A/N:
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey or the characters from Downton Abbey. Further disclaimer: I will be referencing fictional choral events/conventions/competitions. They are loosely inspired by real ones, but there should be no real resemblance.
Hello again! For newcomers, welcome! This is a sequel to "Dashing Away with the Music Sheets, She Stole My Choir Away". Trust me when I say that it will help to read that first if you've not already done so.
To returning readers, thank you so very much for joining me again! Do note that this will be a little different than the previous story: we're going to go a bit more in depth into some singing techniques, we're going to have solos for a fair amount of the main ensemble, there'll definitely be some drama, and there'll be far more than just a hint of Chelsie romance this time around.
Also! In this chapter, italicized quotations ("like so"), simply refer to phone calls. Normally, they'd be referring to song lyrics.
And finally, this chapter is also a little longer than normal. It's also very Elsie heavy. It does not reflect the overall perspective of the story - I certainly plan on bouncing around perspectives like normal - it's just to set the stage.
Now, who's ready for the story to begin?
_._
It was just the start of another day for Elsie Hughes.
Except, there were two differences:
Instead of scouring newspapers and the Internet in search of potential job - on the very off chance Downton no longer wanted her services - she found herself able to rest in bed for a extra few minutes.
Though, the second difference didn't keep her in bed for much longer.
With a readiness that wasn't possible six months ago, she brought herself to a drawer that hadn't been touched in ages. And, after a moment of consideration tempered with silence, she slowly opened it.
"I think it's time, love," She whispered to the box - a small box that she had kept tucked away after all these years.
The ring was slowly, gently removed from her finger with far more strength than she'd anticipated. Though, if she'd learned anything within the last few months, it was that the world could still surprise you even when you feel you've seen it all.
After an indefinite amount of time, Elsie finally placed the ring tenderly back into the box. No tears emerged at the action, no sighs of despair. When she had spoken of no longer being that farm girl anymore, a confession just a few weeks prior, she was being quite candid.
It's true that she would always hold love for Joe in her heart. That there wouldn't be a sadness or a touch of grief whenever she was reminded of him and what they had.
But it was time to return to life.
No matter what became of her future, she had to let this symbol of the past go.
_._
"Mr. Carson," It was highly unusual for Charle- for Mr. Carson to call her, let alone for him make such a strange request. Then again, this was quite the unusual situation. "Mr. Carson, please promise you'll stay in bed for another day. It's only the start of a new semester, not a new school year. I can update Mrs. Butte on the plans and inform the students of the announcements we've previously discussed."
"Mrs. Hughes, are you sure the stage isn't flooding?"
"Mr. Carson," It felt like she'd been repeating herself for the last hour, though the conversation had only been a few minutes. "I'm standing on the stage right now. Everything is as it should be. The only thing that's wrong is that you are currently not resting."
He doesn't immediately respond to this, doesn't huff out a denial or protest at the very idea of rest. And while that lack of obstinacy does please her, it also tells her just how serious this "little flu" was. So, after she gave him another minute, Elsie took his silence as her cue to hang up.
"Mr. Carson, I will be dropping by later to check in on you. But, before anything else, promise me you'll have a proper lie down and actually rest. That you'll not spend the next several hours worrying about things here, when I- when we have it all well in hand." She hoped that he wouldn't think her rude when she didn't originally include Mrs. Butte in managing things here.
She stood there, waiting for a response in an auditorium still amazed her every time she came in. An auditorium that had stolen her breath the first second she'd entered, also stealing her heart away not long after.
Still, that amazement did not overtake the frustrated worry she felt about her colleague - the same man who had always tried to shoo her away from mere drizzle for her health - acting like the pot calling the kettle black.
Fortunately, even obstinate pots can eventually see reason.
"I promise."
She didn't sigh aloud in relief. But she certainly smiled.
