Archive of Our Own

A ten year old boy sat, his knees tucked up with a book resting on his legs, hidden in the stone alcove in the gardens of Jenkins Manor. It was off the main pathway where he knew very few visitors ever actually wandered; they preferred to stay in the confines of the larger rose gardens and the grand house itself. 

Bonnet House, or rather its extensive amount of land, backed onto Jenkins Manor. Stede Bonnet, the boy in question, had managed to create a little gap in the fence that he could squeeze through in order to make his way onto the Jenkins gardens. 

His father moaned about the house awfully, saying it was disgraceful the place had been opened up and tourists allowed in. He felt it made the neighbourhood untidy, bringing people in to gawp at “an ordinary home." Stede often bit his tongue at this. He knew full well that your average ordinary home did not have three wings and a large banqueting hall. But his father was not one to be argued with; Stede knew well enough by now to just sit and let him talk.

Stede also wished he could point out that their own house had modern extensions, which had ruined the period features, so they could hardly claim it as a part of the historic neighbourhood anymore. 

He liked Jenkins Manor and the gardens. They were peaceful, lovingly looked after by the volunteers of the historical society. They were his place of solace, where he could read in peace amongst the flowers and forget about his father for a few hours. The staff would let him sneak into the house sometimes, spending some time in the bedrooms and he learnt about the interesting figures who’d lived there once before. 

Inevitably he always had to return home to Bonnet House but at least for a little while he could revel in the peace and the historical property. 

“Alright there Master Bonnet?” a kind voice said. 

He looked up and smiled. “Hello Vicky.” 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to send you back home soon, we’re closing up for the day,” she said softly. 

Stede nodded, gathering his things up and swinging his legs off the seat. 

Vicky was one of the volunteer tour guides at Jenkins Manor and if she saw Stede sat here, she’d always stop to say hello, sometimes bringing him a can of pop or a snack if someone had brought baked goods in. She was friendly and let Stede be, not wanting to disturb his reading. 

“Has it been busy today?” Stede asked curiously. “It hasn’t sounded so loud in the grounds recently.”

She smiled at him sadly. “I thought your father might have told you. His complaints to the Historical Society that the house is creating “too much commotion” have finally come to fruition. People haven’t been visiting as much recently anyway. We’re throwing money at the place and now we’re becoming a press problem. Management has decided to close up. Tomorrow is our last day. ”

“What?” Stede said, astonished. “But…” he trailed off, knowing nothing he could say would actually help. He couldn’t do anything. 

“I know. It’s just sometimes how these things go. Not everyone appreciates a fine house as much as you do! It takes a lot of work to keep these old places running. We’re struggling to keep it standing and visitor numbers are dropping. It’s just the way it is sometimes.” 

“I’ll come by tomorrow. I want to see the house again before it closes.” 

Vicky nodded. “Ask for me at the desk, I think we can get you in,” she said with a smile. “You better get home before your Dad starts to wonder where you are.” 

He glanced over at his gap in the fence, thinking well at the very least he could still sneak into the gardens but she clocked his look and shook her head.

“Sorry sweet. They will be blocking off all the fences to privatise the land. I saw the metal sheets arrive yesterday”

He sighed, disappointingly. It was stupid, why was getting people interested in history and people a bad thing?

“I’ll see you tomorrow," he said sadly before shuffling away, back towards his own lonely house. 

He vowed one day he’d make sure Jenkins Manor stood open again for everyone to enjoy. 

28 YEARS LATER

Stede Bonnet stood on the front porch of the dilapidated Jenkins Manor. Since its closure in his childhood, nobody had set foot in it since. It had been used as a fly tipping site, the lack of maintenance to the stone exterior had caused moss to grow over the crumbling parts, and the gardens were overgrown and wild.

The keys to the property were held tightly in his hand and he inhaled deeply.

“Well. Here goes nothing,” he whispered to himself and he turned the key, the door creaking open to reveal the foyer. 

“Oh shit,” he exclaimed, eyes widening. 

~

Edward Teach was sitting at his desk in his home office, his head lying back on his plush leather chair, his eyes closed. He was wondering how much more of this he could take. 

That was the third rejection email he had to send this week and it was only Tuesday. He hated seeing historical buildings and monuments that he just was not able to assist. After a lifetime of working in building and historical restoration, he was finally beginning to slow down. (Sort of.)

He no longer owned Queen Anne’s Restoration (named after his mother), despite earning the nickname Blackbeard that made him infamous. His reports and assessments had helped bring back buildings from the brink of ruin to being bustling family homes once again, brought abbeys and old schools and long forgotten statues back to life, revitalised huge stately homes to be tourist attractions, lobbied governments and private investors to provide funding. But after an injury to his knee, he realised he had to step back from managing the projects and travelling himself.

He got a job with Fettering and Co, as a freelance restoration consultant. They were passionate about ensuring historical buildings were saved but they had yearly limited funds and an ever increasing list of people who wanted to use them. 

He was in charge of reviewing building proposals for them and determining whether the project was viable or not, whether economically there was a justification for this building. He wanted to help everyone but he was struggling recently, with costs rising, it was getting harder and harder to justify funds. The constant maintenance required on some older buildings would only build up over the years, so even if it was fixable now, the financial ability maintain the fixes had to be taken into account as well. There were often unique complex issues and it was all getting a bit draining. 

He’d withdrawn from his friends recently, he knew he had. Izzy got married last year after re-uniting with Teddy, a former flame from years ago so he was in his own little domestic bubble. Anne and Mary had moved away a few months ago so he had to resort to Facetime with them, which was easier to blow off. Ed had stopped joining Ivan and Fang down the pub, blaming a busy workload when in reality, he was just stuck in a rut. Struggling with the repetitive nature of his life, he just needed something new. Someone new maybe. He loved his friends and it wasn’t their fault, it’s just there is something in Ed’s brain causing sticking points and he felt like he was treading water half the time. 

A ping signified another email. He sighed, flicking his eyes to his inbox. 

“Jenkins Manor: funding inquiry,” the subject line read.

Mail to : [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected] 

Dear Mr Teach,

My name is Stede Bonnet. I hope you are having a good day.

I have recently become the proprietor of Jenkins Manor, a late 16th century building that was named for its founder Sir David Jenkins. The building has housed many extraordinary characters throughout the years, it has been a hospital in war times, a smuggler’s stronghold, there are even rumours of an ancient sea-witch making it his home as well as having several fascinating women and queer folk who have lived or worked there, who have largely gone unnoticed by history. (Sadly, isn’t that always the way?)

I grew up close to Jenkins Manor, when it was opened for tours in the late 80s. (I am formerly one of the occupants of Bonnet House but since my father’s death last year, I have sold the property). The house, its truly magnificent gardens with their stone walls and statues and beautiful flowers and its previous staff were truly some of the best memories of my childhood and I was devastated to learn of its closing. 

I came into some inheritance with my father’s passing and I have bought Jenkins Manor with an ambition and a dream to restore it back to being a tourist destination, letting others discover its secrets and its magic for themselves. 

However, upon receiving the keys, I note that a distinct lack of care over the last 28 years – the building has suffered significant damage inside, far more than I had budgeted for. 

I have a full business plan and vision for the project but I am writing to inquire about the possibility of gaining access to some of your restoration grant money.

I would love to invite you to come visit. To see for yourself the issues we are facing and to let me give you a tour for what I hope will one day be a thriving tourist destination, that brings people together to view their shared history in the community. I will gladly undertake a private tour for you to inspect. 

I look forward to hearing from you

Yours sincerely,

Stede M Bonnet

Proprietor of Jenkins Manor

 

Reading through the email, Ed already felt himself endeared towards the proprietor. He knew of Jenkins Manor, a truly gorgeous house full of character but poorly maintained over the years and he was glad someone had taken an interest in it. This Stede Bonnet was also the first person to offer for Ed to come on a visit to the property rather than just view images attached to an email asking for help that way instead. The name Bonnet was familiar as was Bonnet House. He was fairly certain they were property magnates, some awful corporation that would buy up land and properties with no regard for their history in order to make themselves more money. It seemed perhaps that if this Bonnet was indeed part of that family, he clearly didn’t exactly align with their views… Ed was intrigued, what could he say?

