Present, Past – and Future?
This is a sequel to "If Love Were All" and the title is again taken from The Prisoner of Zenda. This is a product of a conversation I had with Mrs Danvers. I decided to set the story during the coronation in 1953 as a way to commemorate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.
The characters don't belong to me except for Amelia Tomlinson (secretary), Rose Moorsum (Jane's daughter-in-law) and Sarah Moorsum (granddaughter)
22 May 1953
London
It was less than two weeks before the Coronation and the streets of London were festooned with decorations, flags, buntings, pictures and twinkling lights to commemorate the day when the young queen Elizabeth II was to be crowned and in an unprecedented move, it was to be televised meaning that ordinary people for the first time could watch a thousand year old ritual that had been until 1937 only been seen by a privileged few.
Matthew Crawley, the 7th Earl of Grantham had bought a television set so that those who remained behind at Downton could watch the ceremony. For the staff that had travelled with the earl and his countess, the rented house they were staying had been provided with a television so anyone who was at home would have the opportunity to see the coronation,
Amelia Tomlinson looked around the house while on her way out to run an errand. It was so different from the time when she arrived to work for the current earl's predecessor. She had only been twenty one years old then and had marvelled at the grandeur of Downton Abbey as well as the imposing Grantham House in London. Little did she know that in less than twenty years everything would change and the world that she had entered would be gone forever swept away by depression, war and social upheaval.
The previous earl had died in 1934 and there were massive death duties to be paid – the fine collection of Old Master paintings, the china set that the third earl acquired from Dresden, jewels, several valuable books and sculptures were sold or given to various museums in lieu of tax. Acres of land were also sold and it wasn't until 1948 when payment was completed. She remembered well the headaches that accompanied every dealing with the Treasury and the sales that took place in the Downton lawns or at auction houses in London.
Further problems arose after the war, Grantham House had been damaged beyond repair by Luftwaffe bombs so eventually the house itself was demolished and the land sold to a developer. More acres of land in Yorkshire were also sold and during the war, Downton itself housed a local school and a branch of MI6. The latter took over a whole wing of the Abbey meaning that everyone from the earl down to the cook and the pupils and their teachers were forbidden to go beyond a certain point. Mary, the countess complained that it was a travesty that she could not roam around her own house freely.
Finally in 1950, the earl decided to hand Downton over to the National Trust with the proviso that he and his family would continue to reside in one wing of the house. Words were exchanged between Mathew and Mary – she had grown up in the Abbey, the place meant a great deal to her and she was not so keen at the prospect of more tourists coming to the house. He explained patiently that it was no longer sustainable to run the house just like it was in her father's time with the maintenance and running costs already reaching thousands of pounds. In addition, Matthew already foresaw that the oldest son and heir Robert would have to pay crippling death duties when he died and handing over the Abbey would ensure that the amount paid would be minimised and less painful for his heirs.
So this is how Matthew, Mary and a small number of staff came to rent a small house in Belgravia for the Queen's coronation. The earl and his countess had never bothered to keep up any state in London during and after the war and were not sorry when Grantham House was finally demolished.
Amelia sighed as she caught a bus that would take her near Marylebone Road. So much had happened and the changes happening before the eyes had been so swift that if the sixth earl had been alive he wouldn't believe what had just happened. She checked the piece of paper in her hand then looked at the street sign – Marylebone Road. Right, she thought then made her way to number 28, looking for the right number amongst the row of Victorian houses.
"This is it," she said aloud to herself. The brass plate next to the doorbell read "F C MOORSUM" and for a moment, she hesitated. Would she be turned away? Or thought of as a saleswoman, a religious preacher or a party canvasser?
Amelia fished a leather box out of her coat. Inside was a diamond and platinum brooch in the shape of an eight pointed star together with a handwritten note for the late Earl of Grantham to a Jane Moorsum. She had discovered the brooch a month ago while compiling the sixth earl's papers. Her mind wandered back to the time when Anna first approached her with a letter for his Lordship and from then on she found herself passing letters between him and a mystery female correspondent for fourteen years, only to end with the earl's death.
