Title: When You're Down And Troubled.
Rating: T
Spoiler: It takes place in late October of 1920, so it's AU season 3.
Summary: Isobel winds up in hot water as she is arrested for solicitation.
Note: This idea came to my head after reading, what Penelope Wilton said in the press pack for season 3. The thing about Isobel biting off more than she can chew. I don't know, if this could've actually happened during those times, and I must admit that I haven't done any checking up on it, so I apologize if this in not accurate. But please keep in mind that this is just fiction and it's just a bit of fun. :) Thank you. :) Also, English is not my native language, so I apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors you might find - this hasn't been through a beta either.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Julian Fellowes and ITV.
When You're Down And Troubled.
Isobel left the center in York feeling upbeat. Today had been a good day. More women had come in wanting to turn their lives around, and accepting the help that was provided. Feeling good about that, and feeling that what she did mattered, she decided, despite the cold weather, to take a detour before heading home.
Before leaving that morning she'd told Mrs. Bird not to expect her home early, and that she shouldn't expect her home for dinner. And in case she did arrive home early, she'd just have some of yesterday's leftovers. So knowing she wasn't expected home for dinner, she decided to head towards the slightly dodgier part of town, where she knew women stood around trying to attract men.
As she arrived at her destination, she saw one of the women leaving with a man. That only made her more determined, and she quickened her steps, and found herself standing in front of the remaining three women mere seconds later.
She smiled kindly at them, though she received stares and glares in return.
"Hello." When none of them replied back, she decided to keep talking without holding anything back. "I know that times are hard, and you think that being a prostitute is all you're capable of being. But believe me, there's so much more in life for you."
Two of the women avoided her gaze, but the third one snorted.
"Oh sod off!"
Not being the least bit turned off by that remark, Isobel pressed on.
"I work with destitute fallen women. We help you find alternative employment and teach you skills, so that you won't have to keep working like this. You can have a much better life for yourselves, if you're willing to accept the help."
The woman glared at her.
"Our lives are just fine."
Isobel arched an eyebrow at that.
"Are they really?" The woman rolled her eyes and stepped a few feet to the side, to get away. Not wanting to give up, Isobel moved over to the other two women. "Is this really the life, you want for yourselves? As I said, I know that times are hard, but there are…."
"What do you know about hard times?" The woman, who'd talked to Isobel walked back to her, interrupting her speech. She looked her up and down. "You sure don't look like, you know anything about hard times with your fancy coat and hat and all that." Isobel shrugged.
"I may not know of hard times like that exactly, but I do kn…"
"Then you know nothing!" Despite receiving a menacing glare, Isobel didn't let it get to her.
"I see enough of it every day at the center, and I see the good results that come from women, who receive our help." She looked at the other two women again. "Please come to the center and accept our help."
The woman grabbed Isobel by the arm, turning her around to face her again. She gave her a slight push.
"I told you to sod off." Two men, who had slightly been approaching them, turned away and walked in the opposite direction. "See? You're scaring them away. They're our livelihood. We need them to be able to feed ourselves and our children. Don't you get that?" She gave Isobel another slight push, but Isobel stood her ground and stood tall.
"No, I don't understand that. Not when it doesn't have to be your livelihood. If you would just accept the he.."
"If you won't leave, we will." She walked over to the other two women, and started pushing them away. "Come on. We'll find somewhere else to stand." She looked over her shoulder at Isobel, as they walked away. "And if you know what's good for you, you better not follow us."
Isobel sighed as she watched them leave. She had a feeling she would've been able to convince the other two, to come to the center. At least they seemed more agreeable, though they hadn't said anything.
As she stood there for several minutes contemplating, if she could've done things differently, she didn't notice the man approaching her.
"Well, I'll say." She looked up to find an elderly man looking her up and down with a dirty smirk on his face. "I never thought your sort of thing dressed so elegantly. Nor did I think that a woman as old as you did something like this. But I guess everyone's desperate these days."
She gaped at him, stunned for a moment by his words, but then started thinking clearly again. She fixed him a glare.
"I'm not what you think, I am." He smirked at her even more.
"Sure you're not, Darling."
"I'm not! I work at a center for destitute fallen women. And mere moments ago I was talking to some women here, and tried to convince them to accept our help." Seeing as she was not getting through to him, she decided it was best to just leave. "Now if you'll kindly excuse me."
She tried to walk away, but the man grabbed her arms swinging her back towards him.
"Not so fast." When she came face to face with him again, she could see that he was angry. "I'm willing to pay good money for you, and you're just going to walk away? I don't think so."
Starting to get frightened, she tried escaping the grab he had on her.
"I already told you that I'm not that kind of woman. Now please be so kind as to let me go."
"Not a chance, Darling. You might not be the prettiest or the youngest whore, I've seen around these parts. But since you're the only one here, you'll have to do, because I have needs that I need to have taken care of."
Becoming really scared now, she tried freeing herself and protesting as he tried dragging her with him.
"Let go of me." She tried punching him with her free hand. "I said let go."
"What's going on here?"
Isobel sighed in relief as she watched two police officers approaching them. She was about to open her mouth to explain the situation, when the man grabbing her quickly let go of her, and started talking.
"She was forcing herself on me, Officer. I told her, I wasn't interested, but she wouldn't take no for an answer." Isobel gaped at him at first, but then started to get angry.
"That's a lie. You're the one, who grabbed me. I told you, I wasn't a prostitute, but you wouldn't listen." He didn't look at her, but kept his eyes on the police officers.
"She's lying. You know how desperate women are these days. They'll say and do anything to get out of trouble." He nodded his head towards her. "She's even dressed in fancier clothes in order to sell herself to a higher bidder."
"I have done no such thing, because I'm not into selling myself. I told you, I work with destitute fallen women. You're the one, who wouldn't listen."
"See, Officers? Nothing but lies." Seeing that the officers didn't know what to make of the situation, the man went on. "I work at Langdon's, which as you know is a much respected furniture company. As you might know, the factory is located not far from here. Now I was just minding my own business going home from work, and taking this route because it's the easiest, when this prostitute here started asking, if I'd be interested in her services."
"I did no such thing!" Isobel looked at the officers. "I did no such thing. This man is lying. He's the one, who grabbed me. And I'm certainly no prostitute."
"Look at it this way, Officers. I have a valid reason for being down here. But what reason does she have? Everyone knows that her kind inhabits these streets trying to sell themselves to innocent men, who are just trying to get home after doing an honest day's work." Seeing the officers starting eyeing her suspiciously, the man went on. "Just because she dresses differently, than other women of her kind, doesn't mean she's not one of them. Like I said, women will do anything these days."
The police officers looked at each other, and nodded in agreement. One of them then stepped towards Isobel.
"Right then. You're coming with us."
She gaped in shock and looked at them incredulously.
"You can't be serious?"