"You promise what, Mr. Carson?" She could hear a gruff huff of disdain at this, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"I promise I'll have a 'proper lie down and actually rest'. That I will refrain from spending the day worrying about things here when you - when you and Mrs. Butte have things 'well in hand'."
Now, she outright grinned. For once, the pot was not calling the kettle black.
Wait till Beryl heard about this.
"I'm holding you to that, Mr. Carson." Elsie looked back at the stage, thinking she's heard something. "Now, I've got to go. Bye for the moment."
They both hung up, and she waited another moment on the stage - closing her eyes so as to hear everything a bit better. There's the eerie silence that accompanies any performance setting that's empty, a faint rumbling of something - probably the pipes - and that's really it.
When it's clear it was only her imagination, Elsie allowed a sigh to emit.
That silly man almost had me convinced that something was wrong, Is the bemused thought that accompanies her as she stepped out of the auditorium and back into the chattering hallways.
But, no matter. If a stage was flooding, it was only in his dreams.
_._
"Oh, Mrs. Hughes!" Cora Crawley was on a few missions today and one of her targets was currently in sight. Suffice to say, the woman wouldn't be letting the choir teacher go quite so easily. "Have you seen Mr. Carson at all?"
Elsie had just made it to the entrance of the stairwell, her back to Cora as she readied herself for whatever else the woman had to say.
"I'm afraid that Mr. Carson fell ill two nights ago, Mrs. Crawley," When she finally turned around to face her main boss, she's very professional and respectful - even as she's getting the feeling that this will be a very long day. "And he's unfortunately unable to teach today."
"But, not unwilling, I'm sure." The administrator dryly remarked, garnering a faint chuckle from Elsie.
"No, Mrs. Crawley, not unwilling in the slightest." They shared a look, breaking away from the protocols of teacher-admin interactions for a second or two to poke fun at the situation.
"In that case, please refrain from mentioning he has a few emails from me. I do not require his correspondence just yet." Cora smiled once more, her amusement growing as she noticed faint signs of relief in the choir teacher.
"I'll be sure to do as such, Mrs. Crawley. Was there anything else you wanted me to know?"
"Only that I'm so very thrilled to hearing what the choirs have in store next." Elsie nodded at this, taking the dismissal as a reason to return back to the stairwell. "Oh, and when you see him next do let him know that we all wish him a speedy recovery!"
"Of course, Mrs. Crawley." Came the warm response as the woman started her trek up the stairs. Though, even while responding, the choir teacher had already mentally left the conversation: she was now going over the day's classes, announcements, and learning material.
It was, of course, the fact that she was in such deep thought that Elsie missed something within the conversation. By concentrating on the future, she didn't realize the implication behind Cora's statement. The implication that the Elsie would be seeing Mr. Carson much sooner than any the administrators.
She also didn't realize that she had unintentionally encouraged such an implication to grow with her response.
"Isn't it wonderful to have such a caring environment at Downton?" Cora would later remark to Isobel, her mind still thinking about the two choir teachers.
"I'm sure I could agree, if I had any idea as to what it is you're referring to." Isobel would eventually reply, more than a little concern for her fellow administrator. After all, Cora would be mentioning this right as Isobel would be watching the coffee machine sputter to a halt for the fifth time that year.
That, in Isobel's book, did not make for 'such a caring environment'.
_._
"So, you're Mrs. Hughes then?" It's the first words she receives from Emma Butte and, though nothing unkind was said, there was something in that tone that Elsie didn't necessarily care for.
"That would be correct. Mrs. Butte, I take it?" It wasn't the smoothest response, but she was already thrown off-guard by the morning in general. The woman in question nodded, gesturing to her lanyard - the same lanyard that Elsie hadn't been paying attention to.
"I take it you're looking forward to staying on, then?" Elsie met her colleague's eyes squarely, feeling like this were a test of sorts.
"That is correct, yes." She doesn't inform the woman that helping Downton's choirs has been one of the only things she's been looking forward to as of late. That and cultivating her friendship with Downton's choir director as much as she can.
