Letters to Juliet

by Leia's diary

IT IS TOTALLY PROHIBITED TO PUBLISH THIS STORY ON ANY OTHER PAGE, FACEBOOK GROUP OR BEING NARRATED ON YOUTUBE! 10 years elapsed since Candy's return to Pony's home. As a birthday present, she's been offered a journey to Italy. But she must leave from New-York, the city in which Terry lives... (based upon CCFS by Keiko Nagita)

5. Chapter 5

I wonder how you can eat that!... – launched Patty with a disgusted look as Candy feasted on a snails plate with garlic herb butter. That latter, busy in the dislodging of the gastropod from its shell, answered her, a greedy smile on her lips.
- You should taste that, Patty! It's very good!
- No, thank you very much, indeed! The only idea to bring to my mouth one of those caterpillars makes me sick!
- You should chase that from your mind! It's excellent! Those French people are really very gifted at cooking!
- They are mainly talented to make us eat anything! That noon, you asked for some frog legs, and tonight, you are devouring those horned things! Knowing that we'll take the train tomorrow morning is a relief to me. I wouldn't have born one more plate of that kind.
- This is really a pity… - said Candy, a tiny hint of regret in her voice – but I would have really loved to taste the calf's head sauce gribiche and tripe with the mode of Caen. Hummmmmm!
- Oh, undoubtedly Candy, you are incorrigible! I wonder if you are not doing that on purpose to make me mad!

A malicious smile appeared on the young blonde's lips who was delighted to tease her friend. Mischievous-humoured, she was entertaining herself with Patty's sensitivity, little attracted by those culinary curiosities. But, as she noticed that she had barely touched at her plate, she regretted to have upset her appetite.

- I'm sorry, Patty. I didn't want to disgust you from eating. We were so lucky to have tonight that table at Maxim's. I regret to have spoiled your pleasure, forgive-me – she did, contrite.
- Don't worry, this not your fault. I feel a bit queasy since a couple of days. My stomach might have not gotten used yet to all those changes in food.
- Do you think it will make an effort for the dessert? I have seen on the menu that they were proposing some tarte Tatin. I've been told it's delicious!
- Excellent proposal! I had the opportunity to eat some once, and it's very good indeed!

Candy waved at the waiter to make an order. He arrived immediately, wearing a virginal white apron, belted at the waist.

- One tarte Tatin for these ladies. Excellent choice! – he said as he wrote down the order on little notebook.
- My friend has her stomach a little bit upset. It's not too heavy at least? – asked Candy, worried, with a little clumsy French. Her French lessons from Saint-Paul were very far now and were difficult to remind of.
- Heavy? – Trembled the waiter's dark moustache – These are just little pieces of caramelized apples covered with a puff pastry. The Chef's one is a remedy for all ills, you'll see it!
- I'm eager to be cured then! – said Patty, giggling.
- We usually serve it with a light hint of whipped cream – pointed out the waiter.
- As you've indicated it was "light", it shouldn't hurt us… - added Candy, her eyes just glittering with mischief.
- Here, Miss, we only do well to people. It's written on the restaurant's rules!
- I guess I'm going to take you at your words, sir. I'm expecting you to give her appetite back to my friend.
- Consider your wish granted! – Nodded the waiter. Then he went quickly to the kitchens.

Sitting on the bench, Candy stretched up discreetly with a sigh. She did not dare to confess to Patty that she was dying to take her shoes off. They were making her suffer horribly. They had so much walked in Paris since their arrival in the middle of the morning, that her feet had tripled in size. As they were going to take the Orient-Express the following day only, they had wanted to take profit of the few hours they had to visit the most places possible, and presently, as they were dining in one of the most luxurious restaurants of the city, her legs and her feet were painfully reminding her of all what she had made them suffer. However, she did not regret that crazy day in the capital: the dizzying point of view of Paris from the Eiffel tower, Montmartre district with its painters and its performers, the Champs-Elysées and its Triumphal Arch to the glory of Napoléon. They had been, anyway, bowled over as they discovered the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a soldier whose identity had been unable to be recognized and who had fought in the last world war. That tomb symbolically represented every soldier killed during that war, and the two young women had had a very moved thought for all those fallen young men and teens. Alistair's memory had become even more vivacious and painful at that time. An eternal flame was lit in front of the tomb and revived each evening, on the end of the day (and still is), and this warmed up Candy's heart to know that her beloved friend, and all his companions in misfortune were not forgotten. They had also walked along the Tuileries Garden then had followed by Le Louvres Museum because Patty absolutely wanted to see with her own eyes the famous painting of Leonardo da Vinci: the Mona Lisa. This painting was under strict surveillance after having been the victim of a robbery in 1911. It had taken more than three years of investigation to find it back in Italy, and it was in 1914 only, that it solemnly came back to France. Painted on poplar wooden panel, the Giaconda's face used to let perplex many of its admirers by the mystery that it exuded. It hadn't been different with Patty who had remained a long moment contemplating the work of that genial Italian artist.

- Do you know that some historians pretend that Mona Lisa is a man? – had she whispered to her friend who was becoming impatient.
- Who knows!... – had replied Candy with a thoughtful look – Don't you think that they all look like to each other on those paintings? It would seem they all come from the same family…
- That must be the results of consanguine unions… - had chuckled Patty with a disgusted grin – Marriages between cousins were popular at that time…
- The Leagan might have then inherited the same habits with their silly idea to make me marry their glorious son. Though we do not have any tie of blood, he remains in fact my cousin!...
- Stop, please! You are going to make me have nightmares! – had giggled Patty.
- You're right. I shudder just evoking that donkey of a Daniel. Brrrr!
- Come with me, let's go outside to warm us up. Paris under the July sun is really wonderful and I don't want leave a crumb behind.
- As we talk about crumbs, I'm feeling a little peckish. I'd like to taste their famous sandwich with butter and ham.
- My word, Candy, you can't stop thinking about food! We've left the restaurant two hours ago only!
- Everything is so good here, Patty! You can't blame me for this!
- What I'm reproaching you is that you don't get any weight in spite of all what you swallow! If I followed your rhythm, I would be as big as a whale!
- Listen, let's split the difference! – had she proposed as she showed her a page from their touristic guide – Let's take the Metropolitan for Saint-Germain district. We could sip lemonade at the Café of Flore's patio as I would taste that famous ham-butter – had she added with a little nudge of connivance – Then we could rummage in the bookshops that are very numerous there. The guide says that we can discover real little wonders there.
- Good idea! Finally your ogre's appetite has some advantages…
- Indeed!
- Let us not delay then! The afternoon is already nearly over!