"I am being serious. You're under arrest for solicitation."
"What? No, you can't do that. I did nothing wrong."
Standing complete in shock of the situation, she had no time to react as the handcuffs were put on, her wrists.
Smiling on the inside, but portraying the face of an innocent man on the outside, the man looked at his pocket watch, and then looked at the police officers again.
"Am I free to go, Officers? It's just that my wife is expecting me, and I'd hate for her to worry. You see, she's rather ill these days."
The police officers exchanged glances yet again, and then one of them turned to the man and nodded.
"You're free to go."
"Thank you. And thank you for arriving just in time."
"It's no trouble. We'll take care of this matter. You just hurry on home to your wife."
"I will, Officers, and thank you again."
The man hurried away, and all Isobel could do was look over her shoulder at his retreating form, as she was being dragged away to the police station.
The police officer, who had been assigned to question Isobel, sighed watching her being taken away. He shook his head at her unwillingness to have someone called, who could verify her story.
Walking over to get himself a cup of tea, he was met by a colleague.
"Who was that woman, you were questioning?"
"Oh her? Well, she's quite a case, I tell you."
"How so?"
"Well, to start with she's been arrested for solicitation."
The other officer blinked in surprise.
"Seriously?" The other one nodded. "She doesn't look like the type."
"I don't think she is. But she refuses to let us contact anyone, who can verify her story. She keeps saying that she only works with destitute fallen women, but that she's not one herself, and that that should speak for itself."
"Then surely you can just contact the place she works at, and have them verify her story."
"I told her we could do that, but she refuses. She says, she doesn't want to bring any shame on their good cause."
"What about her family then? Or hasn't she got one?"
"She has a son. But apparently he's married into a family, well her family too, who is a well-known and respected family. She doesn't want to bring any shame on them either. Or most of all her son, I think."
At hearing that information the other officer started wondering. After a few seconds pause, he looked at the other officer again with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"She has a son, and is connected to well-known family, you say?"
"Yes that's right. Her cousin is an earl, I believe."
"What's her name?"
The officer took a sip of his tea before answering.
"Isobel Crawley."
"Ah yes that's right."
Seeing the other man's reaction to the name, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Do you know her?"
"No, but I've met her once years ago during the war. I thought she looked slightly familiar, but couldn't quite place her. However, I do know that she's telling the truth. Or at least I know she couldn't have become a prostitute, seeing as who she is related to. She would never fall on such hard times."
"Well that's good to know, but it won't exactly help her. As a police officer you are not a reliable candidate to verify her story."
"No, I know."
"So do you know anyone, who could be? It's not right for her to be here. And since she's so unwilling to let us contact anyone, because she fears what it'll do to their reputation, I'd hate for her to go to court over a misunderstanding. That would surely drag her name, and the reputation of everyone, she's trying to protect, through the mud."
The other officer smiled and nodded.
"I know just the person to call."
Dr. Clarkson walked into his office ready to head home. With no emergencies at the hospital, and with an intern doctor there, he felt confident enough that he could head home a little early for once. Though, he still decided to bring some paperwork home with him.
Having packed his things and having put on his coat and hat, he was just about to walk out the door, when the phone rang. Sighing deeply he walked back and picked it up.
"Hello. Dr. Clarkson speaking."
"Hello, Richard, it's Peter Dale."
Pleasantly surprised that it was a friend calling and not an emergency, the smile and happiness were evident in Richard's voice.
"Hello Peter. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you. And you?"
"Well, I was just about to head home actually. I have an intern at the hospital these days, so I can head home a little earlier for once. And well we have no emergencies at the moment, or other pressing matters to attend to."
"That sounds nice."
"It is. So how are you? Anything I can do for you, or is this just a social call?"
"Well, I'm not quite sure."
"That sounds rather intriguing. Why don't you tell me, why you're calling?"
"Do you know a Mrs. Crawley?"
Knowing his friend didn't care about social class, and that the Dowager Countess wouldn't be any different to him than Lady Mary Crawley, he had to chuckle.
"I know quite a few of them actually, so you'll have to be more specific."
"Yes, of course. I'm referring to a Mrs. Isobel Crawley."
Richard stood stock still, his body went numb, his mouth went dry, and if he had been able to see himself in the mirror, he'd have noticed that he had turned white as a sheet. Fearing the worst, he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, in an attempt to get his emotions under control. He opened his eyes again and took another breath before answering.
"Yes, I know her."
"That's what I thought. I remembered her from that one time, I visited you at the hospital years ago."
"What's happened to her?"
"I don't exactly know how to tell you this."
"Please, Peter, just tell me. Whatever it is, just come out with it."
"Are you sure?"
"YES!"
He surprised himself with his outburst, and hadn't realized until that moment, how hard he'd been gripping the phone. He took a deep breath again trying to get his emotions under control, which was pointless really.
"Richard, are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. I apologize for shouting. But please just tell me what's happened to her."
"Alright, but since there's no easy way of telling you, I'm just going to come right out and say it. She's been arrested for solicitation." Richard's eyes went wide. That's not what he'd expected to hear. After a long pause, he heard Peter on the other end. "Richard? Are you there? Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, I did, but whaa…I canno….she canno…that's not lik….I don't kno…" He rolled his eyes at himself for sounding like a babbling idiot. "That can't possibly be true?"
"I'm afraid that it is, Richard."
"But she would never do that. She's not that kind of woman. She's a kind, caring, sweet, noble, and honorable woman. She's not a prostitute."
"Kind, caring, and sweet?" Richard heard the grin in his friend's voice. "That's not how you've described her in the past. I seem to remember you saying that she was annoying at times, interfered too much, and that you often found yourself rolling your eyes at her."
Going from being white as a sheet a few moments ago, Richard's face suddenly turned red.
"Well, I didn't mean that I….that is to say that I never thoug…I mean I would never ha…I don't feel tha…she's not really like tha…" Hearing his friend laughing on the other end, he groaned. "Would you stop it?"
"How can I, when you sound so flustered? It's not like you to sound like that, Richard. Perhaps you should see someone about that. How about Mrs. Crawley? She's trained as a nurse after all."
Richard groaned again and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Look! I might've thought that she's been annoying and interfering at times, and I might've rolled my eyes at her from time to time. But that doesn't mean that I can't think, she's all the other things as well. She has always shown kindness and care to everyone, she's come across. Everyone can verify that."
"And what about her being sweet? Can everyone verify that as well, or is that just your personal opinion?"
"Will you please stop laughing? And will you please tell me, why you've called, if you already know, the identity of Mrs. Crawley?"
Peter continued laughing for a few moments longer, but then stopped.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop. Well, speaking of verifying, someone has to verify her story in order for her to be released. That is why I'm calling."
"Can't you do that, since you know who she is?"
"No, not as a police officer. It has to be someone, who is familiar with her. Someone with enough credibility, and given the circumstances of her arrest, someone respected in society."
