I didn't planed to write a sequel but my muse is back. I'm sorry if it's kind of sad but...I just felt it this way.

1937, December 25th

Near Dublin

Catherine Branson Crawley stretched and breathed a satisfied sigh before pulling the sheets up to her nose. She turned to the window and looked at the day that was rising with a smile on her face. It was Christmas morning and it was still early so she could stay in bed as long as she wanted to. But the excitation of the coming day had taken the best on her sleep.

She would have loved to see a white Christmas but it wasn't happening this year. She was happy to be back home for holidays, happy for what this day would bring, happy to be with her family and friends. Oh, she liked to study in London so she could see Gwen, Jon, her aunts and the boys…but she always missed her home a lot, her beach and her mother.

The smell of fresh coffee came to her nose and not much more was needed to pull her out of bed. That and other things: because, Christmas day was also her birthday. And this year, she was turning twenty. Her heart filled with mixed feelings of excitation and fear for what she had to announce this day to her family, she put on her dressing gown and stepped down the stairs to the kitchen where her mother was already busy.

She watched the slim figure from the doorstep. She was wondering if her mother was ever sleeping. She could often hear her in the middle of the night, pacing the salon floor or, when she got up, she could see the light under her bedroom's door. She knew very well what was keeping her mother awake. She had known it for fourteen years now, since the day of her sixth birthday when her mother told her for the first time about her father.

And since then, the morning of Christmas day and birthday had become a ritual between the two women. This day, they were talking about him, about this man who was uniting them. And each year, Catherine learned a new anecdote, a new fact about her father's life or about his love story with her mother. Curled together, they were looking at the only picture they had and, as Sybil was remembering the man she had loved, Catherine learned to know about him.

But she had loved him as soon as she knew. And the more she learned about him, the more she had the feeling to have really known him. All the little girls are in love with their fathers one day or another and she wasn't an exception. Don't we say "My father this hero"?

Catherine slipped behind her mother and kissed her. Sybil jumped.

"Hey, good morning sweetie. Happy birthday! You're up early."

"Thanks, but Mom…you know very well I'm rather more early than late…"

Sybil smiled at her, giving her a cup of coffee.

"Yes, that's maybe the only thing you've got from me…"

Catherine Branson Crawley had been early since the day of her birth. She was born on Christmas day one month earlier than planned, she knew how to read before even starting school and she was never the last one to have a party! Catherine hugged her mother and recognized in her words the sign to start their ritual. She went to the salon with her cup and, after putting it down on the coffee table, reached for her father's picture that was waiting for her.

From the kitchen's door, Sybil watched her daughter. She looked so much like her father: the same blue eyes, the same smile, the same stubbornness. Whatever she was doing, laughing or pouting, crying or being angry, Sybil could see Tom through her. Sybil sighed. She would have like so much for things to be different…She still was having regrets for this morning of 1917, when she missed him to say goodbye as he had given her, without them knowing it, the more precious gift.

Her heart heavy like all the 25th of December since twenty years, she joined her daughter on the sofa, ready to tell her, untiringly, the story of her father and mother, or the one of two cursed lovers.

Sybil sat comfortably near her daughter and, after curling against her, started her story.

Their entire story was each time repeated, more or less in the order, with a few new things from time to time. Sybil was telling everything to her daughter now she had reached the age to understand: the good and the bad, the long talks, the fights, the joys…From the story of the harem pants to the count, from the declaration of war to her training at York, everything until that night that had changed their lives forever. She was telling the things as they happened. She didn't hide anything and she seemed to live each situation all over again.

Sybil told her again how her father had been the only man in her whole life. How they were close at Downton even when they couldn't see or talk to each other until war broke them apart definitively.

Sybil made a pause before carrying on. What she still had to say was the most difficult part for her even these days: their last night together, the only night they ever had and the goodbyes that didn't happened.

Seeing her mother hesitate, her look suddenly so far away, Catherine almost wanted to give up from hearing the end of the story. She already knew it very well although she still needed to hear it…and somewhat, she knew it was doing her mother some good to talk about it.

"And then? He came to your bedroom?"

Sybil smiled sadly at her.

"Yes, he came to my bedroom. But aren't you tired of hearing your old mother rambling about her memories?"

"Mom, please…I love to hear about daddy…and it's the only way to know him a little bit."

Sybil's heart squeezed a moment, realising that Tom would never have the opportunity to hear his daughter call him daddy.

"Please, mom, tell me again about the night when you and daddy made me."

Seeing the imploring look of her daughter, she resigned herself.

"Very well. So, it was after the party Grand papa organized for those who were leaving for war. He came to my bedroom and…"

And Sybil went on, exorcising her pain by telling her daughter about the magical night she had, and about the far less magical wake up when reality had hit hard. The man she loved, despite all his words about a future together, was leaving her. She told her how she couldn't see him later this morning before his departure. For the first time of her life, she had overslept and had missed him. He was already gone for the train station. She had struggle to forgive herself and, even if they had exchanged a few letters later, nothing could erase her pain for not having been able to hug him one last time...When she had run to the cottage to discover it empty and that she understood that it was too late, she had cried on the door step like a little girl, not bothering if someone could see her. It was finally Anna who had found her and soothed her until the tears stopped. They had become closer this day.

