the ghost of high heart

letters → brynden | 1962 throught 1966

Riverrun, June 12th 1963

I’m sorry for such a late reply.

I’m so sorry. You’re not angry are you?

If you have a phone, perhaps i’ll call you instead.

Maybe…. Maybe i’ll go to London, before school starts again- maybe i’ll see you.

I… I don’t know how to say this… not on here.

I…have a friend, Michael, and he’s my best friend. The only real friend i have really.

And

And well, i love him.

I love him.

We went camping last year before the exams, and it was nice. I dived from the cliffs into the sea and it was fun, and after, he came running to the beach, shouting at me because i was being daft. but i really wasn’t. I’ve done cliff diving dozens of times before.

But after he calmed down and we sat on the beach…

Well, we talked, about music and our teachers and the other boys in our school.

And then i said i liked him being around.

And that i loved him.

I loved him.

And he said he loved me too.

And i was happy.

But-

Something happened a few months ago, and… and i don’t know

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I-

Please, do you have a phone number i can call?

-BryndenTully

—

Riverrun, June 14th 1963

I’ll be in London on the 19th.

Can we meet somewhere?

Lunch on the twentieth? I’ll meet up with you in front of the National Museum?

i hope this gets to you before-

-BryndenTully

#t: letter #c: brynden tully #01

London, August 3rd, 1963

Dear Brynden,

Like I’ve told you before, and I feel like it’s always worth remembering, I’m so glad that you’ve found someone that makes you happy. You seemed so different from the afternoon by the river, just as if life had entered your lungs once again. Being in love has made you different but only in the best of ways. And from what you’ve told me, Michael seems a wonderful person and you’re very lucky to have him. I wonder if someday I’ll find someone like him to myself.

The world is changing so much these days, you and Michael have nothing to worry about. Honestly, it’s not like loving another person is any kind of crime. Everything’s gonna work out just fine, you’ll see. I wish you both nothing by happiness.

I hope you and your family are well. How are you little niece and nephew?

Love,

Esther

PS: It was lovely meeting you at the National Museum. I know it’s difficult, but we should this more times, don’t you think? (Do you think you could bring Michael around sometime? I’d love to meet him, if that’s okay with you I mean.)

bloodandglory-rp

#so pretty :33 #info #ooc

character: the ghost of high heart (bio) affiliations: the anonymous brotherhood charlotte rampling

letters → brynden | 1962 throught 1966

Riverrun, April 20th, 1963

Esther,

No it didn’t sound strange at all, and i’m glad you felt better after. We should call each other up more often yes, you still have my phone number yes? Maybe you can write me your house phone number if you have one.

And don’t worry, feeling sad is nothing to be judged about.

[ he pauses, unsure if he should trust her. he was worried that she will judge him, but he wanted to tell her. ]

I can trust you right? Promise you won’t judge me? [ crossed out and scribbled over ]

That’s good. I think i have a cousin who makes clothes. Just be careful all right? and don’t stress yourself out too much!

And yes she has, she’s starting to run about now and babbling and pointing at things. Hoster and Minisa are trying to get her to say proper words, and its funny to watch them try.

Also, i would invite you for easter, but it’s too late now is it? at least it will be when you get this letter. Maybe Christmas? By then, the baby will be born and you can come see him or her.

And school’s great! [ He breathes ]

I met someone, and I love it whenever we’re together, and i’m happy whenever we’re together.

We’ve been friends for a long while now, and ..

[ It’s so difficult to talk about this if he had to keep avoiding using ‘he’ ]

I can trust you can’t i?

Promise you won’t judge me?

-BryndenTully

———————————————————————————————————

Riverrun April 25th 1963

Esther,

I know i sent you a letter already, but-

I just-

I need someone to talk to. Can you call me as soon as you get this?

I don’t know what to do..

