Alastair Carstairs & Matthew Fairchild
June 1927
Cornwall Gardens, London >>> Mayfair, London
Fairchild,
It is with some reluctance that I write to notify you of two updates; one is standard, and the latter is quite alarming.
Firstly, Graham continues to progress nicely in his piano lessons. I can tell your son completes his assigned exercises each week, and no one can deny he is a natural virtuoso; piano will add nicely to his portfolio of other instruments, and I genuinely believe your son could have a promising future in the arts. During his lessons, he remains patient, attentive, and respectful - all antonyms, I fear, to yourself at his age. Thomas and I often wonder how he came from you and Esme - he is so unlike Vienna and Raya.
Though it pains to me to admit it, he is a wonderful student and a fine young gentleman - I quite enjoy our weekly lessons, and find myself looking forward to our Thursday afternoons together.
However, being a fine gentleman does not give him permission to court my daughter.
I am not sure if this something Graham has discussed with you, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt. However, you can imagine my alarm today when Essa informed us of Graham and Theodore’s decision to become parabatai - Thomas and I were somewhat taken aback, as Essa and Graham have always been so close. We figured that the two of them would be parabatai one day, and were worried that Essa was hurt. When we asked her about it, she simply laughed and said she and Graham couldn’t possibly be parabatai, because they are going to get married one day.
Yes, you read that right. According to my daughter, she is going to marry your son when they are older.
Which means: you and I would be in-laws.
This, of course, is not a suitable arrangement. Not only is it unfair to Essa (who is far too good for any man, especially a Fairchild), but it is not fair to any future grandchildren, whom would surely prefer their Grandpa Alastair over their Grandpa Matthew. Truly, it is in your own best interests to enquire of Graham further and get back to me post-haste.
(Thomas has been laughing for the past twenty minutes. We must put an end to this.)
Yours distastefully,
A. Carstairs
Mayfair, London >>> Cornwall Gardens, London
A. Carstairs,
I will not lie: your message made me laugh.
I laughed and laughed, for never before had I heard such swill. My son, and your daughter? Surely not; I have made mistakes in my past, but surely this would not be the punishment the Angel chose for me.
But I decided to ask Graham, just to humour you.
And you know what he said - my own son, uttering such a betrayal? - he said, “Of course, Dad. I’ve always loved Essa; we have always planned to get married. Surely you knew that.”
Know that I did not. I wept awful tears, and Esme had to comfort me in the best possible way, in the confines of our private, married quarters. Hence the awful delay in this reply; say what you will about Fairchild men (Charles excluded), but we know how to how to make our comfort, if you will, last.
(I can sense you rolling your eyes, and I am pleased. Never stop rolling those handsome black orbs, as Thomas writes in his awful poetry, you gorgeous, Persian prince.)
After “comforting” me more than once, Esme reassured me that all will be fine; Graham is but fourteen, and Essa fifteen. They are still too young - their minds can surely change as they age.
Here’s what we will do: let’s put a limit on when they court. Esme and I already planned to tell Graham he had to wait until he was sixteen to court, so you pick an age and tell Essa the same. If they’re still interested then… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.
I have to go - my wife is trying to comfort me again, and I would be a fool to turn her down.
Yours forever and always,
Matthew
Cornwall Gardens, London >>> Mayfair, London
Fairchild,
I am going to “comfort” Thomas and try to forget everything I just read.
We will tell Essa she has to wait until she is sixteen, too.
Try not to speak to me until then.
-A. Carstairs
May 1929
Mayfair, London >>> Cornwall Gardens, London
Alastair,
What a beautiful day to celebrate the birth of my only son, I thought when I awoke this morning. Sixteen years since he has entered my life rather unexpectedly (you’ll recall he was born on the floor of the drawing room of our first house - Graham has always been full of unexpected surprises, from that very first day), and completely captured my heart. I love him more than life itself; there is absolutely nothing he could do to shake my love and adoration for him.
However.
My boy - my son - woke this morning, came down to the breakfast parlour, and shared that he was on his way to the Lightwood-Carstairs’ residence post-haste, to announce his plans to court Essa.
Esme and I were utterly shocked. An egg slid off my plate, for I had tilted it in my distraction, and fell straight on top of Raya’s head.
We could not stop him - you know how stubborn he is. Heed this as a warning - Graham is on his way to you and Thomas, to ask your permission now.
Best of luck. I must go pick bits of egg out of my crying daughter’s hair.
-Matthew
Cornwall Gardens, London >>> Mayfair, London
Fairchild,
I see your plan: make me the bad guy. Make me be the one to turn him down.
Well, I meant to - I really did.
And then Graham came and talked to Thomas and I, and I nearly wept.
He certainly loves her, that much is certain. He showed up with flowers and sheet music, and he wanted to show us the compositions he has written for Essa over the past few years.
Do you know how many he wrote? Ninety-nine.
Yes, you read that correctly. Somehow, someway, Matthew Fairchild produced a talented, disciplined son who wrote my daughter ninety-nine pieces of original music, all before he started courting her.
He told us that he has been waiting to write his hundredth piece dedicated to her for when he asks her to marry him, for that has always been his intention.
Clearly, they care for one another greatly. I love my daughter too much to stand between her and any happiness (even if it is to be found with, of all people, Matthew Fairchild’s son), so Thomas and I have given our blessing. They are now courting - we told him, however, that they could not wed until they are at least eighteen. I do hope you will agree with that, and do not pick a fight with me just to be pedantic.
Though it pains me to say it, Graham is a credit to you (and, to a less painful extent, Esme). He is a lovely boy, and I trust he will treat my daughter well.
If not, well, Thomas will introduce him to our good friend the Thames.
I look forward to sharing grandchildren with you, and apologize in advance that I will always be the favorite grandpa.
Your future in-law,
A. Carstairs
Mayfair, London >>> Curzon Street, London
[Copy of above message attached]
Jamie,
This is the worst day of my life. Come hither, for I need comfort and a manly embrace.
Your desperate parabatai,
Matthew
Curzon Street, London >>> Mayfair, London
Math,
I’m on my way. Be strong.
(Cordelia is jumping for joy - if it’s any consolation, this union will make Cordelia family, as well as Alastair!)
(I know that will not be enough to soothe you. I am on my way now.)
Yours,
James