Downton Abbey, January 1926
"Afternoon post, Mr. Carson," said Andrew as he strode into the butler's pantry and placed a stack of envelopes on the corner of Mr. Carson's desk.
"Thank you, Andrew," returned Mr. Carson, looking up from his place behind his desk.
The footman smiled, nodded, and retreated from the room.
Mr. Carson put down his pen, set aside the ledger he'd been updating, picked up the pile of post, and began sorting it: one pile for the family's correspondence, another for the staff's personal letters, and a third for household business such as bills and invoices. After the first few pieces, he came across an envelope addressed to him. The sight of it caused him to drop the rest of the items he was holding, and for a moment, he simply stared at it, dumbfounded. He recognized the sender's handwriting beyond a doubt, yet he still consulted the name on the return address to confirm the sender's identity, for this particular individual was the last person from whom he would have expected to receive correspondence.
After recovering enough of his wits to proceed, Mr. Carson seized his paper knife and slit open the envelope, having absolutely no idea what the letter inside might say. With equal measures of eagerness and trepidation, he pulled from the envelope a single piece of stationery and read the few sentences written thereon. And then he read the words again. Even after reading the letter three times, he still had no idea what to make of it. The contents of the note answered none of the burning questions swirling in his mind. Only one thing was certain: he would gladly comply with the sender's request. To that end, he tucked the letter into the breast pocket of his morning coat and rushed upstairs to find Lord Grantham, who was in the library, reading a newspaper.
"Pardon me, my lord. I hate to disturb your lordship, but it's a matter of some importance," Mr. Carson began his plea.
"No need to apologize, Carson. It's no trouble," said Lord Grantham amiably, setting aside his newspaper. But when he looked up and took in Mr. Carson's anxious expression, the earl's face showed concern. "Only you don't look quite yourself. Nothing's wrong, I hope."
"I'm … not sure, my lord. Only I received a letter this afternoon from a friend, someone whom I haven't seen in a long time … someone who apparently needs something from me, though I've no idea what."
"That sounds rather mysterious," commented his lordship.
"Indeed," agreed the butler. "I truly don't know what to expect."
"You're not in any danger, I hope. It's not that chap who turned up here asking for money, is it? Your former stage partner? He was an unsavory fellow, to say the least."
"No, my lord, it's not Mr. Grigg, though I've since reconciled with him and he seems to have mended his ways. No, it's … someone else. This friend is … erm … well, we were quite close once, and … and I should very much like to help if I'm able."
"Yes, yes, of course, by all means. But I'm not sure what this has got to do with me." Lord Grantham's face was creased in confusion.
"Well, my lord, my friend is in London and cannot travel here to see me," explained Mr. Carson. "I wonder if I might be spared for a day or two so that I can go there instead."
The earl thought for a moment. "I don't see why not. I'll ask her ladyship, just to be certain, but I doubt she'll object. It shouldn't be a problem. When do you plan to go?"
As much as Mr. Carson would have liked leave immediately, he knew that wouldn't be practical. "Well, if it's quite convenient for your lordship and her ladyship – and with your lordship's kind permission, of course – I thought I might go early next week. I don't believe there's anything planned here at Downton that will require my presence. The staff can manage in my absence for a short time. I'll make sure everything is put in order before I go."
Lord Grantham pondered only briefly before answering, "I've no objection. Next week it is. And you should stay at the house while you're there."
"That is most kind, my lord," Mr. Carson said with a small bow of his head. "I'm grateful, indeed. I shall make the necessary arrangements. Once again, I apologize for the interruption. I'll trouble your lordship no further now, but please do tell me if Lady Grantham would prefer that I stay."
His lordship smiled reassuringly. "Of course, Carson, but I'm sure she won't mind."
Mr. Carson hurried back downstairs to his pantry, closed both doors, sat down at his desk, retrieved the letter from his pocket, and studied it once more.
Dear Mr. Carson,
I hope this letter finds you well and happy. I expect you'll be surprised to hear from me after all this time, but I must write to you now, for I find myself in need of a friend … and a favor. I wonder whether you'll still consider me a friend, as I've neglected to send you even a short note since I've been gone. You'll recall that before I left, I promised to write to you once I was settled, to let you know that all was well, but I never kept that promise. For reasons that I shall soon explain if you'll allow me, I simply could not tell you then everything that I hope to say now.