"And I'll do? I'm just a village doctor."
"Don't go putting yourself down, Richard. You know that I don't care for social ranks. And anyone here will accept your credibility. Besides, she wasn't keen on having the center where she works at informed, so that they could help. Something about not wanting to bring any shame over them. It was the same with her family."
"Yes, I can see that."
"She seems like a rather proud woman. She honestly believes that her word will be good enough to get her released." At that Richard chuckled.
"I can just imagine that. It's so like her. And I don't see why her word shouldn't be enough. Surely, she doesn't look anything like the sort of woman, she's been mistaken for."
"No, she doesn't. But unfortunately, she was arrested by two officers, who would rather believe a man's word over a woman's. Not to worry though. Although we can't let her go without someone verifying her story, she will be released as soon as it has been verified. I can assure you of that."
"But since she thought, she could be released without outside help, she's not told you to contact me then?"
"No, she hasn't. I just didn't think it was right for her to be imprisoned. So since I remembered that you've worked with her, I thought it was best to call you. I hope you don't mind?"
"No, no, of course not. You were right to call me. Thank you."
"That's what I thought." He started to grin again. "Especially, since she's so sweet, caring, kind, and all that, right?"
"Stop it!" He looked at his pocket watch, as he heard his friend stopping his laughter. "I know of someone leaving for York in a few minutes. I'm sure I can get a ride with him. Where is Mrs. Crawley at the moment?"
"At the police station in a holding cell. I told my boss that I thought I knew of someone, who could help her. That's why she's not been taken anywhere yet."
"That's good, that's good. I'll come to the police station then. I better hurry, if I'm to catch that ride. See you soon, Peter, and thank you."
"You're welcome, Richard. Should I tell Mrs. Crawley that you're coming, or would you rather go to the holding cell and tell her yourself?"
"Well, seeing as she didn't want you to contact anyone, I think it's best that I just show up at her holding cell."
"Okay, I won't say anything then."
"Thank you. I'm off then. Bye Peter."
"Bye Richard."
Hanging up the phone Richard took a deep breath for a moment. He was thrilled that Isobel was alright, but utterly surprised that she'd gotten herself into such a situation. Shaking the thought from his mind, he realized that he didn't have time to think more about it. Deciding to leave his paperwork behind, he quickly left his office to find the intern to let him know, he wouldn't be within reach, and to see if he could catch that ride to York.
Rubbing her temples with her fingers, Isobel sighed for the millionth time at the horrible situation, she'd landed herself in. But at least on the positive side, she was alone in the holding cell and no one occupied the other two cells either, which she was extremely happy about. Placing her hands in her lap again, she closed her eyes leaning against the wall in her cell wondering, if she could or should have done things differently.
Although she knew, her heart had been in the right place, she also came to the realization that it might not have been the wisest decision to seek out the prostitutes in the dodgier part of town. At least not at that time of day, she amended.
And perhaps she had been foolish not to have contacted Matthew. If she had, she'd be out by now. However, he and Mary still lived at Downton, and it would more than likely be impossible for him to keep it a secret from everyone. She could deal with many things, but having Cousin Violet make fun of her over this, was not something she was willing to let happen. Of course if she ended up having to go to court Cousin Violet would find out anyway.
Shaking her head at herself, she knew she ought to have known better. Perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew this time. And perhaps her pride had, once again, gotten in the way. Or perhaps, she realized, it had more to do with her stubbornness, though she'd never admit that to anyone.
Being lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the door open and close and footsteps approaching her cell. Nor did she notice someone stopping and standing outside of her cell.
"Well, well, well, Mrs. Crawley." At hearing the familiar voice Isobel opened her eyes, staring wide eyed. But instead of turning her head to face her visitor, she stayed rooted in her seat facing forward. "Now I know you like to be hands on with everything you get involved in. But this is taking things a little too far, even for you. Don't you think?"
At hearing the laughter in his voice, she slowly turned her head and saw Dr. Clarkson standing in front of her cell. Seeing the grin and slight smirk on his face, she narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance.
"What are you doing here?"
Hearing how annoyed she was, his grin got a little bigger.
"Well, hello to you, too, Mrs. Crawley."
She rolled her eyes at that, got up from her seat and stepped all the way up to the cell door.
"Hello, Dr. Clarkson. How please be so kind as to tell me, what you are doing here."
His grin and slight smirk turned into a kind smile.
"I'm here to get you out."
"How did you even know, I was here?"
"A friend of mine is a police officer here. He visited me at the hospital years ago. When he saw you being escorted to this cell, he thought you looked familiar. And when he was told the details, from the officer who talked to you, he remembered you."
"And so he just decided to call you? Without even asking for my permission?"
Richard took a calming breath. He'd known all along that she wouldn't be pleased. He gave yet another kind smile, and spoke with the same kindness.
"He didn't think it was right for you to be here, when he knew that you didn't belong here. And given the fact that you didn't want to have your family or anyone from the center come and verify your story, he thought that I could do it." She crossed her arms across her chest.
"If he knew me, why couldn't he simply have let me go? Why did he have to call you? I specifically said, I didn't want anyone contacted."
Richard sighed a little at her unwillingness to accept help. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel proud.
"As a police officer, he's not a valid candidate to verify it. Someone with credibility needed to do that."
"Well, you'd think that a police officer would have enough credibility."
"Yes, I do reali…"
"But of course if they had that, I wouldn't be arrested in the first place. It's absolutely ridiculous that I was even arrested."
"You'll hear no argume…."
"I look nothing like a prostitute!" He blinked a little at her outburst and the volume of her voice, which had gone up quite a bit. Seeing his expression, her arms fell down to her sides, as she looked down. She cleared her throat, and spoke calmer. "At least I don't think I look like a prostitute."
"No! Of course you don't!" Her head snapped back up to meet his at the intensity of his words. Now it was he, who cleared his throat and looked away for a split second. But then he came back to look her somewhat in the eyes again. He spoke calmer too. "No one in their right mind would confuse you with a prostitute." She gave him a small sincere smile at that remark.
"Thank you." He shrugged it off, but smiled a little in return.
"Now as I was trying to say, I do think it was wrong that you got arrested. But what's done is done, and the only way for you to get out of here now, is for me to verify that you are, who you say you are. Which by the way, I've already done."
"That's not really fair to women that a man has to verify that." He gave her a gentle smile.
"I don't think it's only a man, who can verify that." She rolled her eyes.
"Oh who are you kidding, Doctor? You and I both know that a woman's opinion hardly matters, but that only a man's does."
"Now that is not entir…." At the arched eyebrow she gave him, he sighed. "Well, I suppose it's mostly true." She nodded. "But there are some men, who value a woman's opinion." When she was about to respond, he pressed on not wanting her to interrupt him again, or for him to explain himself differently. "And I'm sure that had you contacted Lady Grantham or the Dowager Countess, they would have been credible enough." She sighed at that.