It was only after talking to Anna that she found out the story – Jane Moorsum was a housemaid at Downton and left owing to some mysterious (in her view) circumstances. Only Anna Bates knew the real reason and Amelia was sworn to secrecy. There were hundreds of letters possibly thousands, Amelia thought but she had never done an inventory of the letters and how many there really were. Currently they were hidden in the archives; she had never dared tell the present earl and his countess of their existence and they had no idea that at this moment she was to meet the sixth earl's long time mystery correspondent for the first time.
Taking a deep breath, Amelia pressed the doorbell then waited. The door was opened by a slim blonde haired woman.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
Amelia suddenly felt nervous. "Uh…..um…..is Jane Moorsum in? My name is Amelia Tomlinson, I'm Lord Grantham's secretary."
"I'm Rose, Jane's daughter-in-law," the blonde woman smiled. "Do come in Miss Tomlinson and I'll let her know that you're here."
Rose led Amelia into the living room then asked her to sit and wait while she went to inform her mother-in-law of her visitor. Left alone, the secretary had a look around her surroundings, a simply furnished room but filled with mementoes yet neat as a pin. Her eyes fell upon a framed picture of a couple on their wedding day their faces happy at the prospect of a new beginning.
"Miss Tomlinson?"
Amelia hurriedly returned the frame on the mantelpiece and spun around to find a small white haired woman approaching her. For a moment, she felt like a giant and was tempted to slouch in order to compensate for the disparity in height.
"Yes, that's me," Amelia raised one hand.
"I'm Jane Moorsum," the older woman extended her hand. "Rose tells me that you want to see me."
Both women shook hands the Jane motioned for Amelia to sit next to her. An awkward silence followed, Amelia wasn't sure how to begin, and silently she was fretting about not preparing a script. Rose arrived with tea and the secretary breathed a sigh of relief, at least she had some more time to think of what to say.
"Thank you," Amelia smiled as she accepted a cup from Rose. Another awkward silence followed while Amelia bit her lower lip nervously.
"How are the earl and countess?" Jane asked.
"They're all right," Amelia nodded as she took a sip of her tea. Might as well get on with it, she thought. Putting down her cup, she took out the box then handed it to Jane.
"This is the reason why I'm here," Amelia began. "I believe the late earl wanted you to have this."
Jane accepted the box and opened it. She stared at the brooch for a long time then read the note that came with it. Amelia noticed that Jane was trying hard to fight back tears.
"Uh….is there anything wrong?" Amelia asked hesitantly.
"No, no," Jane shook her head then looked at the brooch again. "It's beautiful…..so beautiful."
Amelia smiled. "It is. I was tasked to pick that up from Garrards, I'm not in the habit of asking questions so imagine my shock when I found it in the archives, and it was with his papers."
They chatted for a while longer. Both women were happy to have finally met each other face to face, for Amelia it was a revelation to put a face to the woman behind the letters she was passing on to the sixth earl. She remembered how his face would light up when she handed him the letter then instructed her that he was not to be disturbed. She had always wondered about Jane Moorsum and felt that the relationship was far deeper than what letters and jewellery would suggest.
For her part, Jane found herself remembering one of Robert's letters to her when Anna had finally resigned to open a bed and breakfast in Leeds with her husband John, Robert had asked her send them care of Amelia: My darling, now that Anna has left Downton please send your letters directly to Miss Tomlinson. She will know what to do with them and we can rely on her discretion. And Robert was right, with Amelia's discretion, no-one ever suspected that the earl was exchanging letters with her – the secretary saw to that.