Might I prevail upon you and ask for a few moments of your time to meet me? I know it's presumptuous for me to ask, and you have good reason to refuse me, but I'm relying upon your kind nature and hoping you'll forgive my prior lack of correspondence and sudden entreaty. As you must have guessed from the postmark and the return address on the envelope, I am in London. I don't know when you'll next be here in London – whether the family are planning a trip or whether Lord Grantham may send you here on business – but will you kindly inform me the next time you're coming and let me know if you can spare me some of your time? The matter I wish to discuss is better addressed in person than by letter, but my current circumstances will not allow me to travel to Downton. I'm sure you're very busy, as always, but I hope that you'll be able to slip away for a short time when next you visit the city. If you're agreeable, we can arrange to meet at a mutually convenient time and place. I would be ever so grateful.
I look forward to seeing you soon, Mr. Carson. Know that despite my long silence since we last saw each other, I think of you often.
As ever,
E. Hughes
Fearing that he might have missed some important detail, Mr. Carson read the letter twice more, searching for a clue, hoping to glean some further sliver of information. Alas, he found no hint about why Mrs. Hughes had not written to him for so long, about what she'd been doing since her departure from Downton, or about why she wanted to see him now. He would simply need to wait until their meeting for the explanation he so desperately desired. And so he withdrew from his desk drawer some writing paper and an envelope, took up his pen, and composed his reply.
Dear Mrs. Hughes,
I was ever so pleased to receive your letter, and I shall be very happy to see you – very happy, indeed. I cannot imagine what it is that I might do for you, but I am eager to hear whatever you wish to tell me. Be assured that I shall do whatever is in my power to aid you in your need, for you are, indeed, still my friend, no matter passage of time or lapse in communication.
As it happens, I shall be in London on business next week. Might I recommend that we meet at the A.B.C. tea shop on the corner of London St. and Fenchurch St.* at four o'clock on Monday afternoon? Please write back and tell me whether that is convenient for you.
It will be good to see you again. I don't mind admitting that I have wondered and worried, and I should like to assure myself that you are well.
Most sincerely yours,
C. Carson
No sooner was the letter written, signed, sealed, and addressed than Mr. Carson walked into the village and delivered it personally to Mrs. Wigan at the post office, in order that it be sent on its way as quickly as possible. Then he returned to the house and attempted to go about his business as usual. He tried to occupy his hands with his usual duties; his mind, however, churned with thoughts of Mrs. Hughes. He could scarcely concentrate enough even to accomplish a task as mindless and mundane as polishing some silver. He had no idea how he would manage to endure the next several days until his curiosity could be satisfied and his worry alleviated … or – God forbid! – amplified.
A/N *According to my research, A.B.C. tea shops were common in London at this time, and there was, in fact, an A.B.C. tea shop at the corner of London Street and Fenchurch Street. J. Lyons tea rooms or "Corner Houses," with their characteristic "Nippy" waitresses, were common also, but they were slightly more upscale. While Mr. Carson himself might be comfortable at a middle-class establishment, at this point in the story, he doesn't really know what Mrs. Hughes's situation is, so he chooses a place where he hopes she'll be comfortable. (I can't tell you how many hours I spent learning about historic tea shops in London, but the time I spent was far longer than can be good for me.)
Anyway, this is a story that I've been working on for longer than I'd care to admit. I'd been hoping to finish it or at least to be farther along before I started posting, but the story has been sitting and languishing for too long, and so I thought I'd start posting because interaction with readers usually provides good impetus for me to keep moving forward. Please let me know what you think. As I say, I'm hoping that discussion with all of you will help provide the inspiration and motivation for future chapters. While large portions are already written and I do know where we're headed, there's still plenty of work to be done. Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.
Special thanks go out to evitamockingbird, who looked this over for me and kindly indulged me by engaging in helpful discussion, and more special thanks go out to GeordieLass, who also helped me with several questions and some other speculation.