alec stayed on for servant's dinner and a few glasses of ale with the men-servants, as he always did of a Friday night lately- it had become something of a habit. Because Maurice now had a habit of his own. He'd taken to dining with Mr Stanton at his club - or even his home - most Fridays. And most convivial it was, Alec was sure.

Alec only just made the last omnibus and when he got home Maurice was already in bed. He crept in quietly as could on stocking-feet, until he saw the glowing red ember of a cigarette floating disembodied in the darkness.
"Not asleep?"
"Can't."
"How was dinner at the club?" He couldn't help putting on a silly posh accent as he said it.
"Quite nice actually."
Alec undressed quickly and jumped in; it was cold tonight. Maurice passed him the cigarette.
"You'll never guess who started work at Old Chisholm's today."
"Who?"
"Only Milly."
"Milly?" Maurice sat up straighter in bed. "The maid from Penge?"
"The exact same. The one you saw me kiss."
"Didn't you almost - "
"No, I didn't almost," lied Alec. He sat up and passed back the cigarette. Maurice was silent.
"What did you tell her?"
"Not much. She didn't really ask me anything, just went mad at me about upsetting everyone. Apparently my people came searching for me."
Maurice put his arm around Alec's shoulder. After a while he asked, "What on earth is she doing here?"
"Dunno. Didn't get a chance to ask her, she went off on her high-horse."
"You don't think she still holds candle for you, do you?"
"Don't be daft. Looks like she's been married and widowed since I last knew her."
"Still, you're a good-looking boy, if you hadn't noticed - "
"You worried?" Alec reached over in the dark and took the cigarette out of Maurice's mouth, stubbed it out in the ashtray by the bed. "You shouldn't be."
He moved across and settled himself on Maurice's lap, straddling him. "How can I convince you I'm yours? I'll do anything..."
Maurice's breath was hot on his neck. "Anything?"
"Anything."

The next day their paths crossed in the garden again. He made to pass her by with just a nod of the head but she stopped him, put her hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry I was so short with you yesterday."
"No, it's me needs to apologise, Milly. To a good many people."
"Well. Let's just let bygones be bygones anyway."
Milly asked him where he was living; he said he was boarding in town. She followed that up by enquiring, of course, as to why he wasn't living-in to save money. He said he wanted the freedom to do as he pleased in his own time and she accepted this male prerogative without question.
After all, he wasn't twenty any more; his every step dogged by Father, Mr Borenius or old Mr Ayres. It was almost as if they'd collectively sensed there was something different about him, something they could neither understand nor control and they were desperate to get him safely pushed into a box before he left their sphere of influence for good. The pressure to propose to Milly had grown ever more intense those last few days. What with that and fretting constantly about Maurice, it had all just about done his head in.
Maybe it wasn't such a complete lie to say he'd been escaping from his family, after all.
"What brings you here anyhow, Milly? It's a long way from Penge."
"Oh! Well, my whole family comes from round here originally. Mum and Dad decided to move back to be nearer my aunts and uncles and so I decided to come with them. I had nothing to keep me there."
"And nobody?" His tone was searching.
She glanced down at her ring finger. "No. Edward was killed in the war. We'd only been married a month when he went."
"I'm sorry."
She forced a smile. "Well. It's a sorrow I share with a thousand other women isn't it. We have to get on, now. But you, Alec - not married? I can hardly believe it."
"I'm not thirty yet. Plenty of time."
"Hmm."

After a few more days of regular chance encounters, Alec realised she was seeking him out. He wondered with sinking heart what he should do. Make up some pretend engagement? Hand in his notice - which he didn't want to do. He liked it here, it suited him well. He wasn't about to tell Maurice, anyway. It would only worry him. He knew Maurice had a ridiculous fear, which he tried without total success to keep well-hidden, that because Alec had been with girls before they met he'd somehow be drawn back one day. He didn't seem to worry about other men though, from what Alec could tell. He was a funny creature sometimes and Alec loved him for it. But it was best not to mention the Milly problem to him, best to deal with it himself somehow.
Somehow.