Salvia Nemorosa On Sunset Shores

Something Wrong With The City Folk

It was bleak, dreary and cold, the clouds were dull and dismal, lurking in the moonlit skies of London. The weather had been like this for a couple of days now and didn't seem like it would clear anytime soon. Puddles scattered the streets of London on this monotonous winters day. Two men had just ran out of a bar and were heading down the street opposite, after them burst out a slightly younger man.

"Hey, get back here!" shouted Elliott as he ran down the street after two roguish men, the likes of whom aren't to be trusted by even the friendliest of people.

A hearty laugh roared through the street. "Not on your last shilling matie!" replied one of the pickpockets as they turned sharply down a dark alleyway . Elliott had almost caught up to them but as he turned the corner they'd both vanished, with a sigh he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, his dark brown hair hanging in front of a pair of deep, royal blue eyes.

"Great, just great." he said in between breaths

He walked down dimly lit road to his flat, as ever the street was partially lined with street lamps that either flickered every now and again or ones which didn't light up at all. Luckily for the most part there were no puddles, not that he wouldn't have cared much if there were.

"47 Davies Street, ah home at last." he thought to himself as he sighed and opened the door.

"Eve, are you still up!" he shouted, trying to get the attention of his landlady.

"How many times have I told you? It's Miss Ashdown to you." she replied in a rather annoyed tone.

"Ah so you are up, good, could I trouble you as to get me a cup of tea."

"I'm your landlady, not your wife." her voice becoming more frustrated.

He grinned. "And you'll do it all the same." Elliott replied in a slightly cocky manner.

"Why of course Lord Whiteman, could I interest you in scones as well, perhaps some fresh jam and a small pot of clotted cream too? " Eve replied in a really elegant but obviously put on voice.

"How many times have I told you not to call me by that title, you know I gave it up years ago."

"And how many times have I told you not to call me Eve." she replied.

"A valid point Miss Ashdown."

"Thank you Elliott."

"So about the tea?" he questioned as he hung his coat up.

"Yes, yes, I'll bring it up for you."

"And don't forget the sugar this time." he said in a joking manner.

"How old are you?" she replied sarcastically.

"22 if I remember correctly." Elliott replied trying to sound serious.

There was a brief silence before she sighed.

"Fine."

"And don't forget to stir it properly too." He added as he made his way upstairs into his living room, and then sat at his desk, turning to look out of the window at the gloomy weather. "oh how I hate winter." he muttered to himself before turning to face his desk, his papers and old case notes stacked neatly. A moment later Miss Ashdown walked in with a tray, upon which was a cup of tea.

"Miss Ashdown?" Elliott said somewhat questionably.

"Yes dear." she replied as she placed the cup of tea on his desk.

"What did you do to my desk?"

"And there I was hoping that for once you would thank me for my efforts," she sighed "I tidied it."

"It was perfectly fine how is was."

"It was chaos, your papers were were everywhere."

"It was controlled chaos Miss. Ashdown, controlled chaos!" he exclaimed defensively.

Miss. Ashdown simply left the room with a blank but ever so slightly agitated expression. Elliott turned and picked up the cup by the handle and took a sip.

"You forgot the bloody sugar!"

Miss Ashdown didn't reply and instead carried on walking downstairs.

"Oh well it's better than no tea I guess". he mumbled before taking another sip. Elliott re-arranged the papers that were neatly piled up, scattering them around, he'd always preferred his papers this way, being neat and tidy had always been a thing of his past, being a noble, he shivered at the thought, he never liked that lifestyle.

"Lord Elliott Charles Henry Whiteman The Third," he thought to himself. "nobility... That is something I never want back." he said under his breath as he finished his tea and got up from his chair, he walked slowly to the door leading to the stairway.

"Miss Ashdown!" he shouted to his landlady whom was in her kitchen downstairs.

"What is it now?" she replied in a somewhat blank voice.

"I'll be going to bed now..." he turned and added "Goodnight."

"Night then." she replied as he walked off into his bedroom before getting undressed and changing into his pajamas. The pajamas in question were a light, almost faded blue and were probably a size too big to fit on him. Elliott closed his eyes as he rested his head on his pillow.