-BryndenTully

#t: letter #c: brynden tully #01

London, May 9th, 1963

Dear Brynden,

I tried calling you twice but both times the person who picked up (your father or your brother, I'm not sure but he didn't give me his name) said you weren't home or maybe they didn't want me to talk to you.

Did something happen with you and your friend? I hope you're alright and if something indeed happened, that it wasn't anything serious.

You don't need to be afraid to tell me anything, Bryn. That's what friends are for.

Well, things are still the closest to normal here, I did some two shoots so far and though it's fun and I get paid well, it feels very...unfulfilling in a way. It's not the life I'm used to and I'm not sure it's for me. I might do a few more but I should just focus on studying and getting an education.

I'll see how things will be at Christmas and see if I can maybe stay for a couple days there, what do you think? I just I don't want to be a burden or something like to you and your family.

Love,

Esther

letters → brynden | 1962 throught 1966

[ He writes and re writes and crumples and throws. Scribbling dark ink over whole paragraphs, hiding them away. Then, he scrunches the paper in his fist and tosses them aside before taking out a new sheet of paper. What should he say? ]

Riverrun, February 7th, 1963

I know how much it hurts.

I know that it feels like you can’t move, like you’re being throttled.

Esther, don’t hold the tears in. It will only make it feel worse.

Hoster tells me to cry whenever i feel like crying, and-

I cry a lot. But i feel better after. At least for a while

Do you have a phone nearby? Call me, talking helps too.

You don’t need to talk. I’ll just be there.

The number to my house phone is at the back.

Please, tell me how i can help.

If you need anything, please tell me.

-BryndenTully

#t: letter #c: brynden tully #tw: grief #tw: depression #01

London, April 11th, 1963

Dear Brynden,

It was nice talking to you on the phone, we should do that more often, when you're not busy or when I'm not at work. Now that I think about it, I must have sounded so strange, crying in the phone without speaking at all, but of all the people in the world, I felt like you'd be the only one who wouldn't judge me.

Things are slowly going back to the most relative normal I can imagine, but it's still so difficult. I do wonder if it will ever feel completely normal again, without my sister.

I do have some good news from when I called you: I've got a side job as a model for a while, to make some extra money. It must seem quite silly, I know, but an agent came to the post office the other day and told me to come around their office at the City whenever I could. Honestly, I have no idea what it will be like, I'll probably feel like a fish out of the water there, but it seems simple enough and it will be good to have a extra income, even if it's just for a little while. Next time we speak I'll tell you all about it!

I hope everything is alright with you and your family (Has your niece started to crawl or take little steps? You'll need lots of energy to keep up with her!). Are you in school now? If so, are you liking it a bit better now?

Love,

Esther

sevendeaths-deactivated20140707

it's a long way down to the bottom of the river | beric & esther | september 27th

And then he heard his name and a familiar voice. He turned around to see his old friend there, “Esther", he whispered back in return and in surprise. He had been avoiding her ever since the last time, too ashamed of the things he had been doing ever since - in the same fashion he was avoiding Thoros. And yet the mere sight of her brought some calmness into Beric and for the first time in days he sighed before smiling, sincerely, and closing some distance between them, forgetting why he was avoiding her, “I didn’t expect to see you here". He’d missed her. They had spent years apart, without phonecalls or emails; and yet he had missed her in these few weeks. He needed his friends now more than ever, to keep him sane, whether he wanted to accept that or not.

"It’s a nice surprise", he said quietly, dropping his gaze, “How have you been?".

#t: prose #th: it's a long way down to the bottom of the river #c: beric dondarrion

"It's a nice surprise indeed," she said. "You've been avoiding me." It had been over a month since Beric had been in her apartment, late at night. Ever since, she had made plans to call him and see how he was doing, to see how much had changed from that night, if anything at all; back then, Beric had told her he was giving up the leadership of the brotherhood to stay with Allyria, but if that had really become true, Esther would have to ask. She suspected that not much had changed, despite his effords. Beric still had the same pale complexion as before, looking like death had not left him for a second.