The two friends had then ended their day in Saint-Germain-des-prés district, place that attracted the intellectual elite, in which the greatest philosophes, writers and comedians used to meet to remake the world. In the patio of Café de Flore, it was not long before Candy order her famous sandwich that got devoured in few minutes. She didn't know that in reality, that loaf of bread cut all along its length, spread with butter and inside which was placed a thin slice of coked pork ham, was (and still is) he archetype of the workers' meal who used to eat it at noon in the bistros. Finally sated, Patty had taken her to some second-hand bookshops that exhaled pleasant smells of old papers. She had finally found there a first edition of "Les Misérables" by Victor Hugo, one of her favourite authors and had rushed to buy it. Then they had come back to the Ritz, their hotel located in Place Vendome, in which they were staying for the night. After having relaxed in a good bath and changed of dress, they had come to Maxim's, in which Albert had booked the best table. Candy and Patty couldn't stop marvelling of the care he had paid in the organization of that journey. They were wondering how they would be able to thank him for so much generosity. But presently, they were degusting a delicious tarte Tatin that only increased their gratitude towards him. Candy regretted yet to have to leave so quickly the city of lights but she guessed that Albert had many more surprises in store, which could only end with a flourish when she meets Terry again. Unfortunately, she ignored that although closer from her than she thought, that reencounter was becoming uncertain and may-be impossible, slowed-down by a cruel fate that seemed to have any limit.

Terry looked at himself in the mirror of his bathroom and readjusted his tie. Having lost everything in the sinking, his father had made bring to him some new clothes to have him dressed decently as soon as his health condition would allow. He had waked up in the room of the South Devon Hospital of Plymouth three days ago, and though his body remained yet wholly aching, he was recovering slowly. He had only kept a partial recollection of the accident but what he remembered of the events continuation was from the Duke's tale that he had learnt in his turn from the surviving crew.

Terry recalled that when entering the engines room, he had been surprised by the thick black smoke that prevented him from seeing distinctly around him. But quickly, the burning oil emanations had made the air unbreathable. He wanted to find Cookie as soon as possible and both runaway from there. While seeking his friend with touch, he called him several times without any answer in return. Some water had begun to trim by the break and its level had begun to rise ominously and threatened to lead to a new explosion. On the other side, they were lacking of oxygen, making him sick. If he did not find back Cookie quickly, he would certainly lose consciousness, and they would both die in the flames or asphyxiated. As he was losing any hope, he had stumbled on something. Lowering down, arms straight, he had finally discovered a stretched out inanimate shape: Cookie! Without waiting any further, he had begun to lift the body up, but he did not have forces enough because of the lack of oxygen. The storm was still shaking the boat in all directions, and was brutally pushing him against the machines, making him lose his stability. Several times, the chock had almost made him lose Cookie, so well that he clung to him desperately, knowing that if he dropped him, he would be unable to find him again. His lungs were painfully making him suffer. He had to react quickly! Reuniting his remaining strength, he had started again to drag Cookie towards the exit that he hardly could see, far behind him. He was progressing slowly, in part due to the water that slowed him down, but mainly because of the thick smoke that prevented him to breath. Breathless, his lungs almost exploding, he had finally managed to come out from the heat, carrying with him his still unconscious friend. Then, in turn, he had lost consciousness and had only awaked two days later in that hospital room.

He had been told that a Canadian boat had picked up their distress message and had come and rescued them. Then they had sailed to Plymouth harbour, the English closest town susceptible to have a hospital. When getting the emergencies, Terry had been registered under the name of Baker because it was under that pseudonym that the crew knew him. During the examination, the doctor noticed the gold ring that he was wearing at his right hand, and he thought that he was not dealing with an ordinary sailor. He had taken off the ring from Terry's finger for a better look, and had noticed the emblems engraved on the flat setting, while inside, he found out an inscription with the name of Grandchester. He had not find any difficulty to relate it to the aristocratic family of the same name, very well-known and respected in England. He had then moved quickly to contact the Duke. That latter, when learning the news, had rushed to his son's bedside, only leaving the bedroom to ask the doctors about his health condition. In his bad luck, Terry had been very fortunate. The smoke gas hadn't damaged his lungs too severely. However, he would have to stay with an unpleasant cough that should disappear in few weeks. But his condition had no comparison with Poor Cookie's one who suffered many burnings and several fractures that required him to stay in bed for a long time. But he was alive, he was going to recover, and that was very important to him.

Terry passed his hand over the stitches that had been sewed over his left eyebrows. Because of the numerous chocks his body had suffered during the sinking, he was unable to say how he had been injured, but he knew that it would recall him forever of that tragic event. Far from disfiguring him, it emphasized the mystery that emerged from all his being. He began to think then that it could be an advantage to help him in the interpretation of graver characters in the future. He did not intend to play male leads indefinitely, roles that were usually assigned to him. But the hardship he had been through had brought a new look to his work. It was time for him to take part into more complex characters, and if they were not proposed to him, it was up to him to create them!

But for now, it was not the moment to question about his artistic future. He had a bigger concern in mind: Candy. Contrary to the exaltation that had inhabited him since their reencounter in New-York harbour, he was experiencing a deep feeling of desolation and depression. Since his recovery, one nagging question haunted him: Did he have really to find her back? What could it lead to but a disaster, so much being alongside him resulted into misfortune for his surrounding? Yet in Saint-Paul, his relationship with Candy had led to her locking-up and her expulsion from the College. Then Suzanna had lost her leg as she tried to save him, and now, Cookie who had helped him to leave America, was suffering countless pains in that hospital bed. No, he did not want to run that risk with Candy. He brought to much bad luck to all who approached him. It was better for her to stay far from him. Because of that decision, he might feel forever miserable, but at least, she would remain safe. He went and sat down on the edge of his bed and plunged wistfully his face in the hollows of his hands. Taking that decision was shooting him through the heart, but he knew innerly that it was the right one. In spite of this, it was the most painful one he had had to take in his whole life.