Of course, she doesn't elaborate either points though. There's something that tells Elsie that she's better off not mentioning any of that just yet, if ever.
"Oh, that I'm sure." The woman said with another hint of something not quite unkind but not quite pleasant. But, it's still early days and everyone's always off when it's the first day back. "Well, in that case, you can help the choirs by calling up Mr. Carson and asking what his priorities of the day are - seeing as how term is just starting. While we have had discussions this break, I'm sure you're aware of Charles's desire for perfect structure, whether he's here or not"
"Actually, I just got off the phone with Mr. Carson a few minutes ago." Even though that probably wasn't the wisest admission, they only had seven minutes before class started. And, Elsie did not want to ring up her friend anytime soon unless it were absolutely vital.
"Did you now?"
"Yes, I did."
There's another pause that Elsie doesn't quite like, but can't fully explain. What with the concern about Mr. Carson, the desire to make sure this first impression goes decently, making sure the choirs begin to delve into the future-
"And what were his requests?" Luckily, Elsie is quite the professional. Even when lost in her concerns, she could remain quite level-headed and poised.
"For today, you are to take over his normal responsibilities - the Beginning Male Choir and Advanced Mixed."
"Which leaves you with Bel Canto and Beginner's."
Elsie nodded, thinking aloud as she responded.
"And the a cappella choir. But there's no need to concern yourself about them." Mrs. Butte managed to not quite do a double-take at this, but her surprise was still imminent.
"The what choir?"
"The a cappella choir. Seeing as how it's a Monday, we will be rehearsing after school today."
"Oh, I see." For a moment, Mrs. Butte's tone reminded Elsie of Sarah O'Brien's. But, now was not the time nor the place to make such a remark. "And is the a cappella choir a choir that Mr. Carson erected?"
Elsie Hughes, Came the stern thought that kept her face straight after hearing a question that just so happened to be phrased… in a fascinating manner. You will not snicker or snort like some sixteen year old. You are a professional who will not chortle at the terrible word-choice of another colleague.
"No. I was the one who erect- it was my idea." She almost lost her ability to maintain absolute decorum at the terribly childish implication. "One that was only brought forth at the request of the students, of course."
Mrs. Butte seemed to hold an opinion on that comment, but her face didn't give any sort of real reaction to read from. Only a faint smile that seemed to grow.
In any case, there were now only three minutes before class started.
"I see."
It was a repetitive response. And, still, Elsie would take it over any further discussion any choirs recently "erected" within this fine institution.
_._
For Alfred Nugent, singing as a way to start the day had never been appealing. Starting off the school day by singing genuinely sounded more like a new form of torture and/or embarrassment.
That is, until he met Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. After that, singing became pretty cool. Once he'd started singing in the Bass Choir, that became obvious. They were both teachers who deserved absolute respect and absolutely respected not only their subject but also their students.
So, it was with a bit of pep to his step that Alfred traversed up to the second fourth floor. A bit of a pep that was sped up by the realization that he was a few minutes late to class already.
Fortunately, his height gave an advantage when it came to running up the remaining steps.
Unfortunately, by the time he got to 402 the door was on its way to being shut.
"Mrs. Hughes!" He cried out to the woman now closing the door on his face. But a second glance showed that -
"I am not Mrs. Hughes," The woman primly declared, certainly not interested in letting him enter the classroom now that he had made that mistake.
"Oh, I am quite sorry,"
"I am Mrs. Butte. And you are late. For that, you can come in through the other entrance - if it's not locked." And, with that, she shut the door on him.
Alfred blinked, definitely not expecting that first thing in the morning.
Where is Mrs. Hughes? For that matter, where is Mr. Carson?
Luckily, just because he was late didn't mean he was out of luck.
"Alfred? What are you doing outside?"
The very woman he had been hoping to see was walking towards him, carrying some extra copies of the syllabus for the upcoming semester.