"I suppose they would have. Not that I would ever even have considered contacting them."
Knowing that her not wanting anyone coming to her aid had to do with her pride, he also realized that there was another reason. He spoke softly.
"You do realize that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about you being here, right?" At her questioning gaze, he clarified. "Doctor-patient confidentiality."
"I'm not your patient." He nodded.
"You're right, of course. But that still doesn't mean that I'm going to tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me. And with the charges dropped, there'll be no mention of this in the papers. No one will find out about this, unless you tell them."
She sighed and nodded knowing he was right. She then returned the soft smile she received.
"Thank you. And I know, I can trust you to keep it a secret. You're not one to gossip." He nodded back in affirmation.
"So now that we have that settled, I think it's time to get you home."
"Yes, I do believe you're right."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. I'll just go and get my friend." She nodded and he left.
A few seconds later Richard returned with Peter, who already had the keys to the cell in hand.
"Hello, Mrs. Crawley. I'm Peter Dale, and as you might've guessed, I'm Richard's friend. I do apologize for going behind your back, but it seemed like the right thing to do." He opened the door and she stepped out.
"That's quite alright. I might not have wanted it to begin with, but I've accepted it, and I'm happy about it." She reached her hand forward for him to shake. "Thank you."
He smiled at her and shook her hand.
"You don't have to thank me. Richard's a good friend of mine, so I'm only happy to help out." Remembering their phone conversation, he smiled a little brighter and added, "Especially someone, who Richard describes as being kind, caring, and sweet." Isobel blinked in confusion.
"I beg your pardon?" She quickly turned to look at Richard with eyes wide with surprise. "Dr. Clarkson?"
Avoiding her gaze as much as possible, he merely glanced at her sideways, and shrugged.
"Oh well, you know, it's just how most people describe you."
"Oh." Outwardly he remained indifferent, but inwardly he wondered if he'd heard correctly and that she'd sounded a bit disappointed. "Well that's always nice."
Hearing that the cheerfulness had returned to her voice, he looked at her briefly and smiled nodding.
"Well, now that that's settled." They both turned their attention to Peter. "I think it's time to get you home." He looked at his pocket watch. "Well, there are still about fifteen minutes, until your ride is here." Isobel looked between the two men in confusion.
"Our ride? I'm afraid, I don't understand." Peter smiled at her.
"I have a friend, who is heading your way shortly. I've asked him to give you a ride home."
"You didn't have to go to such trouble. We could've figured something out."
"It's no trouble at all. Besides, this way no one will find out that you were ever here. My friend knows no one in your village, so you don't have to worry about him saying anything to anyone. Not that he would anyway." She smiled kindly.
"I can't imagine he would." She looked between the two men again, and then back at Peter. "Well, if we are to leave shortly, might I use the lavatory?"
"Yes, of course. I'll show you where it is. Follow me."
The three of them left the room with the holding cells, and Peter then proceeded to show Isobel where the lavatory was located. When he came back to Richard, he was met by his glare.
Only when the two men were face to face did Richard speak to him in a hissed voice.
"I cannot believe you told her that." Peter smirked at him.
"You never said, it was a secret. Would you rather I had told her that you find her annoying, interfering, and that you roll your eyes at her?"
"No, of course not!"
"That's what I thought."
"But there was no reason for you to tell her the other things, either."
Peter shrugged and then smiled kindly at Richard.
"I know I've hardly spoken to her, but she seems like a rather nice woman." Richard arched an eyebrow at his friend.
"Yes, and your point with that is what exactly?" Peter grinned.
"Calm down, Richard. You know I'm a happily married man." Richard nodded. "I just wondered if perhaps Mrs. Crawley wouldn't be a suitable match for you."
Richard gaped at him for a few seconds, but then shook his head.
"Absolutely not! I don't think of her like that."
"But you did say tha.."
"Yes, I'm well aware that I said some nice things about her. And while she is all of those things, so are a lot of people, I know. And as you well have pointed out, I do find her interfering, annoying, and I tend to roll my eyes at her too much. You can't possibly find that a good basis for a relationship?" Peter shrugged with a smirk playing on his lips.
"Oh I don't know." At Richard's questioning glance, he went on. "Whenever we've spoken, since I came to visit you that time, you've always mentioned her."
"Yes, I've mentioned that she's annoying, interfering, and that I roll my eyes at her. We've already established that."
"True. But you do realize that you talked endlessly about her, right? And not just about her bad habits, but also whenever you talked about how smoothly things were running at the hospital."
"She's a good nurse that's all. And a good asset to the hospital."
"You've never talked about your other nurses, the way you've talked about Mrs. Crawley. Never spoken about the other nurses at all, come to think of it. And I think there's a reason for that."
"Well, there isn't."
"Well, I think you're wrong. You don't go on and on like that about a woman, if you don't have hidden feelings for her."
"Well, I don't." Richard noticed Isobel rounding the corner down the hall and walking towards them. He learned a little closer to Peter and whispered to him in a hiss. "So kindly keep you assumptions to yourself." Peter nodded in return, but kept a grin on his face as well.
When Isobel reached them, she smiled at Peter.
"Thank you so much for the use of the lavatory."
"Oh it was nothing, Mrs. Crawley. And on behave of my colleagues, who wrongfully arrested you, I sincerely apologize. This situation needn't have happened, and I'm sorry it did."
"Thank you. It's kind of you to say."
"I wish I could stay and see you off, but I need to get back to work." He smiled kindly at Isobel and nodded. "Mrs. Crawley, it was a pleasure meeting you despite the circumstances." She smiled in return.
"It was nice meeting you, too." He then looked at Richard.
"Richard, we'll have to get together soon. It's been far too long." He reached out his hand to Richard.
Not really feeling too happy with his friend at the moment, but knowing he couldn't show that in front of Isobel, he smiled and shook his friend's hand.
"Yes, we must do that. Say hello to Janet for me."
"Good, and I will." He looked between the two of them. "I wish you a pleasant journey home. Goodbye."
Isobel and Richard both said their goodbyes to Peter one more time, and watched him walk down the corridor and out of sight. When they could no longer see him, Richard looked at his pocket watch, and then back at Isobel.
"Well, there are a few more minutes until we can leave. It would probably be best to wait inside."
"Do you mind, if we wait outside? I know it's rather cold, but I…." She trailed off not knowing quite how to say, what she wanted to say.
"No, no, of course not. If you wish to wait outside, then that is what we'll do." She gave him a grateful smile.
"Thank you." Simply nodding he showed her outside.
Once outside, they both shivered a little at the cold evening air hitting them. He led her away from the entrance to the station, so that they could have a bit more privacy.