Mail to : [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected]

Dear Mr Bonnet,

Thank you very much for your inquiry.

I would be delighted to come and visit Jenkins Manor. Tomorrow @ 10am?

Edward Teach

Restoration Consultant, 

c/o Fettering! and Co

~

Ed pulled his car up, parking on the gravel driveway to the property. There were a couple of other vehicles parked up including two bicycles chained to the fence. For a house that was supposedly empty and partially in ruin, there were seemingly a few people here. 

He got out of the car, grabbed his notebook and pen and slipped his phone into his leather jacket pocket. 

The ornate wooden door had lasted surprisingly well, it was worn but still sturdy, its original metal supports still in place. Ed briefly reflected on how many people must have walked through this door, all with their own stories, and thoughts and people they loved. These old buildings hold the weight of all those people, that was partially why he wanted to work to save them. 

He went to knock on the door but he found it was slightly open already so he pushed on it gently. 

He stepped in and was immediately greeted with a huge glass chandelier on the floor in the middle of the foyer. Its chain had snapped and parts of it had clearly been smashed, now cleaned up and removed to make it safe to walk. It had seemingly landed on an antique carpet which had frays and some holes in it, however it was difficult to tell whether it was from the chandelier or just years of wear and tear.

There was a stunning wooden staircase backdropped behind the crashed chandelier with a portrait of a man in navy uniform. Unusually for a portrait, the man seemed to hold the hint of a smile in his portrait, it made a refreshing change. 

“Hello?” Ed called out tentatively, not seeing anyone around.

A head poked round a corner of a doorway, just off to the left, a headphone pulled out of his ear. It was a 30-something brunette man, brown eyes and a friendly, if curious, smile.

“You the historical consultation guy the boss mentioned?”

The man looked him up and down swiftly. Tiny bit rude Ed thought, but it wasn’t the first time. You say historical consultant and most people probably assume a stuffy old white professor type guy, not him with his brown skin, leather trousers and greying stubble.

“Er yeah I assume so. I’m Edward Teach.”

“I’m Lucius. Technically Stede’s PA and general assistant round here but more like his life coach. I’ll go get him.” 

Lucius strode off down the hallway after one final look at Ed. He couldn’t be sure but he perhaps saw the hint of a smirk on his face, a knowing look that he couldn’t quite read. 

He shook his head, he’d dealt with enough people in his career that he’d handled every reaction in the book. 

He looked around the foyer again, his eyes settling on a large side table, made of beautiful dark oak. It had the odd scratch and bump from years of wear and tear but it was actually in quite impeccable condition. He took a few steps over to have a closer look. It had two notches cut out of the end as if it had once had to accommodate some pillars. He smiled a little to himself, he liked it when pieces of furniture had these little quirks to them. Proof they were used to live once, that a family or group of people would have sat round here for their meal day after day. He liked to think about what their stories were. 

He was just running a hand over the sleek wood when he heard a friendly and a surprisingly familiar accent call out. “Mr Teach?”

He turned round and … Oh.

He’d assumed Stede Bonnet would be some haughty rich white guy. While white and presumably rich given he could afford to buy this place, he gave off no aura of haughtiness. In fact, he was incredibly handsome and grinning happily. Like quite literally ticked every box in Ed’s list of what he would consider his type. Blond? Tick. Broad? Tick. Smiley? Tick. 

He was also seemingly dressed in a peacock blue overcoat, white stockings with black silk bows in them and a cream frilly shirt, looking like he had immediately stepped out of the 1700s. 

He was holding his hand out for Ed to shake, a small friendly smile etched on his face. 

“Yes, Stede Bonnet I presume?” he asked as he grasped the man’s hand in greeting. 

“That’s me! Welcome to Jenkins Manor, I’m thrilled you’ve made the journey today.”

“My pleasure mate, always had a soft spot for this place. I’m glad someone’s taking the time to look after it.”

Stede looked quietly very pleased at Ed’s last statement, his already radiant smile beaming just a little brighter. 

“Thank you. My childhood home backs onto the property so I used to sneak in through the fence. I have a lot of good memories here,” he said, looking a little wistful. “Can I interest you in a tour? Would you like a coffee or anything first?”

“All good on the drink front but I’d love a tour,” Ed said, gesturing for Stede to start walking. 

“We’ll go upstairs first.” Stede indicated the large staircase behind them, moving gently around the fallen chandelier. 

“What happened with this?” Ed asked, nodding towards the glass structure as they started to make their way up the stairs.

“The wooden beam the original fitting was attached to had rotted. Leaks in the attic and such we think. Must have caused the chandelier to fall at some point. It’s original Venetian glass you know, I’d love to pay to have it restored to its former glory but unfortunately we can’t do that until the roof and the attic are fixed,” Stede said with a slight grimace on his face.

“These old houses are money pits.” Ed looked around at the walls now they were on the landing. The furniture was sparse but there were a few portraits. 

“Do you know who any of these guys are?” 

Stede shook his head. “We’re trying to find out. How much do you know about the history of this place?” 

“Bits and pieces. It’s changed hands a lot right?” 

They were making their way down the upstairs corridor. 

“Yeah, several owners, several renovators. It’s been chopped and changed so much over the years, we’re not even entirely sure what the original layout was anymore. The house is named after Sir David Jenkins who had it built but it became this much larger place, sprawling from his original vision. There were even rumours that an ancient sea-witch once took up residence here, it’s an eclectic mix of people for sure. They’ve all shaped it though. Like take this for example?” Stede said, pushing open the last door at the end of the corridor. 

It opened into a surprisingly red bedroom, large four-poster bed with flower stencilling covering the wall. It wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste but Ed quite liked it. It had painted wooden shutters on the window in what looked like a Baroque style, all grand flowers and religious imagery. It was a little dusty and could do with some brightening up of the fabrics but thankfully nothing had been too damaged over the years.

“We call this the Queen’s Room. There was a rumour Queen Charlotte once stayed here. I mean it’s unlikely but it’s something to lean into I suppose.” Stede chuckled. “But you can see it’s quite 17th century in its design here?” 

Ed nodded, watching Stede with fascination.

“But in here…” he stepped back into the corridor and opened the next door room.

“Oh…” Ed said immediately. It was another bedroom but it was almost a complete tone shift. The furniture was a dark oak, there was a large wooden chest in the corner of the room and the walls were wooden panelled but deep red velvet curtains stood out. 

“This one is… a bit more Gothic?”

“This doesn’t even look like any room design I’ve seen before,” Ed said in wonder, looking over at an ornate cabinet etched with lilies onto the front. 

“No, we think it was possibly almost created as a homage to Dracula or something like that. Something from the early 20th century. I kind of like to think it was a teenage girl who lived here or something. For example my daughter, she’s 14. She’s currently obsessed with Taylor Swift. Posters adorning her wall kind of a thing. But maybe this was a girl who read a lot of Bram Stoker.”

Ed was perhaps a little surprised to hear that Stede had a teenage daughter, they looked similar in age and… well to be quite frank, Ed had been getting queer vibes off him (not that queer people couldn’t be parents of course). Maybe he needed to rein in the thoughts that he found the guy attractive before it got too late. 

Ed smiled at the thought of a fandom obsessed teenager even back in the 1900s, it seemed like a nice fit for this room. 

“These rooms are the ones that are in least trouble anyway,” Stede said. “They are away from more of the leaky roof… it’s down here you’ll see where we have issues.”

Stede gestured for Ed to follow him. 

“Mate I have to ask,” Ed said, as they walked back down the corridor to the other side of the landing from the staircase. “The outfit? It’s amazing, don’t get me wrong  but you’re in a dusty old house all the time, I’m surprised you want to risk something so … pretty,” he said, suddenly a little shy.