A few days ago, one morning she picked up the phone and dialed his number, but never got to complete the call. It seemed ridiculous, but for the times they had met in the past months, she had missed him sorely, a great deal more than the entire years that he spent in America. Before Esther could forgive herself for not calling and forgive Beric for not writing, back when she thought she barely crossed her mind and had his studies to focus on; it all felt different now. The risks were higher, and she worried someone would find out about his plans and bring it all to an end.

"I've been alright, a bit of this and a bit of that," Esther lowered her voice before continuing. The market was filled with all sorts of people, and one could never know who was listening. "I've met someone quite...interesting, on these days we haven't seen each other. His name is Lester, I suppose you should know him." In truth, Lester Morrigen was far from very interesting, but his connection with the Ministry of Defence and his suspicions about who bombed the stadium were worrying. Chances were that Beric had no idea who the man was, given that he wasn’t high up in the hierarchy of the ministry, but if he didn’t now, now would be a good time to find out.

She looked around, hoping that no one would be very interested in what an old woman had to say to a man like him, but Esther couldn’t shake the feeling that she would be more comfortable talking in her apartment or even in a pub, instead of in front of a stall in a packed street market. “How are you? Not sleeping and eating enough, that’s quite obvious.”

Well, my dear, it really isn’t gonna work that way (Esther Oldstones and Lester Morrigen, September 12th, 2012, evening)

At the very least, he thinks, he is doing something productive with his grief. Channeling it into the people who killed him. That, at least, is something that he can be proud of, if nothing else. ”I don’t really know what happened last night. I mean…I don’t remember at all. I’m just a bit worried I hurt myself.” Is that how he should say it? He supposes that is what he is worried about, though. That’s what worries him more than anything else, and he thinks that it should.

#t: prose #th: well my dear it really isn't gonna work that way #c: lester morrigen #tw: grief #tw: depression #tw: mental illness #tw: self-harm

We think that they might be behind several actual attacks as well he says, and for a split second, Esther gets worried. She has no idea who exactly is “we”, but if she starts making too many questions about this subject and dropping the rest, there might be a suspicion from Lester. We could so easily be just another mate that Lester shares a room with at the Main Building, but it could very well be the whole force at the government, including the Prime Minister himself. Esther doubts it that the latter is true, but it’s never too much to be careful.

“Sounds absolutely dreadful,” she says. “Why would these people do anything like it is just beyond me.” If Lester wants to keep talking about it, which she hopes he will, then Esther can continue talking like she’s oblivious to the situation. Otherwise, it would be better to stop.

The idea confirms when he responds in a more spiteful way than he did before. The boy is ashamed of himself and what he did so he tries to talk in a more rude way to Esther. Not that it even bothers her anymore, she’s seen a lot worst, even in recent times. So she doesn’t reply, instead Esther just keeps sitting still on her place, while Lester can realize how he’s behaving towards her.

It works – it always does – after a few seconds. “Are you worried that it can happen again? If you feel upset and start drinking, and end up injuring yourself?”

letters → brynden | 1962 throught 1966

Riverrun, December 14th, 1962

Dear Esther,

It’s allright, i understand that settling down in a new place can take a long time, especially in London. It’s nice to hear from you, and i hope you and jenny and your grandma Mary are doing allright and keeping warm. Its snowing so heavily up here in York, which i suppose is why your letter took so long to reach me.

Anyway, i’m sorry if these letters seem awkward, i’m a terrible writer and sorry for my handwriting.

School by day and work by night? It seems so tiring. Please take care of yourself, you don’t want to push yourself too hard. I’m sorry, i worry a lot.

I’m well. Good, actually. I wish i could tell you. Should i tell you? I-

I wish i could tell you why exactly.

Little Cat started walking a few days ago. You should have seen her wobbling on her feet and laughing at her self. She has also started calling everything with four legs doggy- oh, i’m going to include a picture of Rin with this letter. She says hi too.