"Mrs. Crawley, is there something wrong?" She looked at him a bit in confusion. "It's only that it seemed like there was a reason for you wanting to wait out here, rather than inside. Not that I mind waiting out here, mind you." He was quick to add the last part, not wanting her to go back inside, if she wasn't comfortable staying inside. She sighed.
"You'll just think, I'm being silly."
"I promise you that I won't." She heard the kindness in his voice, and when she saw it in his eyes too, she decided to tell him.
"I just noticed my appearance, while I was in the lavatory. I'm a right mess. My coat has become rather dirty, and I feel like I smell quite badly from being locked up in that cell for so long. I'm just not too thrilled about anyone seeing me like this. And although she won't tell anyone, I'm not too thrilled about Mrs. Bird seeing me like this either. I did tell her not to expect me home for dinner, because I might arrive home late. But it'll still be quite early, by the time I arrive home, which means she could still be waiting up."
Not thinking that anything he said could make her think differently about herself, and not wanting to give away his feelings anymore, than he'd already done, he decided to try a different approach.
"I have some of your clothes at my place that you can change into. And if no one is expecting you home at any specific time, you're welcome to have a bath at my cottage and stay for supper. You can then leave my place so late in the evening that you won't be spotted by anyone. That way Mrs. Bird won't be able to tell that you're not wearing the same clothes that you left your house in this morning. And we can always hang your coat outside to air out, and give it a good brushing off."
She blinked at him in surprise at everything, he'd said, but one specific thing stood out to her.
"Why do you have some of my clothes at your cottage? Or more importantly, how have you come to have some of my clothes at your cottage?"
"Do you remember the big accident that came in at the hospital in February?"
She didn't have to search her brain for the answer. She remembered that well. Six people had been brought into the hospital severely injured, and among them three young children. No one had made it.
"Yes, I remember. I was walking by the hospital, when they came in."
"And you offered to help. But with limited time, you didn't have time to change into a nurse's uniform."
"And because of that my clothes got covered in blood."
"Yes that's right. When there was nothing left for us to do, and it was time to go home, you changed into a nurse's uniform, and I told you that I would have your clothes cleaned."
"That's right, you did. But that doesn't explain why my clothes are at your place."
"Well, you see, after I had them cleaned, I brought them to the hospital thinking, you'd come by to pick them up. But you got more involved with the wedding, and not long after the wedding you started your new job here."
"Yes that's true, but it still doesn't explain, why my clothes are at your place. I've been to the hospital a few times since that horrible accident. I know, I've really only been there regarding board meetings, but still."
"Yes, I know. But since your clothes were cleaned separately from the hospital clothes, I didn't think it was right to keep them at the hospital, in case they started to smell like one. I had planned on delivering them to Crawley House, but there never seemed to be a right moment."
"Oh I see." She smiled at him a little more touched by his kindness. "Thank you." He merely shook off her compliment. "Well, I guess it's a good thing then that you never got around to bringing them by." He smiled back.
"So you'll agree to come to my cottage for supper and everything?"
"Yes, thank you, I'd like that. I know it must sound terribly vain of me not wanting to go home like this."
"No, not at all. You've had quite an experience. So a nice relaxing bath is quite in order, I should think." He sighed a little. "But when I promised supper, I'm afraid that all I have is leftover stew from yesterday." She smiled a little brighter.
"That sounds wonderful." He smiled brighter too.
"I'm glad. And about you not wanting to go through the village like that. We can have the driver drop us off near my cottage, and we can then walk through the back paths and come in through my back garden. I don't think anyone will be able to see us that way, and especially not since it's already dark now, and that I don't really live close to anyone."
"I'd like that, thank you."
"It's no problem at all." Noticing a car approaching Richard looked in its direction. He smiled and looked back at Isobel. "Our ride is here."
When Richard and Isobel reached the backdoor of his cottage, he got his key out and unlocked the door. Opening the door he allowed her to walk in first, and then followed her turning on the lights and closing the door.
"Well, welcome. Here let me get your coat."
"Thank you."
She let him take her coat and then took off her hat, as he hung up her coat as well as his own coat and hat. She placed her hat on the small table that was there.
"I'll just leave it here for the moment, and put it outside after I've taken care of that bath for you. If you'll follow me please." She nodded.
"Yes, of course."
She followed him through his cottage to the stairs. As he turned on the lights as they made their way upstairs, she took in her surroundings. Her beautiful surroundings she noted to herself.
When they reached the upstairs, he went straight to his bedroom and walked in. Hesitating only for a brief moment, Isobel followed him. As he got her clothes out of his closet, she took in her surroundings. His walls were cream colored, but his pieces of furniture were rather dark. There were a few pieces of landscape drawings hanging on the walls, but no other pictures or such as décor.
"Right, here we are." She turned to look at him as he hung her clothes on the door to his closet. "I'll leave it here and just go start running the bath, and then find some towels while waiting for the bathtub to fill. It'll only take a couple of minutes, so you can just wait here."
"Alright."
When he'd left she walked over to take a look at her clothes. They looked as good as new, and no one would ever be able to tell that they once had been nearly completely covered in blood. Breathing in the scent she realized they smelled rather fresh despite the many months they would've been hanging in the closet. Realizing he must've taken them out once in a while to air out, she couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness.
Stepping away from her clothes, she stepped over to the wall to admire the drawings, which is where Richard found her a few minutes later.
"Your bath is ready." She turned and smiled at him.
"Thank you. It's really kind of you to go to all this trouble." He shook his head smiling kindly.
"It's no trouble at all. Now my bathroom is not the biggest one, so perhaps you'd be more comfortable changing in here afterwards. I'll stay downstairs the entire time, and you can just come down, when you've finished." She nodded.
"That sounds like a good plan then."
"Good. The bathroom's right this way." She followed him out the door, and noticed him gesturing with his hand to the room across from his bedroom. "It's just through there. You'll find the towels, a flannel, and soap in there."
"Thank you. I won't take long as I'm sure you must be hungry by now." He shook his head gently letting her know that it was no trouble.
"Don't worry about that. You just take your time. It will still take some time to get the cooker warm enough, and for supper to be heated through."
"Shall we say half an hour then? Would that be enough time?"
"That sounds perfect." She gave him a big smile.
"Good. I'll see you downstairs in thirty minutes, then." He nodded.
"I'll see you then."
She walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Pondering for a brief moment whether or not to lock the door, she decided there was no reason to do so. Taking in her surroundings here too, she noticed that he'd been right about the size of the room. But to her it didn't matter. It had just the right fit.
Sighing contently at feeling the heat from the warm water, she quickly got undressed and got in. Letting the warm water soothe her body, she leaned back and enjoyed the feeling for a few moments, before picking up the soap and flannel and started washing herself.
After getting dressed and having folded the clothes she'd arrived in, she found that she still had a few minutes before having promised to be down. Knowing that she shouldn't be doing it, she couldn't help but having a little peek through the doctor's things.
