Sarah clenched her fingers together nervously on the surface of the rough wooden table. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, threatening to make her vomit all over the floor of the grimy, dingy pub she was sat in. Her eyes darted through the foggy darkness of the room, the sound of rain thundering down outside sending a chill down her spine. She lowered her gaze slightly, causing the rim of her hat to shield the top half of her face from any unwelcome pairs of eyes. The pub was mostly empty, but a couple of drunken oafs were sat here and there, hidden in the shadows. The smoke of their cigarettes lingered in the air, and as Sarah inhaled, her fingers twitched. Damn, she could do with her own cigarette right now... Perhaps it would help the painful beating of her heart.
The room suddenly lightened a touch for a second as the door to the pub was pushed gently open. The person behind the now open door couldn't of stood out more if they tried. Sarah's shadowed eyes fell on them, and she was certain her heart was going to just burst out of her all over the scrubbed up table. She clenched her hands tighter together, her knuckles turning white with the pressure. The person closed the door silently behind them, a fine silk dress billowing around a pair of long, elegant legs. The barkeeper glanced up at her, pausing for a second to fully take in the sight before him.
The woman stood, her pale, smooth skin shining through the gloomy fog of the pub like a star in the cloudy night sky. Her fine coat was slightly wet from the rain, but apart from that, she looked like a china doll. Her face was just slightly hidden beneath her fine hat. Sarah dropped her gaze to her hands, her eyes burning with the overwhelming squirming of her stomach. She swallowed hard before forcing her head upwards again. The woman turned at that exact moment, and Sarah's breath caught in her throat as a pair of magnificently blue eyes bore into her. The air in the room seemed to vanish, and Sarah suddenly became very hot. The woman made her way toward the table, and almost mechanically, Sarah's legs pushed her to her feet as the woman pulled out a chair opposite her. The habits of her career in service were still fresh in her brain. The woman sat down, and Sarah followed suit, her gaze dropping to her knees. She could feel her old mistresses gaze raking over her, seeking out the usually so cold eyes hidden below the shadow of her old, tattered hat.
"Good afternoon, Sarah." She kept her voice low, but the American tones caused the hairs on the back of Sarah's neck to bristle. Her eyes burned harder as a thousand memories of another lifetime flashed in front of her. How she missed that daft American accent...
"Aren't you going to even look at me?" Cora all but whispered, and Sarah swallowed hard again. She felt foolish and raw, and she knew if she looked at Cora for too long, she would be unable to fight the pressure of tears threatening to overflow from her eyes. She took a steadying breath, and raised her head just slightly so she could meet Cora's gaze.
Almost instantly, she wished she hadn't. Cora's neutral face suddenly shone with shock as her eyes fell onto Sarah's face. Sarah fought to hold her gaze , but it fell again to her knees. Her throat clenched over, Cora's face burned into her mind.
"What happened?"
Sarah shook her head, determined that she wouldn't break in front of this woman.
"I... I had an accident. I... fell in the street, right on my face," She let out a fake, hollow laugh, hoping it was enough to smooth her explanation over. "Silly, I know, I wasn't paying attention-"
"Honestly, Sarah!" Cora shot, shifting so her chair was closer to the edge of the table and so she could study Sarah's bruised face more closely. "The floor did this to you? Do you expect me to believe that?"
Sarah flinched at Cora's tone, her head feeling heavier and heavier with every second. She said nothing more, allowing herself to steal another tiny glance at Cora, who was now closer, almost leaning right over the table.
"Tell me." Sarah felt a gentle, gloved hand press against her own. She almost automatically pulled back, but as she looked up again, Cora's pleading, hurt face stared back at her, and she felt her stomach squirm again. It pained her to see Cora is such away, even after all the time of them being separated. A great sadness fell over her at the familiarness of the feeling, and she had to fight the tears stinging her eyes. She looked into Cora's face, holding her gaze again.
"Tell me, Sarah... Everything, tell me everything."
She inhaled deeply, and twisted her hand so their fingers entwined on the wooden table. She gave a small, shuddering nod, trying to prepare herself. Cora wanted to know everything, right from the beginning. She felt Cora's fingers tighten around her own, and it sent a surge of warmth through her.
