Edith was suddenly uncomfortable. Her grandmother, the Dowager Countess had asked Anthony Strallan to tea with them because as Granny had explained, "Edith seemed upset that Sir Anthony wouldn't come to the New Year's Day shoot." She watched him drive up and his chauffeur open the car door. "That's strange," her grandmother remarked. "He never used to use a chauffeur." Before Edith could gather her thoughts, he came through the door into the sitting room. She hadn't seen him up close like this for over four years and immediately noticed that he had changed. He was thinner in body and face, but his eyes were still the clear blue that she remembered.
He must have seen her out the corner of his eye because as he turned to her his face registered shock. Then he smiled – but it was not the smile she remembered. Her presence made him uneasy, she could tell.
The last time she had talked to him had been at her family's garden party four years earlier. They had been spending a lot of time together and he had led her to believe that he was going to ask her to marry him that day. However, Mary talked to him first and by the time Edith saw him, he was leaving. No question! No smile! No nothing! It was only later when Mary told her what she had said to him that Edith knew why he had left, and that any chance of marrying him was gone. She knew why Mary wanted to hurt her, but Anthony had done nothing to warrant the hateful things that Mary had said to him. The only thing he had done wrong was to prefer her to Mary.
Edith took a deep breath and walked toward him, her hand outstretched.
"It's so good to see you and to know that many of our friends have come through unscathed."
He took her hand in his left one.
Not everyone I am sorry to say. I took a bullet in my right arm and now it is no good to either man or beast," he said with a smile on his face, but the smile was forced, not genuine like it used to be.
They exchanged small talk and local gossip. Granny talked about Sybil and Branson, how sick they all had been during the Spanish Flu outbreak and about the Abbey and how it had been a rehabilitation home. She went on and on about what Edith had done there during the war, what a wonderful job she had done helping the wounded men recover. Edith was embarrassed. Granny could keep any conversation going but Edith was more interested in what was not being said. When her grandmother brought up the war, Anthony brushed over it and changed the subject. Something was wrong and it pained her to see him this way. Something had happened to him, other than his arm getting hurt; she could sense it. Feeling that her presence caused him distress, she rose to her feet and said, "Granny, Sir Anthony, excuse me but I must be going. I have some errands to finish and packages to pick up before I head back home."
"What errands, what packages?" You didn't say anything about any errands when you arrived," Violet said in her most dowager voice.
"I must have forgotten to mention it," Edith said as she gathered up her purse.
"Sir Anthony – it was so nice to see you again," she remarked with a smile on her face as she put her left out to shake his hand.
She didn't hear what he replied – if he replied. All she wanted to do was get out of there. Her heart was beating as fast now as when he first came into the room. Being so close to him after all these years was discomforting. Seeing him like this made her sad. Did he still remember that terrible day? What a stupid thing to think – of course he did, she thought. One could not forget being called old, a boor, or a fool.
She wanted to run down the driveway, but walked slowly until she rounded the stone entrance to her grandmother's house; then leaned against the cold wall and let the tears spill from her eyes. Dear God, she thought, What has happened to him?
Anthony Strallan – she remembered the good times they had spent together, and now four years later after seeing him again, her heart ached because she remembered how much she had cared for him back then; she had fallen in love with him! Why had she felt that way about him? Why had she thought about him so many times during the war and wondered what he was doing, where he was, if he was safe? The answer was always obvious; he more than anyone else understood her. He knew who she really was and he knew what she could become with a little help from someone who loved her. But above all he had been her friend – her only really close friend. He was someone she could laugh with and talk to about almost anything. Their times together had been so good. He was a happy, kind man with a wonderful sense of humor. He was a shy and thoughtful and she had loved every minute they ever spent together. But now, she thought, all that is gone.
Shortly after the war had been announced Downton was in upheaval. Matthew had enlisted, Sybil had gone to York to study to be a nurse, her father had tried and failed to get back into the army, Thomas, the footman had enlisted in the Medical Corp and William, their youngest footman had been conscripted. Everything had changed – and not slowly.
It had been about a week after the garden party when Edith knew she had to see Sir Anthony and try to apologize or at least explain what had happened. She had practiced what she would say to him, and hoped he would be forgiving. It took all her nerve to have Branson drive her over to Strallan Park. But Sir Anthony wasn't there. His butler told her that he had been called to London two days after the war had been declared. Weeks later she had seen his butler Harris in the village, and he told her Sir Anthony only came back occasionally now to tend to estate business and then left as soon as it was done. She knew she should have followed him home the day of the garden party or at least gone over the next day, but because of her being such a coward, she had lost him. Any feeling he had for her must be gone.