For years she'd had feelings for him, and always wanted to know more about him. Wanted to know him more intimately. She blushed at her own implications, and took a deep breath smiling sadly. He'd never reciprocate her feelings, so there was no point in thinking more about that. All she could do was take a quick look through his things to know what his clothes felt like to her touch, when she could never touch it while he wore it.
Walking quietly over to his closet she opened it and looked inside. Everything was neatly hung and in order. She ran a hand over the items, and took in the feel of them. Closing it again, she stepped over to his bed and ran a hand over the bedding, and bent down to take in the scent of his pillow. She smiled at the familiar scent.
The last thing she did was take a look at the two books on his bedside table. She smiled as she found a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets, but she stared wide eyed at the second book.
It was her husband's book. Or more importantly it was the book that she'd had published of his works after his death. Running her hand over its cover she felt her eyes starting to water a little bit, and wondered what it could mean that he had it there.
But as soon as the thought had entered her mind, just as soon did she let it pass. She shook her head at her silliness. Of course it was there because he needed it for work. It could not be anything more than that. Drying her eyes she went back to pick up her clothes. She glanced around his bedroom one last time before closing the door to it behind her. Making a quick visit to the bathroom to check her eyes, she made her way downstairs seconds later.
When she came downstairs she found him in the kitchen. He had his back turned to her at the cooker, so she took a few seconds to take in the surroundings before making her presence known. The kitchen was smaller than the one at Crawley House, but it felt more comfortable and warmer. There was a small table there, which had already been set, and a few candles were lit. No doubt to bring more heat into the room, she thought. Lastly she looked at Richard once again, and noticed that he'd changed. Instead of his jacket, he was wearing a warm cardigan, which made her wonder if he'd taken off his waistcoat and tie, too.
"You seem to have everything under control." He jumped a little at the sound of her voice and turned around. "Is there anything I can do to help?" She smiled a little to herself at seeing that he indeed had taken off his waistcoat and tie.
He shook his head smiling at her.
"No, everything has been taken care of, and in fact supper is ready." He took the stew off the cooker turning it off, and walked over to join her at the table. He nodded towards her. "I hope your clothes are still as good as the last time, you wore them."
"Yes, they are. Thank you for taking such good care of them." He shrugged off her compliment as he put the pot down on the table. "Speaking of clothes, I see that you've changed as well."
He took a look down himself and then back at her, and got embarrassed.
"Forgive me, Mrs. Crawley, I didn't mean to dress so improper. If you'll excuse me, I'll just go and change." He was about to leave, when her hand on his upper arm stopped him.
"Please, don't change for me. This is your home, and you can dress however you want. If you wish to go change into your pajamas, I would have no problem with that." Realizing her hand was still on his arm, she let go of it. "I'm not Cousin Violet, so you don't have to make a big fuss for my sake. I find this much more comfortable anyway. I should hope you knew that." He smiled and nodded.
"Yes, of course I know."
"Good, then let's eat before this delicious food gets cold." She turned and sat down as he chuckled and walked to take a seat opposite her.
"You might not think so after you've tasted it."
"Nonsense. It smells delicious, which is why I'm quite convinced that it will taste equally delicious." They chuckled together as she allowed him to serve her.
"I hope you don't mind that we're eating in the kitchen. It's just that the dining room would take too long to heat."
"I don't mind at all. You have a very lovely home. Beautiful in fact."
He looked her in the eyes for only a few seconds, before turning away a bit shyly by her compliment.
"Thank you." He then gestured to their plates of food. "Shall we eat?" She nodded and they both started eating.
"Mmm." She swallowed her mouthful of food and then smiled at him. "I was right. This is delicious. Did you make it?"
"Yes, I did."
"I didn't know you knew how to cook." He grinned a little.
"The advantage of growing up with four sisters, who all had to learn. And since I had no brothers and my father was away working a lot, my mother thought it couldn't hurt, if I knew how to cook as well. I suppose it was more of a way to keep an eye on me, since she'd have no time otherwise with my sisters all in the kitchen with her." She smiled warmly at his story.
"She's taught you well." He returned her smile and the compliment.
"Thank you." He took another bite, and then a drink of water before speaking again. "It's paid off knowing how to cook, considering my busy schedule at times. Sometimes I don't know when, I'll arrive home, so it's so much easier not having a cook, who wouldn't know when to expect to be able to put a meal on."
"Yes, I can understand that. And I suppose you also still eat dinner at the hospital a lot. Or has that changed?" He shook his head.
"No that still hasn't changed. We might be less busy, than during the war, but there are still patients to see, and paperwork to write. Times may be changing, but my work load since before the war hasn't really changed."
"But do you find time to take some time for yourself? To take the time to do some things for your own enjoyment?" He shrugged.
"There really isn't much time for that, as a village doctor. Not much other than my annual days off."
"No, of course not."
"But I have been able to get a little more time to myself, with the intern I have at the moment." She took a sip of her water, and nodded while swallowing.
"Oh yes that's right, he arrived some weeks ago. How is he working out?" He dried his mouth on his napkin.
"Quite well actually. He's good at his job, and follows orders quite easily."
"Ah I see. So you don't have to argue with him, and end up rolling your eyes at him?" He blinked at her.
"Pardon?" She shrugged a little.
"It's just I noticed you used to do that at me a lot. The eye rolling part that is. I don't think I've ever left you much room to argue back." He gaped a little and tried to defend himself.
"Mrs. Crawley, I've never rolled me eyes at y…" At her arched eyebrow he sighed admitting defeat. He looked down feeling ashamed. "I wasn't aware that you knew."
"When you throw your head back as you roll your eyes, you're not really being discreet about it." At hearing the slight humor in her voice, he looked up to find that she was smiling a little. He started smiled a little too, but stopped when her smile disappeared, and she started looking rather vulnerable. "Am I really that awful? Am I really that difficult to work with?" He was about to reply when she held up a hand stopping him. "And please give me an honest answer. I would prefer that."
He sighed putting his knife and fork down, and took a few seconds to look at her, before speaking.
"You want the absolute honest truth?" She bit her bottom lip for a brief moment, but then gave an affirmative nod.
"Yes."
He took another long moment to look at her, before he had his answer. His features softened and he smiled gently.
"No, you're not." She was about to open her mouth to argue, but this time he held a hand up stopping her. "And I am being absolutely honest." She smiled a little.
"But there still must be a reason for the eye rolling. Please tell me so that I know what to work on, and so that I can apologize for what I've done wrong." He shook his head vehemently.
"You've done absolutely nothing wrong." He softened his tone by her slightly surprised expression. "Believe me, you've done nothing wrong." He ran a hand over his face and took a breath, before looking back at her and continuing. "I've never had anyone interfering or questioning my work at the hospital before you came along. The fact that you knew so much about medicine and procedures surprised me, and quite frankly frightened me a little. I expected you to be like any other nurse, and you were nothing of the sort."
