Chapter 3
Oswald had not expected Lee to show up with Barbara. As they entered the room and he saw the apologetic look on Lee's face, he silently guessed he ought to be glad he hadn't been lying back against those pillows stroking his erection when they had walked into the room. He didn't know when he would get a chance to be alone with Lee again. Leaving the hospital was a daunting prospect, too – he had been there for months and the place had shielded him from the reality of what the outside world was like.
A short while later, as they drove through the city and he looked out the window at the burned ruins and saw the true extent of what the war had done to his city, he blinked away tears. Barbara had glanced back at him and said something about how much the city had changed and how she found it hard to get used to, and he had given no reply.
"Are you okay, Oswald?" Lee had asked as she looked back at him.
He had nodded, then looked again to the ruins as they drove on heading for Barbara's apartment, as he sat there in the back of the car, stiff with tension and discomfort from his aching leg. Everything felt unreal. Seeing the city like this, knowing he was going to stay with Barbara, the absence of Ed at his side, even the fact that he had lost a little weight and his suit felt slightly too loose seemed to remind him that life could never go back to the way it used to be.
They arrived at their destination. Oswald leaned hard on his cane as he got out of the car, feeling thankful that Lee was there to put an arm around him to lend him extra strength. He wasn't sure if he was simply still recovering, or if the shock of seeing Gotham so ravaged by war had drained all energy from his body. Barbara fetched his bags from the car, then they went into the building together, and took the elevator to the apartment.
It was nothing like Lee had expected.
The place was old, the furniture was old and the carpets and rugs were worn down. It was a far cry from the luxury Barbara was used to. But her expensive paintings hung on the walls, here and there she had a few touches of luxury, her expensive clothing was dotted about the place, a coat in the hallway, a silken robe over the back of a sofa, and the smell of designer perfume hung vaguely in the air.
"It's not great here," Barbara said, "But I'm hoping to get a better place - as soon as I can get to my money, and I can find a better place."
Then she opened up a door to a small bedroom where the furniture looked old, but elegant. It was all in dark wood and looked antique. The bed looked comfortable and she had thrown a silken, embroidered blanket over the top of the covers. There was a dressing table and mirror and she had put flowers there to brighten the room.
"This is your room," she said to Oswald, "My room is just across the hall. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway. I'll leave Lee to help you unpack."
Then she walked away, leaving Oswald to limp into the room and look to the window, where he saw a view of the river.
"It's okay here," Lee was saying as she started to unpack his clothing, "It's warm and comfortable. I want you to try and get up every day and get dressed and don't stay in this room all the time. You need to walk about and get used to putting weight on that leg again."
Oswald sat down heavily on the bed, leaned his cane against the wall and gave a heavy sigh.
"I'm so tired."
Lee finished unpacking and went over to the bed and sat beside him.
"That's understandable, it all feels a bit overwhelming for you right now. You need to get some rest. Do you want me to help you get undressed?"
Suddenly there was a smile on his face and a sparkle back in his eyes as he shook his head.
"Who knows what that may lead to!" he said in a low voice, and she giggled, imagining the look on Barbara's face if they had let passion get the better of them.
"She would probably yell at us for getting come stains on her expensive blanket!" he added in a low voice.
Lee laughed again and glanced around to the doorway. Barbara was not in sight.
"I should go now," she told him, and she kissed his cheek.
Oswald wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
"I...I'll...miss you!"
As she heard his speech breaking up she pulled back, noticed tears in his eyes and took hold of his hand.
"I'll be back to visit you," she promised him, "I'll be here at least twice a week. And remember you can call me. I want you to call me! But most of all, I want you to recover. You're almost there, you just need to get your strength back."
Oswald nodded.
"I am determined to do that," he assured her.
Lee let go of his hand and got up.
"I'd better speak to Barbara before I leave, just to be sure she knows what to do with your medication. I'll see you soon."
As she left the room, Oswald laid back on the bed and was pleasantly surprised at how soft it felt. This place was warm, too. Maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad after all, even if he had to live with Barbara...
"Do you have the papers I gave you earlier?" Lee asked as she stood in the front room. Barbara had kicked off her boots, now she was lounging on the sofa after pouring herself a drink.
"I'm sure I have them somewhere..." she raised the remote control and changed channels, finding nothing of interest on the TV.
