Helloo :D
Whilst searching Youtube yesterday, I found the trailer for the third series :D - well its sort of a trailer, i'll have to give you guys the link. In it there was a little clip of what looked like Matthew and Tom having a little heart to heart. This is kind of devised around that :D
Enjoy :D
Tom let out an exasperated sigh, covering his face with both of his hands to ease some of his frustration. After another spat with Lord Grantham with no light of resolving their, well his, issues, he just excused himself from the drawing room, taking leave upstairs to put on a less expensive suit and took a walk. The air did him good – the walk didn't. He decided that the only way calming him down would be by venting his pent up anger on a tree by punching it, bruising and bloodying his knuckles.
"Shit," he hissed as the air stung the wound. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, binding it tightly around his hand, hopefully stopping it from bleeding. He felt the pain numb slightly but he knew that he would pay for it in the morning. He didn't even know if his knuckles were broken and God knows how he would find out. He couldn't show Sybil, she'd think that he punched someone, not a tree.
He decided that the pain was a little too much for him to carry on walking, so he turned back, journeying back to the dark house. Everyone must have gone to bed, he thought; it had been a long day.
The manor was pretty much silent and dark, apart from a small light that Tom noticed out of the corner of his eye. He did want to investigate but if it was Lord Grantham he would regret it immensely as their arguments would wake the whole house. But as he journeyed toward the stairs he saw Lady Mary storm from the room, head in hands and her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He was frozen; he didn't know what to do. Crying women weren't exactly his forte, apart from his wife who cried over the most silliest of things; he couldn't blame her, she was pregnant.
"Are you alright?" he whispered to her and she snapped up her head. She sighed, whether it was with relief or resentment he didn't know but her answer told him that it was relief.
"No, not really and with Matthew, I honestly thought I could be but…" she whispered through her tears. She shook her head, probably trying to get rid of those ghastly things called emotions, excused herself and bade him goodnight. He heard grumbling and glass clinking form the other room, telling him that it was Matthew in there and not Lord Grantham. Thank God.
He knocked on the door, poking his head round to see Matthew gulping down an unhealthy amount of alcohol.
"That won't help you," Tom said, taking away the glass and the decanter. Matthew sighed, sitting in the armchair in front of the fire and put his head in his hands. There was a still silence as none of them said a word or moved a muscle.
Matthew broke the frozen frame and lifted his head. Tom noticed that a tear fall down his cheek and sat in the chair next to him. He felt sorry for him as he could see that all of his arguments with Mary were, if this was not at all fixable, in vain and all the anguish for nothing.
"I've ruined this," He stated tearfully. "I mean, she thinks that I don't love her, only her money but that's not true…"
Tom sat back, trying not to smile as the similarities between them were becoming obvious to all.
"Welcome to my world," he mumbled, taking a drink for himself.
Matthew chuckled and said, "Suppose you're right. We really don't belong here do we?"
Tom had poured himself a drink before sitting, and took a small swig of it then. Matthew eyed him and shook his head; it wasn't fair.
"I don't know about you but I certainly don't. I don't suit it." Tom sighed.
Matthew chuckled, "Ahh. I know the feeling so well. When I first came here it was cold looks all around, maybe not the frozen to the bone ones you're getting but still quite harsh. After a while, they realised that I wasn't going away and they decided that it was better to be friends than to quarrel."
Tom scoffed.
"It's only a matter of time. You've said so yourself,"
Tom shook his head, taking another sip, "It's not just that. I think they've realised that it's not only me that doesn't suit this life, Sybil doesn't either. In all the time I've known her, I've never seen her as contented with this kind of life as Edith and Mary are."
Matthew caught the sense of longing in Tom's voice and features, highlighting his…regret of not telling them or doing something sooner. Was regret the right word? When the news did come out, Matthew was shocked at first but after thinking about it, it was so bloody obvious that they could have done a song and dance about it and none of them would have noticed. All the time she spent in the garage or going out to do some menial errand and of course the elopement; Sybil being so conveniently sick and he too. God, how he and the others were blind.