"Oh, Mrs. Hughes, am I glad to see you!" She raised an inquiring eyebrow at this, but he didn't explain. It didn't necessarily feel right to talk about Mrs. Butte's treatment of him - seeing as how he did make the mistakes of being late and not realizing who she was.
"Yes, well, we can't stay outside all day, now can we?" He smiled, relieved that she was now opening the door to the classroom and letting him in. While he probably should've gone through the other entrance like Mrs. Butte had requested, it probably wasn't that big of a deal.
Or, at least, that's what he hoped for.
But, seeing as how their entrance hardly took away from Mrs. Butte's speech to the Men's Ensemble - a lecture on the expectations for the semester now that she was back - there was hardly any real cause for concern.
At least, not for Alfred…
_._
Charles Carson reached for the mobile device one more time, feeling as though he should check in on the choirs once more. Rarely was he ever this incapacitated, and never did he feel this off-kilter.
But, there was just one problem.
"The only thing that's wrong is that you are currently not resting."
That phrase kept repeating itself whenever he dared to pick up the phone. Not only that, but if he did call her then she'd have proof he didn't uphold his promise.
And Charles Carson was a man who kept his promises.
So, here's hoping Mrs. Hughes would keep her promise about dropping by later. After all, the trade-off for resting was receiving the company of and an in-person report from the woman of the hour. He'd made this arrangement knowing that her presence would reassure him that all was well - regardless of what had actually transpired in his absence.
And, truly, he needed her presence in this moment.
For, no matter what Charles tried to do, all he could feel in his gut - other than the ridiculous flu that currently overtook his body - was that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
_._
"As many of you are undoubtedly aware," Mrs. Butte began her third speech for the day. "Whether Mr. Carson is absent or not, we will be working to be the best choir we can be."
Many in the Advanced Mixed Choir began to straighten up in their seats at this. Now, unfortunately, Mrs. Butte had sent Elsie to third floor in order to print out a few extra copies of syllabus for the semester - the syllabus that spelled out the spring-only events, choir expectations about said events, and more.
This was unfortunate for many reasons, the key reason being that Emma Butte was now going to speak to the choir as she felt fit.
"So, if you're going to make a mistake, now's the time. The next two weeks are your last chances to be wrong, to screw up, to do whatever you'd like to call it. Because if you've expected our standards to lower in my absence, you are mistaken." Her smile turned sharklike at this, the gleam in her eyes serving to reinforce the fact that she was not having a laugh or some silly equivalent.
Straightening spines stiffened in response.
"Make no mistake - I will know if you are ruining the perfection this choir can reach. And, if you cannot maintain that level of excellency, you will not be allowed to bring this choir down. You are members of the Advanced Mixed Choir - not one of those quaint beginner ensembles. And, I'm sure Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson will be in perfect agreement with me when I say that you will either perform accordingly or you will be replaced."
When the door next opened, a few minutes after Mrs. Butte wrapped up her little speech, Elsie was surprised to feel a change in atmosphere.
"Ah, Mrs. Hughes!" Emma cordially greeted her upon arrival, taking her attention away from noticing the tension. "Would you care to have the honor of informing the students of the competitions?"
She nodded in response, turning back to the students with ease.
"As I'm sure you already know, we will be competing in a choir competition come late March. And, as I'm sure many of you are familiar with, there will also be a solo competition around that same time. If you are interested in performing a solo, know that I will be the one in charge of it and we would be working either during lunch periods, after school, or for some of this class period."
Tension melted at this, tension that Elsie could only attribute to first day nerves - though, her gut feeling was whispering something else. Still, there wasn't time to give it any proper thought.
"Therefore, if you're interested in a solo, please drop by either during your lunch period or after-school to let me know. You have until the end of next week to inform me. And, as always," She spared a glance at Thomas before returning her gaze to overlooking them as a whole. "The a cappella choir will continue after-school rehearsals every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Any newcomers are welcomed as well as returning students."
This coaxed a few more smiles.
