My Home From Home - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

1 May 1921
Dear Diary,
There's something about the bleakness of winter melting away to reveal the warmth of spring that gives one a sense of hope; like the sun rising after the darkest hour of night, like flowers blooming over the thawed out soil. Though spring couldn't come soon enough for me, the warmth, or relative warmth, rather. I daresay the weather is a bit like an English spring, just less damp and comparatively more sunshine.
But just as the seasons change, bringing new beginnings and new life, one can't help but shake this omnipresent sensation deep within one's soul that change is coming. As the grey skies. plagued with snow clouds of a long, seemingly unending began to become less prevalent; the harsh winter finally ends its icy reign and the warm sun shines once more.
We had a particularly warm day in late April, Thomas told me he had a surprise for me one afternoon; taking me on a ride through the prairie and into the woods adjacent to Fir Creek. I'm sure I did his head in asking time and time again where exactly we were going, but the only answer he'd give me was a cheeky smile with the words, 'Wait and See.' And if I may say so, it was well worth the wait.
Through the thick of the forest I could hear the sounds of a rushing brook in the distance, the sound of birds echoing through the trees paired with the crunching of things under the hooves of our horses. One was only naturally weary as we ventured farther and deeper into the wood and farther from civilisation; just the two of us alone and free to simply be.
He finally stopped us in the middle of a dense thicket, and I shan't deluded you by saying that I wasn't a bit underwhelmed in the moment; though seeing as Thomas had one of those dimpled smiles plastered across his gorgeously chiselled face, I knew there was more to come. He slipped a blindfold over my eyes, which if I'm being honest I've grown quite accustomed to. Though I've never told him that I absolutely detested surprises, there's something about the way he'd smile like a child on Christmas that made me start loving surprises more and more with each passing time, solely because I knew it made him happy.
When he finally led me to our destination and removed the blindfold, I couldn't help but smile as I looked round to see a beautiful little clearing covered with a plush emerald green grass below and a rushing bubbling brook and trees above that a allowed just the right bit of light to filter through. It was like something out of a painting; a small slice of heaven well off the travelled road, obscured from prying eyes yet somehow counterintuitively open. And as I gazed at the creek I realised I'd been here before; it was the same clearing Thomas had brought me to months prior, only now the snow and ice had melted to reveal hints of green rebirth peeking past the thawed soil.
Though the last time we'd been there, my mind was on other thing and our conversation took a more pressing turn; thus leaving my memories of the scenery around the clearing rather muddled. Thomas went on to recount warm cherished memories me he discovered it when he was a child longing for solitude as he mulled over his differences and feelings that contrasted from those around him. He told me he'd come here whenever he wanted time to himself or simply to escape from the world. But now he said that I was his escape from the world, he wanted me to see this secret he'd kept to himself all these years.
And since then, as the weather warmed up and summer began to peek it's heard up over the Canadian Prairies; rather slowly one might add, we'd escape here whenever we could. Some lazy weekend afternoons we'd spend snuggled under the shade of the trees as the light permeated through the leaves to bathe us with it's warmth, and some nights we'd escape here to lay in the grass and gaze up at the stars that twinkled in the night sky under the cleansing moonbeams.
Here in our little slice of heaven, tucked away from the world's prying eyes, Thomas and I throw caution to the wind. We let ourselves melt in each others' embrace, our skin against one another, truly free of any inhibition that society has placed on us. One always fancied oneself to be a rebel, but I find with Thomas, I do things that even the old Henry Aldringham would've blushed at the thought of. Perhaps that is love, love for a man who I still haven't plucked up the courage to say those three words to. 'I love you'.
Love, Henry
Henry cursed under his breath realising he'd left his blotting paper at his desk and neglected to bring it along for his little excursion into the wilderness with Thomas. The first blooms came in early March and Thomas joked that they'd come earlier than usual just to stop Henry from constantly complaining about how 'bloody long the winters here were'.
Henry smiled as he took in the view around him; a quaint little oasis that was only his and Thomas'; the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle spring breeze causing the tree limbs to sway and the soothing sound of water cascading over the smoothened stones and pebbles of the brook that flowed through the clearing.
He blushed as he glanced to the side to see Thomas napping peacefully next to him on the picnic blanket; his head cocked to the side opposite henry and his tranquil, handsome face obscured by the mess of golden blond hair. His chiselled, musclebound body visible and the sweat of the deed they'd just done evaporating off his manly chest and arms as a blanket strategically placed covered his love body
Henry chuckled to himself bashfully, turning his gaze back towards the brook ahead as he allowed his mind to simply lull into a trance staring blankly at the mesmerisingly crystal clear water as it flowed along its path; utterly unbothered by the two lovers laying in bliss by it's banks. He felt Thomas roll over beside him, though he was far too deep in thought to glance over; thinking about the future, about what his relationship would look like in the future.