"I'm sorry Dr. Clarkson. I never meant for you to feel like that or to be disrespectful to your profession. Please forgive me." He smiled shaking his head.
"But you see there's nothing to forgive. I might've felt like that in the beginning, but if it weren't for you and your determination, John Drake would be dead now. You were right to push for me to use the adrenaline. And it was because of that, or more specifically, because of you that I started to more closely read up on new treatments and procedures. You made me want to become a better doctor."
She blushed slightly at his compliment, and avoided his gaze for a minute. When she looked at him again, she grinned slightly.
"Then how do you go from giving me such praise, to rolling your eyes at me so much?" She stopped grinning but kept a soft but curious smile on her face. "I must've done something wrong." He shook his head.
"No, not really. We got along quite well without any problems in the first few years, but the war changed us all."
"Ah, I see." She nodded. "I suppose I was rather difficult to handle in regards to the convalescent home." He allowed himself to chuckle a little.
"Just a bit perhaps." They both grinned a little, but he then smiled gently. "I don't have any children, so I don't know what it's like to have someone to love and care for like that. But I can understand how difficult it must've been for you to have your son so far away, and not knowing if he was alright or not. And because of you not knowing that, I can understand why you felt a need to work so hard on the convalescent home, and why you felt that you alone should've been put in charge of it. It was a way for you to feel close to him, while at the same time having something to be in control over. I'm not implying that you control your son's life. Far from it in fact. But just that you needed to be in control of something, so that you yourself didn't lose control by worrying about your son's wellbeing." He sighed. "I apologize if I've spoken out of turn." She shook her head.
"You haven't. Not at all. Also I'm glad to know that you don't think, I control Matthew's life. And you were absolutely right about everything else."
"Well, it wasn't just you, but it was me as well, who contributed to the situation."
"How so?"
"Like I said, the war changed us all. I had more responsibilities, and more patients than I've ever had. The workdays were longer, which meant less rest. That on top of…well on top of…" She gave him an encouraging smile.
"Go on." He gave her a grateful one in return.
"Well that on top of dealing with the entire Crawley family." She chuckled out loud, and he joined her. "Let's just say that it didn't make things easier. We were no longer in our own cozy little world. Instead we were in a world full of chaos that meant stress and having to go by a new work schedule." He shrugged. "During such times feelings run high, and when someone's going against the flow of things, there needs to be an outlet for one's frustrations." He gave her a soft and kind smile. "Hence the eye rolling." She returned the smile.
"I see."
"But if it makes you feel any better, I also rolled my eyes at everyone else behind their backs. But I don't think they've noticed. Otherwise I'm sure I would've received a good telling off by the Dowager Countess a long time ago."
At that remark Isobel burst out laughing. Pleased by her reaction, Richard joined her.
"Oh I'm sure you would have." The continued laughing for a few moments longer, but then it died down. "So I can understand why you've rolled your eyes at me during the war, but why after?"
"After?" She arched her eyebrow at him again.
"I noticed you rolling your eyes at me, when I said I'd come to Carson's room with you, when he had the Spanish Flu. And there were a few other times." He sighed.
"I can only say that it was due to the after effects of the war." She looked at him in confusion.
"But the war was long over by then. And I'd started working with the refugees." He sighed.
"Yes, I know. But because you had spent less time helping out at the hospital, I'd slipped into a routine, where I was once again managing on my own. However, then all of a sudden there you were again, wanting to get involved in everything like you did during the war. But it was also due to the stress of the illness that made me roll my eyes, and made me feel that you interfered. I had not had much peace for a long time, because the illness had taken me all over the village." She nodded.
"I can understand that." He leaned a little forward in his seat.
"Please know, Mrs. Crawley that I have always appreciated, valued, and respected your opinion, and the fact that you care so much for the wellbeing of another human being. And please know that whenever I have felt annoyed with you, or felt you interfered too much, or rolled my eyes at you, it has been because of the stressful situation, we've been in. I've never meant to cause you any pain, and if I have and I've hurt your feelings, I beg your forgiveness. You're the only one that I've ever been able to share medical notes with and discuss opinions with in this village, and I've always treasured that. I'd hate for that to end because I've been a horrible fool."
She had to blink very hard so as not to cry, having been deeply touched by his words. Biting her bottom lip to stop it from starting to tremble, she shook her head and finally managed to keep the tears at bay, and instead gave him a big happy smile.
"You have nothing to ask forgiveness for, because I don't feel that you've done any wrong."
"But surely I ha.."
"No, you haven't. Please don't try to argue with me on this, beca.."
"Because I won't get a word in?" He had to bite his lip from laughing out loud, but when she started he couldn't hold back either.
"Yes, exactly." They continued chuckling for a little while, before she went on. "I understand now, why you've rolled your eyes at me. And I'm the one, who is sorry that I've not made things easy for you in those stressful situations."
"Please stop apologizing when you have nothing to apologize for."
"Well, I'll stop when you do, because you have nothing to apologize for either." He sighed and then nodded.
"I guess that's the fairest solution." He raised his glass to her. "You're right once again, Mrs. Crawley." She raised her glass too.
"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson, I'm glad you agree." They grinned slightly before each taking a sip of water. "So things are alright between us again? Or I guess I'd like to ask, if we can go back to the way things were between us before the war, when we actually got along quite nicely." She shook her head not wanting him to misunderstand. "Not that things haven't been fine between us after the war."
"Except for when, I've rolled my eyes at you." She chuckled.
"Yes, and except for when I've interfered too much." He chuckled too. "But in all seriousness, do you think we could get our friendship back on track?" He blinked.
"Friendship?" Her smile faded, and she started to feel a little embarrassed.
"Well, I've always considered you my friend. But if it makes you uncomfortable, or that you don't think of me as that, it's perfectly understandable."
"No, no, no. It doesn't make me uncomfortable at all." She looked at him again and saw the honesty behind his words. "I just suppose I never quite knew how to describe us."
"So would you be okay with us being friends?" He gave a soft sincere smile.
"I would like that very much." She smiled softly at him too.
"I'm glad. Well, I suppose instead of going back to what we had, I guess we should move forward and build our friendship on what we have now."
"That sounds like a very good plan."
"So with this new start, can we promise each other to be honest with one another? I'd hate for us to fall back into our old ways, if we keep hiding things." He nodded.
"I think that's an excellent way to start."
"So you'll remember to tell me, if I annoy you or interfere too much?" He grinned.
"I will as long as you promise to do the same." She shrugged.
"Well, you haven't done anything in the past, so I don't think you'll do anything in the future. But I'll make sure to tell you." He smiled.
"I'm glad." He looked down at their food. "Perhaps we should finish eating before the food goes completely cold."