"It... started when I left for... India. With Lady Flintshire..."
"Stupid... bloody... WOMAN!" Sarah growled under her breath, shoving bundles of clothes into her case with every word. Stupid bloody woman indeed! Stupid bloody heat, stupid bloody India, stupid bloody Sarah O'Brien! Why on earth had she agreed to come to this wretched country with the awful woman in the first place? Adventure? Ha! She snorted to herself as she attacked the case once again, just about managing to fasten down the wiped her brow, trying to catch her breath and get some air to her face. Even the air in her lungs was hot, and she closed her eyes in desperation, tugging at the collar of her dress. Lady Flintshire could stuff her job up her jacksy! She was going home to Yorkshire, home to the cold, frosty air and the cooling rain. Home to the nice food and (slightly) understandable people. How could she have given Downton up for this? Given Cora up for this? She felt her temper rise in irritation. Sarah O'Brien, you stupid, stupid fool!
She grabbed the handle of her case and pulled it off the shabby bed that she'd occupied for the last couple of weeks. Half dragging it to the door, she gave the room a once over before slamming the door shut behind her. Sod this! She might be going home to nothing, but something surely would come up. And at least she'd be home, even if she was unemployed. She still had her parents house in Yorkshire, and it wasn't as though she were completely useless. She'd picked up skills over the years that were still needed. Anyway, she'd rather die of starvation in England than continue to live the life she'd chosen for herself in India with that woman!
A few weeks later she had successfully managed to return home to Yorkshire. She greeted the sodden English air with gratitude, but she couldn't help the pang of guilt in the back of her mind.
She kept her head lowered as she made her way up the grey street. Her parents had left her their home when they'd both passed, so thankfully she at least had somewhere to sleep. She hadn't been back to the house since she'd left for Downton as a housemaid all those years ago. It didn't even feel like part of her life anymore. So much had happened since she'd first left as a teenager. She paused at the gate, allowing her eyes to rake over the small, unkept house. She could almost see her mother hanging out the window, waving her father off as he set out for work. No... she couldn't think of that slid into the doorway, shoving the door slightly as it stuck.
The house was more or less the same. A couple of things were out of place, no doubt her brothers doing before he left for France during the war. If he'd of lived, she'd have given him a right clip round the ear for not tidying up after himself. Instead she breathed into the silence of the house, fixing a small ornament that had once belonged to her mother into its correct position. She placed her case down in the hallway and made her way into the living area where she collapsed into a chair at the table. Her head fell into her hands, her shoulders sinking with the weight of worry that was currently growing within her like ivy.
Now what? She was jobless with no references. She doubted very much that Cora... No, Lady Grantham, would provide her with one given her departure. And Susan Flintshire... She snorted, her mind rolling back around to Cora. Oh god. She rubbed her eyes roughly, hoping it would deter her attention from the stab of despair that was prodding at her stomach at the thought of the American woman. She could almost hear her soft voice in her mind. "Dear O'Brien... How sweet you are..."
Oh, stop it Sarah! She groaned into her hands, her eyes burning with tears. How could she be so stupid? She'd left her position at Cora's side, threw away years of, dare she think it, friendship and loyalty, sneaked off in the night like a snake, and for what? Susan Flintshire and a false promise of greater pastures over in India?
Her anger bubbled over inside of her, and her tears rolled down her face and onto the dusty table. How was she going to survive this? She had a tiny amount of money she'd saved over the years, but it wasn't much, and it wouldn't last very long. No income, no money, no food. No mother, no father, no brother, no friends. She could imagine Thomas' smug look if he were to ever see her in this state. He was the only person she'd even considered a actual... allie? No, friend. But their relationship had turned sour towards the end, and they'd both lashed out at each other in different ways. No, she had to face reality, and the reality of her situation was that she was completely alone.
A few days had passed since Sarah had arrived home, and as the house had been unlived in for a couple of years, she got to work trying to make it live able again. It was mostly cleaning, but she'd awoken one morning on the couch, exhausted from the previous nights work, to realise that the house was empty of food. Fixing her hair quickly, she made her way down to the local market where she'd seen her mother shop so many times for their food. It hadn't changed much. Grey and dull, but she didn't mind. There was a chill in the air that soothed her as she made her way through the bustling crowds of people. It didn't take long for her to pick up what she need, and she was soon making her way back through the crowd and along the road back to her street. As she marched passed an old dress making shop, something in the window caught her eye. They were looking for a seamstress... Not exactly ideal, but it was surely something. Oh dear, Sarah O'Brien. Look at what you've been reduced to!