He told himself time and time again that his relationship with Thomas was special, but he knew it was foolish to think anything permanent of it; Lord Henry Aldringham's life was back home in England in the gaiety of aristocratic life whilst the heartbreakingly handsome Constable Wilson would likely have his pick of beautiful young girls who'd help give him a family whilst caring for Danny and Alfie.
In Henry's mind, he'd long convinced himself that his love for Thomas was best kept within, simply to avoid the inevitable; one day these two lovers, in his mind, would be pulled apart by the fibres of normalcy, a hateful society, and their situations. So he thus he told himself to simply enjoy the present, for the future wasn't promised and even should there be a future for Thomas and Henry; what would that look like? Though there were places where their relations were legal, nonetheless there were no countries in 1921 was it normal, or necessarily accepted for two men to simply live and die together in harmony as a family. Or at least, none that were open enough about it for Henry to be aware of it; one of the importances of visibility and representation in society.
Henry moaned as he felt Thomas lips on his lower back, placing kisses over his soft exposed skin and working his way up towards his shoulder. Between kisses, he glanced over Henry's shoulder to see his diary opened up with his fountain pen in the gutter to keep it open; the gentle wind causing the thin parchment pages to quiver ever so slightly. Thomas ran his strong hand through Henry's lightly tousled raven black hair, grabbing a fistful and playfully tugging his head backwards to expose his supple soft skin before nuzzling the nape of his accessible neck.
"You know I'm jealous of that diary of yours." Thomas smirked teasingly, planking over Henry so that the smaller man could turn over onto his back and look up at him.
"Oh?" Henry cocked an brow as Thomas lowered himself down onto his forearms. "Why ever would one be jealous of a book?"
"Because it  knows everything I wish I knew." Thomas growled huskily as he leant in to kiss Henry on his lightly parted lips. "It knows everything going on in that pretty head of yours." He said as he ran his fingers through Henry's raven black hair.
"We really ought to get going." Henry changed the subject, knowing full well the diary knew a lot more about his true feelings than he was ready to tell Thomas; what he whispered when he knew the man was sleeping, what he chanted in his mind with every second that ticked past and every heartbeat that drove blood through every artery, every vein, every capillary. What he felt with every fibre of his very being, every muscle, every sinew; 'I love you'.
"There's no rush...." Thomas whispered raising his head off of Henry's neck to look into his deep blue eyes; a smile tugging on the corner's of the handsome blond's lips as he reached up to push the dark hair that'd fallen into Henry's face. "It's Friday, we're both off duty, Emily and Mary are looking after the boys. We've got the evening to ourselves. We could do whatever we want. We could do what we did earlier again?" He offered cheekily, earning him a playful glare from the slender lad beneath him. "Or..."
"Or?" Henry's curiosity peaked as he could practically see the gears turning in Thomas' head.
"Rip a sheet out of your diary, I'll be right back." Thomas leapt up quickly, and shuffling towards the trail of clothes strewn about that led street out of the clearing where the horses were parked; Henry's tweed suit and trousers, shirt and underwear mingled amongst Thomas' scarlet uniform and hastily fished a pencil out of the pocket. Henry followed his directions without so much as asking a question, ripping a clean sheet of paper out of his diary and handing it to him with the diary underneath to support it.
"Tom, what are you doing?!" Henry chuckled bashfully, partially amused by the scene of Thomas slipping on his underpants and sitting down under a tree with practically no clothes on as he propped one leg up to support the paper and pen. The other part of him couldn't help but have his eyes drawn to the way Thomas' perfectly striated, strong, musclebound body seemed to ripple and flex with even the most minute movement; form his defined chest, his bulging biceps, and sculpted shoulders all the way down to his perfect abdominals. Henry dared say that Anatomy lessons at Oxford would've been even more interesting had Thomas been there to help with revision.
"You'll see..." Thomas gave him cheeky smile. "Just... follow my directions and I think you'll like it. Tell me if you're uncomfortable and we can stop at any point, alright?"
"Alright..." Henry blushed softly as Thomas narrowed his gaze as he bit his lip in thought, glancing towards him as though assessing something or the other. Like a true artist he gave Henry directions, telling him to put on only his underpants and sit down naturally and stare off at the scene before him, which Henry blindly obliged. Had someone else asked he'd likely have slapped them though he trusted Thomas in that moment and felt inexplicably safe bearing it all before him.
"Perfect..." Thomas smiled as he finally got Henry in a position he wanted; staring out towards the water as lounged leisurely over the blanket, his perfectly toned, slender body serving as Thomas' muse. "You're so beautiful...Now hold very still until I tell you." Thomas said breathily as Henry heard the indelible sound of pencil lead moving across the paper; he heeded his words docilely, staying absolutely still as the moments seemed to pass. And though Henry hated getting portraits done as he felt them a terrible waste of time, he couldn't help but feel the time pass so much faster than he'd expected as he lost himself back in the world of his mind, staring mindlessly out towards the flowing brook.