My father says that Little Cat must be really smart since she’s still so young and she’s already walking.

Minisa’s still impossible at cooking, but i’ve been teaching her, but Hoster doesn’t want her to get too worked up. She’s going to have another baby after all. They think that it’s going to be a boy, but whatever the baby is, i can’t wait.

And i’m sorry, again, for the way i acted that day by the river. I don’t know what came over me.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, Esther!

-BryndenTully

Ps. Dress warmly!

Pps. sorry..

#t: letter #c: brynden tully #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: depression #01

London, January 28th, 1963

Dear Brynden,

First of all, I'd like to apologize for taking such a long time to write to you again. I got your letter a little more than a week after you've wrote it; I haven't forgot about it and I've looked at it every day until now. It's just that many awful things happened since I sent you that letter and I couldn't find the strength to reply.

Since I’ve sent you that letter my sister Jenny met a man called Duncan Targaryen and ran away with him. I came home after work one night and all of her clothes were gone, and on the top of her bed explaining what had happened (they had met at a park and fell in love, but his family would never accept her so Jenny wrote that running was the only way they could ever be together). I was so angry; I nearly tore the apartment in two before grandma Mary stopped me. But still, I though Jenny would come back home sooner or later. Two weeks passed and I got a phone call, saying that there had been a fire at a place called Summerhall, and that my sister had passed away in the fire.

I don’t know how Duncan and Jenny were living there if his family wouldn’t accept her but still they were living in a mansion that belonged to the Targaryens for ages. Anyway, fact remains that I’ve lost my little sister and for these past weeks I feel like dying. Every day I struggled to do the most simple of things, like going to work or even writing to you. So I hope you can understand why I’ve taken so long.

I’m so sorry for burdening you with this but I can barely talk about it with anyone I think my grandmother is getting more sick every d and I thought maybe you’d understand.

Anyway, I hope that I haven’t bothered you with my problems and that you’re still reading this! Rin is so adorable! Have you had her for a long time? I never had pets and though I imagine it can be a lot of work, especially with a big dog like her, but it must be great to have her around.

So Riverrun can expect another baby soon? I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful uncle to both of them, to little Cat and the new baby!

Again, I’m sorry that I took so long to write back but from now on I hope I’ll take a lot less time,

Esther

letters → brynden | 1962 throught 1966

London, December 5th, 1962

Dear Brynden,

I know it's been a while since we talked that day, but there's been so much to do that I barely had time to sit down and breathe, and only now I've found the time to do it, I hope you can understand it.

We settled down in a small flat in Brixton. I'm working at a post office near by and hopefully I'll be back in school in a while, so I can get caught up with everything I missed these past few years. Maybe next year or so, when I've saved enough just to work in the afternoons and go to school by morning. Jenny is starting school after the holidays, she's excited and ended up enjoying the move quite a lot.

I haven't visited many places yet, but Jenny and I went ice skating near the Natural History Museum though, and it was nice. Everything here is so expens

How are things with you and your family? I hope you're feeling well and certainly better than that day we talked by the river.

Either way, I look forward to hearing from you,

Esther

PS: I was right, it does rain quite a lot.

PPS: You were right, it does feel rather lonely at times.

#t: letters #c: brynden tully #01

reservoir-of-blood

#ooc: pb post #not ooc at all tbh #replace 'dexter' with 'beric' and we're good to go

it's a long way down to the bottom of the river | beric & esther | september 27th

Once every so often, Esther took a day off from whatever she had scheduled to go to the Borough Market. She’s enjoyed the place ever since she came to London for the first time, though the first time she came to the market had more to do with wandering across town, trying to know the city the best she could.

Time passed and after she opened her own clinic (which resulted in a big investment but also the more money on her bank account than she could dream of at the age of twenty seven, especially given her past), Esther found herself going more and more, allowing herself a little luxury every now and then; to get the opportunity to buy so many different things.

