“Lest we forget in a time of relative freedom, here’s a powerful vignette of recent bad times when LBGTQ people lived in real fear of exposure. The emotions of an older couple liberated to love by the 1967 change in the law touch the heart, and should remind us how many round the world still suffer in fear.” Polly Toynbee, Orwell Prize-winning political and social commentator for The Guardian, and Orwell Youth Prize 2024 judge
“In very few words, Florence has captured a life-changing moment with clarity and wonder. Of course, the perception of gay people didn’t change immediately with the passing of the law. Older readers still come up to me at events amazed and delighted that a gay marriage can be portrayed without comment in popular fiction and television drama. But this piece marks the beginning of hope.” Ann Cleeves OBE, award-winning novelist
PHOENIX
As I looked up at the clock I realised that I now had a quarter of an hour until William arrived so I decided to open up today’s paper. There weren’t normally many news articles that interested me, but I looked through them anyway. Nationalisation of the British Steel Industry, The Airing of Charlie Chaplin’s Last Film and The Release of the Beatles Album “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”. I was about to put the paper down when a headline caught my eye, and my heartbeat accelerated as I read it.
22/04/1967
As of today, homosexual partnerships between men are legalised. Having been introduced into Parliament earlier this month and with much debate since, they recently approved it earlier this week, now making it legal.
I read it twice more through eyes that burned with tears almost instantly, the second time closing the paper and opening it again, nearly dropping it because my hands were shaking so much, but it was true. We were finally legal.
I couldn’t help but let my emotion out; tears contrasting with my smile as if they couldn’t decide which power should take over, yet with the blossoming of my heart it seemed obvious. It wasn’t very often that I let my emotions get the better of me, but I’d already decided that today was an exception, in more ways than one.
My eyes had now settled on a green and white armchair which was one of the only pieces of furniture that I’d kept since the 1930s and my brain flicked through images of William sitting in it. They compared then and now, young and old, as if my unfocused vision had split it in two.
It reminded me that I shouldn’t worry about the state William found me in; for all I knew he might have a similar reaction, though part of me still believed that my feelings for him weren’t actually reciprocated…
I was snapped back to reality by the click of the door, on time as always, and my heart hammered in my chest as I thought of telling him today’s news.
WILLIAM
When I arrived at Phoenix’s house it had just gone 10:00, and I let myself in with the spare key that he’d given me recently, not wanting to disturb him any more than I had to. The door to his bedroom was open slightly and I couldn’t help but look in to see Phoenix with his head in his hands and, to my observation crying, though with a content look on his face, not with sadness. I realised then how little I’d seen him cry, only when we both returned from war alive, though I had definitely cried then too.
I made my way in and watched as Phoenix looked up at me, the familiar look of adoration piercing through the tears. His blue eyes shone and were as bright as ever, the only part of his face that was still identical to in his youth. Phoenix’s hair also caught the early morning sun, highlighting the white in his fringe.
“Are you alright?” I asked as I sat down on the bed next to him, only realising then that he was holding today’s paper in his violently shaking hands.
“Yes, actually.” he replied before adding, “You should read this,” handing the paper to me so quickly that he almost dropped it.
My eyes were instantly drawn to a headline near the bottom of the page, the first word smudged slightly, as if Phoenix had started tracing it with a wet finger, and I soon realised why.
“What?!” I stuttered out, heart racing as I read the words again and again, checking their reality more times than was necessary.
“I don’t know…” he started, voice monotone, and I replied before he could say something self deprecating like I could tell he was going to:
“That’s brilliant!” I said louder than I probably should have, pulling Phoenix closer into a tight hug before placing a kiss on his cheek; his face blushing instantly, still not used to it after 22 years. He surprised me then by reaching out with a still shaking hand and cupping my jaw before mirroring the kiss but on my lips instead, which seemed to happen rarely despite being together. I guess it could happen now, legally, which I still didn’t think was possible, at least not in my lifetime. But I guess these things happen, however surprising. Most of the time I still don’t understand how my love for Phoenix can be reciprocated, so this would probably also take a long time to get used to.
“We should go out to celebrate.” I suggested, now that we were sitting on the bed wondering what to do with ourselves. Phoenix nodded in agreement before suggesting: “We could go to Friend of Dorothy’s,” which was our favorite café from before the war and one of the only businesses that remained almost perfectly intact, which I still found surprising.
There was no need for any sort of coat today, the weather being an image of perfection; the only cloud in the sky being a small one, almost heart shaped and shaded with light from the sun, which I thought could definitely be a symbol for today.
When we were out of the house I instantly took hold of Phoenix’s hand, without thought on my part, and felt his body flinch slightly away from me, as surprised by my subconscious as I was.