"And... done." Thomas said as he made the final dot on the paper, prompting Henry to relax from his pose with a relieved huff as Thomas leapt up and made his way towards Henry to kneel down before his beautiful muse‌. "Here. I-I hope you like it..." Blushed Thomas sheepishly as he handed the sheet of paper to Henry.
Henry smiled at how innocent he looked in that moment; blushing as though he were a schoolboy trying to impress the one he was smitten with. Taking the sheet of paper between his fingers he gently brought it towards him, an awe filled sharp intake of air escaping past his lightly parted lips as he took in perhaps one of the most beautifully sketched piece of art his untrained eye had seen; the shading, pure perfection and the detail captured in such a remarkably short time, absolutely breathtaking. From the shading of the rays of the sun, to every muscle and curve of Henry's slender half-naked body, his sleek black lightly windswept hair, to the glimmer in the water and the sunbathed of the trees Thomas somehow managed to capture it all so beautifully.
"Tom, this is absolutely remarkable." Henry gasped breathily, glancing in pure awe between Thomas' satisfied visage and the sketch in his hands. "You never told me you could draw!" He stared up at him his sapphire blue eyes widened in surprise.
"It was a hobby I had as a kid." Shrugged Thomas as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I would come here and sketch things I'd see; trees, fish, birds, animals. I sort of lost it along the way as I went off to university and then started working as a lawyer in the city. Then the war happened, and what-not... I guess I forgot I even had it in me... until I saw the way the sun hit your body just then..." He leant down and brought his face mere inches way from Henry's, lovingly stroking his cheek with his thumb. "You're the first person I've ever drawn, so I guess in a way you inspired me."
"Well, in that case." Henry bit his lower lip as he stowed the painting safely between the pages of his diary before turning back to Thomas. "Since we've no-one expecting us for a jolly while... Perhaps I should give you a bit more inspiration?" His eyes darkened with lust as he playfully fiddled with the waistband on Thomas' pants.
"I think I'd like that." Thomas smirked, before playfully pinning the dark haired man onto the ground as Henry let out a mischievous giggle. "I'd like that very much." Thomas growled lowly into Henry's ear before smirking into yet another kiss. For in this little slice of heaven of their own, they were able to exist without the fear of society judging them or ostracising them; in this little oasis they found themselves able to be exactly who they were without any fear or any inhibitions...
They rode back into town as late afternoon descended upon the prairies; the golden wheat stalks swaying in the sun as the clouds in the distance painted the most picturesque scene. Travelling at a leisurely trot, they took their sweet time traversing the trek back towards Fir Creek. Henry felt this strange feeling in his heart as his eyes squinted towards the horizon; there was something so idyllic about the landscape he saw before him with the barns and silos, family cabins and cows grazing the fields they passed along their way. Henry felt this to be his home from home, but a part of him felt this tugging in opposite directions as though far across the land til the sea and over the deep blue Atlantic he had a home that he felt equally drawn to as the home from home he'd found here.
It wasn't long before they rode into town, waving at friendly townspeople who stopped to speak to their beloved town Mountie and their now equally admired young Doctor. It seemed as though in the such short time he'd been in town, Henry had managed to carve a niche for himself in this little town; whose townsfolk's hearts starkly juxtaposed the cold long winter they'd just emerged from.
"Constable! Doctor! Good evening!" Henry and Thomas pulled at the reins to stop their horses in their track; they were right in front of their house as they heard a voice beckon from the divided front porch leading to the police station and the clinic. It was the town postmaster, Mr Graeme.
"Evening, Mr Graeme." Thomas tipped his hat politely to older man as Henry gave him a polite smile.
"And a lovely one at that, eh?" Mr Graeme smile at the two men on horses with cordial nods. "It's actually good that I'd caught you both" He said as he descended down the oaken staircase and down onto the gravel road treading towards Henry and Thomas whilst reaching into his postman's satchel for something. "Just as I was about to close the post office, a telegram from England came through for you, Dr Dunmurry and curiously enough I happened upon a letter in the bottom of my satchel for you, Constable."
He handed a folded up slip of paper to Henry and a small off-white envelop with British stamps on the corner to Thomas, both thanking him as Henry stuffed it into his breast pocket, whilst thomas tensed his jaw reading the address elegantly penned onto the quality stationary, hastily stashing it away into his coat pocket as well.
They bid the cheery old postmaster a good evening before taking Trooper and Midnight to the stables. Henry rushed into the house practically feeling the anticipation bubbling into him as he made his way into the drawing room and pulled the telegram out of his pocket; he knew if it was a telegram from home it likely had information that needed to be conveyed at the utmost urgency. He unfolded it feeling his heart practically beating through his chest as he read the words "Canadian Telegraph Company' across the top and the Telegram's contents below.