"It's important you remember what medication he needs, and what time he takes it because he's terrible with pills, he hates them and will avoid them unless you remind him. Also he needs his privacy. He's a very private person. And make sure he gets up every day. Also don't talk to him via his phone, make him talk as much as you can, he needs to practise speaking -"
"Lee, have you finished?" Barbara cut in, "Thank you for the money, it's now in the safe. I'm sure I don't need a list of notes to handle Oswald."
"I just want you to help him!"
Barbara smiled.
"I am helping him, I've given him a room."
Lee felt frustration rising as Barbara sipped her drink again then set it down on the table.
"I'm coming back soon to check on him. You'd better take proper care of him!"
Barbara got up from her sofa and shot her an icy glare.
"Have you finished telling me what to do in my own home?"
"Just take care of him," Lee replied, casting her a stony glance, then she turned away and left the room. As she headed for the front door, she cast a glance back towards Oswald's door, but decided against seeing him again before she left. He was recovering. He needed to be independent. She had to put that before her own selfish needs. Just because he enjoyed the fun they shared, it certainly didn't come first – his recovery did. She opened the door, left the apartment, shut the door behind her and walked away.
By the time she got back to her car, she hoped he would call or message her, but he didn't so she drove away, heading back to work as she tried not to worry too much about Oswald, far away from her help and support and living with Barbara, who didn't seem to care about him at all. While it was true she was only a phone call away, Lee suddenly felt like they might as well be separated by a thousand miles - and how much that hurt felt unexpectedly deep.
Barbara was finishing off her drink when she heard a thump from further up the hallway. She gave a sigh and got up.
"What have you done, Oswald?" she muttered, and she went down the hallway and towards his half open door. She entered the room without knocking.
"What was the noise about?"
Oswald turned sharply from the wall, where his cane had slipped from where he had left it. The cane had hit the table, leaving a scratch on the varnish. But he wasn't staring at her looking so shocked because of that. He was in the middle of getting changed because he was tired and wanted to go back to bed. He had been neatly hanging up his suit, his shirt was off and as his hand flew to his chest to cover one of many scars, he turned away from her.
"Get out, I'm not dressed!"
Barbara was still staring at him. Even his back was scarred. He had old wounds all over his upper body from shootings and knife fights, all the battles and beatings he had taken in the past were forever etched on his body. The scars were pink and livid against his pale skin.
"Sorry," Barbara said, and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Suddenly what Lee had said about him needing his privacy made a lot of sense. Poor Oswald. As that thought came to mind, along with all the times they had been enemies, she felt a sharp sting of regret and as she wondered why and reminded herself she did not feel sorry for him, she went back to the front room and poured another drink. Even the booze didn't help. It had come as a shock that she could feel something so strongly for someone who had once been a deadly rival...
She looked to the window and the view of the damaged city, then wondered if maybe the ties of the past ought to mean more now because everything they had once fought over was ruined, all that was once worth fighting for was wiped away and all they had left was their lives, and this crappy apartment and memories full of bitterness and guilt and the need to mend broken bridges. It wasn't just the city bridges that needed repairing. The personal bridges needed attention too... That thought had also come as a shock.
"Stop it!" she muttered as she helped herself to another drink.
Oswald's notes were on the table. She left them there, deciding she would probably get around to reading them soon. Then she wondered if the bathroom needed cleaning again, and decided she would it later - after she came back. She had cash now, and at least that meant she could get out of here, go for a walk, visit the few places that were open. She needed air, she needed to get out of here... but she wanted that next drink to hit her first, so she didn't have to think about the filthy streets when she left the house.
An hour later, Barbara was braving the chilly air wrapped up in a warm coat as she sat alone with coffee, hoping it would warm her up and sober her up. She had drank far too early that day. And now here she was, alone in an outdoor area at the back of a restaurant in the better side of town, escaping the misery of daily life, but not the misery of loneliness. Then her phone sounded a message alert. She frowned as she looked at the number – she didn't recognise it. She opened the message:
Miss Kean, may I speak with you?
She set a message back:
Who is this?