Homemade chutney, organic fresh vegetables, all types of spices; it was all a nice change from the mass products in Tesco shelves down the road from her apartment. She had a bag full in her arms to bring back home after getting the tube, to put it all on the fridge before receiving the only two patients she had at the end of the day.

On the corner of a stall, a tall man caught her eye. Esther never needed glasses to see better, even despite her age, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time she thought she was seeing someone in front of her that turned out to be a completely different person. It wasn’t the case, however. In one million years she would have recognized Beric anywhere, needing glasses or not, but seeing him there was definitely a surprise. Taking a few steps, Esther approached the man and her suspicions were confirmed. “Beric?”

#blood and glory threads #t: prose #th: it's a long way down to the bottom of the river #c: beric dondarrion

I see how everything is torn in the river deep [Brynden & Esther; Flashback; 21st November 1962]

He took one last look at the writing and handed it to esther, smiling faintly, ” Here,” He said, ” Do write, as soon as you settle down, okay? I’ll send you a picture of my dog, Rin, with my reply. You should see her,”

” And…i don’t think i’ll be leaving with you and this carnival after all,”

#t: prose #th: i see how everything is torn in the river deep #c: brynden tully

Brynden hadn’t asked any more questions about the cards, which put Esther more at ease. He didn’t need to hear about the truth that the cards showed for him, it would only make things worse, and it could only make him want to run away from home even more (half the reason Esther never read the cards for herself was exactly that – she was scared of knowing what could happen to her, of what she’d see when she turned the third card up).

“I don’t know really. If the fair continues to go south, we’ll stick around for one more week maybe, to earn some extra money. If the managers decide to go north, we’ll leave in a couple of days.” She hoped they would continue to go south, so Esther could do one more stop before leaving for London, so she could possibly gain some extra money.

Esther took the piece of paper with Brynden’s address in York. It would probably be a while until she could properly write and tell him what had happened, but she liked the idea of keeping in touch with him. “I’d like to see your dog.” Looking at his address and knowing his surname, maybe it didn’t even made sense for them to keep talking, but Brynden hadn’t hesitated in agreeing with it, so it was probably a good sign.

She smiled a tiny inch when Brynden said he probably wouldn’t run away. “You’ll see it’s the right choice.” The life at the fair wasn’t for everyone, and sooner or later Brynden would regret it. No matter how awful his life was now, staying at home was the best think he could do.

“If you want to go around the fair a while more to see the attractions, you should. There’s good food and very talented people around.” She didn’t mean herself, obviously. Reading cards wasn’t half as difficult as breathing fire or swallowing swords. “I have to stay though. And given the line outside of the trailer, I’ll probably be here until the fair closes down."

She extended her hand and gave him a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Brynden Tully,” she said. “I’ll write you as soon as I get settled, so I’ll have tons to tell you.”

Well, my dear, it really isn’t gonna work that way (Esther Oldstones and Lester Morrigen, September 12th, 2012, evening)

He shakes his head, sharply, averting his eyes again to the wall on the other side of Esther instead of her. It’s easier, when he thinks he’s in black space. ”No. I didn’t get it biking.” He’s a careful driver. He’s a careful everything, when it gets down to it. He never mentioned the injury on his leg, did he? Perhaps he did. He’s forgotten, either way. Was it noticeable? Did people at work notice? He doesn’t think he could stand that, if that were true. ”I don’t—I don’t really remember. You see, I was—well, I never get drunk, that’s Rich’s thing…my other brother, but I can’t—I can’t ever seem to hold my liquor. So, I don’t remember very well. But it seems—I mean—it seems…” He bites his bottom lip and swallows. ”So. That’s why I’m here. Anyway.”