“Oh! Thanks!” Stede chuckled softly. “It’s my… tour outfit. I’m hoping when we get this place up and running, when I’m leading tours I can wear something authentic! Of course this isn’t actually authentic – my friend John designed it for me – but I just like the idea of being in character a little bit! Adds some flair to it.”

Stede suddenly looked over at Ed and his face fell a little. 

“I know it’s a lot. Lucius, my assistant, he thinks it’s too much.”

Ed had to rush in with a “NO! No. It’s not too much, mate. It’s lovely. I think you’re a bit of a lunatic maybe but I like it,” he said with a small grin. 

Stede blushed a little, his cheeks flushing. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. They had made it to the other end of the house now.

Stede showed Ed around the rest of the house. Every room had a story to tell but they also had their issues, something needed to be fixed, something that was old and worth the time and effort to restore. Something that kept adding to the bill. 

A bed that had once been a deep royal blue faded to yellow after years of light damage. The broken adze flooring in another. Cracked tiles in the large former dining hall from years of dancing and drinking and socialising on top of them. A fireplace with smoke damage from a damaged chimney flue. The kitchens were rusty with broken ovens that must have baked thousands of loaves of bread in their time. 

“I just want to make something of this place Ed. I want people to see it once again, how it’s been used over the years. The main thing I love about this house it’s that it’s been used. It’s been a family home, it’s been a meeting place. It’s seen scandals and royalty and affairs and children grow up,” Stede said, once they were in his office and a pot of tea had been brewed. 

Stede hadn’t even balked when Ed sheepishly explained he needs at least seven sugars in his tea, he simply just grinned and pushed the sugar bowl towards him.

Stede’s office was one of the smaller rooms downstairs that had been more or less empty when Stede acquired the property he explained, it was possibly a servant’s bedroom, in a past life. Stede had moved some rudimentary furniture into it, a desk, two arm chairs. They had generators for the electricity and on-site internet for now which was also eating into the budget. Despite the house having electricity, it hadn’t been done exactly to modern building regulations so they were having to re-wire plenty of it. 

“I love that,” Ed said wistfully. “I really think you’re trying to do a good thing here. It’s kind of reminding me why I did this stuff in the first place.”

Stede smiled at him sincerely, his eyes widening and looking a little bit bashful. “Thank you Ed, that’s very kind of you.” Stede sighed and crossed his legs over in his arm chair, putting his stockings more on show and Ed really had to evaluate what that was doing to him.

“It’s just I want this place to be real. Remind people it was real. Something that AI or god knows what else the human race seems determined to come up with in the future can’t replace.”

Ed smiled at him, maybe staring at him a little too much but he couldn’t help it. The man was captivating. 

“I hope we can make this happen for you Stede. Truly. I’d… love to help out a bit here too if I can? Been a while since I’ve had something so close to home to support.”

Stede’s eyes lit up and Ed willed his heart not to get ahead of itself. “I’d love that! Let me give you my personal number so we can arrange it but I’m here most days anyway. It’s been lovely to show you round today. Even if we don’t get the grant money, I still consider it an honour I got to explain our vision to you today.”

Ed left Jenkins Manor with the personal number of Stede Bonnet typed into his phone and a promise to text the next day. He was going to write up a glowing recommendation for this place, he wanted to help the strange little man who bought a dilapidated mansion and wants to turn it back into a place for people to learn and appreciate their past. 

For selfish reasons, Ed wanted to help him because the embers of a crush had turned into a full on bright flame of adoration. He wanted to spend more time with Stede Bonnet… just because. 

~

Mail to : [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected] 

Dear Mr Teach,

Your impressive letter of recommendation for Jenkins Manor to gain access to our restoration grant funding was duly noted. 

Anyone undertaking a project as large as Jenkins Manor should be commended for their perseverance and passion to the project and Mr Stede Bonnet clearly has this in spades. (I actually know Stede, we went to school together for a while! He’s a nice man isn’t he?)

However, as you note in your report, the restoration of Jenkins Manor is large with several aspects that may cause further financial pitfalls which we cannot ultimately remain financially responsible for. To give Jenkins Manor the full sum of proposed figures would reduce our restoration budget significantly over the next decade and leave us unable to help multiple other projects.

I’m afraid at this time we cannot justify granting any funding to the Jenkins Manor project. Perhaps further down the line when some steps have been taken on refurbishment or if there are any significant changes in circumstance for the project, we may be able to review. 

Please let Mr Bonnet know we appreciate his application and wish him the best but at this time, we will have to decline any financial assistance. 

Many thanks, 

Jeffrey Fettering, CEO

Fettering! And Co. 

Mail to : [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected]

Dear Stede,

Great news mate! Fettering’s board have approved your funding!

Please direct any queries through me - I know you and Jeffrey are old school pals but he’s a busy man you know?

Can I come by tomorrow to discuss next steps?

Cheers, 

Ed

~

What had he been thinking?

Seriously?

Lying to that lovely sweet man about his funding because it damn near broke Ed’s heart when he thought about having to tell Stede he wasn’t getting any money to help? Because he couldn’t bear to be the bringer of bad news?

Because he wanted to spend more time with Stede and if he didn’t get the funding, how was Ed going to wrangle that without seeming like a weirdo?

He has to come clean. He will. He HAS to. His mother didn’t raise no liar. 

Except when Ed arrives at Jenkins Manor that morning, he is barely out of his car when a pair of strong arms are thrown around his neck and he is nearly knocked over with the sheer force of the hug. 

“ED! Thank you, thank you, thank you, I can’t believe it. You got us our extra funding,” Stede gushed. 

Ed inhales a little sharply, willing himself to push Stede away and come clean but then he gets a whiff of Stede’s shampoo which is both floral and appley in scent and he feels instantly safe in Stede’s arms and he kind of wants to move into the crook of his neck. 

“No mate… it’s all you. And your vision for this place,” he said quietly, patting Stede on the back gently, the guilt seeping through to his bones. 

Stede pulled back, but he kept his hands on Ed’s shoulders, his hazel eyes gleaming and the smile on his beautiful face went from ear to ear. Ed was only a little bit taller than him but this angle gave him an excellent view of Stede’s eyes and the laughter lines around them. 

“But you wrote the letter that got us the funding! Seriously, this is going to help us so much. Thank you again.” Stede grinned at him, but suddenly seemingly realising he was still holding onto Ed and he let go of his shoulders abruptly. Ed mourned the loss. “Come on, let’s get you a tea.”

Ed had arrived that morning with the intention of helping Stede sort out a few of the attic rooms, the area that used to be the servants quarters but over the years, it had clearly been used as a dumping ground for general household artefacts over the years. Stede was hoping to find some kind of hidden gem within the attic that they could put on display once the house was open. 

A tea perfectly sweetened with seven sugars was passed to him by Lucius, who greeted him with a warm smile once they got into Stede’s office. “Seriously Ed, thank you,” he said sincerely. “I have kinda grown to love this place, partially because of him,” and Lucius nodded towards Stede. “Partially, because it gets under your skin. This house and its stories. It’s going to help us so much.”

Ed felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, hoping that Lucius and Stede would take it as humility when he knew, in reality, it was shame. 

He followed Stede up the creaky wooden staircase at the back of the house leading to the attic they were sorting out today. Stede pushed open the door and pulled a slight face, looking at the stacked boxes, frames and furniture in front of them, realising the scale of the task. There was stuff crammed into every single available space in the room, barely enough for them to get in the doorway.

“Woah,” Ed murmured under his breath. “Someone really hoarded some stuff up here.”

“Tell me about it,” Stede said. He looked over at Ed, a determined gleam in his eyes. “But … every little bit helps. How about I take this side, you take that side?” 

Ed nodded, a small smile flashing across his face. He made a beeline for an old ornate wooden chest close to him and prised it open.

They made a start, making their way through the various items. Some of it was purely just rubbish - Ed found a tin of sardines that expired in 1975 and grimaced at the thought of the ancient slimy fish, exclaiming, “That tin is older than me!” before dropping it into one of the large black plastic rubbish bags Stede had stashed in the attic as Stede giggled at him. Stede was poking through an old wardrobe, determining which pieces of clothing might be salvageable. He seemed to be in his element. “Oooh fab,” he said to himself, pulling out a fine frilly linen shirt and Ed couldn’t help but smile at the sweet endearment.