"You know, I still tot his day cannot believe that I didn't notice. Thinking back, it was fairly clear to see," Matthew mused. Tom started to laugh and said thorugh it,
"I honestly thought that one day Carson or his lordship was going to knock on my door and literally kick me out,"
Matthew joined in, "Careful, he might still do that,"
Matthew felt his anger and upset soon wash away, though he still needed something to soothe it. He got up, retrieving the glass Tom took off of him. He was glad that the Irishman didn't stop him; he must have thought it appropriate now that he wasn't as forlorn. But that didn't distract him from asking what had happened.
"Again, the business about the money. Mary believes that I don't love her and that I have grown into something that she didn't fall in love with to begin with. She thinks that because I want to get a job or some kind of financial security that I am not on 'her side' which, honestly, I don't know what that is-
"The aristocracy. That's what she means,"
"Oh. Well that explains everything. But anyway, It's either I love her enough to find a job for her, meaning that I am not on 'her side' or that I am on her side, meaning that only want whatever dwindling sum is left of her inheritance, meaning that I don't love her at all. It's gotten to the point where I think that giving up will just be the best thing to do, you know, cancel the wedding,"
Tom tried to get his head around the seemingly stupid reasons Lady Mary had for trying to break off, or trying to get Matthew to break off, their love and their wedding. He remembered how Sybil would say that marriage would be a mistake but as time went by and the day got closer, all the fallings out didn't matter and were effectively voided.
"Listen Matthew, I know that I shouldn't be poking around your business but, when I worked here, I mean, the others downstairs, well, they're not idiots. We could see from a mile off that you two were still in love even though you were all set to go your different ways. Of course with Sybil and me they weren't exactly so forthcoming-"
"Because you were poor? Without use of a better word?"
Tom chuckled, knowing that Matthew couldn't really be
"No, because I was Irish and possibly couldn't be trusted; there's a big difference, which is kind of racist but anyhow – I'm going to give you some advice, you might not agree with it, but you'll know it to be true. You'll never be happy with anyone else as long as Lady Mary walks this Earth. I'm sorry, but you won't."
Matthew gave a thoughtful look, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow to see the truth in his, hopefully, soon to be brother in law's words. He didn't want to admit it but Tom was right; he wasn't happy with Lavinia, well he was but little niggling thoughts of Mary would pop into his mind, about her feelings and how she was faring but now that they were once again together, there was not guilt. He noticed a sort of smug smile creep around the Irishman's features as he finished off his drink and set it back on the tray.
"What did you do to your hand?" Matthew pointed.
"Punched a tree,"
"Why?"
Tom rolled his eyes and Matthew nodded; the answer was fairly obvious.
They stayed downstairs for a while, talking and rather boldly, drinking the majority of the decanted alcohol, until the clock chimed midnight. They decided then that it was time for bed.
"Huh?" Sybil mumbled as the light turned on and someone stumbled loudly over something. She giggled at Tom's expression of pure fear as he stood frozen at the end of the room, knowing that he had woken her.
"What time is it?"
"Around about 12, go back to sleep," he whispered, though Sybil could hear the slight slur. She bit her lip, holding in her laughter at his slightly tipsy behaviour.
"Where were you?"
"Downstairs, well, I did go for a walk and then something happened between your sister and Matthew. She ran upstairs and I sat and had a chat with him. HE wasn't too good himself," he explained, some fo his words muffled by him undressing at the same time. She again tried not to laugh but when he almost fell over, she picked up her pillow and sniggered into it, trying not to howl with laughter.
"It's not funny," he groaned, sliding into bed next to her. He felt the tiny bump of their child nestled between them and the slight movement of the bump told him that their little one was up.
"Is Matthew okay now?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Well, he's kind of a bit tipsy but nothing too bad," Tom said, blushing a little as he remembered one night back in Dublin…well, he remembered Sybil screaming at him about it.
Sybil laughed once; she knew exactly what bad was.
"That's good then. You've escaped my screaming for one night,"
Tom smiled, wraping his arm around her…the hand that he punched the tree with, clearly on show to her.
"What did you do to your hand?" she gasped, her voice going up an octave.
He sighed, groaning a little; I didn't miss getting told off after all, he thought.
A/N: Was it good? I haven't really done a one-shot before so i hope its decent.
And more sad news, the trailer I found got taken down because of copyright! So you cant see it, you just have to take my word for it I'm afraid.
This will be my last thing before going on holiday - sad :(
Please tell me what you think :D
GMJ-17 xxxx