She shook her head. What other choice did she have? She'd made her bed and now she had to live with the consequences. The gentle patter from the rain on her head rallied her, and she pushed open the shop door. It was quite silent, and the click of her heels seemed to be amplified throughout the whole store.
"Can I help you, madam?" came a small voice from behind the counter.
"I saw you advertisement in the window," she started, tentatively approaching the counter where a gentleman was leaning over a few pieces of paper. "For a seamstress? I was wondering if the position was still open..."
His eyes raked over her, pausing lastly at her face.
"Aye, the position is still open... Have you got any experience?"
"Over 20 years."
He stared at her, and she felt his eyes raking over her again.
"Who'd you work for?"
She paused for a second.
"I was Lady Grantham's ladys maid up in the Abbey." She locked her gaze with his, determined to put him right should he not believe her. No references though... If he wanted proof she was done for. Sarah could see him watching her over the counter, and her stomach twisted. He seemed to be weighing her up, studying her, and the silence between them was pressing.
"What's your name?" He stood up straight, a slightly frown covering his features.
"Sarah O'Brien."
He suddenly rapped his knuckles on the counter, a smile breaking out over his features.
"Sarah O'Brien? As in Bobby O'Brien's young lass?"
Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of her fathers name, and her eyes desperately raked over the mans face, searching for any sign of familiarity.
"Bernard," he started for her. "Bernard Williams, from down the road... I used to 'ang about with your young Bobby." Ah yes, there he was in her mind. Her older brothers friend... or one of them, at least.
"Oh god, Bernie, I didn't recognise you there! Sorry, it's been ages!" She flashed him a smile, glad to finally see a somewhat familiar face.
"It has! How've you been, lass? I'm sorry about your mam and da', I know it was a while ago now, but still... And your young Bobby, an' all. Broke my heart, when I heard. I was sent home early, took a bullet to me' shin. Your Bobby died a week later." He shook his head sadly, memories of Sarah's brother obviously surfacing. She didn't really know what to say, and the atmosphere between them turned awkward. "Sorry."
"It's alright... we weren't the only family to be affected." She shook her head slightly, trying not to think too much about her brother being strewn in pieces across some field in France. Change the subject, quick...
"So... What are you doing here?" she asked, motioning to the shop.
"I got a bit of money when me own mam passed away. Me dad was in the army most of 'is life, so there was a bit of a pension there for us. Our Michael and I decided to buy this place with the money." He gave a small shrug. "It's not doing too bad. We have a few good spenders come in every now and then. What are you doing back round 'ere, anyway? Last I heard you were working up there in the Abbey, like you said."
It was her turn to shrug as her mind quickly formulated an answer.
"I... just reached the end of me tether with it all." she forced a laugh. "I just couldn't do it anymore."
"I don't know how you did it in the first place..." he seemed to be talking mostly to himself. "Working for the likes of them, all the airs and graces and that... No, I couldn't of done it, me. Good on you for getting out." She smiled lightly at him, again, unsure of what exactly to say.
"Well anyway... lucky for you I'm here, ay?" he said with a small chuckle, leaning over the counter again. He watched her for a second, the corners of his lips twisted into smile. "I'd be happy to give you a job 'ere... but on one condition. You let me take you out to dinner, Miss O'Brien."
Sarah drew breath as she paused with her story, her eyes still on her knees. She could feel Cora hanging onto every word she was saying, her eyes wide. Sarah had her undivided attention.
"A couple of weeks later..." She glanced quickly at Cora, her throat clenching again. It was such a strange feeling that was washing over her, a feeling she didn't quite understand. Was it dread? Or guilt? She couldn't bare to look at Cora's face, so she looked away again as she spread her left hand on the table so Cora could see the simple band around her ring finger. "We got married."
She heard Cora gasp slightly, and she could almost feel the shock radiating from her.