They chatted as they worked and Ed had never felt quite so at ease with someone. Stede was an attentive listener and he asked insightful questions, not because he felt he had to but because he seemed to genuinely care about Ed’s answers. 

Stede told him about how his marriage had broken up when he came home early to discover his wife and her painting instructor in bed together and to his surprise, Stede had realised he didn’t even care. He loved Mary, his ex, like a best friend and the mother of his children but their marriage had long since stopped being romantic – if it ever had been after being pushed together by their parents when they were younger. Shortly after his father had died, Stede inherited the family business, despite his father’s many years of maintaining that Stede would be disowned. “I honestly think he just hated the idea of the business belonging to anyone but a Bonnet rather than any latent affection for me,” Stede had shrugged when explaining.  

No longer wishing to keep up a pretence, especially as Stede had also come to the conclusion at this point that the reason he didn’t care about the affair is that he was gay actually. He and Mary divorced and Stede sold the business, which enabled him to buy Jenkins Manor. He told Ed about the happy memories of his childhood, sneaking into the gardens here and the grand rooms once full of exquisite furniture and displays, much of which was long since sold. 

Stede told Ed about his kids, Alma and Louis, and how much better they got on now he and their mother weren’t pretending to be a happy family. He even spoke highly of Doug, the aforementioned painting instructor, claiming he was “perfectly lovely”.

“Ed, I have talked about myself an unforgivable amount,” Stede said after a while as he finally closed the door to the wardrobe having emptied it into two piles of clothes to research further and ones to donate to other establishments. “Could I possibly ask you a question?” Stede ventured curiously. 

“Sure mate,” Ed nodded, as he began to rifle through some boxes filled with books. 

“What got you into restoring historical buildings?” Stede asked. 

Ed smiled. “My Mum. She loved history, old things, and what stories were just waiting to be uncovered. She was also savvy with saving things, patching up our clothes when they got a rip in them, making your average household item stretch. She loved the mundane everyday things and how they could make something beautiful.” He paused for a moment, inhaling sharply. 

“Things weren’t good with my Dad. But we managed to escape him and we had no money for anything but once a year for my birthday, she would scrounge up what she could and we’d visit a museum or something. I loved those trips so much and it inspired me, thinking about there are so many places that deserve a second chance in life, so many heritages or stories that don’t get told in history. I wanted to restore the kind of places the forgotten stories get told in.”

Stede smiled at him sincerely. “That’s really lovely Ed. You must have worked very hard.”

Ed shrugged. “I did, I suppose. I studied hard, fought through the academic barriers that said a queer, brown-skinned, immigrant was pursuing the wrong career but I got myself established. Travelled the world working on restorations in countless buildings. I loved it, but I needed a change of pace a couple of years ago. I got injured, Mum passed away. Needed to be in one place for a bit.”

Stede nodded. “So that’s why you took the job with Jeffrey?”

“Mhmm,” Ed agreed. He moved the box of books he had been looking through to the side and turned to face Stede. “Seriously mate, this place and what you are trying to do here. It reminds me of why I got into this in the first place. Had to spend a lot of time rejecting places recently which are all worthy of help and it’s disheartening–" Ed felt the little voice of his conscience in his brain pipe up at how hypocritical he was being right now but he suppressed it best he could - “but this place? I remember why I want to keep these places running. You’re doing a good thing.”

Stede blushed a little at the compliment and it flashed across Ed’s mind that he wanted to make Stede blush in other ways. Down boy he shushed the horny devil perched on his shoulder, while his conscience piped back up with a he won’t want anything to do with you when he finds out you’re lying. 

“Thank you Ed. That’s very kind of you,” Stede said sincerely. Ed looked up to find that Stede’s eyes were already firmly on him and a ripple of warmth and affection spread through his body. He gave him a small smile before turning back to the pile of -

“OH MY GOD!” Ed shouted as he jumped, turning a picture frame around to reveal the portrait of a haunting balding, seemingly naked, man with a seagull perched upon his head. The piercing eyes of the man seemed to be following Ed wherever he looked in that terrifying way old pictures sometimes do. 

Stede had crossed the room to Ed’s side quickly and let out a similar noise of surprise. It wasn’t a painting like anyone he’d seen before. It looked 18th century in style but it was rare to find anything quite like this. 

“He’s certainly… a quirky looking figure,” Stede reasoned, standing close to Ed and peering over Ed’s shoulder to get a better look.

“Buttons and Karl,” Ed read aloud from the small plaque embedded into the frame at the bottom. “You reckon Karl is the bird?” Ed asked inquisitively, glancing sideways at Stede. 

A bemused smile spread across Stede’s face. “I should think so, looks like a Karl doesn’t he?” Stede’s eyes suddenly locked on something on the floor next to where Ed had picked the portrait up and he crouched down to pull it out further. “No way,” he whispered, dragging the glass cases out into the open. 

Inside the two cases were the taxidermied bodies of two seagulls, one the exact spitting image of Karl on the portrait, the other a little smaller - his mate perhaps? 

Stede grinned. “Says her name is Olivia.” He brushed his fingers over the name etched into the lid of the case. “And this is, indeed Karl.” Stede indicated to the other one. “I wonder who this Mr Buttons was, I have never heard of him in my research about former residents of the house.” 

“He seems cool to me, mate,” Ed shrugged, placing the portrait down next to his seemingly beloved birds. “Walks around starkers, has pet seagulls. Maybe he is the guardian angel of Jenkins Manor,” Ed chuckled.

“I like the sound of that. Either way, I think these two deserve pride of place downstairs rather than sitting up here in a dusty old attic. Perhaps we can rehome Buttons along with them.” Stede nodded satisfactorily, standing back up, his arm brushing against Ed’s ever so lightly.

He didn’t pull away though, Ed clocked, a thrill of anticipation spreading up his spine. 

“Did you know seagulls typically mate for life?” Stede said after a moment of quiet between the pair of them. “There have been records of partnerships lasting over 30 years, flying around the coast together,” he added wistfully. 

“Well you know what they say, couples that steal people’s chips together stay together,” Ed said quietly, a huff of laughter leaving him.

He felt rather than saw Stede’s smile and he nudged the man next to him in the ribs lightly. “Might be nice though. Sticking with someone for that long. Spending every day with your best friend,” Ed said, inhaling, his voice becoming a little shaky. 

“Yeah,” Stede replied. He turned minutely to the side, his eyes flickering to Ed’s face. Ed turned to meet his gaze too. They held their eye contact for a few seconds, strong and charged and filled with something intense. “Might be nice,” Stede added.

“Ed I..” Stede started to say when there were footsteps on the stairs. 

“Boys, I'm ordering lunch, you want anything?” Lucius called out, leaning on the door frame as he got to the room. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at the pair of them and his lips turning into a smirk. 

“Nothing, just sorting some of these treasures out,” Stede said brightly, stepping away from Ed so their arms were no longer touching. Ed wanted to pull him back in. 

“Okaaaay,” Lucius said with a raised eyebrow and a knowing look but thankfully he chose not to push it further. “Oh Stede, by the way, that charming reporter who came round yesterday called. The article will be live tomorrow.” 

Ed’s eyes shot up in alarm. “What article?” he asked, a little too loudly. 

“Getting the word out that we are finally able to restore this place to its former glory!” Stede replied happily. “All thanks to you!”

Oh fuck, Ed thought to himself. 

~

Mail to: [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected] 

Subject: Jenkins Manor project

Steve, 

I see my old pal Blackbeard is helping you out at the Jenkins house. I used to work with him on restoration until I changed careers. Just have to give the people what they want you know?

Now I make videos - you can see my very successful YouTube and TikTok here. 

I figure I could vlog the process of your renovation? Would be good for marketing and getting the word out there. I’ll even waive my usual fee, it’s nice to give back to charity or whatever. I think I could help you out.