“We should probably still be careful,” he stated as he turned to look at me, his face a mix of emotions that wouldn’t be hard to unpack.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s alright,” he replied as we continued walking along, in step as always. My next idea was to link arms, slotting my left arm through his right, and turning my head slightly to face him and try to see a reaction. After getting nothing from his face I asked him “How about this?” to which he replied, “Perfect.”
We were still catching up on our day spent without each other when I opened the door to the café; eyes instantly drawn to the colour of the deep red roses that occupied every table, and as we walked over to our usual one in the corner, I noticed a label was attached, and I read Phoenix and William through teary eyes.
Phoenix picked up one of the flowers and held it out for me, with slight hesitation, before reaching out and wiping away one of my tears that was glad, like me, to finally be free.
PHOENIX
When I woke up the next morning I realised that it was still early, the orange sun filtering through the curtains that I’d forgotten to close properly, which I decided was probably why I’d woken up. I managed to struggle onto my side to try and get back to sleep when I was reminded of a presence beside me, a warm and steady breath on my neck where William’s head perfectly fitted between my head and shoulder. I let out a sigh followed by a yawn, heart stuttering slightly as I remembered the foreign yet welcome reality we’d come to as partners just the night before.
Instead of going back to sleep I lay there as memories danced through my brain of the forty years we’d known each other, from quiet coffees at Friend of Dorothy’s to our weekly meetings that we both enjoyed so dearly, managing to talk about practically anything for at least an hour with the sun that liked to show itself the minute it turned 10am on a Saturday. They then moved to post-war, when we decided to meet every other day and stayed together for most of it, though always leaving before the sun set, leaving each other to an awfully long day separated. I smiled as I remembered that this no longer had to be the case.
The sun moved as I lay there, getting brighter with every passing minute, streaking over my double bed that had always felt so empty, until it was bright enough to induce a stir from beside me, followed by a stretch, as William started to wake up.
I moved onto my back again and caught a blur of his hair, which was once sand coloured but was now almost completely silver, moving next to me, causing me to turn around again so I could look at him properly. I watched his hazel eyes dart around the room a couple of times as they got used to the light, before he asked me in a voice a tone lower than it normally was:
“Where am I?”
“Home.” I replied with a smile, watching as his mouth mirrored mine when he was reminded of our reality, highlighting the wrinkles around his eyes. The sparkles in them showed nothing but raw and pure joy as he stared into mine, which I’m sure were reflections of his.
We asked previous winners and runners up of the Orwell Youth Prize to interview the 2023 cohort about their Orwell Youth Prize writing. Below, 2023 winner, Heike Ghandi, interviews 2024 winner, Florence Alsop, about character perspective, real life inspiration, and titles:
Heike: The perspective shifts from Phoenix to William back to Phoenix by the end of the story. What made you choose the shift in the narrator and are the names aptronyms?
Florence: Perspective shifts have interested me in writing for a while now, because of how different the characters’ voices can be, and I really enjoy exploring this in my writing. I also thought that because of my choice of topic it’d be interesting to show how my characters experienced the changes in the law differently as it must have been such a personal thing and therefore the characters’ stories would have been as unique as they are. Lastly I tried to mirror Phoenix and William’s voices in the other one’s perspective to show how close they are and could show what they were both thinking, like the mirroring of both Phoenix and William still being surprised that their feelings for each other were reciprocated, which was reflective of them having to hide at the time too.
As for the names, the characters were originally from a book I started writing with one of my friends so we came up with the names together, Phoenix being one of the main characters and William being his partner. In the book William is a singer and Phoenix is his manager. The names are not aptronyms as such but we chose a name each and they just worked, and we haven’t changed them since.
Heike: The ‘Friend of Dorothy’s’ cafe is a beacon of safety for the characters in the story. Were you inspired by a particular place in real life? If not, what do you imagine it to be like?
Florence: The café wasn’t inspired by any particular place at the time of writing but I’ve recently realised it was inspired by one near my house where my family and I often ride to on bikes. It has always had a really cosy and homey feel. It’s the sort that is decorated with mismatched sofas, granny squares and a lot of colour, and always has great cakes and ice creams. It’s just a really nice place where I think anyone would feel safe, and despite my story being set in the 1960’s, I think they’d definitely like it if they were alive today.
Heike: The title of the story perfectly captures the atmosphere of 1967, how did you come up with it?
Florence: I’m not really sure where the original idea came from but it was going to be called ‘love behind closed doors’, but I changed it to ‘opening doors’ to try and reflect the new freedom that came with the changing of the law in 1967, as gay men were allowed to love ‘openly’ rather than having to hide it.