"You got... married?" she whispered, disbelief littering her tone.
"Yes," Sarah croaked, still not meeting Cora's eye. "I... I was alone, I had nothing or no one. He reminded me of better times, he could tell me stories about my brother and my mam and my dad, he helped me forget the mess I was in!" She could feel a tear rolling for her cheek, and she pulled her hand free of Cora's grasp, furiously wiping it away and flinching as her hand brushed against the bruised skin around her eye. "I had to if I wanted to keep the job in the dress makers. I had nothing else."
"You had me, Sarah. You could have come to me!"
"No, no I couldn't. The way I left you, like a thief in the night, like the snake I am! I couldn't have come to you... I would never have expected you do anything for me ever again, and I still don't."
"Sarah, you coul-"
"Please! Please don't be kind to me... God knows I don't deserve it. I left you... I left you for Susan bloody Flintshire!" The tears were rolling down her cheek now, and she put her hands over her face in an attempt to save herself some dignity. Cora sat in silence, watching the once pillar-strong woman crumble before her eyes.
"Did he... Did he do this to you?" she asked quietly after a couple of painful minutes, and Sarah thought she heard a tremble in Cora's voice. She wiped at her cheeks again, furious with herself for slipping on her emotions in front the Countess. Her mouth was dry, and her throat clenched painfully. Sarah stole another glance at Cora, whose own eyes had reddened.
"He... he was nice, at first. Charming... I had a job and a little bit of money coming in. He moved into me mams house after we got married, an he had the dress shop as well. Well... Turns out he didn't exactly own it completely. It were 'is brother Michael who had bought it, and he'd given Bernie a job there to keep him sober." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the ring around her eye thumping. "It didn't take long for me to realise that I'd made a big mistake..."
Sarah closed the gate behind her as he got home. It had been a long day in the shop, having to deal with a difficult woman going on about an order she'd placed a few weeks ago. Her head clanged painfully as she shut the front door, turning into the house and making her way into the living area. Bernard was sprawled on the couch, half asleep with an empty pint glass resting on his chest. Michael had returned from his business trip in London, and so Bernard had little to do but hang around the shop, doing small time jobs for his older brother. His behaviour had deteriorated dramatically, and Sarah found herself longing to be back in the dress shop, away from his drunken antics.
She turned her back on him, and instead made her way into the kitchen where she filled the kettle up and put it on the stove to heat. She prepared her cup, and sat down at the table while she waited for the water to boil.
Bernard was a means to an end, an option that prevented her from starving to death. With him she could work, and though he didn't really do much in the shop anymore, his brother still paid him a wage to drive around, delivering dresses and materials to customers. He spent a lot of his time in the pub, which Sarah actually preferred. She didn't love him, not at all. At first she'd liked him. He had been warm and friendly, reminding her of better days. He was a somewhat familiar face in a sea of grey confusion. Cora was gone forever, and Sarah doubted very much that she'd ever lay eyes on the American woman ever again. She doubted very much that this aching feeling of regret would ever leave her chest.
The kettle started to whistle on the stove, and she stood up to pour the boiling water in the cup. The whistling must have stirred Bernard, and appeared in the door day, leaning slightly on the door frame.
"You're back late," he grumbled, his bloodshot eyes squinting to focus on her. She tuned to face him, holding the cup in her hands.
"Oh I know, it was quite busy today. We didn't shut up shop until gone six." She offered him a small smile, hoping her answer was sufficient enough to send him back into the living area.
"Were you with 'im?"
"What?"
"Michael! Were you with Michael?"
"Well, he was in today, yes. He does own the shop, Bernie." She forced a laugh, watching him carefully as he took a step towards her.
"Don't get smart with me, woman! I know what he's like, if I ever find out that you an 'im-"
"Oh Bernie, don't be so stupid!"
"Stupid!?" He was shouting now, swaying slightly as he did so. "Stupid?" Considering how much he must have drunk, he moved so fast that Sarah didn't have time to react at all. The cup of tea went flying from her hand as he swiped at it. It shattered on the floor into tiny pieces and she gasped as the boiling hot water washed over her arm, stinging her skin painfully. She felt his hand enclose around the front of her dress, and she was almost lifted off her feet as he smashed her into the kitchen wall. Her breath caught in her throat as one hand grabbed her chin. His face was so close to hers, she could smell the ale on his breath as he snarled at her.