Speak soon,

Jack Rackham

~

Ed's phone

~

Ed had always been fairly ambivalent as to whether karma existed throughout his life. The idea that some unseen force is checking if you are doing good things seemed a little outlandish. Now, he was certain it did exist because clearly misleading Stede about his funding had brought Jack Rackham back into his life after finally kicking him to curb several years back. Ed had known this was a bad idea. Should have told Stede to run for the fucking hills and delete the email. 

Ed had met Jack at university, studying the same Master’s Degree, both seeking specialisms in restoration projects. Jack had a knack for charm and a less than stellar work ethic but Ed had been drawn into his orbit once upon a time. They did their group project together - aka Ed did most of it actually and when graduation came around and Ed was hired on some large projects, he brought Jack along as an ‘assistant’. At some point, they had started sleeping together, the first time after a night of too much drink in some run-down bar, but Ed fell in lust hard. Looking back, he knows it was just that it felt like for once, someone had chosen him – even if the red flags were waving hard at him just out of vision. They were ‘together’ for around six months in total, but it was a whirlwind of eating, blitzing their way through several high profile renovation reports while travelling across Europe, get completely wasted on cheap beer after work and fucking until Jack fell asleep – Ed had to finish himself off in the bathroom more often than not. The rose-coloured glasses Ed had when it came to Jack came firmly off when he got back to their hotel room to find Jack in bed with their young grad student on placement with the team.

Ed had kicked the poor girl out of the room as she protested she didn’t know they were seeing each other. He’d yelled at Jack who seemed entirely nonchalant about the whole thing, claiming they had never been exclusive. “We’re not those kind of people, Eddie,” he had said. Those words have swum around Ed’s mind for years. Believing he wasn’t worthy of love and affection and the great romance that you see in books and movies.

Ed had barely spoken to Jack recently. (There may have been a couple of odd lapses in judgement when Jack was in town and Ed was feeling particularly lonely but it wasn’t necessarily talking they got round to). His social media career had taken off in the last few years and Ed had periodically watched it. It wasn’t entirely to his taste, quite click-baity and loud and brash but Jack, to his credit, did actually use his education as part of his posts and would highlight specific historical stories or things of note so it could pass as educational. Even if there was a lot of embellishment. (The video about the house that the ghosts of an entire Roman Legion marching through the cellar seemed a little far-fetched.) 

But maybe he could be of some use to the project Ed reasoned. He told Stede to tell him yes to come and film the project, some part of him wondering if maybe it would be nice to see Jack again now they had both gotten older. Jack did have a large social media audience. Maybe he could do the restoration some good - there was even a tiny hopeful thought it could lead to extra sponsors for Stede therefore assuaging Ed of some guilt. 

Except Jack hadn’t changed, of course he hadn't. He was still his slimy old self, making crude comments and ensuring everyone but him was the butt of the joke. 

Ed had introduced Jack to Stede and his heart instantly tightened as he realised what a bad idea this was. Jack was late even getting to the house that morning and he sidled in, instantly screwing his face up at the décor. “Bit fancy here isn’t it? My viewers prefer the grittier places,” he had commented and Ed reminded him that he was the one who wanted to come here. 

Stede had left his office to greet Jack, wearing his amazing outfit, complete with the overcoat and stockings, holding his hand out to shake. Jack had ignored Stede’s polite greeting and nudged Ed in the ribs. “What the hell is the gear this guy has got on?” he’d laughed cruelly. When Stede had explained this was his planned tour guide outfit and he’d hoped Jack could film a bit of a clip of him showing viewers round the property, Jack had replied that nobody wanted to see a ponce chatting, they’d rather see Jack and ‘the dirty history’ of the house. 

Stede hadn’t worn the tour outfit since and it broke Ed’s heart. 

Lucius and the crew - Ed had met a couple more of them in the weeks since, Olu and Frenchie were both local furniture and antique restorers who worked part time for Stede - had hung off every word in every story Jack told about the haunting and daring experiences he had in several historical properties he’d visited. Jack had regaled them with some of the adventurous projects he and Ed had once worked on. He had been filming near constantly, in every room, getting shots of them all chatting so he had plenty of content to choose from. He would note interesting bits of furniture, emphasising some of the stories about the people who used to live in the house. He spent an extraordinarily long time interviewing Stede about the two housemaids who’d supposedly had a love affair in the 1800s, evidenced only by a single letter left behind by one of them. Stede had expressed some distaste that Jack seemingly wanted to use their love story as a token drama point in his video and Jack told him to leave it to the expert. He filmed Buttons and Karl and Olivia, who now were displayed in the hallway watching over the staircase with their master’s portrait above. Jack had been making fun of the guy’s appearance in the portrait, which Ed had seen Stede narrow his eyes at and Ed told him quietly to rein it in a little.

But now Jack’s jokes were getting personal, insisting on calling Stede ‘Steve’ much to his annoyance. Lucius had gone from politely entertaining Jack’s jokes to fully ignoring him and Olu seemed to leave the room whenever Jack came in. Stede got smaller, his normally wide stature and personality diminished by Jack’s japes and Ed hated that he’d done this by telling Stede to agree. 

Speaking of Stede, the man was still none the wiser; he didn't have any funding beyond his own ever-dwindling pot of cash. As he’d instructed him, Stede had sent the first invoice off to Fettering! And Co via Ed himself, who had paid for it with his own money. He had enough set by but not enough to cover the whole project. He was getting increasingly anxious about the hole he’d dug himself into, but while Jack was here there was no way to get out of it. They were getting towards the weekend now and everyone was tired of Jack, despite his incessant need to film Ed was finding any excuse he could to get Stede alone to try and make him feel better. 

Ed hadn’t seen Stede in a couple of hours, leaving Jack under Olu’s supervision as he was filming a section on the stairway close to where the glass cases of Karl and Olivia now lived. Jack was waffling on about how these seagulls MIGHT have been cursed and the naked portrait of Buttons that accompanied it MIGHT have been the ancient sea-witch. Despite this part of the legend of the house, it felt wrong when it came out of Jack’s mouth rather than the way Stede told the story earnestly. .  

He wandered upstairs, checking the rooms one by one, eventually finding Stede in the first room he’d shown him the first time he was here. The red bedroom with the flower stencilling on the wall. 

He knocked on the door softly, even though it was open. Stede was staring out the window. 

“Hey,” he said as Stede turned to look at him. “Can I come in?”

Stede nodded, his usual warm smile returning, seemingly saved only for Ed. Ed walked over to join him at the window, it overlooked the gardens and there was another large house in the distance, more modern than Jenkins Manor but still grand. 

“You alright?” Ed asked him.

“Yeah, just… he’s kind of a lot. And I don’t think he likes me very much. But he’s helping us out so I figured I’d just stay out of his way.”

“Yeah I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him in a while, I forgot how intense he can be.” Ed let out an awkward chuckle. 

They were silent for a few moments before Stede spoke again. “That’s my house. My childhood house, that is, over there in the distance,” he said, nodding towards the mansion.

“It’s… nice,” Ed said tactfully.

Stede let out an amused huff of air. “It’s not. It’s gaudy and tacky and big, everything my father felt ‘people like us’ should live in but there was no substance or story to it. Not like this place. I used to spend more time in the gardens here as a child, drawing the flowers, even picking them if the gardener let me help sometimes. I’d listen in on the tours here, hear about the swathes of people who called this place home once. They were all so interesting and vibrant and they shaped this place to be what it is now. A culmination of all of those stories. I felt more at home here with these historical figures than I did in my own house.”

He sighed and Ed tentatively reached out his pinkie finger to nudge Stede’s hand comfortingly. Stede looked down at the touch in surprise but he smiled sweetly at Ed before continuing. 

“I just want this to go right Ed. My whole life has been failure after failure. I was never enough for my father, I was too much for my peers, my children have only really started to like me now I’ve left the family home. This place made me braver as a kid, it deserves to go back to its former glory. The people who lived here deserve to be remembered for everyone to learn their stories. It’s just it’s so much more work than I thought and I am terrified it’s going to be another thing I get wrong-”

“You won’t,” Ed interrupted. “You won’t get this wrong. I have spent my whole career in places like this, that have stories to tell and people screaming to be remembered but it needs passion behind them to make them survive in the modern day. I have never met anyone as passionate as you. The money is obviously… part of it but you care so much. It’s admirable.”