#t: prose #th: well my dear it really isn't gonna work that way #c: lester morrigen #tw: anxiety #tw: mental illness #tw: grief #tw: self-harm

Esther nods when he says he works as undersecretary at the Ministry of Defence. It’s a relatively high position, and it would probably allow him to know more than the usual worker. “And do you like working there?” No doubt it could be boring, but maybe Lester enjoyed it, given the little she knew from him already.

What he says next, however, is a complete surprise. Esther doesn’t have to work much to feign her astonishment – she has mastered the art several years ago. Still, for nothing in this world she would have expected to hear about a hacking group from one of her patients, one who wasn’t Beric, that is. “A hacking organization? How does that work?” she manages to say. Esther prides herself in knowing how to use a computer and her phone very well, a lot better than people of her own age that is, and though she’s more than certain about what Lester is saying, she wants to hear his opinions on the matter.

The part that worries her the slightest is how Lester, so far, seemed to react to the brotherhood. If he started digging up, would he eventually find something to link Beric to the hackings?

She can see him rocking back and forth as he speaks, saying little details about drinking and his injury that should form a proper mental image for Esther, but it’s not enough. “I know it can be painful to talk about certain things, but you can’t leave me guessing,” she says. Back when Esther worked at the fair, she guessed all sort of things when it came to clients who wanted to see their futures. Arched backs, trembling hands, every little movement could show Esther more than the clients were ready to reveal, but now is different. A therapist can’t help their patients merely by guessing; the healing part comes with talking about whatever they need to talk.

I see how everything is torn in the river deep [Brynden & Esther; Flashback; 21st November 1962]

He glanced over at the other two cards, and wondered if they were true. Was there really something that he didn’t know about? Will he really be strong enough to do anything?

His knee began to bounce again.

#t: prose #th: i see how everything is torn in the river deep #c: brynden tully #tw: anxiety

He asked her to tell what the card truly meant and Esther bit her lip. You don’t need to hear that, especially now. Instead, she tried to cheer up and explain how the cards worked. “It’s a good thing, I promise. I know the picture looks horrible but when it’s upside down, it means the opposite. All cards are like that.” she said with half a smile. “Like the strength upside down means there will be an obstacle ahead, and the high priestess upside down means someone is keeping information from you. There’s a limited number of cards in the major arcana, and we use the cards upside down to mean the opposite, instead of having separate cards for that.”

It never had been exactly easy to tell people who came to her to see how bright their futures would be, that in the end the future wouldn’t be so bright after all, that what waited for them was the opposite of whatever plans they had for themselves. She would manipulate words as to appease what the cards showed, and be done with it. This time she had no other option but to lie completely. Of course, the fact that she knew more about Brynden that she usually knew about most people who came to the trailer didn’t help at all. She looked at the three cards in the middle of the table and rested her hands in her lap again. “That would be all. The cards aren’t precise all the time, you know.”

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you think you can give me your address? So I can send you a postcard from London.” She’d like that, sending Brynden a postcard so she could tell him if it really rained a lot there or if it was lonely like he had told her. Brynden was nice and Esther would like to keep in touch with him if she could.

theoldmasquerade

Charlotte Rampling photographed by John Londono

#ooc: pb post #ooc

sevendeaths-deactivated20140707

all your thin little crimes | beric & esther | august 27th

After all this time. He sighed. Beric kissed Esther’s hand before standing up. “I’ve taken too much of your time already, I should leave now”. He was tired too, of trying to reach out for help when perhaps the answer was that he didn’t need help at all.

#t: prose #th: all your thin little crimes #c: beric dondarrion

Beric told her she could refuse to help him, and truly, Esther couldn’t expect anything less from him – he wouldn’t force her to participate, as he hadn’t forced her to join the brotherhood in its purpose. “I don’t have anything else to lose.” If anything, the physiological society might take her license from her but that’s nothing, especially when Esther already planned to retire in the end of next year. Give or take one year working, it won’t change much for her. Not for nothing in this world Esther believed they’d throw her on jail, so that possibility passes her mind quickly. Still, if somehow there’s any price to pay, she would pay it willingly.