Someone nocked at the door and he looked up, his throat thick with tears. His father was standing in front of him. In spite of the years, Terry was still impressed by that latter who was looking at him without letting escape any emotion. However, he had felt a degree of concern on his face when he had waked up at the hospital, a demonstration of fragility that he had quickly controlled and hidden since he was reassured about his condition. The young man was also aware, thanks to a nurse's indiscretion, that the Duke was staying in an hotel of the city to be close to him but he had taken care no to tell it to him. That lack of communication between them was not a surprise to him. It had always been that way and he had gotten used to that. The rare exchanges they had had during his life had always concerned his education. Regarding the last talking they had had few years before, it had particularly ended badly as it was about his decision to relinquish the name of the Grandchester.

- You can deny your origins, Terrence, but whatever you do, you'll remain a Grandchester ! – Had cried out the Duke angrily banging his fists on his fine wooden desktop – My blood runs through your veins, whether you like it or not, a noble blood, heritage of fearless and valiant warriors with knightly honour, who built the reputation of our family! Our ancestors must be turning into their graves!
- Is it then what matters you the most, father? The family reputation while you did nothing to give me, even the illusion, that I was one of its members?
- I gave you a name, an education…
- Yes, indeed, but in the bottom of your heart, I've always remained in your view your illegitimate child, your bastard, the one that you however took from his mother! Why did you do that? Why such cruelty?
- You were still my son, Terrence… You had to come and live with me… Contrary to what you think, that was not an easy decision to take, believe me…
- I'ven't been believing nothing from you for a long time, father, neither waiting anything… I desperately asked for your help one day. That was the first and only time, and by your refusal, ma life has been changed forever. I would have been able to forgive you anything, father, but not for abandoning your son while he was begging you to help him. A single action from you would have been able to give another meaning to my life. Blue blood runs through our veins, we both bear the name of Grandchester, but this does not necessarily mean that you've been a good father. So, please, do not ask me to have a hint of recognition towards that family that does not mean anything to me but contempt for its outdated rules. Farewell!

Terry had left without turning back, well determined to forget anything that could link him to his family. He had taken the name of Graham that was his second firstname and kicked into the long grass the surname of Grandchester. Since that day, he had not given any sign of living to his father, neither thought about visiting him, convinced that the next time they would meet each other, would be for the funerals of one of them. But as they were facing each other, he wondered what fate had planned for him for having so valiantly forced this reencounter. It was indeed short on enthusiasm, but what he had briefly read in his father's gaze when awakening, suggested that that latter might have some affection for his son. When looking at him, Terry had for the first time the feeling that his heart was warming up, and a strange sensation, both surprising and destabilizing, invaded him.

- I'm here to pick you up, Terrence. Are you ready?

Terry nodded as he took his jacket that was on the edge of the bed, and made it rock over his shoulder. The doctor had allowed him to leave the hospital but he had to stay for a few days in the family residence to recover definitively. He had quietly forgotten to inform his father that he intended to go back to America the following day.

- I'd like to go and visit Cookie before leaving, if you don't mind, father.
- Of course. Let me guide you to his bedroom. It is at the bottom of the corridor.

The two men walked along the hall and parted only in front of the young sailor's bedroom. A nurse, with voluptuous allure, was finishing tying his bandages, and stretched up with a smile when seeing the seducing and elegant young man who had entered the room.

- Oh, Mr. Grandchester! Ready for leaving?
- As you can see, miss…
- It is so regrettable to see you leaving so quickly! I would have been very able to take care of you. We are going to miss you! – She said while giving him one of the most eloquent languid gaze as she reunited all her instruments.

Embarrassed, Terry mumbled few words of thanks and looked down as she brushed past him, with her rolling gait, to go to another patient. Once far away, he sighed with relief and ran and sat down near his friend who was both chuckling and wincing in pain. With casts at a leg and a arm, half his body covered with bandages, he looked like a mummy among comfortable pillows. But the twinkle in his mischievous eye that could be seen under the band-aids reassured Terry about his moral condition.

- I thought she was going to jump on you, buddy! Thank goodness I was there!...
- I don't want to sound presumptuous, my poor Cookie, but I think that you would not have been of much help for me – answered Terry with a mocking smile.
- Do not be so sure, I still have a powerful voice!

To those words, he tried some noisy shoutings that made him cough violently. He groaned in pain under the jerking assaults of his cough on his injured body.

- I think you'll have to moderate your enthusiasm for a while, my friend – said Terry as he tried to de-dramatize the situation. He was discovering, horrified, the seriousness of Cookie's condition and he realized that many months would be necessary to recover from his injuries. He did not have any idea about the level of his burnings, but he wanted to hand him over the best specialists before leaving. A veil of sadness passed before his eyes and he looked down to hide his emotion. He did not want Cookie to read his worry in his gaze.
- Miserable cough that plows my lungs! – cried out the young injured between two coughing spells – The doctors say that I've been lucky, that I could have died asphyxied or ended my life in a sanatorium. I want to believe them, but, when it holds me, I feel like someone wants to pull my breast out!
- It will disappear as time passes. The toxic gas has damaged your bronchi and they need to reconstitute themselves. But it won't be ended in a few days. You must be patient.
- Yes, I know… Days and months to wait… - he sighed.
- Little by little you will recover and the progress you'll make will help you during that long waiting.
- But how am I going to do if I remain trapped in that bed, Terry? Without boat, without the sea all around me?
- You will get used to it because you'll have to. You have no more choice but cure, and this needs time. But I don't worry about you. I will get sure that the nurses make a fuss over you!
- Hahaha! When you are gone, they'll only have eyes for me! I don't look so bad either, in my own right!
- That's true, you still have got what it takes! – Answered Terry, laughing.
- You don't know how true it is! An athletic body is hidden under all those bandages!
- Hahaha! Bloody Cookie! I think that they won't be bored with you! It's good to know that you stay positive.

Cookie went no further than silently nodding and smiled sadly. What good would it do to elaborate on his fears and worries, on his uncertain future that was ahead of him? He hoped that his convalescence would knock some sense into him because he was paying a very expensive price the unreasonable risk he had taken when plunging into the flames while the last machinist, having understood the seriousness of the situation, had runaway from his station. He deeply regretted his unconsciousness that was confining him to a hospital bed for a long time. He had often accepted the fact that he would always learn from his errors, but he blamed himself for not having applied that principle once too much. It only remained for him to be patient, quality that was totally unknown to him and that he would have to tame if he wanted to make those future months acceptable. He regretted that Terry was already leaving him, but he knew that he would not stay alone thanks to the regular visits of his companions of misfortune. They were stuck in the dock waiting for a job on another boat. Fortunately there were no victims among them. The only injured of the sinking were him and Terry, and he couldn't stop thanking heaven for having spared all of them. Feeling appeased, he looked at his friend, who, hands crossed between his knees, was looking at the window with a dreamy mood.