There was a pause, then a reply came back to her:
I am someone who can help you. I know what you want. I can help you achieve it. There are many powerful people in Gotham who are in the same situation as you – I am one of those people. If you would consider a business partnership, we can both have what we want – power, a comfortable life. There you are, out in the cold, feeling the ice that only the loneliest of people can comprehend. It doesn't have to be that way. I believe you are wealthy? That is a lifestyle I also share. I believe you are interested in a deal, even if you deny it. I hear you are difficult to get along with. Such a shame you view all men in such a dim light. Maybe I should ask someone else...Or do I have your attention yet?
She stared at the message, then glanced around, seeing no one. Who the hell would be contacting her and talking like they were some kind of equal?
You have my attention, she wrote back, What kind of deal are you suggesting? And don't expect me to agree to anything – I don't even know you.
As she waited for a reply, she read the last message again. Someone in this town was actually making plans at last? And they wanted her on their side? She had nothing to lose by talking to the guy. But she certainly wouldn't agree to anything, not until she knew who she was dealing with... Then a reply came back:
I have a business proposal for you. I will need you to pay some cash when it is possible, into a very trustworthy and effective investment that can not fail.
She replied, What is the investment?
The answer came back right away:
Me.
Now her interest had peaked. Who ever this guy was, he was very sure of himself. There were a lot of powerful people in Gotham in her position, waiting for money, waiting for the right time to pull their lives back together... united with another could make it easier – if he could be trusted...
I need to know more. Start with you name. If I've never heard of you, this conversation is over.
She waited. The reply came back:
May I come to your home to discuss this matter? Trust has to begin somewhere and I do not take orders from others. Be clear on that now, Miss Kean. Could it be possible for you to arrange to be alone? I understand you have taken in the former mayor. This troubles me – the whole city knows what a mess he made of his job last time. I am also at a loss as to why you would want to share your bed with that little freak. What is there to like about that repulsive little man? He should go. He's really not your type at all.
Barbara stared at the message, angered by his forceful attitude and the notion that he dared speak to her in this way. The thoughts were flying from her head and to the phone as she replied before she gave much thought to what she said:
I take orders from no one! My relationship with Oswald is not what you think and you have no right to call him a freak! Ironic that a stranger messaging me like they think I'll obey them when we don't even know each other, would have the nerve to call another man a freak. I think we know who the freak is, anonymous caller! Oswald was wounded in the city war. He's been through hell. I would rather help him than you. Can I make that any clearer?
There was a brief pause.
So you have feelings for this man?
NO! she responded.
Liar! Came the reply, Never lie to me again or there will be consequences! Consider my deal. I shall be in touch.
Barbara stabbed at the screen in anger as she sent her reply:
Fuck you!
This time, no reply came back. She finished her coffee even though it was growing cold, then she got up and left and headed back home. As she made her way through the busy, dirty streets she felt anxious as she wondered who could have got hold of her private number, and who would have known that Oswald had just moved in. It sounded like he hated him. That worried her. Oswald didn't need an enemy turning up, not while he was still recovering. She made a mental note to keep her gun close at hand all the time, just in case anyone broke in. Then it occurred to her that she was worrying more for Oswald than she did for herself.
"Stop it, Barbara," she muttered as she reached her destination, "If you think you care about Oswald, you really have lost your mind..."
When she got back to her apartment, she quietly pushed open his door and looked in. He was on his side, turned away from her, in bed, under the covers and sleeping heavily. She closed the door and then checked the heating, noticing it was slightly cold, and turned up the thermostat. Another thought hit her: I didn't just do that to keep him warm. I'm just turning up the heating...For no reason? She shook her head, dismissing that thought, then decided to go and clean the bathroom, if only to push away thoughts of how her once shining city was now a pile of rubble and filth.
The days passed by. Lee called and asked how Oswald was doing, because she hadn't heard from him. Barbara said he was fine, leaving out the part that they avoided each other and barely spoke. Then she asked to speak to him and Barbara knocked on his door and as he said come in, she looked in on him and told him Lee was on the phone.
Watching him talk to her, she noticed his voice became warm as his eyes lit up and he smiled. He told her he was just fine. He didn't mention how she left him alone most of the time or how his meds were all on the table next to the bed and she hadn't even bothered to read the instructions Lee had left her. That surprised her, Oswald had not said a bad word about her in the half an hour he was on the phone... She had expected him to say how she had done nothing to help him, but he didn't do that. When the call ended and he gave the phone back to her, Barbara looked at him curiously.