Stede grinned at him. “You’re very kind Ed.”

Ed sighed, more deeply than he perhaps intended, the knowledge of his lie weighing on him more day by day. 

“I sometimes think I’m not a good person, Stede. It’s why I don’t have any friends. Spent a lot of time chasing my career and kind of …forgot to make any real connections. I have Izzy I suppose but even he got married to Teddy last year and I’ve not seen as much of him. Probably my fault for leaving him alone more I guess but still. Fang and Ivan, but I’ve ignored them too recently. Now Mum has gone, I realise I am just… alone. Not had the chance to be kind to anyone lately.” He glanced over at Stede, to find him already looking at Ed, a small sad smile on his face.

Stede nudged his hand forward, mirroring Ed’s actions from a moment ago, gripping Ed’s fingers in his tightly. Ed looked into his hazel eyes, bright and shining with fondness and Ed knew at that moment he’d fallen in love with this crazy man and his genuine care and passion. His warmth and his nature had made Ed feel better and more seen than he had in years.

“I’m your friend,” Stede said firmly. He inhaled, stroking his thumb over Ed’s hand 

Ed scanned Stede’s face for a stop sign but nothing was signalling, if anything Stede was looking eager. Ed was about to lean in to close the distance between them but- 

“Hello boys,” Jack said, a smirk on his face, leaning on the doorframe, his camera in hand. 

They sprang apart and Ed felt like he’d been doused in cold water. 

“Can I help you Mr Rackham?” Stede asked, his voice dripping with that kind of polite venom only certain rich people could pull off. 

“No. Was just filming in the hallway up here and heard you talking,” he shrugged, like it was no big deal that he’d been invading a private moment. “Can’t say I blame you Stedey boy, Eddie and I have had our dalliances. Trust me, I bet he can get you to loosen up a bit,” Jack said with a smirk.

Stede looked over at Ed, hurt in his eyes. “You two used to …” he said, his eyes flicking between them. Ed realised, one more thing he’d omitted the truth about, that he’d never exactly explained what kind of ‘old friend’ Jack was to him. 

“Stede,” he said softly, turning away from Jack but Stede just shook his head, his eyes flicking up to him.

“Your past is your past, makes no odds to me,” he said firmly, with just a minute wobble in his voice, like there was false confidence clinging to the words.

“Anyway Eddie, can I borrow your phone? Need to send an email.  Forgot to charge mine last night,” Jack said, pushing his way into the room, picking up an empty jewellery box left on the side and putting it back down with little caution. 

“Sure, whatever,” Ed dug his phone out of his pocket and threw it to him. 

“If you’re filming here Mr Rackham, we’ll leave you to it,” Stede said pointedly, making his way towards the door. 

“Actually can you stay Ed?” Jack said, tapping away at something on Ed’s phone. “I want to do some walking shots in here and can’t film myself.” 

Ed looked over at Stede, who nodded, flashing him a quick smile. The we’ll talk later somehow apparent in it. 

Stede headed out of the room when Jack tossed the phone back to Ed. “Besides there’s a bed in here, who knows what we could get up to,” Jack joked, waggling his eyebrows. Ed rolled his eyes at him, hearing the pause in Stede’s steps on the landing before they shuffled off again. “Grow up Jack,” he said, taking the camera off him ready to film for him.

“What?” Jack laughed in response. “We used to make fun of guys like that and now you’re all googly-eyed over him.”

Ed didn’t respond; he knew Jack was trying to antagonise him into a defence and he was finally actually the big enough person to not rise to it. He simply shrugged and lifted the camera to film so Jack could talk about the wooden shutters in the room and speculate on the private life of the one of the women who used to inhabit this room in the late 1700s. (“Supposedly she ran away to be a pirate!”)

~

Forty-five minutes later after Ed had filmed Jack run through the segment two or three times as well as getting some B-shots of the room, they began to head downstairs. Reaching the landing, Ed saw Stede stood in the entrance foyer at the foot of the stairs chatting to Lucius, Olu and Frenchie, looking over some kind of plan that Lucius was holding out. Stede looked up and caught Ed’s eye, offering him a quick sweet smile.

Ed grinned back shyly, despite the tug in his heart about the funding. Jack was close behind him, running his hand up the solid wooden banister. 

“Hey Eddie, you remember that old house in Germany we worked on once? The one with the massive staircase? When I managed to slide all the way down it for a laugh?” he said, looking at Ed pointedly.

“Yes?” Ed said questioningly, suddenly dreading where this was about to go. 

“Reckon I could try it here too? Be good footage,” Jack reasoned.

“I mean you’re twenty years older than you were when you did that first time but by all means go ahead and break a hip if you like,” Ed replied. 

“Mr Rackham, I really do have to strongly ask that you don’t do that” Stede said firmly, staring up at Ed and Jack on the landing. 

“What’s the harm blondie? It’ll be fun, be good as a promo shot I can use for you. Live a little,” Jack said, swinging his leg over. “Eddie, go on, film it,” he encouraged. 

Ed hesitated, gaze flicking between Jack and Stede. Stede’s jawline had hardened as he stared at Jack, his eyes furious. 

Ed moved further down the stairway to the landing in the middle close to where Karl and Olivia perched. He couldn't be certain but it seemed as if Buttons was watching Jack too. 

“For god’s sake, this is only going to end in someone getting hurt,” Stede tutted, his arms crossing across his chest. 

“Yeah mate I’m really not sure it’s a good idea,” Olu said in support but Jack waved a hand to them both dismissively.

“Alright,” Ed muttered to indicate he’d started filming and Jack was lifting his foot to start sliding down.

“See Stedey, it’s completely - OH SHIT!” Jack suddenly gained a significant amount of speed as he slid further down the banister, causing him to lose his balance. He kicked out, flailing around, his foot smashing straight into the glass of Karl’s cabinet and his boot kicking the bird hard. 

“Oh fuck,” Ed said, ceasing filming quickly. There was a shocked gasp from Lucius below and in a quick glance behind him, Stede was running up the stairs, fury in his eyes. 

“Owww” Jack whined as he landed in a pile of broken glass on the table where Karl was no more. Ed assessed the damage, picking the poor bird up. Being a taxidermied bird of indeterminate age, he had very little structure to him anymore, Jack’s kick to his body had firmly squished him, his wing broken, a dirty great boot print now embedded onto his side and one of his feet was only just hanging on.

“THAT IS IT. You have no respect for me or my property. Once you get yourself to your feet, I want you gone. No amount of promotion your silly little YouTube channel could give me is worth you spending another moment in my house!” Stede yelled, his hands on his hips, standing over Jack sprawled on the floor. 

Jack stumbled to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. “FINE. This place is dogshit anyway, it’s not even that interesting. The people who lived here, they are not notable, they aren’t special. Nobody cares about the little people. They want the big names, the drama,” he shouted in response, brushing broken glass off his shirt collar. 

Stede shook his head at him. “Then you have fundamentally misunderstood everything I am trying to do here. Get out of here,” Stede said coldly. Ed felt stuck between them, watching like it was a tennis serve. 

“You’ve got your work cut out with this place. A bunch of rubbish in a leaking attic, run of the mill furniture and no funding.”

Shit.. shit shit shit, my phone, he went in my emails didn’t he, the bastard he thought to himself as he felt his eyes widen at Jack, pleading for any last bit of sympathy in his heart. 

“What?” Stede said, his posture suddenly changing, uncertainty creeping in over his face. “Ed what’s he talking about?” 

Jack smirked. “Oh yeah Eddie didn’t tell you did he? Fettering rejected your funding application. He’s been paying your invoices himself.”

Stede looked at Ed, his hazel eyes suddenly piercing daggers through Ed. Ed’s eyes brimmed with tears, his mouth open and closing searching for something to say. He’d been rumbled, he knew this couldn’t last forever. Despite it all, Jack had done the one thing Ed hadn’t even managed to be honest about and he’d hurt Stede more in the long run.