- You are eager to see her again, aren't you? – he asked in a tone of confidence.

Terry looked down, hesitated a while then answered sadly:

- I've decided to stop searching her. I'm going back to America…
- What? Have you lost your mind?
- On the contrary, I've had three days to think about it. I can't… I… I know that if she's part of my life, something terrible will happen to her. Every people who approached me, regretted it in the following to have met me. I'm a bird of ill omen, I undeniably bring bad-luck, and I want to protect her from this. I could not accept to make her suffer.

Though immobilized, Cookie was moving in his bed like one possessed.

- I think that I've never heard such a load of claptrap in my life! But what makes you think that you bring misfortune?
- Numerous events along my existence confirmed it to me. And even today, looking at you injured in that bed, is another edifying proof. If I hadn't been on that boat, a fire wouldn't have certainly happened and you would not have been hurt.
- Hold on… If I understand you well, you've thought that by some supernatural power that you have, you were able to attract a storm strong enough to make capsize a boat and make explode the engines room. Is that right?
- Y… Yes… Well, in some ways… - mumbled the young English as he realized how grotesque his thinking was.
- In that case, "Jesus, my saver", apply immediately your hands on my body because I'm sure to cure right in the second!
- Don't laugh at me…
- But who laughs at the other, here? How could you convince yourself of something so ridiculous although… although if you would not have been on that boat, I would not be there now preaching you. Even though you weren't there, that accident would have happened, but without you, I would be dead and gone, my athletic body feeding the little fishes of our blue ocean. You've risked your life for me, Terry, and you've saved me. I cannot thank you enough for that. I'm may be not in very good shape presently, but I'm going to recover and in a near future, I'll be able to invite one of those pretty nurses to dance, and this will be thanks to you! Then stop having in mind things that don't exist and run and meet her again. Now!
- I… I don't know whether…
- Will I be obliged to kick your glorious bottom out, Scottish ass? Go, run, fly to Venice and come back to me as the happiest of men!
- Cookie, I…
- Shut up! No more word! Leave me now. I'm tired and I've a great need of rest with all the emotions that you've just made me feel. When I wake up, I want to know that you are on the road to Italy. Promise me!
- I… I prom…

But Terry had not ended his sentence that Cookie was already sleeping deeply. A bit taken aback, troubled, the young man stood up and left the bedroom. He started as he noticed his father who was waiting for him in the dark hall, leaning against the wall. That latter stretched up and stood before him, watching him with a grave look.

- I think that our long way to London will not be too much because we have many things to talk about, son. Many things indeed…

You don't look good, Patty. Are you sure to be fine? – asked Candy to her friend while they were drinking an infusion, comfortably sitting on one of the lounge-car benches.
- I don't know really… Since the end of the meal, I don't feel very good, queasy. It must be the train journey that made me sick. I might need to walk and breath. In spite of the few stops we did, those two days looked to me suffocating.
- One more night of patience and we'll be arrived. You'll feel better tomorrow morning, when discovering Venice.
- That must be enchanting! Don't we say "See Venice and die"?
- If it is said so, that must be true. But I don't want to die presently! – said Candy, chuckling.
- Hahaha! Of course, you don't! So many beautiful things are still waiting for you, in particular these reunions with a very good-looking English aristocrat…

Candy smiled, blushing. She turned her head towards a couple who was waltzing near them, next to the piano, and she thought that one day soon, she would be dancing too in Terry's arms. She missed him so much since she saw him again! The more days passed, the more that waiting was becoming difficult to live. Paradoxically, she was feeling in a constant state of bliss and she liked that euphoria that made her existence light. This brought a spicy flavor to their reencounters she dreamed about in her sleep, and the fecundity of her imagination surprised her and made her blush.

Around them, the waiters were busing the tables and setting them for the following day. The sound of crystal glasses that clinked between their skillful hands with in background, the soft melody playing on a piano, was cradling the two young women who had their eyes almost closing. They could have joined the little birthday party that was taking place in the wagon next to theirs, but Patty's yawns encouraged their return to their cabin. They walked along the long corridor made with mahogany and rosewood that passed through several bluish cars, then pushed the door of their suite. The organization of that one was particularly ingenious. It consisted of two doubles cabins that communicated each other, allowing then to double the space and dispose in the first cabin of a small living room with Pullman benches, table and stools. The other cabin was changed for the night into a bedroom with two bunk beds. A veritable jewel, trimmed with precious inlays and sparkling brasses. It was provided with a washbasin with hot and cold running fresh water, towels dressing case. A ring allowed calling a day and night available steward. Regarding the toilets, they were located at the end of each sleeping-car. The two friends quickly went to bed and fell asleep. But in the middle of the night, as Candy was deeply sleeping, she got awaked by odds moans that appeared to come from the lower bunk. She lit her night light, passed her head over the bed and saw Patty, lying in a crouched position, her face contorted, holding painfully her belly.

- What's wrong, Patty ? You don't feel good? – she cried out as she jumped from her bed.
- Oh Candy, it hurts so much!...
- Let me see, please – she said as she passed her hand over the painful area, of which only contact made Patty scream.
- Don't worry. I think I know what you have… - she said as she sounded nervously the alarm to call the steward who arrived few minutes later.
- Ladies, may I help you? – he asked with a yawn.
- Please, find us a doctor! I think that my friend is having an appendicitis crisis!
Candy's alarmed face ended to wake up the young man who answered her:
- There is an English doctor in the next car. I run and look for him!

- Please, do fast! – she exclaimed with a tremolo while Patty's lamentations increased.
She went and soaked a towel in the lavabo and put it on her friend's burning forehead. The doctor arrived few minutes later, in sleepers and with his medical suitcase. He quickly examined Patty and confirmed Candy's diagnosis.

- It looks pretty enflamed. She should have surgery as fast as possible if we do not want to risk peritonitis! Unfortunately, I don't have my tools with me. As I'm on vacation, I've only taken with me the essential.
Visibly worried, he passed his hand on his forehead as he walked in the room.
- What's the nearest town? – he suddenly asked to the steward who was remaining tetanized in the door frame.
- We should get to Verona in less than an hour, sir…
- In that case, make sure to inform the hospital of that town that someone must wait for us at the station with an ambulance. Ask them too to have the surgical room ready. Every minute counts!