"You ever call me stupid..." He shook her violently against the wall, his grasp on her chin tightening as he leaned it. "If I ever catch you with him, or anyone... I'll break your fucking neck! Do you hear? I SAID DO YOU HEAR?!"
"Y-yes!" she gasped, nodding her head desperately. He pushed her head against the wall as he let go of his grip on her. He turned and staggered away back into the living room, leaving her stood against the wall, paralysed. Her breath was ragged and shaking, and she could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She did all she could to stop her trembling legs collapsing beneath her and turning into a terrified puddle on the floor. She tried to catch her breath again, bringing a shaking hand up to her face. Oh god, Sarah O'Brien... What have you got yourself into?
She hastily cleaned the shattered cup up before heading up to bed. She peered into the living area, where Bernard was, again, sprawled on the couch in a deep sleep. She breathed a sigh of relief before climbing the stairs, closing the door to the bedroom quietly. She looked over her arm where the boiling water had splashed on her, running a rough finger carefully across the reddened skin. It wasn't too bad, really, but she couldn't help but flinch as she dragged her dress over it as she changed for bed. She could feel her back an neck aching already... God help her in the morning. She crawled into the bed, pulling the sheets over her head and bringing her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes tight, the pillow damping with her tears. She shook gently, almost silently as her mind went over the night again and again. She'd always thought herself tougher than this, able to handle anything anybody threw at her. But the aggression Bernard had thrown at her had caught her by complete surprise. Never in her life had anybody attacked her in such a way, not even as a child play fighting in the street. Sarah's mind wandered as she started to succumb to sleep. Cora's face swam into her mind, and her soft American voice filled her ears. "Everything will look better in the morning..." For now, that's was the only advice she could think of taking. Her mind fogged over, and she fell asleep.
She quietly made her way down the stairs the next morning, praying she could slip out of the front door unnoticed. She was correct in thinking that her neck and back would be crippling her in the morning. She flinched with every step, doing all that was in her power to walk normally.
"Sarah?" She tensed as Bernard's voice came from the kitchen door. She turned to face him, nervously placing a hand on the wall as he approached her. "Listen love.. I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what happened... I just had a few drinks and, you know.. I just love you so much, I'm terrified of someone ruining it for us." He placed his hands gently on each of Sarah's shoulders, and she almost cried out at the touch. She bit down on her tongue. "I'm sorry love." He pulled her into his chest in an embrace, and she closed her eyes as his hand snaked up her back and rested on the back of her neck. "I do love you, you know... and I know you love me, so we'll get over this, won't we?" He paused, and she nodded her head against his chest to reassure him.
"Yeah, course we will..."
She felt him relax against her, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace.
"Good. We've got no choice but to get over it, really." He laughed gently against her head. "It's not like you could go anywhere else, is it?" His tone was light, but a shiver ran down her spine at the words. She could feel her eyes burning again, so she gently pressed a hand to his chest.
"We'll be alright.. I 'ave to go, else I'll be late." He slid his arms from her waist, and as she turned to the door, he suddenly grabbed at her wrist, pulling her back.
"Don't I get a goodbye kiss, then?" She forced a small smile, trying to keep her face as truthful as possible. She lent in to him, and he pressed their lips together roughly. She felt her stomach churn as she tried to make the kiss as real as possible, keeping her eyes on him should he suddenly lash out again. She pulled back and she dropped her gaze quickly.
"Right, I'm off..." She grabbed the door handle desperately, and as she stepped into the street, she glanced back to make sure he wasn't watching her before she breathed a sigh of relief. She half ran down the street, backing into a small alley way and leaning against the cobbled road. She gasped for air desperately, willing the nausea to vanish. Come on, Sarah... She placed a hand over her stomach, but it was no use. She vomited down the wall, putting a trembling hand to her fod. She spat the last of it out, still breathing deeply. Oh god. The last few months has seen her life spiral downwards into this darkness she seemed to be drowning in. There was no way out, no hand of help, no light at the end of the tunnel. She was trapped in this hole with Bernard forever.
