To my Dearest Friend

You have to start somewhere

My whole body hurts as I'm riding my horse. I arrive in the city. I'm happy I wasn't still in Montacute estate or the Boughton or mapperton because however beautiful they may be being near London is very important to me. But apart from our London apartment and estate I much prefer Boughton estate. People call it the english versailles. I just prefer it because most of our art is there and the gardens are an appropriate size, but I am digressing. I arrive in London. I look at the beautiful house I am standing in front of. I want to sigh but I remember in time I really shouldn't. Why am I going here? you might ask. Because I'm going to attempt something stupid after this and I need to do a few things before doing that. I ring the bell.

Martha opens the door. She smiles. 'Boys, master Montague is here I smiles and thank her. I step into the home. Two young boys appear and they both hug me. 'Ezra, charlie!' I exclaim while embracing them. 'What would you like to drink?' martha asks me. 'Whiskey would be delightful Martha thank you,' Charlie grabs my hand and leads me to the living room. 'Where's Cyril?' Ezra asks. I smile. 'I should have told you but he's in France for a bit of time.' he nods. Ezra shows me a stack of pages he wrote. Charlie, who is twelve but I must say he acts immature for his age, wants me to play his favourite part of a song on the piano. 'I promise I will read these Ezra, may I take them with me?' and Ezra smiles and nods. Ezra adores me but more as a mentor a father, charlie sees me as his father. Although I feel guilty about not being able to be here often because of that, I also take pride in it. After a while or entertaining Charlie I play a game of chess with Ezra. 'Why unannounced?' he asks. 'Am I not allowed?' I say while moving my horse. He scoffs, 'It hasn't been two weeks, normally you're far too busy. Are you sick?' I look at him. 'I'm not sick Ezra, don't worry.' 'Are you dying?' 'Aren't we all Ezra?' 'Is that a no?' 'It's a no,' he nods. 'You promise?' 'I don't promise things like that, I'm not a miracle worker.' 'Don't abandon me.' he says. I put my hand over his hand. 'You'll get my money when I die Ezra, as will your brother. You'll be fine without me.' 'What if you get real children.' 'You'll get exactly the same amount as them Ezra, you deserve it.' He sighs. 'I'm overthinking right?' I nod. 'We all are'

I say goodbye to Ezra, Charlie and Martha. I hug them and give Charlie and Ezra a kiss on their head. Ezra looks me in the eye. I smile and walk to my horse. He walks with me. 'You lied didn't you?' he asks. I nod slightly. 'Are you dying? 'not if everything goes according to plan.' I respond. He hugs me 'Thank you for everything. I love you.' I smile and say 'Thank you, I love you too Ezra, you have a lot of potential.' He smiles with tears in his eyes. My lung hurts more than it just did but that might be because I'm thinking too much. I grab something out of my bag. I give it to Ezra. He opens the box, it's one or my signet rings. 'In my eyes you're a montague Ezra.' he smiles and thanks me with tears in his eyes.

I arrive at tite street. I ring the bell. This time Oscar opens the door. I smile. 'Surprise?' he laughs. 'Come in Yves what is it?' I hand him the manuscript. 'I want to publish this, it's been edited by myself three times, I really want to publish it as authentic as possible.' he puts on his pince-nez to read. He frowns as he begins to read. I feel very nervous, and I can barely breathe as he takes his times to read parts of the story. He puts it down and looks at me. 'Yves, this is better than anything I've read, and you know I've read a lot.' I smile. 'Do you think you can manage to get it published under my name?' I ask. He nods. 'why the sudden urge.' I smiles. 'You have to start somewhere Oscar.' 'I agree Yves but why now?' 'I had time to think.' He nods. 'Thank you for all your help Oscar.' he puts his hand on my shoulder. 'You taught me many things too Yves. Take care.' I nod

I arrive in the a bit less rich side of town. I'm here to get something. I'm not proud of it but I will need this. I want to sigh but I don't. I walk into the shop. It's an old friend from oxford who wasn't an aristocrat and the factories of his father burned to the ground. So now he uses his connections to sell things to the less fortunate, and than I mean he simply sells medecine to people who have become addicted to it. I walk inside. 'I'll be there in in a minute.' 'Don't rush' I say. He appears. 'Yves?' I nod 'Nice seeing you too Oliver.' he chuckles nervously. 'Why are you here.' 'Same reason as all the others.' 'Why should I sell it to you? and how do you know I won't tell the press?' I smile. 'Oliver believe me, you have more to lose than I do and I have a secret that could potentially destroy you, a bit of opium is not that big of a deal.' 'Why do you take pride in knowing how to destroy people's lives Yves?' I smile. 'Firstly you're slowly killing people while you know it and secondly, my family has always taken pride in knowing everybody's business.' 'I wonder who knows yours.' He says with a bitter expression. 'Only the walls and the ghosts.' I grab the bottle he put on the counter and pay. 'Good luck' he says. 'We both know you don't mean it.'