The steward nodded and ran to send the telegram. Few minutes later, the director of the train, who visibly had gotten dressed quickly, showed up. He told them that the telegram has been sent to the stationmaster of Verona to pass the information on further. He tried as much as he could to comfort them though he felt, for his part, uncertain. It was not the first time he was having a passenger ill in his train, but it was always an anguishing experience, especially as the situation could become dramatic.

The doctor tried to reassure and cheer Patty up. He made her drink a drug that was supposed to calm her pain, but it only led to make her throw up and suffer even more. Candy, for her part, had quickly gotten dressed and was reuniting, with a shaking hand, their stuff. She was conscious that they would not go back with the Orient-Express and that their stop in Verona might last longer than anticipated. When her luggage ended, she sat down near her friend, took her hand, and tried to comfort her as much as she could. But it was not easy to calm someone who suffered, and she welcomed with great relief, the strident shouts of the train entering the station. She looked through the window and saw the ambulance that was waiting for them, back from the platform. Two male nurses went out from it and came into the wagon with a stretcher. They laid Patty down on it as gently as possible and they brought her back to the ambulance. Candy took her bag that contained personal documents and began to follow them. At the last moment, she turned to the steward, who, before her trouble, reassured her immediately:

- Don't worry, miss. You can leave fearless. I'll take care of everything. Good luck with your friend!

Candy thanked him with a warm handshake and rushed to the ambulance. The doctor who had auscultated Patty was standing with the nurses and giving them the last recommendations, in a rough Italian but enough to be understood. Then he explained them that Candy, who did not speak any Italian, was the patient's friend and they should allow her to come with them. When done, he saluted the young American, using all his British courtesy that characterized him, then went back to his train, that was already spitting some vapor clouds, that announced an imminent departure. Candy took place in the ambulance backside, pressing Patty's hand who was wriggling with pain. The car doors slammed shut on them and the vehicle started, going hurtling across the deserted streets of Verona, with sirens blaring in the silence of the night…

The Duke of Grandchester's Rolls-Royce had left Plymouth and was rolling since a long time yet on the London road that overlooked the coast. Sitting on the car's rear bench, Terry, pretending to be busy with the sea view, was surreptitiously watching his father and waiting. He was waiting for the important thing the Duke had to tell him. Since their leaving, they had not exchanged any word. Finally, he heard the leather of the seat next to him whispering, and felt his father moving and searching in the inner pocket of his jacket. He took off an envelope from it and gave it to him. It was some new identity documents to replace the ones that had been lost during the sinking. The name Grandchester was written in big letters on the document. Terry could not keep a frown that was immediately noticed by the Duke.

- You'll be able to change of name when you come back to America if you want, but here, on your ancestors' land, and also for the British Civil Registar, you remain Terrence Graham Grandchester, my son…
- Father, I…

Terry's words stumbled on the edge of his lips. Some confuse ideas were bombarding him and he was having a lot of difficulty to control them. After a long moment of thinking, he was able to and he turned to him with a certain emotion in his voice.

- In reality, I've never wanted to hurt you, Father. But, to be honest, this is what I wanted at that time. I knew that you were giving much more importance to the name of Grandchester than to your own son, and I wanted to make you suffer by refusing to bear it. However, when starting the procedures in the United States, I understood that it was more complex and deep than it was: it was really for me a means to find my own identity and to distinguish me from a lineage that had only brought me disillusions.
- Why then do you still wear the family ring that I bequeathed to you for your fifteenth birthday?
Terry's look move to his left hand and rested upon the signet ring that adorned his middle-finger. He had indeed kept it during all those years. That highlighted the complexity of his feelings towards his family, feelings that he had pushed back and refused to considerate. Troubled by that intimate confession, he stuttered:
- I've no idea why I kept that ring during all that time…

He did another pause and looked at the window. Through the veil of his reflection, he could see the sea, peacefully unrolling its waves on their dying way to the beach. The atmosphere of quietness that emanated from it singularly contrasted with the whirl of emotions and interrogations that were shaking him.

- May be because, despite myself - he said finally – I wasn't able to do it… to mourn my story… You were right, Father. I remain, in spite of this, a Grandchester. I've from it an education, a family heritage…
- Son… - murmured the Duke as he tried an affectionate gesture to Terry's shoulder.
- But, don't mistake - he added, moving back – What made me a Grandchester, is also what made what I am now. Terrence Graham, prince of paper decors who only found his nobility back from the lines that he recites.
- Nobility and talent, Terrence. I can confirm it. I saw you on stage…

The young man's pupils dilated with stupor, so disproportionately that everything seemed losing its shape around him. Shattered, he babbled:

- Ex… Excuse me, Father? You've attended one of my plays?
- You look very surprised!
- I'm sorry, but you've always been against ma vocation. According you, it was just a crush. You were so critical regarding this, so impervious to listen to me, that the eventuality of your presence in the audience sounds to me unbelievable!
- However… During one of my trips to New York, I went to see you, Terrence, and … I understood…
Terry's heart began to beat faster, his throat to become dry. The duke turned to him and plunged his dark gaze into his, without any coldness that time, almost benevolent.
- Hidden in the darkness of that theatre balcony, I understood while watching you, that you had made the right choice, my son… Since you appeared on stage, you were giving shape to the character, bringing a reality to that imaginary creation. And there, before my astonished eyes, as I came with prejudices, I discovered a being full of energy, of impetus, who, through the magic of his acting was making us accomplice of the surrounding illusion. I wondered: "What's his secret? What's that gift that I always ignored?". And then, I realized that it had always been in you, that it was in your genes, because, you are perhaps my son, but you are also a woman's one who used to be able to sublimate a scene, to wonder the assistance, to charm it until leaving it quiet of emotion: your mother, Terrence, your mother had that power and I got awed by her too!

Against all odds, Terry's jaw tensed and he retorted with an acerb tone.

- Such praise for someone that you abandoned!

The Duke stepped back as if he had been reached by a spit and tightened up. His hands that covered the knob of his wooden stick quivered during a short time.

- I paid a high price for this! Not a day goes without regretting my decision.

The shoulder-shrugging he received in return increased his irritation.