"Now, since those are all the current announcements,"
"But, Mrs. Hughes, what about Carnegie?" Emma interrupted, causing several heads to do a double-take.
What exactly did Mrs. Butte mean when she spoke of "Carnegie"?
"What Mrs. Butte is referring to is something that has not been confirmed yet." And something Elsie didn't want to even mention until Mr. Carson returned. "But, we may have the opportunity of traveling to Carnegie Hall - yes, the Carnegie Hall that resides in the States - right after our concert. A choir organization will be hosting an international youth festival in May, having been inspired by the "World Choral Festival" this last October.
"While we have the opportunity to register, we have not officially secured funding from the school to participate. Therefore, while it is something to keep in mind, there is no guarantee that we will be able to go." The choir teacher continued, able to withhold her frustration at the fact that about thirty students were now glowing with excitement at an idea that couldn't be promised. "I will be happy to answer questions after class. But, I do believe Mr. Carson wanted us to start working on 'Set Me As A Seal' today."
"An excellent piece to start with," Emma noted, walking over to where Mr. Carson normally stood. "If you would be so kind as to pass that out before you return to the piano."
Elsie paused, not necessarily liking how that was phrased. But, there wasn't any real reason to dilly-dally, so she grabbed the stack of music sheets and began to promptly hand it out.
"Now, I'm sure Mr. Carson will be happy to work on context and stage-presence when he returns. I, on the other hand, am more interested in perfecting these notes."
"Of course," Elsie couldn't help but chime in, not wanting the students to dismiss those parts of a performance. "You certainly do not have to wait for Mr. Carson to return to start researching the song and looking into the purpose behind its composition."
"Quite right. However, for today's purpose, our attention is to be on practicing our sight-singing and perfecting the rhythms."
Elsie paused once more in her passing out the music, surprised that this was the level of work her colleague was expecting from the start. Even Charles was a bit more lenient when it came to the first day of school from what she remembered.
Though, with two competitions and a concert only a little ways away, Elsie could only suppose that this was the normal mentality for the spring semester. Or, at least, this was Emma's mentality when it came to preparing the choir for their competition.
Little did she know, this was merely her colleague's mentality for all semesters.
_._
Several class periods later, the final bell of the school day was ringing, signaling that it was almost time for her favorite rehearsal of the day.
"Have a lovely first rehearsal, Mrs. Hughes," Mrs. Butte sweetly spoke, already heading towards the exit. "I look forward to seeing what comes of this semester."
"You as well, Mrs. Butte."
The woman nodded before closing the door and beginning to exit out of the building.
Elsie sighed the second the door was shut. That wasn't to say that she needed to sigh because Emma Butte had struck her as a terrible person or some equivalent. It was just taking longer to adjust to her colleague. She could only supposed that she'd gotten too used to working with only with Charles, and that was making it difficult to work as well with Emma.
But it's not fair to judge someone when you've only just met them. And she's going to be late to her first rehearsal if she fixates on the matter. So, it's with a feeling of renewed vigor that Elsie lets go of this pondering, packs up for the day and brings her purse alongside with the first a cappella song of the semester over to 403.
And upon seeing an even larger than normal crowd waiting for her, she couldn't help but beam with pleasure, forgetting all about Emma Butte.
This, after all, was what was truly important.
_._
As Elsie finally stepped up to a door she'd only recently become acquainted with, she couldn't resist smiling at the sight. Even though she was hoping for Charles to be sound asleep and resting, she knew reality would probably be quite different. And, interestingly enough, thinking that only made the exhaustion of the day slide off her shoulders and fade away.
She knocked briskly on the door, noting that it only took a quarter a minute for it be opened by her friend. The smile faded quickly at the sight of her friend looking so worn out - his normally immaculate appearance was quite disheveled in more ways than she could count.
"Mrs. Hughes, is it that time already?"
"All rehearsals have finished for the day, yes." He let her into the humble abode and, much to her growing frustration, she saw that his laptop was opened and showing multiple unread emails.
