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Monday, 4 May 2015


“Well, wait till you hear what I have to tell you!”

Esmé just smiled. 

“Thing is, I’m not just rich, but I’m also … a lord.”

“Wai would never have guessed,” said Keith drily.  “All those airs and grices.  Oi mayn, just so top drawer, ya knaow.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.  But I’m serious.  I’m the son of a duke and I have a title of my own.  And when I came to Oz I wanted to put all that behind me.  Like I said.  But I just want to say, just because I’m an in-bred toff doesn’t mean it will change anything between us.”  This confident assertion was spoiled by him immediately saying, nervously, “Will it?”  Before anyone could answer, Jason added, “I didn’t want to tell you, well, because of Brent and the money thing, and because, well, you know, maybe you would see me differently.”  He looked away and swallowed.  “I wanted you to be my friends.  And I … well, I know you might feel strange with me being a lord and rich and stuff.”

“Meh,” shrugged Keith.  “I’d guessed ya were a toff anyway.  Mikes nao diff to me.”

“It’s just,” explained Jason eagerly, “that when I start this new home, I’ll want as much publicity as possible to get donations.  And you know with a title, and a poncey accent I can maybe make this home a success.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” said Luigi.  He smiled fondly at Jason.  “You’re not special because you’re a fucking lord, mate.” 

“Talkin’ of fuckin’ …” said Keith with a wicked grin on his face, “haow come ya don’t go in for high hayls and fishnet stockin’s, like all those Eton types?”

“Try anything once,” said Jason with a relieved grin. “Even you, you idiot!”

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