Once Amelia had gone, Jane clutched the ring hanging from a chain around her neck. So many memories came flooding back to her, each one as vivid as if was only yesterday.
xxxxxxx
She could still remember that day in 1920 when Robert came to see her the day before she returned to Harewood – his voice, the feel of his lips on hers and his fingers stroking her skin. She realised early on that it would be futile for them to be together and their predicament reminded her of one of Freddie's favourite books, The Prisoner of Zenda. Like Princess Flavia and Rudolf Rassendyl, they were condemned to love each other in secret – communicating only through letters, long ones where they would tell each other everything, no holding back, no secrets.
There were rare meetings and Jane cherished each and every one of them just as she treasured his letters. She blushed as the memory of those reunions, how they talked, laughed, held hands and kissed. She also remembered all too well their reluctance to part once that day of bliss was over. How she loved him them and how she will love him for all eternity.
xxxxxxxx
2 June 1953
Jane looked at her reflection at the mirror and she still couldn't quite believe that a former maid like her would be attending the Queen's coronation. All thanks to Freddie. He was a Foreign Office mandarin who had been seconded to Buckingham Palace to help organise the ceremony and the billeting of foreign dignitaries as well Commonwealth heads of state. Just two days ago, the Queen had honoured the men and women who had worked tirelessly to organise her coronation and Jane looked on with pride as Freddie received the CVO from Her Majesty.
Her gaze fell wistfully on the box in front of her and as she opened it, inside contained some letters from Robert and his photograph. He's always been proud of Freddie, she thought. In his letters, he would always ask after her son and followed his progress all the way from Ripon Grammar to Oxford and the Foreign Office. How Robert would have been proud of Freddie's war record – a DSO, a MC for bravery and being mentioned in dispatches.
"Are you ready Mama?" called out Freddie.
"Just a minute," Jane called back. She snapped the box shut, straightened the beaded bandeau atop her head then pinned the brooch Robert had given her in front of her dress. In the sunlight, the diamonds sparkled and glinted while forming a pattern almost as if he was watching over her. Finally she picked up her gloves and her clutch bag which she had filled with bars of Cadbury Dairy Milk to tide them over during the five hour long ceremony.
"You look beautiful Grandmama," Sarah called out as Jane descended the stairs.
"Thank you dear," she smiled and beamed at Freddie looking distinguished in his RAF uniform with his war medals across his chest, the CVO around his neck and the CMG star pinned on his right breast. When Rose finally came down the stairs, the trio clambered into a taxi that would take them to Westminster Abbey.
Once inside there was long wait before the royal procession began and finally there was a hush as the Queen entered the Abbey, her train borne by six maids of honour. Jane closed her eyes as the first strains of Parry wafted through the congregation:
I was glad when they said unto me, we will go into the house of the Lord.
Our feet shall stand in thy gates, O Jerusalem
Jerusalem is builded as a city that is at unity in itself.
O pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee.
Peace be within thy walls, and plenteousness within thy palaces, and plenteousness within thy palaces!
Jane glanced over to where the peers were seated and caught sight of Matthew Crawley, older but still handsome in his earl's robes. For a moment she thought that she saw Robert amongst them smiling at her. As the assembled crowd rose for the anointing, she closed her eyes again; listening to Robert's words intermingled with the spine tingling alleluias from the choir.
Watching the Queen go through the final phase of the coronation, Jane could only sit quietly while thanking God that she had loved the noblest man that she had ever known, the kindest and most generous of men. To love and be loved, she thought was the greatest gift of all. She had been blessed and now in the winter of her life, she was happy and content.
Thank you Robert for you gift of love, she whispered silently as she looked down at the glittering brooch.
FIN
Guide to acronyms in this story:
CVO - Commander of the Victoria Order
DSO - Distinguished Service Order
MC – Military Cross
CMG – Commander of the Order of St Michael and St George
The Parry hymn quoted above is from "I Was Glad" by Hubert Parry and written for Edward VII's coronation in 1902.
Many thanks to Mrs Danvers again for her suggestion for the ending. Reviews are appreciated.