Disclaimer: The characters described in this story were created by and are the property of Kazuo Ishiguro. I'm not making any money out of this.
Just a short text describing how Stevens might react when he learns that Miss Kenton has given birth to a daughter.
Mrs Benn
She had a daughter.
Stevens was staring down at the letter in front of him. In Miss Kenton's elegant handwriting it informed him that Mr Thomas Benn and Mrs Sarah Benn were happy to announce the birth of their daughter, Catherine Mary.
She had a daughter. And he hadn't even known that she was pregnant.
All of a sudden he could not look at the all too familiar handwriting any longer. Instead, he got up from his desk and went to the window.
It was a warm spring day and the window was half open. Not far away he could see Doris striding down a path. Stevens furrowed his brow. Shouldn't she be busy in the laundry room? He would have to check on that.
There was a strange tightness in his chest. He ignored it. After all they had guests in the house, men of great standing, and there would be a grand dinner that night. He knew that his lordship counted on him and his staff to provide the best service imaginable, and of course he would do everything in his power not to disappoint him.
Yet somehow Stevens found it hard to focus his thoughts on his duties. The lack of sleep, probably. He had had troubles with that for some time now. And the last days had been trying.
She won't come back now.
He drew in a sharp breath. What a ridiculous idea. Truly, he must be more tired than he had thought. Of course she would not come back. She was no longer Miss Sarah Kenton, housekeeper of Darlington Hall. She was now Mrs Benn. Mrs Thomas Benn.
She might still have left him. But not now, not with a child.
Stevens looked down at his hands. The strange tightness in his chest was getting worse. He couldn't have a heart attack, could he? He had heard that one's left arm would be hurting in that case, and it felt perfectly all right. Perhaps it was only a bout of indigestion, after all lunch had been rather spicy.
He was happy for Miss Kenton, of course. After all that was what she wanted, wasn't it? Why she had left. A husband. A family.
All the things she didn't find here. Because you couldn't...
Stevens jerked his head up. Through the window he could still see Doris strolling around the grounds. He would have to speak to Mrs Morris. As housekeeper she should have a closer eye on the maids, he had thought that often over the last months. But unfortunately it seemed that her dedication to duty was lacking in some respects. The laundry was another example for this. Just yesterday he had found a sheet with a tiny hole. Miss Kenton would have never let that happen. And Mrs Morris's cocoa... He had tried it once, and declined ever after.
She just couldn't compare to Miss Kenton. No one could.
In a professional manner, of course. And she was no longer Miss Kenton now, but Mrs Benn.
Perhaps he should lie down a bit? But he didn't have the time for that, not with so much still to do before dinner. World politics might well be made under this roof, perhaps right now, and in his own small way he was a part of that.
Stevens was proud of this, of course. Glad to do his bit, even if it was only on a very small scale, grateful and happy. He was quite certain he was. Just at the moment he felt a little tired.
But he shouldn't let himself get distracted like this. After all it had been Miss Kenton's decision to leave. There had been nothing he could have done about it. Who was he to interfere with her life? With her affairs of the heart? If she wanted to trade her position as respected housekeeper of Darlington Hall for running Tom Benn's household – could he even provide her with one? – then it was not his business, was it? If it had been so easy for her to leave behind all those years of shared service, of professional battles fought and won, of the satisfying working relationship they had established, there was no reason for him to regret her leaving. No reason at all.
On the contrary, Miss Kenton's lack of professional conduct and distance over the last weeks of her stay had been rather worrying. It had become increasingly impossible to work with her, even to just be around her. Her confrontational demeanour had become so trying he had dreaded even the most routine conversations. Her behaviour had endangered the smooth running of the house, and therefore her departure had clearly been for the best. Had she not told him on that memorable evening when the Prime Minister had been a guest at Darlington Hall that one of her favourite pastimes with Mr Benn was to make fun of him? It made Stevens's blood boil even now to imagine them talking about him, mocking him.
And with Tom Benn of all people! He could still not understand what she saw in him. She was way out of his league, and Benn must be aware of it. The whole idea was preposterous. Benn wouldn't know how to handle her. After all Miss Kenton was the most obstinate woman Stevens had ever known. Opinionated and quarrelsome and infuriatingly defiant and...
And so full of life.
No, Tom Benn would never be able to handle her.
Well, he seems to be doing just fine, doesn't he?
A strange noise made Stevens start. It took him some seconds to realise that he himself had produced the strangled sigh.
Even after all those months it was just absurd to picture her together with Tom Benn. Running his household… Listening to him telling her about his day… Sharing her thoughts and suggestions with him... Smiling at him... Teasing him... Probably even making cocoa for him…
Doing all those things a wife does...
Stevens turned around abruptly. What was he doing staring out of the window for god only knew how long? There was work to do, after all. And all these things were in the past now and there was no use dwelling on what had happened over a year ago. On what one had done, or had not done. No use at all.
And yet there were still moments when he forgot that Miss Kenton was gone. Moments when he thought he heard her familiar steps coming down a hallway, or when he looked out of the windows to the park and thought he saw her slim figure walking in the distance. But of course he always immediately realised his mistake. She was gone, and he did not have time for these irritating tricks his mind insisted on playing on him.
Stevens shook his head, angry with himself. He had to focus on his work, Lord Darlington was counting on him. Miss Kenton – no, Mrs Benn – was no longer part of his life. This had been her decision alone, and it was most annoying that his thoughts kept circling around her like that. But it was because of the letter, of course, and the unexpected news it contained. And he was truly feeling a bit tired today.
He took up the letter, looked at it a few seconds and then put it away in the file with the rest of her correspondence. After that he straightened up, checked his appearance in the small mirror hidden on the inside of his wardrobe door, and left the room. He had neglected his duties long enough.
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