By that time Downton had been turned into a rehabilitation home and she found that her days were busy. She helped the men by getting them books, helping them write letters, listening to what they had to say and she was aware that she was good at it. She was especially fond of Captain Robert Smiley. He had lost his left hand and she had helped him write a letter to his mother explaining what had happened. He had joked about the irony of losing his writing hand. He never complained. Everyday he practiced using his right hand. He had been a bookkeeper before the war and he wanted to get his job back when the war was over. He was determined to be able to write well enough with his right hand so t people could read his "scribbles" as he called them. At the end of each day she was satisfied and happy. She hoped that she had in some small way made a difference in their lives. The broken, burned, scarred bodies of the soldiers didn't bother her. She never turned away. They were human beings hurting and needing kindness. Many days she sat and talked at length with some of them, and her heart ached for the ones that had nothing waiting for them when they left Downton; no family, no friends, just loneliness. She understood loneliness only too well and was glad she took the time to listen; that she was the one they could talk to at such a terrible time in their lives.
She had been thinking all these things as she walked home. Suddenly she realized she was walking on the road instead of the path that led between the village and Downton. Lost in thought, she had taken the long way around. She heard a car behind her and moved closer to edge of the road. She was looking off to the side when it passed and then she heard it stop. Looking up she recognized the open Rolls Royce of Sir Anthony. Oh God, she thought, her nervousness coming back.
"Lady Edith, what are you doing walking on the road?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
"I guess I was lost in thought and didn't realize where I was. By the time I noticed, I was too far along to walk back to the village."
"Please get in the car and let me take you home. It is starting to get dark and the shadows make it hard to see."
He opened the back door with his left hand and put it out to help her.
"Where are your packages? When you left your grandmothers you said you had some errands to run and packages to pick up. Do we need to turn around and go get them?"
My God, she thought. I told this huge lie and he remembered everything I said.
"No, thank you!" She lied again. "My order wasn't complete."
There was nothing she could do except let him help her into the car. He moved over so she could sit where he had been and put the lap robe across her legs. He had never used a robe before, but he had never used a chauffeur before either.
His action is natural, she thought. He did the same thing for me so long ago when we drove to the concert in York she smiled as she thought of that night so long ago.
"Does the robe bother you? It is getting chilly out." he asked.
"No, it's fine" she answered. "Thank you!"
He asked her some more questions about what she did during the war and suddenly for some unknown reason she blurted out.
"You know, I learned to drive. Branson taught me. I enjoyed the drives we used to take and wanted to drive myself. It took me a while. I had trouble shifting gears and working the clutch at the same time. But I finally learned how, much to Branson's relief I suspect. I even learned to drive a tractor. I helped one of papa's tenants pull out a tree stump (she didn't mention that she also had kissed said tenant).
Good God Edith, she thought, why did you say that?
He gave her a most incredicious look, then smiled and said, "Well good for you Edith. Learning to drive isn't easy and the fact that you decided to learn how to do it took nerve and resolve. Bravo!"
She put her head down slightly embarrassed but smiled and laughed as she looked at him.
Suddenly Downton loomed ahead of them. She wished that they could just keep driving, just keep talking, just keep sitting close to one another, but she knew that these few short minutes together were ending.
"Thank you, Sir Anthony. It was more than kind to offer me a ride."
As she got out of the car she turned and held out her left hand. He took it in his – holding it a second longer than he had done earlier in the day.
She watched his car go down the drive and wondered if she would see him again? She wanted to see him again, so much. Somehow she would figure out a way to make that happen.
The war had changed her – she knew that. She was not the same shy, unnoticed, caustic, envious, jealous person she had been before. She was stronger than she thought she could be. The things she had seen and done at Downton had tempered her, made her she hoped a better person and certainly one who was ready for a change. The Abbey had been her home forever, but now she wanted to leave. Mary, she knew wanted to play the grand lady with Matthew; let her. Sybil had left for a completely new life with Tom Branson in Ireland and Edith wished them happiness with all her heart. And she wanted a new life too. She wanted to find a place where she belonged, where she could do something that mattered. What it was or what it looked like she didn't know, but staying at Downton Abbey was not it.