"Mr. Carson," She began to speak, tired of his continuing to ignore his health needs. But her irritation was quieted when he placed a hand on her shoulder so as to explain the situation - unintentionally shocking her into silence with the physical contact.
It seemed his medication was unintentionally removing some layers of propriety that had once threaded their relationship together.
Fortunately, he was just as oblivious to her shock as he was to the effects of his medicine.
"I only just opened it a few minutes ago - I promise I stayed in bed all day." His voice was a little hoarse from the lack of use, and while she knew he wasn't lying to her she did take note of his word choice.
"You promised me you'd rest." She said, resisting the urge to close the laptop case for him. Normally, she wouldn't be treating any friend as such. After all, Elsie knew the irritation that came from being mother-henned. But, Charles really looked quite awful and in desperate need of rest. And going over emails, handling correspondences, all that wouldn't give his body the break it needed.
"I know I promised." He frowned at her frustration, still weary enough that it didn't occur to him that she might be worried for his health. "And I did spend a few hours not worrying about anything, thanks to that cold medicine you gave me."
"Yes, well, the only way you'll get better is by not opening that thing and actually giving yourself a chance to rest!" Once it's been snapped, she wants to take it back immediately. Impulsive retorts wouldn't get them anywhere, even if it came from a place of understandable concern.
"You're right."
The admission took some of the fight out of her. But, she couldn't let the matter rest just yet.
"Charles, I'm not going to make you any sort of deal or treat you like a child when it comes to taking care of yourself," Heaven knows she's had enough of those friendships herself. "I am, however, going to ask that you kindly refrain from forcing yourself to do more than you're currently capable of.
"And I'm also going to request that you let others help. That you tell someone so that you're not suffering alone. It doesn't have to be me that you talk to," She did want it to be her. But if talking to Mrs. Butte or someone else is what he felt he needed to do, then she'd accept that. "But, I am going to ask you to consider mentioning this to someone the next time it happens. That way you can receive the help you need."
Because she did not ever again want to discover he was sick only because he accidentally called her in the middle of the night - overtaken by a fever-induced delirium and under the impression she was some woman named Alice, among other things. Luckily, that moment was now in the past. And it certainly didn't have to repeat itself if her friend decided to not be foolishly stubborn about his well-being!
Charles took in her request silently, offering no clear sort of response. Though, after a moment of thought, he did start to walk away.
Elsie closed her eyes, hoping that he wasn't about to send her away because she overstepped the boundary lines with this. She hadn't meant to have done so - but in retrospect, it wouldn't surprise her if he now was about to send her on her way.
She waited a few seconds, anticipating some dismissing equivalent of "While I appreciate your candor, Mrs. Hughes, I do believe it's far more impertinent than the situation calls for."
All she heard was the closing of the laptop.
"Thank you."
She heard an abnormally raspy version of a chuckle emit at her remark, opening her eyes to see him faintly smiling at her.
"No, Mrs. Hughes," He found himself now reminded of another time in their relationship - the very first time he started to give a cappella music a real chance. "Thank you."
Her lips curved upwards at this, the memory reflected in his voice. And, as she guided him into sitting more comfortably - to just chat for a bit and eventually talk about the school day - she found that a little mist had taken hold of her eyes.
_._
Now, it was a fact of life that Elsie Hughes was typically correct about many things. And, in asking her friend to let go of his obligations for the rest of the day, she had indeed made the right decision in regards to his recovery.
For had he started scanning through his emails, he would have come across two of great interest. The first email, one Cora Crawley had sent, would have been fairly tolerable to absorb, if not a tad stressful: it was an announcement about a staff/student musical showcase in early April.
It was the second email, also sent by Cora, that would have been cryptic enough to create a tension that would certainly not help his current condition...
_._
Mr. Carson,
I would very much appreciate it if we could meet sometime within the next week. There is a matter of great importance involving the choirs that we need to discuss sooner than later.
Best,
Cora Crawley