"You're not required to be nice to me."
Oswald was fully dressed but sitting on his bed. He gave a shrug.
"What is there left to fight over? We never did get along too well, did we. But everything we wanted to own is in ruins. That's a clear indication that we should draw a line under the past. New beginnings can be positive, Barbara."
She looked at him in surprise.
"Your speech didn't falter once!"
He smiled proudly.
"I've been practising. It seems practise makes perfect, or at least, near perfect."
Barbara smiled.
"You've been talking to yourself?"
"Due to lack of company, it was the...the only...method I could employ."
There it was, a just a short break in a sentence after so much flowing speech. Oswald was certainly improving.
"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" she asked, "We could talk together. I'll get your speech flowing."
He looked at her, as so much of the past rushed back at him. But he remembered the present, one look out the window was all he needed to be reminded the past was gone.
"Yes, I shall join you," he replied, "It might be interesting."
Barbara suddenly felt tense. They had such a history between them, and most of it not good at all.
"See you at dinner," she replied, then she left the room.
Later that evening, Barbara made an effort for the first time since Oswald had arrived. She even dressed for dinner in an elegant white silken dress and worn some gold jewellery. There were candles on the table but her intention was far from romantic – she just wanted to bring back a little of the former luxury and comfort she missed so badly these days. She had cooked steak for dinner, and at first they ate in silence, then she paused to sip her wine.
"You're not drinking, Oswald?"
He looked tired as he met her gaze across the table.
"I can't drink alcohol with my pain medication – unfortunately."
She looked to the glass she had poured for him.
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
He forced a smile.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does!" she got up and took the glass away, went out to the kitchen and returned with a glass of mineral water.
"Sorry," she said politely.
Oswald was looking at her thoughtfully.
"You didn't read my notes."
"I will get around to it."
He looked down at the table, then away to the window as a worried look came to his face. Barbara had noticed.
"Oswald?"
He gave a sigh and looked back at her.
"This is hard for both of us, with so much animosity in the past between us... I must confess, when Look at you, I...I..." he paused, feeling tension blocking the flow if his words, "I can never forget certain events. The fact that you once loved the person who killed my Mother."
As he looked at her, he felt an ache in his heart for her involvement with Tabby. He could still recall the sight of them embracing as lovers, Barbara welcoming her into her arms, that woman who put a knife in his beloved mother's back...
She could barely meet his gaze as she saw the accusation in his stare.
"She also killed me once! And I parted company with her a long time ago. By the way, I never approved of her killing a defenceless old woman!"
"But you still took her in your arms, took her to your bed with blood on her hands! You knew my Mother was held captive, you went along with their cruel plan!"
Bitterness shone in his eyes.
"Is that what I get for taking you in? The past thrown in my face like I was the one who killed her? You're so fucking ungrateful! We've both lost everything, I've given you a place to stay and you're making me think back to a time I wish I could forget?"
Oswald shot her a stony glare. He had dragged up a painful memory, maybe because the past was so far away now and he couldn't bear to let his Mother's last moments slip further into the mists of time. But thinking about that terrible day made hatred blaze in his eyes as he looked at the woman who had loved his mother's killer.
"I would rather you stole my kingdom from me a … a THOUSAND times over than remember...w...what she did... to her, your lover, who killed the only person who EVER... loved me!"
Barbara wanted to feel angry. Instead she felt a sharp pain in her heart as her eyes stung with tears.
"We all make mistakes! Are you telling me you've never fucked up, Oswald? You've never messed up any plan, never seen everything you worked for fall apart, never lost a lover, never made a wrong decision? Are you really so perfect?"
He opened his mouth to speak but words failed him, the overload of emotion had stopped his speech from flowing as he tried and failed to pull the words together in his head.
Barbara got up sharply from the table.
"Nothing to say? Oh, I forgot – you can't speak when you get worked up! Which as far as I'm concerned, is wonderful! Oswald without his smart mouth, what a gift to the world! Finally, you've shut up!"
She got up sharply and left the room, taking her drink with her. Oswald blinked away tears and leaned on the table as he rose from his seat, feeling deeply hurt by her cruel words. Then he leaned hard on his cane as his damaged leg ached from his ankle to his knee and pain throbbed in his hip. He was not strong enough yet to go anywhere, but he wasn't about to stay with Barbara for a minute longer...