She wiped her face down, using the reflection of a window to fix herself, and made her way to the shop, taking her usual post behind the counter and tending to a few jobs that needed finishing. She worked in silence until about noon, only looking up when the bell of the door rang out as two people entered.
"We've used this shop a couple of times in the past, mostly when we were young girls. We tend to stick to the one in Ripon, but I suppose a bit of variety can't hurt us."
"No, m'lady."
Oh god. She knew those voices... Before she had time to dart into the back, the faces of Lady Mary and Anna were looking over the counter at her.
"Miss O'Brien?" Anna asked, a look of shock on her features.
"O'Brien? What are you doing in here?"
Sarah forced a tiny smile on her face, clenching her fists behind the counter. She couldn't deal with this right now... Her min was fogged with the events of last night, and with Bernard's words this morning. Coming face to face with Anna and Lady Mary would surely send her over the edge. She looked between them, the two woman staring at her is disbelief.
"I... I work here." she said pathetically, wanting the floor to just suck her in. She saw a small frown crease both of their faces. "I... Things didn't work out with Lady Flintshire, too hot over there, food wasn't too nice either." She forced another smile of her face, her jaw aching from where Bernard had grabbed her face the night before. "Can... can I help you with anything?"
"Does Mama know you're here?" Lady Mary asked, completely ignoring the shook her head gently.
"What happened to your face?" Damn Anna, trust her to noise the smallest of details! She shook her head again, rolling her shoulders(but immediately regretting doing so).
"Nothing."
"Does Thomas know you're here?"
"No."
She knew she as being standoffish, but she couldn't help it. She just wanted them both to go away and cease with their questions.
"Ah, Lady Mary!" Michael suddenly appeared from the back, offering Mary a small bow. "We haven't seen you in here for a while! How can I be of assistance to you, m'lady?"
Sarah took the opportunity to slip away, but she could feel both sets of eyes watching her as she went. She tried not to imagine all the faces at Downton smirking smugly when the two woman returned with their tale of her working in the dress shop, face marked and unable to string a sensible sentence together.
"Mary told me that she'd seen you..." Cora muttered across the table. Her arm was still extended towards Sarah, her hand open and inviting. "I didn't believe her at first... She said you seemed strange... distant, even. This explains why, then?"
Sarah nodded, glancing at Cora's hand on the table.
"Anna must've told Thomas... I was in the market the next morning, and there he was. We just stared at each other for ages, I didn't know what to say to him. We left on such bad terms... I didn't expect to ever see or talk to him again." She dared a glance at Cora's face, her voice shaking slightly as she went on. "We got talking, and... Well, he noticed my f-face instantly, he never misses anything." The corners of her lips curled affectionately at the thought of him. "I told him I fell down the stairs the night before, he didn't believe me. He didn't push it, but I could just tell by his face. He had a few errands for Mr Carson in the village, so he gave me a quick hug and got off on his way."
She almost laughed at Cora's face, which had twisted in confusion. Obviously the thought of Thomas showing any kind of affection to anyone was a little hard to get her head around.
"But he saw us... Bernard. He doesn't know who Thomas is, but he saw us... I didn't know until that night..."
Sarah pottered about in the kitchen, preparing dinner for herself and Bernard. He hadn't come home yet, presumably he was either in the pub, or still out delivering for Michael. Sarah still felt shaken. The memories from last night were still fresh in her mind, and the shocked faces of Lady Mary and Anna kept drifting in front of her. A pang of worry shot through her at the thought of her being the topic of discussion at Downton. What if Lady Mary told Cora? No doubt she would... Perhaps Thomas would have her back downstairs. Even so, she could see Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson sharing dark glances across the table. Oh, so! She didn't much care for their opinion of her right now. She was more troubled with the thought of Cora's angry face, pulling a face of disgust when Mary told her...
She heard the front door open, and turned to see Bernard coming towards her in the hall.
"Hello, love," she said, turning quickly back to the stove and tending to soup in one of the pans. He said nothing for a few moments, and she swallowed hard. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. She stole a quick glance at him over her shoulder. He was standing in the doorway, his face etched with tension.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, leaving the pan and turning her attention on him fully.