“Don’t bother,” Stede said, breathing deeply to make his voice more sturdy, shaking his head. “You can get out too. If you could kindly refund my invoices too, we will cover it ourselves.”

“Stede please, just let me explain,” Ed managed to croak out, hastily wiping a tear from his cheek. 

“Goodbye Ed,” Stede replied as he bent down to start picking up the largest pieces of broken glass off the floor. Ed noticed the tears brimming in Stede’s eyes too but what could he do? The damage had been done.

Ed nodded, following Jack as he stormed out of the building. He realised he was still holding the body of Karl so he gently handed it to Lucius, who pulled a face. Whether that was at the damaged bird or Ed himself, he couldn’t be sure. 

Ed turned round at the door, watching Stede silently pick up the broken glass, Frenchie heading up to the stairs with a broom and a rubbish bag in his hands to help. He took a final look around the entrance foyer, remembering how intrigued and excited the first time he came in here. He’d royally fucked this up hadn’t he?

“Eddie come on,” Jack yelled. Ed went to turn away but glancing up at the portrait of Buttons, he could have sworn the man’s head had turned just a little bit. Staring directly at Jack in the doorway and he looked thunderous. 

Ed shook his head, it must have just been a trick of the light. He departed Jenkins Manor, feeling like his heart was still somewhere inside it. 

~

Mail to: [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected]

Subject: You have received a payment 

Dear Mr S Bonnet,

£4500 has been paid to your bank account by Mr E D Teach.

If there is an anomaly with this, please get in touch

OFMD Banking

~

~

Stede's phone

~

Ed's phone

~

Ed is googling

Mail to: [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected]

Subject: I need a seagull fixing

Hey mate.

It’s kinda what it says on the tin here - I have a taxidermied seagull from the 1700s in dire need of fixing. He got kicked by a man sliding down the stairs (long story) but it might just help me get back the man I really hope to make my boyfriend one day. 

Any chance it could be a rush job? I will pay double, triple, whatever you need!

Thanks

Edward Teach

Restoration Consultant, 

c/o Fettering! and Co

Mail to: [email protected]

Mail from: [email protected] 

 

Subject: RE: I need a seagull fixing

Hi Edward,

I have … so many questions. 

But this sounds weird and I like weird. Count me in. 

Give me a call - we’ll work it out

Roach 

~

Ed's phone

~

Ed was shitting himself. Not literally, thankfully, but metaphorically. 

It had been a whirlwind of a couple of weeks since his omission about the funding was found out and he had to walk away from the best thing that might have happened to him in years.

He’d yelled at Jack in the car park, telling him he was a dickhead but the truth of the matter was, and Jack even said it himself. ‘ You were going to get found out eventually’.

Ed wallowed in self-pity for a couple of days, making himself a little blanket fort on the living room floor like his Mum used to do for him when he’d had a nightmare as a kid, crying, desperate unanswered calls to Stede so he could explain. That yes, he’d lied and done a bad thing, and he understood if Stede didn’t forgive him but he just had to tell him why. That the house and Stede had got under Ed’s skin and taken up permanent residence there, that he wanted to fight for him to get his house restored and realise his vision. That he wanted to be there right by Stede’s side.

There had been a brief pause in the wallowing when he saw a video from Jack go semi-viral, talking about how on his drive home from Jenkins Manor that evening he had been tailed by a flock of angry seagulls in a rare phenomenon, causing him to drive erratically into a ditch. He escaped with cuts and bruises but his car was wrecked. Ed couldn’t be certain but it seemed like too much of a coincidence so he decided he would never try to piss off the portrait of Buttons.

Then Jack had reminded him he still had his camera. An idea struck in Ed’s mind  - he had Jack’s content, everything he had filmed over those few days he’d spent in Jenkins Manor. He took the memory card out and uploaded it all to his computer. He smiled for the first time in days when he realised what he had. He was going to apologise and with any luck, he’d get his man. 

Ed had dabbled in video editing before but he wasn’t an expert so he’d got in touch with Fang. The friend he had neglected over the last year who welcomed him with a giant bear hug and a caramel coffee waiting for him the second Ed got to his house. He explained everything and Fang had given him a bit of a stern look (as stern as he could get anyway) when he mentioned the funding, or lack thereof. But Fang heard him out. “Sounds to me like he might just need some time Ed,” he had said, patting Ed’s shoulder comfortingly before cracking on with the video.

They had pulled an all-nighter, extracting the footage and sounds they needed. Ed even filmed a little bit extra, which he hoped would get the message across. 

Next, he’d messaged Lucius, who was understandably upset with Ed too, but he seemed willingly to help. When Ed eventually got him on the phone to discuss, Lucius told him he wouldn’t be passing messages onto Stede or telling him how he was but what Ed needed to know is that Stede was hurt but it takes a lot for him to turn his back on someone entirely. Ed had a shot and he couldn’t waste it. He’d also let slip that Stede definitely liked him back, the man had barely taken an interest in anyone since he’d come out despite Lucius finding him blind dates or people he could set him up with.

Lucius had smuggled Karl out of Jenkins Manor as Stede had apparently been spending most of his time holed up in his office, declining any company and occasionally mumbling about being an idiot. Ed managed to deliver it to Roach, who was quirky but kind and managed to restore Karl as good as new (well… maybe his wing was a little wonky now but a healed wing is better than never flying again Ed reckoned)

There had been a couple more emails to send but everything had been fixed yesterday. Ed texted Lucius to get a plan in motion to get Stede to the house. It was make or break time.

Ed was pacing nervously through the entrance foyer, the pop-up screen was up, the laptop primed with the video was ready to go and Karl was standing proudly in his new glass case, back where he should be next to Olivia. (Roach had even kindly upgraded Livvy’s case too for no extra charge, and given her a quick spruce up when he returned Karl earlier that morning.)

A car engine rumbled, causing the gravel outside to crunch. Ed stopped his pacing and took a few deep breaths. 

He couldn’t help but let his face turn upwards into a smile upon hearing Stede’s voice. He’d missed him, not just a casual sadness around not seeing someone for a while, it was a down to the bones sadness at the thought of not being around him. 

The car door slammed and the key in the lock turned. “Yes Lucius I’ve just got here, I’m heading in. I will check the office for your keys but really it’s not like you to be forgetful - are you…..”

The door swung open and Stede froze seeing Ed, the phone still plastered to his ear. 

Ed offered a small wave and Stede blinked a couple of times, glancing over at the set-up Stede had, his eyes landing on Karl and softening just a little. 

“Let me guess your house keys are just fine,” Stede said, down the phone. Ed didn’t hear the response, just saw Stede’s face twitch a little bit. 

“But -” he started to reply.

“HEAR HIM OUT STEDE.”

Well, Ed heard that one.

“Fine,” Stede said shortly. But then the hint of a small smile came back and he huffed out a laugh. “I love you too,” he said, rolling his eyes before ending the call and shoving his phone into his pocket.

He looked good, maybe a little tired. Maybe like Ed, he hadn’t been sleeping that well recently.. He was dressed in tight blue jeans and a simple lavender woolen jumper that fit nicely over his broad chest.

“Hello Edward,” Stede said, finally returning the small wave Ed had proffered.

“Stede.” Ed smiled a small wan grin, stepping forward just a tad. “I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. I know I lied, I know I did an awful thing to you and your crew and this place. I may have ruined the best thing that happened to me in decades and truthfully I have no real excuse other than that I couldn’t bear to be the bringer of bad news and I just wanted to spend more time with you. I am so sorry.”

Stede took in his words, watching Ed with a studious gaze. “You could have just asked to spend more time with me.” He paused before adding quietly. “I wanted to spend time with you too.”

The words stung Ed a little bit, not out of pain, more at how stupid he’d been. He should have just done that, he knows that now. 

“I know. And I’m sorry I let you bring Jack here. I knew he was trouble.”