He went back to his room, threw on his coat and then left the apartment. Outside the air was cold and dusk was drawing in, the streets looked dim and icy and as snow started to fall he shivered, feeling the cold cut through his coat, but he kept on walking despite the cold and the pain in his weak leg, wanting only to be as far away from Barbara as he could possibly get...
Barbara didn't know he was missing at first, she had gone into the front room and taken a drink, then she had paused for thought, wishing she had not let her temper get the better of her. They had done each other wrong but the past was gone. Of course he would never forget she was once the lover of his mother's killer, he couldn't forget that. But if she could forgive the past, she was sure he could lay it to rest, too. He had spoken to her as if she may as well have thrown that knife instead of Tabby...It seemed the very worst of memories were surfacing now, when the city they had fought over was in ruins and no kingdom was left to rise from the ashes of destruction. The past was gone, yet it still haunted them both...
"Oswald?"
She knocked on his bedroom door and got no reply. She called him again, then quietly turned the handle and went inside, and that was when she felt a flicker of alarm: No Oswald...
She searched the apartment, then felt even more alarmed when she returned to his room and saw his phone on the bed. He had left his phone behind? Where the hell was he?
The phone was unlocked. She accessed his messages and found a conversation with Lee:
How are you this evening? She had asked.
Very well, thank you, Oswald had replied, I am having dinner with Barbara tonight.
Is she treating you okay? Lee asked.
His answer stunned her as Barbara read on:
Yes Lee, under the circumstances Barbara has been so kind to me. I fully understand the two of us might struggle to get along, but she is doing her best to help me. I'm starting to think what a nice person she is. I've never seen her like this before, I've never really got to know her and I think in time we could become close, I mean friends or, who knows? I don't see her as I used to. I'm liking her more with every passing day. She's so tense around me but that is starting to ease now. May I have your honest opinion?
I'm always honest with you, Lee had replied.
Do you think a friendship with her would be wise? I know you have Ed to think of and our friendship is a separate issue, I suppose I'm asking if you would object to me attempting to form a closer bond with her. She's not the woman I thought she was. There is so much more to her. And she is as lonely as I am.
Lee had replied:
I want you to be happy, with someone who can be there for you all of the time. This war has changed all of us. Maybe you and Barbara could be good for each other.
Oswald had sent a short response:
I think perhaps she needs to heal from the past as much as I do. I know that kind of pain in a persons eyes, it is unmistakeable. Thank you Lee, and I'm looking forward to seeing you soon. Ours is a bond that must never be broken, my dear.
Barbara felt stinging tears fill her eyes as she put the phone down. She thought Oswald had hated her. She had never been so wrong about anything...and he wasn't here - he had walked out, he was out there somewhere on those filthy, dangerous streets, with nowhere to go and it was freezing tonight... She felt a sudden wave of panic.
"Shit!" she said, as she grabbed her coat and her car keys, then she hurried from the apartment.
Oswald had walked a short distance from the apartment, the snow was falling and the ground was slippery with ice patches, making it hazardous to navigate with a cane. Twice he had slipped, the first time, the cane had saved him, the second time, it had been the cold getting to his damaged leg that had been to blame as he slipped and his leg gave way and he landed hard on his side. He looked up sharply, remembering the streets were full of dangerous and desperate people, but thankfully he was still on the better side of town and while a few people on the other side of the street cast him a glance, they didn't come over to help, guessing it was best, in this ravaged city, not to help a stranger under any circumstances.
He was shivering as he got up and the ache in his leg went bone deep. There was a sharp pain cutting into his head too, right through the scar that was hidden by his hair now, the scar caused by the surgery to remove the bullet almost a year ago. It felt like the cold was cutting right through it, and the feeling made him nauseous. As he started to feel dizzy, he sat down on a step that led to the entranced to a closed store, then he pulled his coat closer and huddled in the doorway, wondering how far it was to Ed's apartment, and if he could make it in his weakened state. The cold was getting to him fast as he shivered again.
"Oswald!"