"Where did you go this afternoon?" he asked, his face unchanging. Sarah swallowed again, nervously taking a towel in her hand and playing with the corner.
"Only into the village to get tonight's dinner. Look, I've made soup for you-"
"Alone, were you?"
"Yes, course I was."
He took a step closer to her.
"So who was the fella all over you outside the butchers? The only with the black hair?"
"What?"
"Who was the fella all over you outside the butchers?" he repeated, the temperature of the room suddenly dropping.
"Oh... I... I used to work with him, up in the Abbey-"
He made a grab for her, his fingers curling into her hair.
"Bernie! Get off me-!"
"What did I bloody tell you!? Ay!? If it's not me fucking brother, it's someone you used to work with, is that how it is!?" He pulled on her hair hard, and she clawed desperately at his hands, fighting against his grip. She could smell the stale ale on his breath as he lowered his head to her face, his teeth barred in anger. "What did I say to you last time?" he snarled, his grip on her hair tightening. "I told you if I ever caught you with anyone-" He pulled again, and she cried out. "-I'd break your fucking neck! Do you remember me saying that? DO YOU?!"
"Bernie, stop it, I swear! It was nothing, we were old friends, that's-"
He words were cut short as his fist came crashing into her cheek, and went flying onto the floor. She felt her breath leave her and her head swim, the pain causing her eyes to sting with tears. She tried to get up, but her head throbbed and she couldn't regain her balance. She heard him growl above her, and then his foot collided with her side, knocking the breath out of her again. She put her hands up desperately, but his foot continued to smash into her, colliding with her face. She could feel warm gooey liquid on her face as she tried to shield her face from the blows. There was a sudden shattering sound, and she heard pieces of glass fall a small distance from her.
"WHY DO YOU MAKE ME DO THIS!? WHY'D YOU 'AVE TO PISS ME OFF SO MUCH!?" He threw his fist into the door, and Sarah could hear the wood shattering. His boots echoed down the corridor, and the front door slammed shut as he left.
She couldn't help the shuddering of her whole body as she lay in a crumpled mess on the kitchen floor. The sobs escaped her freely and she closed her eyes, her whole body screaming in agony. Every intake of breath felt like a knife piercing her chest. She lifted a trembling hand to her face, thick red liquid dripping down her fingers. She cried out as she ran a finger across her nose, flinching in pain as she did so. There was a small puddle of blood where her face had been on the floor. She couldn't breath, she couldn't think. The only thing she knew was the awful pain throbbing right through her. Still shuddering from her sobs, she lowered her head back onto the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest and closing her eyes.
"Oh, Sarah..."
She was empty of tears, so Sarah simply sat, looking up to see Cora staring at her through watery eyes. The Countess flexed her hand and motioned to it, and Sarah lifted her own, allowing Cora to entwine their fingers tightly.
"You know the rest..." Sarah whispered. "I got up the next morning for work. Bernard wasn't there, I don't know where he stayed. I was walking down the street to the shoo, and you pulled up beside me in the car..."
"... and you insisted on meeting here." Cora ran a thumb over Sarah's knuckles. Her kittenish eyes raked over Sarah's battered face, lingering on the bruises around her eyes.
"In case he saw us... " Sarah's eyes darted around the dark pub nervously, but she felt Cora pull at her hand, drawing her attention back to her.
"You're not staying there, Sarah. You're coming back to Downton with me."
"I can't... The shop, the house-"
"You don't need either of them. I won't allow you to live with that man for a second longer. You're coming back to the Abbey with me, and you can return to your position as my ladys maid."
"But... What about the current one? Thomas said-"
"Don't you worry about that. You're going to pack your things now, and I'll wait in the car at the bottom of the street. You're not to return to him, Sarah."
Sarah stared at her, another batch of tears suddenly threatening to form around her eyes. They were not tears of pain or sadness though... How could Cora forgive her so easily? She had abandoned this woman for India, and here she was, offering to take Sarah back to Downton Abbey with her.
"But... I left you... Why are you doing this?"
Cora flashed her a warm smile, the same smile Sarah had missed so terribly, the same smile that she would never take for granted ever again.
"Because... You are my Sarah O'Brien." She squeezed Sarah's hand again. "Now come on, go and get your things."
