Ned and Charlie have been out in the world for almost two weeks! I don’t know what’s more surreal, that I’m no longer working out their story, or to see other people fall in love with them.
Readers have been so incredibly generous with their enthusiasm for the story, exceeding what I could have dreamed for.
So to celebrate hitting this milestone, of not just a These Old Lies being published, but of having readers, I thought I would share a short scene that didn’t make the final draft. It’s one of my favourites, so I’m delighted it’s getting a home.
London, 1923/Ned
(Some point between chapter 11 and 13)
“Bloody ridiculous!”
Charlie’s voice drifted out from the small kitchen of Ned’s flat, where he was
conversing with the radio as he washed up dishes from their supper. The tone of righteous indignation made Ned smile, lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading.
Ned had failed to convince Charlie that, firstly, while he didn’t have live in staff, there was in fact someone who came in the mornings and cleaned up, secondly, no one in the radio could hear Charlie’s opinions of Arsenal’s performance, and thirdly, even if they could, it didn’t seem to be the announcer’s fault that the match had gone badly.
Charlie had shaken his head as if somehow Ned was the ridiculous one, curls falling over his eyes as he had collected the cups and turned on the radio.
“Oh Christ, not again!” That shout was more concerning because it was directed towards the reception room and Ned. Ned peered over the paper to see Charlie standing at the door waving a teacup in Ned’s direction. “Would it kill you to finish up the last of your tea, Pinsent? Cold tea splashing on my front is bloody unpleasant.”
“So is cold tea to drink,” Ned mumbled as he tried to sink further into his armchair, keeping his newspaper up as a defensive shield, but Charlie had already returned to arguing with the radio.
In between splashing and cursing, Charlie called out again, “I meant to ask, how was the theatre last night?”
“Sophie was lovely. We mocked a great number of people.” Ned closed his paper. “I think I should ask her to call me Ned too.”
“Do you now?” Charlie wandered back into the living room, sleeves rolled up, tea towel in hand.
Ned gave Charlie a shy smile. “She’s interesting to talk to, makes me laugh.”
Charlie threw his tea towel down, and pulled Ned out of his chair. “I like seeing you this content. Makes me want to take you to bed.”
Ned responded with a deep kiss in complete agreement with Charlie’s plan for the evening.
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