A/N: Since I'm not allowed to have lists as chapters, the cast list will be posted on my profile.
...
April 1912
...
The sun rose behind Downton Abbey, a great and splendid house in a great and splendid park. Sp secure does it appear, that it seems as if the way of it represents will last another thousand years.
...
There was a sharp knock at the door.
"Six o'clock," Lindsay called.
"Thank you, Lindsay," Katie called back.
Katie looked across at the other body in the bed next to her.
"Bridgette?" Katie asked.
Bridgette sat up.
"Kust once in my life, I'd like to sleep until I woke up natural," Gwen commented.
Gwen groaned and lied back, eyes clothes.
...
Lindsay the scullery maid is taking out the clinker. Leshawna Patmore, the cook, comes in and ties on her apron.
"Is your fire still in?" Leshawna asked.
"Yes, Leshawna," said Lindsay.
"My, my, will wonders never cease," said Leshawna. "Have you laid the servants' hall breakfast."
"Yes, Leshawna."
"And finished blacking that stove?"
"Yes, Leshawna."
"What about the fires?"
"All lit, Leshawna."
"I suppose you woke them?"
"I don't think so."
"Then take your basket and get started on the fires on the ground floor."
Lindsay got to her feet and lifted the heavy basket.
...
Lindsay came up the grim kitchen staircase and pushed open the door. Beyond is a different world, with lights from a high glass domeplaying on the pictures in their gilt frames, on the Turkey carpets, on the rich, shining wood of the furniture and gleaming floor. Lindsay crossed the great hall into the small library. She checked the fire. It hadn't been lit, so she moved into the main library, vast, gilded and splendid. The first footman, Scott, has just finished opening up the shutters and passed her without a word, as she kneeled and glumly started to brushouy the grate.
Scott went into the richly furnished dining room. He opened the shutters as his junior, Tyler, came in with a tray.
"Where have you been?" Scott asked.
"I'm not late, am I?" Tyler replied.
"You're late when I say your late," Scott said.
...
Bridgette and Katie were in the drawing room. They opened the curtains and the shutters. Bridgette turned.
"Lindsay?" Bridgette asked. "Whatever are you doing there, crouching in the dark?"
The wretchdd Lindsay was bent over the fire grate.
"You weren't her and I didn't like to touch the curtains with my dirty hands," Lindsay explained.
"Quite right, too," said Katie.
"Why didn't you put the lights on?" Bridgette asked.
"I dursen't," said Lindsay.
"It's electricity, not the devil's handiwork," said Katie. "You'll have to get used to it sooner or later.
"At skelton Park, they've even got it in the kitchens," said Bridgette.
"What for?" Lindsay asked.
And the maids, so crisp and clean in their outfits, plumped the cushions and dusted and tidied and made the kitchen maid, still hard as work in the ashes, feel very small indeed.
...
In the downstairs passage, the august figure of Beth, the housekeeper, walked down the passage in her black dress, keyes at her belt. She paused by an open door and went in. It was the dining room.
The fire was alight. Tyler was finishing the table while Scott set out the dish holders on the sideboard and fitted their oil lampso. Beth stood for a moment.
"It's musty in here," said Beth. "Open a window."
Scott stared at her.
"It's all right, Scott," said Beth. "I'm not countermanding DJ's orders. I suppose I can ask for a window to be opened without your calling the police."
Scott was not convinced but went to open the window.
"Tyler, go and tell DJ that breakfast is ready," Beth ordered.
...
DJ, the butler, sat in his magnificence in his pantry. He wore an apron for his early duties. The silver safe is open nearby and three candlesticks are on his table. Tyler knocked at his door.
"Breakfast is ready, DJ," said Tyler.
"Ah, Tyler," said DJ. "Any papers yet?"
"They're late," said Tyler.
"They certainly are," said DJ. "Get the board out so you can do them as soon as they're here."
Tyler opened the cupboard and took out a blackened ironing board which he set up. An iron was heating on the grate.
"Do you know what's happened to the fourth Lamrie candlestick?" DJ asked.
"His lordship took one up with him," said Tyler. "He went straight from the dining room to bed."
"Did he, indeed?" DJ asked. "I'm trusting you to fetch it back when he's out of his rooms. Why didn't Scott tell me last night."
"He thought it didn't matter," said Tyler.
"Everything matters, Tyler," said DJ. "Remember that or you'll never make first footman. Never mind butler."
"Yes, DJ," said Tyler.
...
In the drawing room, the maids were finishing up as Beth looked in.
"Is the morning room tidy?" Beth asked.
"Yes, Beth," said Bridgette.
"Good," said Beth. "Iwant the dining room given a proper going over today. You can do it after they've had their breakfast."
She caught sight of Lindsay, still bent over the grate.
"Heavens, girl," said Beth. "You're building a fire, not inventing it. How many have you done?"
"This is my last one 'til they come downstairs," said Lindsay.
"Very well, said Beth. "Now go back to the kitchens before anyone sees you.
Lindsay gathered her things and scuttled out.
...
The newspaper boy was cycling down the drive towards the house, his satchel slung over his shoulder. As he approached the entrance, a lovely young face was looking out.
...
In a bedroom upstairs, Lady Courtney Crawley, twenty-one, was the family beauty. Lazily, she turned away from the window in her luxurious chamber. A fire crackled merrily in the grate. She walked to the bed and pulled at the bell rope.
...
In the servants hall, the whole household was at breakfast, as a bell rung.
"And they're off," Scott commented.
"No rest for the wicked," Beth said.
She glanced up at a line of bells. So does Leshawna.
"Lady Courtney," said Beth. "Are the tea trays ready?"