Middlesex, England
20 April 1921
Trial officially concluded and all those apprehended have been questioned and sentenced to serve jail time. Stop. No mention of your name in any sense during any part of the trial proceedings. Stop. It is safe for you to come home. Stop. Sort out your affairs there forthwith and telegram with details on when you wish to return and Papa will book your crossing home. Stop. God speed, dearest little brother. Stop. Your loving brother, Matthew. Stop.
"God in Heaven." Henry muttered under his breath as he sunk down onto the sofa, feeling a numb ringing within his body. It was surreal, and almost nauseating how many conflicted feelings he felt in that moment; but the greatest two being happiness to be returning home, and dread to be leaving what he now deep inside felt was his home from home.
His heart began to race, as he rested his hand over his mouth feeling the corners of his lips twitch upward into a smile. He felt this feeling of happiness in his heart paired with a starkly contrasting the deep dread he felt in the depths of his entrails. He longed for his family in that moment but the only faces he saw flashing in his mind were of Thomas, the boys, memories they made, memories he'd cherished.
A part of him knew his little daydream of a life here in Fir Creek was merely that; a dream, a dream to be woken up from as the reality of his life back in England jostled him awake to the real world. He'd convinced himself that this would happen for months now, he tried hard to tell himself even as he fell deeper and deeper in love with Thomas with every night he fell asleep in his arms; with every little endearing detail he learnt about him... Then why was this still so painful. The thought of leaving Fir Creek, leaving Thomas, leaving the boys, leaving a family that weren't truly his to claim in any legal capacity; nonetheless they were his family.
Thomas huffed as he entered the drawing room and jolting Henry out of his own little world of spiralling psychologically. He stopped dead in his tracks seeing Henry sitting on the sofa with a telegram in his hands and tears that he didn't even know he had shed streaming down his alabaster skin.
"Oh my God, Harry." Thomas rushed over towards him, sitting himself down next to the raven haired boy as he scanned his face with concern; cupping his tearstained cheeks as he thumbed off the tears gently with a tender thumb. "You're crying, what's the matter? Is everything okay back home?" He asked with genuine worry over his chiselled face.
"Oh, erm...  I didn't realise..." Henry stammered uncomfortably, raising his sleeve to dab off the moisture from around his wet lashes. "I erm... I'm going home." Henry admitted with an awkwardly forced smile, though his eyes seemed pained in contrast telling the true story of what his soul felt in that moment.
"Y-you... What...?" Horror washed over Thomas' face as he felt this indelible numbness permeate over his entire body.
"That's what the telegram was about." Explained Henry as calmly as he could muster. "The trial concluded and  it's safe for me to return home now."
"So you're just going to leave? Just like that?" Thomas chuckled humourlessly, his amber brown eyes shattered as he glanced up towards Henry with tears pooling in his eyes. "What about the town?! We need a doctor, you have duties here! And-and-and the boys! You're the only one who can get Alfie to sleep, and Danny! He'd be devastated." Thomas threw his hands up frantically, as though fighting for something he felt was slipping out of his grasp; his very heart. "W-what about me?" His voice cracked sending a pang through Henry's chest. He knew what had to be done; not just for him, but for both of them. He had to let Thomas go.
"Tom, you and me both know what we shared was special." Henry stood up, wearily approaching Thomas as he stood before him and caressed his stubbled cheek with the utmost affection. "I care for you terribly, Tom. So much so that I feel I may never care for another to this magnitude for as long as I shall live. But it's foolish for us to think that in the world we live in, we'd ever be able to live as we do forever. One day or another, this cruel world will pull us apart; perhaps it is best if it happens sooner rather than later... Perhaps it's best if I should go home."
"But this is your home, Harry!" Thomas pleaded, the desperation oozing from his voice as he ran his hand frantically though Henry's hair as he hoped to get through to him somehow, some way. "Harry, please. J-just don't leave me. I-I need you! We need you... Please I-" Thomas was cut off mid thought as he heard a frantic, furious knocking echo from the other side of the house; the police station.
"Oh for God's sake, what the bloody hell is it now." Henry grumbled irritatedly, both men exchanging glances before rushing towards the police station to answer the door. The knocking grew more and more frantic and desperate with each passing second before Thomas finally got to the
"What the devil..." Thomas cursed under his breath as they entered the police station's waiting area, seeing through the glass door a small mob of parents with horrified looks plastered across their faces as they knocked furiously on the wood panelling on the door that surrounded the clear glass.
"Ladies? Gentlemen?" Thomas said as he cracked the door open. "What seems to be the matter?"
"Our boys are stuck in the mines!"