“He still managed to tell me the truth when you didn’t,” Stede reasoned quickly, his eyebrow quirking upwards.

“Well yes… and believe me when I say that really is a source of embarrassment to me.”

Stede smirked a little. “Good,” he replied softly. He nodded towards the bird. “You got Karl fixed I see. Thank you.”

“Least I could do. He’s a bit wonky now but I think all the best people are,” Ed said, smiling softly as Stede took a tentative step towards him.

“I want to show you something,” Ed said, gesturing to the pop-up screen behind him. “I thought I could try to turn poison into positivity so…. I did this.” Ed turned round quickly to hit play on the video that was pre-loaded up.

Some soft piano music started to play as the video started.

JENKINS MANOR the title card read.

The video showed various clips of Stede and the crew laughing through segments throughout the house, fixing things, the furniture, the damaged chandelier, all composed of random elements that Jack had filmed over the week. There were even a few clips of Ed sprinkled in, a particularly poignant one that Jack had somehow caught when panning a room where Ed and Stede were talking to each other, huddled in a corner chatting while holding a cup of tea each. 

It flickered to shots of the garden in their states of disrepair, the statues begin to crumble and then to shots of Frenchie pulling weeds up, making an effort to beautify the gardens once more. 

A voiceover started over various shots throughout the house of the crew, even a shot of Stede in his tour guide outfit that Jack just about managed to get in shot that very first day. 

I used to spend more time in the gardens here as a child, drawing the flowers, even picking them if the gardener let me help sometimes. I’d listen in on the tours here, hear about the swathes of people who called this place home once. They were all so interesting and vibrant and they shaped this place to be what it is now. A culmination of all of those stories. I felt more at home here with these historical figures than I did in my own house.

Stede’s eyes shimmered when he realised it was his own words, recorded when Jack had been lurking in the corridor when he and Ed were talking the day of the almost-kiss. He looked sideways at Ed before turning his attention solely back to the screen. 

The video suddenly transitioned to Ed, sat squarely in front of the camera talking.

“Hello,” Video-Ed said. “My name is Edward Teach of Blackbeard Restoration, I have worked worldwide as a historical restoration consultant and I am here today on behalf of Jenkins Manor and its proprietor Stede Bonnet to urge you to invest in this project. Jenkins Manor is special, it is quirky, it is interesting, it is full of successful women and queer people and pirates and maybe even an ancient old-sea witch with his beloved pet seagulls. Jenkins Manor was home to these outcasts once and today it is owned by a man who not only treats these people and their memories with the respect they deserve but he is the embodiment of passion and he fundamentally understands the importance of spirit in a historical property. Stede Bonnet is a kind man and in this world today, that should be celebrated. He embraced me with open arms and reminded me how good it is to love something whole-heartedly. Spend five minutes in this house and you will see why he loves it so much”

The video flickered to a final slow-mo shot of Stede laughing, his head thrown back in joy as he stood at the foot of the stairway in Jenkins Manor, Karl and Olivia and Buttons behind him watching over him proudly. Stede’s words closed out the video as it faded to black.

It deserves to go back to its former glory. The people who lived here deserve to be remembered for everyone to learn their stories. 

Stede wiped his face as the video ended, brushing away the tear that had spilled over onto his cheek.

“That was very sweet. Thank you Ed, seriously,” he said softly.

“One more thing I need to show you,” Ed said, he reached behind the laptop to grab an envelope and he handed it to Stede, his outstretched hand trembling just a little. 

Stede narrowed his eyes at him but took the envelope off him. Ed gestured for him to go ahead.

Stede opened it and pulled out a small piece of paper and he slapped a hand across his mouth. “Ed….what did you do?” he gasped, more tears brimming in his eyes. 

“That’s nearly 3 times what we asked for… Ed I can’t accept this.”

“YES. Yes, you can,” Ed said, reaching forward to grab Stede’s free hand. He was trembling now too, his hands shaky with shock. He clasped it between his own and bent down just a little to look directly into Stede’s eyes. 

“I invited Jeffrey here this morning and I showed him the video and around the house, with Lucius’s permission, but I didn’t ask him for the money. I just wanted to show him why I think this place matters too. He signed that just before he left. He remembered you were kind to him at school, he said he never forgot that about you. Said the second he was here your generosity and passion for the place was simply evident. You can bring this place to life, I know you can.”

Stede didn’t say anything, he looked in shock, his eyes were fixated on Ed’s hand that was clasping his. 

Here goes nothing, Teach.

He swallowed nervously before continuing.

“And… on a personal note… this place means a lot to me too. I met you here,” he said slowly, watching Stede’s gaze flick slowly up to meet him.

“I was bored, stuck in a rut, functioning but not living. Then you emailed me and invited me to see your place and your vision. And you, Stede Bonnet, are a wonder. You made me laugh, you made my heart sing again. You reminded me why I wanted to do any of this in the first place. In fact the last few weeks have been some of the most fun I have had in years, maybe ever and I lo-”

Ed didn’t get to finish his sentence, he barely even heard the flutter of paper as the cheque Stede had been holding drifted gently to the ground. Stede Bonnet had stepped firmly forward to wrap his free arm around Ed’s neck and he was pulled into a kiss that quite simply righted the world around him. Stede tasted of tea and cherry chapstick and love and comfort. He sank into it, pushing forward, unclasping Stede’s hand so he could wrap them around his waist bringing them closer, leaving barely a scant inch between their bodies. Ed’s other hand flew up to hold Stede’s cheek as he kissed him back, pouring every feeling he’d had over the last few weeks into him.

Stede pulled back, just for a moment, their faces close and their breath shared. “I love you too, by the way,” Stede giggled, breathlessly, his smile fond and his eyes shining brightly. 

“I’m sorry I was such a dick,” Ed replied, his own chest rising and falling with the heave of breathing. 

“Life’s a dick,” Stede reasoned, before leaning in again and kissing Ed hard, leaving them both swaying on the spot, giddy with excitement for everything they have yet to come. 

Neither of the pair noticed, too busy and entranced with one another as they stumbled down the hall to the sofa in Stede’s office but Buttons, the long standing guardian of Jenkins Manor, smiled for the first time in centuries. 

~

ONE YEAR LATER

They walked up to the front door, down the staircase into the entrance foyer, hand in hand, Stede’s breathing was shaky with nerves and Ed did his best to soothe his partner, keeping him close.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ed whispered just before they got to the door. “Look at this place, you’re a miracle worker,” he gestured around them.

The damaged chandelier now hung daringly and brightly in the hallway where it belonged, Karl and Olivia in their watchful posts on the landing. The floor was repaired, the lighting was fixed, every single room had been lovingly restored, each of them telling a different story of someone who once made this house their home, from every walk of life, every background, every detail about who someone was celebrated. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you, darling,” Stede said sincerely, smiling at him. Ed never tired of that smile. It was the privilege of his life that he got to wake up to that smile every day. In fact, there were endless privileges about being Stede’s boyfriend that he never got tired of. The perfectly made cups of tea at any time of the day, the knee massages, the laughing fits, the comfort of a cosy evening in in their matching pyjamas, the nights they spend together where Stede will have Ed yelling his name out to the high heavens, the constant daily reminder that he is loved and that he loves someone too. Like Stede had once told him, spending every day with your best friend might be nice. Ed could confirm it was the best thing ever, just him and his fellow seagull side by side forever.

“You ready for this babe?” Ed said, sweeping a rogue curl off Stede’s face and kissing him quickly on the forehead. 

“As I’ll ever be,” he said quietly, taking a steely breath in.

Ed stepped back to let Stede open the door himself, a large queue of faces, familiar and new, gathered outside the door enthusiastically. 

“Welcome to Jenkins Manor!” Stede cried out with a flourish, stepping back to allow the crowd in. His beautiful tailored tour outfit adorned his body today and Ed watched him in his element, finally living out his dreams for the house he loved so dearly, talking about it to everyone flocking around him.

Ed tapped his jeans pocket, just checking the small ring box was still there. Gonna be a big day on all accounts he thought to himself. 

He couldn't wait.