There was a constant sense of small rivalries. Bridgette got up.
"All ready, Leshawna," she said. "If the water's boiled. Could you give us a hand to take the other two up."
A lady's maid named Heather, in a black dress with no apron, snorted.
"I've got her ladyship's to carry," said Heather.
"I'll help," said Katie.
She wenr too as there was a noise at the back door.
"The papers," said DJ. "At last. Tyler."
Williem went and opened the back door and the labrador, Pharoh, cam in. The paperboy was just getting off his bike.
"You're late," Tyler said.
"I know," said the paper boy. "But..."
"But what?" Tyler asked.
"You'll see," said the paper boy.
And he was gone. Tyler, puzzled, went back in. He went to DJ's pantry and laid the newspaper out on the filthy board and began to iron the paper. DJ looked in.
"Do the Times first," said DJ. "He only reads that at breakfast. And the Sketch for her ladyship. You can manage the others later, if need be.
He walked away as Tyler turned the page. He was stunned.
DJ walked back to the meal table.
"Why are their papers ironed?" Lindsay asked.
"What's it to you?" Leshawna asked.
"To dry the ink, silly," said Heather. "We wouldn't want his lordship to have hands as black as yours."
She got up and left as another bell runf on the board above their heads. And another. And another. And another.
"DJ," Tyler said.
He was standingholding the looked around.
"I think you ought to see this," Tyler continued.
...
In the kitchen, the room was bustling. Leshawna was putting eggs and bacon into some chafing dishes. Beth was with her.
"I can't make myself believe it," said Beth.
"Me neither," said Leshawna.
Scott looked around the door.
"His lordship's dressed.
This immediately increased tension.
"Tyler!" Leshawna called. "Please stop talking and take this tray. And mind the burners are still lit."
"Yes, Leshawna," said Tyler,
He picked up the laden tray and. Scott questioned him.
"Is it really true?"
"'fraid so," said Tyler.
Scott shared this with the cook who shakes her head.
"Nothing in life is sure," said Leshawna.
...
In the dining room, DJ looked at his watch as Tyler hurried in. On the sideboard, the burners beneath the dish have been lit. Tyler placed the silver dishes on them.
"You're cutting it fine," said DJ.
"Yes, DJ," said Tyler.
...
A door opened. Chris walked out of the dressing room. With a growl of delight, Pharoh bounds over to bid his master good morning, and to follow him. Chris, Earl of Grantham, handsome and clever, but his life isn't as uncomplicated as one might think. He walked along the gallery and on down to the massive staircase into the great hall. He went to the dining room.
In the dining room, DJ stood alone by the sideboard.
"Good morning, DJ," said Chirs.
"Good morning m'lord," said DJ.
"Is it true," Chris asked. "What they're saying?"
"I believe so, m'lord," said DJ.
Chris took a plate. Watched by DJ, he lifted the lids and helped himself to breakfast.
"I'm afraid we'll know some people on it," said Chris. "Lady Rothes for one. We only saw hwe a few weeks ago. I don't suppose there are lists of survivors, yet?"
"I understand most of the ladies were taken of in time," said DJ.
"You mean the ladies in first class?" Chris said.
He looked at the butler who acknowledges this. Chris sat and shook open the paper. On the third page, there is a picture of the familiar four-funnelled liner, Titanic.
Courtney entered with her sister Anne Maria, twenty. The upstairs echo of the rivalry between the servants, is the relationship between Courtney and Anne Maria.
"When Bridgette told me, I thought she must have dreamed it," said Anne Maria.
"Do we know anyone on board?" Courtney asked.
She went to help herself to breakfast. Anne Maria joined her.
"Your mother knows the Astors - at least she know him," said Chris. "And we dined with Lady Rothes last month. There are bound to be more."
"I thought it was supposed to be unsinkable," Anne Maria commented.
"Every mountain is unclimbable 'til someone climbs it," said Chris. "Therefore ever ship is unsinkable until someone sinks it."
The door opened again. This time it is, his youngest, Lady Gwen, seventeen, who came in with an envelope."
"Good morning, Papa," said Gwen.
He nodded, pointing at the yellow square.
"What's that?" Chris asked.
"Just arrived," said Gwen. "A telegram. I told him to wait, in case there's an answer.
Chris took it, slit it open and read. He was quite still dor a moment. then stood abruptly and left the room. The girls stare at their fathe's unfinished plate.
...
Chris went to the bedroom passage. As he appeared, a door opened. Heather came out.
"Is her ladyship awake?" Chris asked.
"Yes, m'lord," said Heather. "I'm just going to take in her breakfast."
Chris gently knocked , speaking as he did so.
"May I come in?"
...
Blainley, Countess of Grantham, is in bed. she's pretty, in her fourties, add American. She was reading the paper and looked up.
"Did J. J. Astor get off?" Blainley asked. "Of course that new wife of his is bound to have been rescued."
"I've had a telegram from George Murray," said Chris. "One of his partners is in New York."
"Yes?" Blainley asked.
"Appearently James and Patrick were on board," said Chris.
That was astonishing. Terrible. She put down the paper.
"What?" Blainley asked. "They can't have been. They weren't goin 'til May."
"Then they changed their plans," said Chris. "They're definetly on the passenger list."
Blainley was aghast. With a knock, Heather entered carrying a tray. She placed it across Blainley's legs while Blainley and Chris stared at each other.
"But surely they must have been picked up?" Blainley said.
"Doesn't look like it," said Chris.
"What?" Blainley gasped. "Both of them?"
A thought occured to her.
"You must tell Courtney. She can't hear it from anyone other than you."