- You're judging me very severely, Terrence, but thirty years ago, it was not so easy to be the heir of Grandchester! Your grandfather had kept, despite his old age, a lot of influence over his surrounding and me. I was hand and foot tied!

Facing his son's silence, he began a long monologue that he hoped persuasive.

- First time I saw your mother, I immediately, madly loved her… I wanted just one thing: living by her side, marrying her and founding a family with her. But life is not a fairy tale and things rarely go like we want… At that time, I was engaged to Beatrix. It was an arranged marriage that didn't matter but which had a whole different meaning for me after having met your mother… I went to see your grand-father, I begged him to release me from that union, but in turn, he counter-attacked with substantive arguments: the dishonor that would tarnish the family reputation by marrying an American starlet, and also the threat of leaving me without a penny if I executed my plan. I had been raised in in the principles of honor, prestige and duty. If I disowned that, I would not just lose my name, title, and fortune, but also the political carrier that I was building. I didn't have the courage to renounce all of that…

Terry persisted in his silence, simply looking at his father with irony and reproach. Once again, the Duke underwent the implacable judgment of his son but that time he did not turn away from it.

- I know what you are thinking… That I was a coward who did not sacrifice his material well-being and his political future for your mother… Coward and cruel… I didn't only abandon her, I also took her son from her…

Terry, his head lowered and his hands crossed between his legs, let escape:

- There are no words to be able to say what you made us suffer. I never understood and I always wondered why you behaved that way. You did not need me!
- You might not believe me, but that was a real matter of conscience for me – answered the Duke with a sad sigh – You were also my son and I wanted you to grow up without the shame of being an illegitimate child.
- You were not obliged to recognize me legally. You could have left me with my mother!
- Don't be so naïve! Do you think that you would have been better served if you had borne your mother's name? You would just have been the obvious proof of her fault, the sin of flesh she had committed with a man already engaged. Do you think that in America people were more open-minded than the high British aristocracy? You are wrong. There, they would have thrown stones to you too, and your mother would have even more suffered because they would have made her pay expensively to be a single mother. Her carrier would have never been what it is… Nothing was more painful to me to force her to leave you with me. I knew that I would break her heart and I couldn't bear it. I also knew that she would never forgive me this, that she would curse me for this for the rest of my life, and that I would have to live with that guilt all my life. But I knew that I would give you a name, a title, a future, and this helped me to act because I thought I was doing it for your good… and for hers…
- But why were you then so distant with me? Beatrix always hated me, my brother and my sister always made me understand that I was not part of the family. Why didn't you protect me?
- Because… Because, every time I looked at you, every time my eyes crossed yours, I felt like seeing her again!... You look like so much your mother! You daily reflected me the happiness that was refused to me, that brought me back to my past and to my mistakes. And like an idiot, I pushed you back because your presence was such a suffering for me that the only comfort I found was when being far from you…

He stopped a minute, then followed with a broken voice.

- Forgive me if I've been cruel with you! I've never wanted to become the being cold and distant that you know. I loved so much your mother, so much, that when I had to renounce her, a part of myself, the best of it, died at that time. I've neglected you, I've made you suffer too. Instead of getting closer to you, I've reproached you your rebellious mind. I could not bear you challenge my authority and I chased you from my home…
- You did not chase me. I was the one who left…
- In any case, I considerably eased your task… I remember that day when you came to see me. You wanted me to help that young schoolgirl who was about to be expelled from Saint Paul. You were standing in front of me, imploring, almost hysterical. I thought that if you could so much fie upon your pride, it meant that she might have a great importance to your eyes. I thought back to my own experience, begging my father to let me marry your mother, and however, and though, I acted like him and refused to respond to your request… I can't explain to you why, though having been the victim of such behavior myself, I repeated the same mistakes… I can't say why I did not stretch out my hand to you that day… Simply may be because I did not want you to be happy. I knew that contrary to what I had known, I would never have been able to impose you something. You were free and determined, and I blamed you to be what I had always dreamed to. My lack of braveness, my need of social recognition had led me into that miserable life that was mine, and I mercilessly punished you for this… The following morning, you renounced to everything and left the college to prevent the expulsion of that girl. Once again, you threw to my face the mediocrity of my behavior. And when, in retaliations, I wanted to stop my financial support to the college, it was that little American girl who came to bring me to my sense…
- Candy? Candy came to talk to you?
- Amazing person indeed who did not hesitate to climb on my car to force me to listen to her!...
- That's Candy! – said Terry, chucking. His face enlightened and a nostalgic smile appeared on his lips.
- A tough girl!... She lectured me as I had never been before, and reminded me of my father's duties, and especially convinced me not to try to find you. She had such great confidence in you, she seemed to know you so well, much more than I did, that I listened to her in silence. Everything she said sounded so right and sensed. That day, you both gave me, in spite of your young age, the greatest lesson of life!...

Baffled by the Duke's confessions, Terry stayed paralyzed, unable to say any word. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He did not recognize the man sitting next to him. He had kept though the same grave and intimidating voice, the same majesty in the gestures, the same dark and freezing gaze that could petrify you when looking at you. But if you watched him carefully, you could perceive a kind of crack, a fragility that he did not know or that he had never wanted to see. As he opened more his heart, Terry began to understand what linked them to each other: a mutual distress that perhaps did not have the same origins but that they felt the same way. He imagined his father, twenty-seven years before, a handsome passionate young man, his silver hair having recovered his jet-black color, his heart full of hope before the life that presented itself to him, then the drama that was almost overnight played out, forcing him to renounce everything that counted for him, forcing him to renounce the love of his life… Even if he did not find any excuse to this, he was able to understand that feeling of nothingness that had swamped him and that had taken away his portion of humanity from him. It was a feeling that he recognized for experiencing the same perfidious poison for ten years, since he had finished with the one he loved. Luckily, he didn't have a child!... Only God knows how he would have behaved with that little being, so much the pain of the lack had destroyed him inside… Him, who had sworn to himself that he would never behave like his father did, found a lot of common ground with him…

That latter withdrew him then from his thoughts with an intrusive remark that disconcerted him:

- You must be very in love yet to come up to here look for her…

Before his son's dumbfounded face, he added with a conspiratory whisper:

- You talk while sleeping…

Terry relaxed a little and nodded wistfully.

- I'm madly in love with her since our first meeting…
- Why then didn't you marry her? Why having lived all those years with that girl who had gotten injured during a rehearsal? Miss Marlowe, isn't it?

