FIC: Visitors pt6/6
The final part! And Mr C finally makes a proper appearance :)
Title: Visitors Pt 6
Rating: PG
Spoilers: SEASON 3 EPISODE 2 (& possibly some Episode 3 related chat)
Charles Carson had been out of sorts since before he was supposed to know something was wrong and ever since Elsie had gone in for her surgery Beryl had watched him withdraw from the rest of the household. They had tried to prompt him into going and seeing her, suspecting that it would do them both good but every time it had been mentioned he’d always skirted the issue or down right refused. A few days ago, when the patient was recovered enough that they could all see the threat of boredom on the horizon, Anna had asked Mr Carson if he might help select a book for the housekeeper from his Lordship’s library and he had apparently agreed quite readily. Not only that but he had troubled His Lordship to check the ledger so that he could remind himself of what she had already read, but when the housemaid had suggested he might like to write a note to go with it he had declined quite gruffly.
Given this, it had been reassuring to see him returned to something much more akin to his normal temperament when he had come back down stairs after his meeting with Her Ladyship the previous day. He had been like a man on a mission since then, seeming absolutely driven to insure the household was in as good order as possible. When the question of who would go to the hospital that morning had been raised he had excused himself saying that he had some work Her Ladyship had requested to oversee. For the first time since this had all begun however, Beryl had believed that he genuinely did have things to do and he’d had something of a spring in his step even if he was as outwardly proper as ever. Yes, there had been a definite spark about him as he’d summoned Alfred and Anna away from the breakfast table as soon as they were done.
When he opened the door of the motorcar however, Mr Carson looked as skittish as a new colt just finding it’s legs.
“Ladies,” he greeted them in his low grumble.
“Mr Carson,” the housekeeper said, obviously doing her best to appear her usual self, “it’s good to see you.”
“Yes, it… it’s good to have you back.”
“Right well, let’s actually get you through the door shall we?” Beryl suggested, sitting forward and readying herself to get down.
“Allow me,” Mr Carson said, stepping back and offering her a supporting arm to lean on. She watch as the other woman pushed the rug to one side and gingerly shifted forward to the edge of the seat. She took the proffered elbow and carefully descended the steps but once she was outside the vehicle paused.
“Are you quite well, Mrs Hughes?” the butler asked looking down at her.
“Quite,” she replied tersely, but he looked about as convinced as the cook was.
“I’m right behind you,” she said when he glanced over his shoulder. “You keep going and I’ll sort out the bags.
“Alfred!” Mr Carson called, “Where is that boy?”
“Sorry Mr Carson,” the gangly youth said, bounding out of the back door, “I was just finishing…”
“Yes, yes,” Carson said, obviously wanting to derail him, “see to the bags wont you.”
“Yes, sir.” The lad ducked his head and headed towards the motor where the chauffer was unloading their things.
“I thought you might like tea in your sitting room,” the butler said, “though if you’d rather…?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Perhaps,” Beryl began, watching the stiff set of the other woman’s shoulders and the way she was leaning in to her escort, “you ought to go straight up stairs.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Elsie said as they entered the house, “but I’m quite certain that a cup of tea will revive me no end.”
“Daisy!” she called, as they passed the entrance to the kitchen.
“I’ve laid the tea in Mrs Hughes study,” the girl said as she appeared in the doorway wiping her hands on her apron. Beryl thought with a swell of pride that she looked quite at home there. “It’s good to have you home, Mrs Hughes,” she added with a shy smile.
“It’s good to be here.”
“If you’ll excuse us Daisy,” Mr Carson said, steering the housekeeper towards the door of her sitting room.
“Oh,” the other woman said, as the door opened and she stepped away from Mr Carson.
“Dr Clarkson suggested to Her Ladyship that the stairs might be something of a trial to begin with so we thought…” he trailed off but they’d now moved far enough in to the room to allow her to see what it was that they were talking about and what it was that Mr Carson had obviously been up to that morning. Along the wall, where there usually sat a small dining table and two straight backed chairs, there was now a bed, perfectly made up and not looking nearly so out of place as she might have expected.
“That was very thoughtful,” Elsie said slightly distantly, drifting across the room and running her hand along the edge of desk. She looked almost like a ghost of her former self but Beryl’s practical side pointed out that was most probably because she was white as a sheet.
“And quite sensible I think,” she said breaking the momentary melancholy that had settled over the room.
“Yes,” she agreed, turning slowly and offering them a tired smile.
“Well why don’t you pour the tea Mr Carson? And I’ll help Mrs Hughes out of her coat.”
“Of course,” Carson bristled stepping over to her desk where a space had been cleared and the tea tray laid.
“Alright?” she asked quietly, receiving only a tight lipped nod in reply but when the other woman lifted her arms to remove her hat, the gesture was cut short. “Here, let me,” she said, stepping forward.
“Thank you.” It was almost inaudible.
“You’ll feel better once we get you settled and some tea inside you,” she burbled away as she undid the fastenings on the other woman’s jacket and help her ease her arms free of the sleeves. By the time they were done the other woman looked ready to drop.
“I… uh took the liberty of adding some sugar,” Mr Carson said once the housekeeper was settled on the small settee presenting her with a cup and saucer.
“I’m sure this’ll see me right,” she said, accepting it with an unsteady hand.
“It’ll help,” Beryl said, having hung up both their things on the back of the door.
“Well perhaps then you can rest before lunch,” Mr Carson suggested, perching upright on the edge of the chair he had brought around from behind the desk.
“I…” Elsie began, obviously about to protest. Beryl watched from the sidelines this time at the battle of wills going on. “Actually I think that might be a good idea. First though, tell me what it is that you have been struggling with?”
Half an hour later, and the mood of both the housekeeper and the butler seemed to have improved drastically and she even had a little colour to her cheeks. Despite that however, the third time that Elsie had to stop her head falling forward, Beryl decided enough was enough.
“Time for us to go Mr Carson,” she declared standing and straightening her skirts.
“Of course, you must have work to do,” the housekeeper said.
“And you need to rest,” the butler said, also standing and moving the chair he had been sitting on back to where it had come from.
“You’ll bring the account book by though?” she asked.
“This afternoon, I think,” he said, eyeing her carefully. “Now if you’ll excuse me ladies,” he went to leave but paused with his hand on the door handle and turned back round. “It really is terribly good to have you back.”
“And I meant what I said too, it’s good to be back.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to rest but if there’s anything at all you need.”
“I’ll call the hall boy or one of my maids,” she replied with a knowing smile.
“Yes, well…”
“I’ll see you at lunch Mr Carson.”
“Only if you feel well enough to join us,”
“I’ll be there, and I intend to go over those accounts this afternoon.”
“As long as you don’t push yourself too far,” he said with a frown.
“Is that the doorbell I hear?” Beryl said, cocking her head as though she were straining to hear something in the distance.
“Is it?” the Butler asked, “Until later, ladies,” he said, bidding them farewell and leaving the room.
“That was cruel!” Elsie said in a hushed voice, her eyes twinkling.
“That man is something else, we couldn’t get him within ten feet of you for a week and now that you’re back we can’t get him out of the room.”
“He doesn’t find these things easy,” Elsie said quietly, picking at her skirt.
“I don’t think any of us do,” she countered. “Still though, I’m sure things will settle down. Right, let’s get your boots off and you can have a lie down while I go and see what a mess that young girl’s made of my kitchen.” She kept talking away but by the time she opened the door to leave, it was quite clear that Elsie Hughes was fast asleep.
Well I hope you've enjoyed, I have a couple of other ideas on the back burner but I always love to hear your thoughts and ideas!