(The thing that worried her was how Beric had so much to lose. He was young, in love with a woman who still loved him back, who had friends who would stand by him no matter what. Esther, on the other hand, was old and the only people who might actually care for her in the planet were Brynden and Beric. He, unlike Esther had so much to lose, and yet she didn’t say anything).

When he kneeled down and took her hand, Esther smiled – not the semi-manufactured smile she’s worked on over the years to show it to patients, but a true one, because deep down the fact that Beric and her were friends above all, despite everything, and that hadn’t changed at all. “I’ve told you you’re a good man, and I’ll stand by that.” A thought came across her mind – how, if she and William ever had had children together, one of them might have been the same age as Beric was now, give or take a couple of years. Would she react the same way if it was her child kneeling in front of her now, leader of a group of hackers set to make England a better place, even if they had bloody hands? Esther had never known motherhood, nor would she ever, so the question was useless in the end. She felt a dull pang on her heart when Beric kissed her hand, but said nothing.

She understood Beric was here for more than he would have liked, especially given the reason he was there in the first place, so Esther didn’t fight back when he mentioned leaving. “Start eating and sleeping properly, unless you want to have me call both Allyria and Thoros to check on the last time you did those things.” Stop looking like death so much, she thought, and opened the door for Beric to go, leaving Esther alone in her apartment again.

Well, my dear, it really isn’t gonna work that way (Esther Oldstones and Lester Morrigen, September 12th, 2012, evening)

His hand is running through his hair and he’s distracted, looking at the wall behind Esther instead of her. He snaps his attention back to her, realizing how terribly rude he’s being. ”And that’s…that’s about it.”

#t: prose #th: well my dear it really isn't gonna work that way #c: lester morrigen #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: anxiety #tw: self-harm

It’s normal for people to mention their jobs as they talk about themselves and the reasons they began to seek therapy; sometimes they explained they were troubled because of this or that, explained the whole system and the workers of a company that Esther had never set foot in, and yet she ended up knowing more than others that worked there. When Lester mentions the Ministry of Defence, however, Esther gets instantly interested, and not for the usual reasons. “What kind of work do you do there?”

When Lester says the death of one of his brothers isn’t the entire reason why he’s there, Esther is not surprised. It’s not just the death, but the chain of events that the loss of a loved one triggers. “It’s not easy to lose a sibling,” she says. Esther knows very well how difficult it can be, though the circumstances of the death of Lester’s brother worry her. Not exactly Lester himself, he’s a considerably thin and small young man, but the mass of people who lost friends and family at the bombing of the Olympic stadium, that’s a very different matter. “We can talk about him, if you’d like. Maybe not today but some day we will.”

Esther cracks a thin smile at the “It’s perfectly fine not to have fallen in love with someone. Some people never do and there’s nothing wrong with that.” It was funny how that went, that near obsession with love the society seemed to like so much lately. First, when Esther was young, was the obsession with getting a job and being a full member of society, then it became the basic. Now the same thing happened with feelings, a frenzy she didn’t understood at all. To Esther love had come naturally – two people meeting at a post office hardly seemed the most romantic thing in the world, but it worked in ways she never imagined – and by the time she had med William, love was the last thing in her mind (after William’s death, there hadn’t been anyone else, and maybe it was better that way).

Esther doubts that that was really all – in fact, other than his job at the main building and the death of his brother, Lester had given her very little facts that she could work with. Still, she decides to poke him about the injury in his leg. “You said you like to bike, is that how you hurt yourself?”

I see how everything is torn in the river deep [Brynden & Esther; Flashback; 21st November 1962]

Then, Esther stopped and looked at him. The next card will be his future, he realized, and a part of him wanted to say to her to not turn the card and tell him its meaning. But…

” It’s allright,” He said, ” I want to know,”