Terry remained thoughtful for a long time before answering. Painful memories were submerging him, full of regrets and bitterness.

- I stayed with Suzanna – he ended up saying wearily – because, like you, father, I lacked courage. I was racket with guilt for still being alive while she was disabled because of me. I couldn't say no and I let Candy leave. At the moment, I thought that it would help me to do my duty, the one of being at Suzanna's sides and to take care of her. But as time elapsed, I realized the seriousness of my mistake. I was tied to that woman for the rest of my life, that woman whom I did not love, who accepted that and who was happy with that. I reached the point to despise her and in the same time I blamed myself for that because I was responsible of that situation. I lived Candy's absence like a real suffering, a little death that surreptitiously racked my heart and my soul… Oddly, when Suzanna died, I should have felt some relief and rush to Candy, but once again, I did not have courage enough. Some many years had elapsed that I was convinced she had turned the page, that she had forgotten me, that even she had may be gotten married. I was too afraid of having to face that horrible truth, that the love that had linked us was just a memory, and I didn't search to see her again. Lately, against all odds, she came back to my life. That was a very short moment, but the few exchanges we got gave me back courage and mainly the crazy hope that she could still share the same feelings.
- How can you be sure of this if you go back to America? – Retorted finely the Duke.

Once again, Terry was taken aback by the embarrassing question of his father who was holding his gaze and did not seem disposed to take it off.

- You've heard my talking with Cookie, haven't you?
- Yes, indeed. I must confess… I didn't have to keep my ears open much. The walls of the hospital were not very thick… I hope you'll forgive this indiscretion but I was worried about you and I wanted to know the reasons of your coming here. I thought that your talking with your friend would shed light on this, and I was surprised by what I learnt…
- Am I then able to surprise you?
- More than you think and a little more each passing day!... But now, I must tell you that I'm a bit disappointed in you. You say that you love that young woman, you cross the Atlantic to find her back, you survive to a sinking, and presently, while reaching your goal, you want to go back to the United States! It does not mean anything!

Terry looked down, whistling.

- I'm afraid… - he said with a hushed voice – I'm afraid of breaking the charm… of disappointing her… I've always failed everything with her…
- My son, people learn a lot from their mistakes, and you'll commit many other ones. But, in any case, I'm sure that if I had, like you, the opportunity to repair the one that would allow me to meet again the woman I love, I would not wait any more second, because it will not come around any time soon. If your love was able to resist to all those years, it's because it deserves to be lived. Therefore, don't be afraid of it, grasp it with both hands and fight for it! If you don't do it, you'll regret it all your life, because you'll never know if you did the right choice. Believe me, living in such conditions is not living. I'm a depressing illustration of this…

Terry was listening to him in silence. In the depths of his heart, he was very relieved to hear that. Few hours before, Cookie had yet begun to make him doubt about the credibility of his decision. Now, his father was repeating similar comments. Them both, in their own way, knew how to find the right words to make him change of mind. He could admit it: he was feeling relieved of a burden that had been oppressing him for several days. And he was realizing that he would never have been able to bear life if he had applied his resolution. From all his being, from all his soul, he wanted, he was hungry to see Candy again and to give them both a chance to know finally happiness and peace. He turned to his father and addressed him a face very distinct from the somber and disabused look he had displayed since their leaving.

- Do you think we could make a detour by Southampton? I'd like to check if a boat is leaving for France…
- Wise decision, Terrence! – Exclaimed the Duke, his eyes sparkling with joy, as he put an affectionate hand on his son's shoulder - You couldn't make me prouder ! Indeed, Terrence, I'm very proud of you, and I'm not ashamed to say it to you…

Before the stupefied and interrogative expression of his son, he followed with a certain emotion in his voice:

- You see, I've never been able to talk to you, to share anything with you either. We did not do that in the family. It was indecent to express our feelings. Only authority and respect of traditions prevailed. Unfortunately, I've very well applied those principles with you. And when you left, so young, I realized a little too late the disastrous consequences of my behavior towards you. I knew that I could not make you come back, then I followed you from the distance and I lived your success vicariously. I came to New York to confirm through my own eyes, the shining being that people described about you. And obviously, I agreed that you had been right to go far away from me, whether not you would have become like me, a selfish man, cold and insensible to everything around him. I'm telling you that, Terrence, because I should have done that earlier. When I saw you on that hospital bed as people were unable to tell me if you were going to survive, I really thought that I was going to lose you forever, and that you were going to die without knowing that… that I loved you! I swore to myself that if you waked up, I would tell you how important you are to me. And I'm telling you now. I'm proud of what you are, of the life you chose to live. Your ancestors did not have any fortune but founded their greatness on noble values: braveness and honor. I'm pleased to see that you are of the same caliber. My only regret will be to have been unable to match up to you… Will you ever be able to forgive me for being such a mediocre father with you?
- It needs… - answered Terry with a hesitating voice – It needs a lot of courage to tell me that, father. I don't know if I would have had the same. But in turn I can tell you this: I've always hoped to hear those words from you, and I cannot find the right words to express the joy it gives me…
- Oh, son! – Murmured the Duke, painfully hiding his emotion.

The two men looked to each other silently during a long moment. Father and son were finally reuniting. The joy they were feeling discreetly expressed itself on their face but was well real. The shy smiles of the beginning were gradually replaced by a light gaiety that cheered them up definitively.

- We are arriving to Plymouth, your Grace – the chauffeur interrupted their discrete effusions.
- Change of direction, Edward! Continue towards London and take the direction of Kenley as soon as possible!
- But!... – said Terry who did not understand – Why Kenley?
- Because… - answered the Duke with a mysterious look – Because… Have a little patience. I will explain to you when we arrive…

The Grandchester's car followed its road for two long hours during which the young man couldn't retain his impatience. Finally, as they arrived in the southern sector of London, the vehicle deviated from the main road and moved away from the capital. Quickly, the environment changed: the vast prairies and antique forests began to get alongside with shapely hills over tens of hectares. Then the path that peacefully followed the relief in a wavy line began to take, after few kilometers, a more linear aspect, longing fields that spread around on a long band of several hectares. At the very end, a raw of semi-military buildings closed the zone. A simple sign planted in the grass on the edge of the road displayed the site's name: Kenley, aerodrome.

The Rolls rolled few more meters then stopped in front of some hangars. Three airplanes were parked inside, above which a couple of men, dressed with their working clothes, were perched.