Through the light veil of falling snow that was melting as it hit the side walk, as he raised his head he saw a car had pulled up. Barbara got out with a blanket, threw it around him and as she pulled him to his feet, he grabbed his cane, leaning on it as he managed to stand. He could barely walk as she led him to the car, then she opened the back door and helped him inside.
"I'm sorry," she said as he sat there shivering, " What I said about your speech – that was very cruel. I apologise."
He was too cold to summon a response. She pulled the blanket tighter about his shoulders, then closed the door, got into the drivers side and started the engine and quickly headed back the way she came, wanting to get Oswald back home as quickly as possible.
Oswald was glad of her arm around him as they made it back to the apartment and she closed the door behind them, sealing in welcoming warmth that seemed to lift the worst of the cold from his aching bones. It had vaguely registered that there was suddenly a big change in Barbara's attitude, but he was still too cold to care about anything – even about the fact that they didn't go as far as his bedroom, instead, she led him into hers, pulled back the covers and sat him down on her bed. She took his cane away then started to undress him, but her eyes locked with his, wanting to spare him the discomfort of thinking she would see his scars again.
"I can manage, thank you," he whispered, then he shivered again.
"No," Barbara said, "Not today. I'm going to take your clothes off, put you to bed and put some extra covers on to help you warm up."
He said no more as she undressed him, he was still too cold to protest as she helped him into bed in just his underwear, then she turned the covers back and instantly, the worst of the chill was gone. He gave a sigh as he rested against a soft pillow that carried the scent of her perfume.
"Now you stay there," she said firmly, "Get warm and rest. I'm only in the next room, I have some important reading to do. And Oswald, don't scare me like that again!"
"I apologise," he murmured, then comforted by the soft warmth of her bed, he closed his eyes as the shivering stopped, and slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Barbara checked on him twice while she made coffee, then she sat down at the kitchen table and started to read his notes:
He was supposed to take painkilling pills every morning to help his leg. She hadn't given him any since he had arrived. It had been almost two weeks... He needed a hot bath every day, massage was helpful too, and he had medication for headaches that she had forgotten about. As she looked through the instructions, she read everything twice, then set the paper down again, making a decision: Things would change.
Poor Oswald must have felt lousy since he arrived, she had done nothing to help him and he had stayed silent about that, saying such nice things about her to Lee. She had never imagined he could be so kind. The way he had walked off had given her a scare, too – he could have died out there in the cold. His notes said he was still recovering, and still vulnerable, he needed to be kept warm while he recovered his strength. He could have frozen to death tonight... Barbara felt strangely emotional as she made her decision, and this time, she didn't question it :
Tomorrow, when Oswald woke up, he would see a very different side to her. She was about to start showing him she could be kind, she wanted to be kind, she was going to make him feel welcome here, and cared for. She was going to show him a side to her that she usually hid from the world, the side of Barbara Kean that actually had a warm and caring heart...
The snow turned to rain later that night, and it came down heavily, ice cold and freezing, and as it ran down the window of the apartment she shared with Ed, as they lay in bed and Ed slept deeply, Lee was wide awake. It seemed Oswald was settling in well with Barbara, and that had come as a surprise. But she was glad for him because now he had a place to stay, she was sure he would recover completely. She would have to visit soon – but not yet. She wanted to be sure she could resist him if she found herself alone with him – these complications were not helping anyone, least of all Oswald.
Lee turned over in bed and watched Ed as he lay sleeping There was a livid bruise on his cheek. A guy had come in to buy drugs, there had been a quarrel over prices and they had got into a fight before his hired guns had a chance to wade in and drag the guy out of there. This time it was just a bruise. Ed had laughed it off, but as he had hugged her, he had felt cold, too cold even for the weather to take the blame, and he had been trembling. But it wasn't putting him off. He was going out there again tomorrow.
The cash he had put down on the table when he came home was the incentive that kept him going back for more. He was blind to the danger – either that, or his split persona was encouraging him to carry on, seeing it all as a fun game. Lee worried herself sick about him on most days. Now, that worry had just increased.
But Ed was sleeping soundly and she let him carry on sleeping, knowing her words of warning would have no effect. She turned on her back and watched the rain falling as it ran down the window, and then she thought of Oswald, and she smiled as she pictured him sleeping well, warm and safe in Barbara's spare room. At least one person in her life who mattered was no longer a source of worry. She wished she could say the same about Ed...