"Good idea."
"There's apple crumble for dessert, but we can have that with tea in the sitting room."
"You made crumble too?" He grinned shaking his head.
"No. Mrs. Brown made an extra for me to take home yesterday." She grinned too.
"Ah yes, I remember you were always looking forward to the hospital serving apple crumble with luncheon every Tuesday." He just shrugged giving her a boyish grin that she couldn't help but chuckle at. "Well, if you think you can spare it, I'll be looking forward to it." He gave her a kind smile.
"You're the only one, I would share it with."
Feeling that she started to blush a little, she quickly just gave him a short smile and returned to eating her dinner. Giving her one more smile, he started eating again, too.
They had spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing and getting to know each other in a whole new way. However, realizing that it was getting rather late, she knew it was time to head home. She knew he had to be up early, and she would hate for Mrs. Bird to get worried, if she ended up staying for much longer. Even if she were in bed sleeping by now, Isobel knew that Mrs. Bird would probably still not sleep too soundly without having heard her coming home.
She looked at him smiling a little regrettably.
"I'm having a wonderful time, but I feel that I must be heading home. You'll need a good night's sleep in order to be ready for work tomorrow, and I myself need to go to York in the morning. Besides that, I know Mrs. Bird won't sleep completely soundly until she's heard that I've returned."
"Oh yes, yes, of course. I haven't meant to keep you."
"You haven't. As I said, I've had a wonderful time. Thank you. And thank you for coming to York to get me out. I know I wasn't very thankful to you, when you first arrived, but I really do appreciate you coming to my rescue." He returned the warm smile, she was giving him.
"You're welcome. And I'm pleased you've had a wonderful time. So did I."
"Then we must do this again some time. Well, without the being arrested part." He chuckled along with her.
"Yes, probably best to leave that out." She was about to take out the tray, when he stopped her. "No just leave that there. I'll sort it out later."
"Are you sure? It's really no trouble." He smiled and nodded.
"Yes, quite sure." She smiled back.
"Well, alright then. I'll just go put my coat on and get my things."
"Okay."
He nodded and as she walked over to get her coat, which had been brought in from the outside to make sure it was warm, and then proceeded out the door, he went around the room blowing out the candles.
When he came out into the hallway, she was putting on her hat looking herself in the mirror. But when he grabbed his own coat and put it on, she turned around and looked at him.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm walking your home."
"But I thought the whole point of me coming here was so that I could leave, when it was dark and no one could see me." He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement.
"The whole point?" She sighed and shook her head.
"No, of course not the whole point. But there's no reason for you to leave the comfort of your warm home at this hour."
"Well, actually there is." At her confusion, he went on. "You don't think I'll let you walk the streets alone at night after what happened in York, do you? Who knows what you might be up to, if you're left on your own." At her un-amused glare he laughed at first, but then smiled at her kindly. "I'll feel better knowing that you arrived home safely, and we can take the back paths so no one will see us. Not that I assume anyone will be out at this hour." She sighed and then smiled admitting defeat.
"Alright then."
Once they had finished getting dressed, they stepped outside and after locking up, he reached for the package that held her clothes.
"Here, let me carry that for you." She shook her head.
"No, there's no need to do that. It's not heavy."
"I know, but I want to." Not quite knowing what to make of it, but deciding he was probably just being polite and a gentleman, she gave him the package.
"Thank you." Shaking off her compliment, they started heading for Crawley House.
They spent the walk quietly talking and laughing. But before long they made their familiar walk through the cemetery, and moments later they were standing in front of Crawley House. Isobel noticed that the house was dark, which she was happy about.
"Well, here we are. Crawley House. And you're back safe and sound." She turned to look at him reaching for the package, which he handed back to her.
"Yes, and that's thanks to you. And really thank you for everything you did for me today. I can't thank you enough. If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to tell me."
"Well, there is one thing you can do for me." She smiled at him.
"Yes and what is that?" He gave her a soft smile in return and spoke with the same softness.
"In the future should you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, or need help with anything, will you please call me and let me help you?" She blinked at his request and was speechless. "I know you always take care of everyone else, and always help out the ones that are in need. But you have to remember to ask for help yourself, if you're ever in need of it. I know that you're a proud person, and I admire that, but there's absolutely no wrong in asking for help. And if you feel that you have no one to turn to for help, I hope that you know that you can always ask me. Just call me at any time during the day, night, and year, and if I can I'll come straight to you and help, and I'll never tell anyone."
For the second time in just a few hours, she was nearly close to crying by the effect his words were having on her. She swallowed hard a few times, and had to bite her lip a little harder to prevent herself from crying. Taking a deep breath she finally gave him a big smile.
"I guess since I asked you to be honest with me, it's only right that I be honest with you."
"So in the future you'll make sure to call, and you'll allow me to help you?"
"Yes, I will. Thank you for wanting to do that." He smiled.
"That's what you get, when you've got a friend."
His smile got bigger as he got a big smile in return.
"Yes, you're right about that."
They stood just looking at each other for a few moments feeling the love that they felt for the other person, but not knowing that it was reciprocated. Not wanting to give himself away, Richard blinked and shook his head looking quickly away, before looking at her again smiling.
"Well, I should let you go inside. It's too cold out here." She nodded.
"Yes, of course. I mustn't keep you here any longer, when you still have a long way home."
"It's quite alright. But it would probably be best, if we both got some sleep." She nodded in agreement. "Goodnight, Mrs. Crawley."
"Goodnight, Dr. Clarkson." He nodded at her and turned to leave, when she quietly called out to him. "Dr. Clarkson?" He turned around to look at her again.
"Yes?"
"I'm still going to continue my work in York, but it's doesn't take up all of my time. Do you think, given our new friendship and all, that perhaps I could start working at the hospital again? Feel free to say no, if you think it'll be too much or if I'll be too much of a bother." He smiled at her warmly.
"You would be no bother at all. In fact, I would gladly welcome you back to the hospital. And I would very much like to work with you again." She smiled back at him.
"I'm glad to hear it. In that case, I'll stop by Friday, and we can work out a schedule. That's if you have the time then?"
"I do. And if you have time at 3.00, we can have tea." She grinned.
"Which, if I remember correctly, is also right in time for Mrs. Brown to serve scones." He chuckled.
"Yes, it is." They chuckled together a little more and then she nodded with a smile.
"It's a deal then." He nodded in affirmation. "Goodnight, Dr. Clarkson."
"Goodnight, Mrs. Crawley."
He turned around and headed back home. All the way home he was smiling at their newfound friendship and closeness, and the fact that he would be working with her at the hospital again.
She headed inside the house and smiled. As she was making her way up the stairs, she was smiling at their newfound friendship and closeness, and the fact that she would be working with him at the hospital again.
And as they both got into their beds, they closed their eyes and thought of each other.
The End.