- Oh, your Grace! – Cried out on of the mechanics as he met the Duke. He reached out to him a dirty of oil sludge hand though he had previously wiped it off with a greasy cloth - It's a pleasure to see you here! We haven't seen you in a while!
- That's right, Harvey. I missed it!
- You should have informed us of your visit to give me time enough to prepare your plane. Alas, it's a bit too late to make it fly now. The night is coming soon.
- Don't worry, Harvey. Could you thought have a look at it because I'd like to leave tomorrow morning, in the beginning of the day.
- Consider it done, your Grace! I'll work on it all night long if necessary!
- That's very kind of you! I knew I could count on you! Let me introduce you to my son, Terrence.
- Pleased to meet you, sir – said Terry with an absent voice, as he mechanically shook the mechanics' hand. In spite of all his efforts, he couldn't understand what was happening around him. That unusual environment did not fit with his father's personality, and he spoke to him, solicitous of answers to his questionings - Could you finally explain to me what we are doing here?
- We are in the aviation camp of Kenley!
- I can see that, but what did that man mean about "your" plane? Do you finance that place?
- I do, for a part of it… But I'm also the owner of a twin-engine plane which can carry up to four people.
- But who pilots it?
- Me!...

Terry stood frozen to the spot as if he had been struck by lightning. It was really the day of surprises, and he wondered for an instant if he wasn't involved into a hoax. But his father's tone sounded unequivocal in spite of the half-smile that lifted up his moustache. That latter, before his son's stupefied expression, invited him to follow him in another building that was taking place at the other end of the camp. Along the way, he gave him some explanations about his secret passion: aviation.

- You were too young to remember, but when I lived with your mother in America, I was involved in the Wright brothers' first flying tests, in Ohio. It was in 1900 in a glider. When, because of circumstances, I went back to England with you, I dropped all of this because it reminded me too much of the happiest years of life lost. But, as time elapsing, passion took over again, and I started to renew my attention to aeronautics. I became closer to Flying Fools fiels, those skilled pilots who had been at war and who had distinguished themselves through reconnaissance missions. I felt back in my element. I took again flying lessons and since then, from time to time, I come fly here.
- How could I ignore all of this?- Lamented Terry.
- Because you were yet living in America at that time, and we did not talk to each other anymore… - answered the Duke sadly - By now, I'm happy to be able to share my real passion with you. Business, politics were a necessary evil, but flying… Haaaa, Terrence! Flying is like feeling free, like feeling alive! It's a feeling indescribable so much it fulfills you with joy! During few hours, you change of universe, you don't think to anything, you are out of time. Can you understand this?
- I do, father – answered Terry with a sibylline smile.

Theatre used to offer him the same freedom. He would feel that similar euphoria when being on stage. Father and son had much in common finally.
They arrived in front of a building that displayed a big sign on which was awkwardly hand painted "OFFICE" en big letters. But as they were pushing the door, they almost bumped into a man on his way out.

- My God, Richard! What a good surprise! But what are you doing at this late hour? – Exclaimed the man with a strong French accent.
- Lucien! Old rascal! I could ask you the same thing!
- I've just transported some clients from Paris, and I fly back tomorrow with some "English" wishing to slum in Pigalle. What about you?
- I'm taking my son to Italy, to Venice – he said as he introduced Terry to him whose hand he manly shook.
- My goodness! Venice! That's one hell of a ride!
- I'm very hopeful that we'll get there before the end of the afternoon.
- Well, with the mild weather we are having those days, that sound feasible – said the "Frenchy", thoughtful – Do you have at least a road map?
- Not yet unfortunately. That trip is a bit rushed. This is why I came to the office. But since you are here!...
- …We are going to work on it together, aren't we? Hahaha! I've by the way brought back with me some topographic maps that could be helpful.
- Lucien, you couldn't come at a better time!
- Then, let's go inside and think about all of this! – He said, hugging his friend by his shoulder – The secretary has made before leaving that hay with boiled water that you "English" fancy so much.
- Tea, Lucien, tea! – Answered Richard Grandchester, vaguely irritated.
- Yes, yes, tea, as you like! But this will never replace a strong and full-bodied coffee!
- If your Napoleon had drunk more of this, you would not have been beaten in Trafalgar!...
- Roooooooh, what a sneak attack! I recognize well the British perfidy, rotten pudding eater!
- Hohoho! You dare criticize the English haute cuisine? Some lost their head for less than that! – Cried out the Duke as he raised a threatening index under the pilot's noise. That latter retorted with an insolent sneer.
- We, French people, are very gifted at making heads fall! We are experts in that matter, especially when it comes to aristocratic heads like yours!...
- This is the reason why England remained a civilized country!
- Oh, Richard, that time, you're going over the top!...

Blabla, blabla, blablabla…

Idly, incapable of the slightest reaction, Terry let the two men entering the building, joking like barracks old pals. There was no doubt. He did not recognize his father! That latter might have had a brain attack he had not been aware of, otherwise, he was suffering an incurable illness that had transformed him completely. What was that jovial being who was joking with an unknown, furthermore a Froggy? What had happened to the austere Duke of Grandchester, who just this morning paralyzed him with his coldness and his freezing gaze. The world was upside down! Definitely, he did not know anything about his father, but what he was discovering was not leaving him indifferent, rather the reverse. Finally, that man was becoming pleasant…

The following morning, a two-engines plane took off over the English country. The pilot, whose silvering hair locks could be guessed under his leathered cap, feverishly held the handle that he would guide towards the chain of the Alps, last frontier before Italy. Behind him, the turquoise eyes of a brown-haired young man glittered with thousands of stars. Amazed by the extraordinary panorama that stretched under his feet, his heart full of hope, he did not feel the fear of the one who was celebrating his first flight. The only thing that mattered was the charming face of a fair-haired woman that seemed to appear among the rounded clouds they were passing through. The limpid blue sky reflected itself on the plane's metallic keelson, so well that it was becoming invisible, like engulfed in the waters of a lake. Terry's heart began to beat faster as they saw in the distance the first outlines of snow-capped mountains. They were half-way now, a few hours of her. Nothing could oppose their reencounters. He was convinced. Tonight, he would be embracing her!...
The airplane followed his road, narrowly missing the snow-covered slopes of the Alpine mounts, ignoring that the strong hope that lightened their travel was quickly going to take the taste of disenchantment…

End of chapter 5
Thanks for reading until here.