Then the life went on. She had thrown herself into work, doing as much shifts as she could at the hospital to forget her misery. She had received two letters from Tom, saying he was sorry to have missed her the day of his departure. But Sybil knew she was the only one responsible for that…

And then, one morning, she woke up tired and with nausea. Thinking it was because of her tiredness and the last events, she first didn't pay attention on it. Then, symptoms being persistent, she had written to Gwen who told her about the possibility of pregnancy. She couldn't believe it but she went to York to see a doctor.

She still could remember perfectly this morning of June, when she learned that Tom had given her the most beautiful of goodbyes.

Sybil stopped again and looked at her daughter with teary eyes. The most difficult part was to come and she needed her to go on. Catherine took her hand and smiled at her. Sybil took a deep breath and went on…

The feelings that went through her the day she learnt about her pregnancy would always be engraved in her. First overwhelmed by a big joy, reality had then took the best on her. What should she do? How to announce it to Tom? To her family? And how would he react? How would they react? Of course, it changed things…A little hope had then slipped in her, the hope he would come back…or that she would go to him…

But things were never as easy in Sybil Crawley's life.

The same morning she learned about her pregnancy, she had tried to fight fate and, with the help of some officers who were recovering at Downton, she called the war minister to try to reach Tom's unit.

She still had her hand on the telephone when her father had showed up at the door of the office, asking her to follow him to the library. She had followed without a word. There, all the family and servants were gathered and she knew he had bad news to share. She then felt coldness filled her heart and the little look from Anna wasn't there to reassure her.

"I just receive a call from the army", he had begun.

And she immediately knew that something happened to him.

"And he told you about daddy."

Her daughter's voice brought Sybil back to reality. She was still, a few seconds ago, in Downton's library, living again the announcement that would change her life. She smiled at her sadly.

"Yes, your father was dead…hit by a bullet…"

"Wanting to protect a child from the enemy", added Catherine.

"Yes", said Sybil, thinking tenderly of Tom.

"He saved his life."

"Yes…and he lost his..."

The two women stayed silent for a moment.

"He never knew for me. Although…"

It's right, I didn't have time to break the news to him. He died the day I learned about you, my little miracle. But somewhere, he had to feel it…otherwise, he wouldn't have gone through all this process to give you his name…"

"Tell me again what the letter said, please mommy."

"I don't remember it very well", lied Sybil, "but it said that if I had a child, he was claiming it as his if I ever was in a delicate situation. He also bequeathed to him or her all his savings and possessions. And he also said some…paternal things in it…"

"It's too bad that he wrote it to grand-mama and that she had lost this letter. I would have loved to read it."

"Speaking of it…"

In front of the wide eyes of her daughter, Sybil couldn't contain a chuckle.

"When your grand-mother died last summer, I made some cleaning in her papers…and I found it", she said, pulling out proudly a piece of paper from her dressing gown.

She gave it to her stunned daughter. Catherine took it with a trembling hand and unfolded it. She read it briefly and refolded it hastily.

"I…I'll read it later", she said, obviously overwhelmed.

She looked at her mother visibly as moved as her and threw herself in her arms.

"Oh, Mama!" Said Catherine in a sob.

Sybil hugged her daughter, fighting herself the tears that were threatening to flow from her eyes. Never did she cry for Tom in front of her daughter and today wouldn't certainly be the day to begin. As she was trying to comfort her, Sybil thought back at Tom's funeral. He had wished to be buried in Ireland and she had made the trip. That day, she had announced her pregnancy to Tom's mother then, a few days later, to her own stunned parents. Tom's mother had been thrilled with the news that seemed to give her a second breath. This day, she immediately understood that she had earned a family: Tom had given her a new family. And surprise had gone on later when a lawyer contacted her for Tom's reading will. Without knowing a thing, he had everything covered in the eventuality of…He even left a letter to Lady Grantham…and that's probably thanks to him that her family didn't repudiate her after learning about her condition. As if, deep inside, he knew he wouldn't come back. Like, deep inside, Sybil felt it that morning.

But she still had something to give to her daughter…

When Catherine's sobs had calmed down, she gave her a tissue. The young woman blown her nose noisily and it made her mother laugh.

"Forgive me, mommy. I shouldn't have reacted this way. I know that it is hard for you too and…"

"Don't worry, Cathy. The other way would have worried me. And I'm happy you love your father so much…I…"

Suddenly nervous and more moved than ever, Sybil got up and went to the desk. She pulled out a little box from one of the drawers and get back to her daughter.

"Your father also left this. In fact, he had it with him that night but, for some reason, didn't give it to me…"

Sybil looked away a brief instant before going on.

"Anyway…I think you should have it now. I'm sure you'll have good use of it."

Sybil added her last sentence with some mischievousness back in her voice and eyes. Catherine, still wordless, reached for the box. Certainly, this day was beginning very highly! She opened it, her mouth forming an « O » after seeing the object placed there.

"Oh, mama! It's beautiful! I can't…He had bought it for you!"

"I'm sure he would be happy for you to wear it. I…I never could…"

Sybil's voice cracked but she got over it quickly.

"And I'm sure you'll wear it before tonight", she added, winking at her daughter.

Stunned, Catherine raised an eye brow to her mother. She opened her mouth to answer but Sybil interrupted her with her hand.

"You should go get ready. It's already eleven and they'll be here soon. I'm gonna go take a walk on the beach."

She took a vest then went to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulled something out from a black velvet box and hid it in her pocket. Knowing very well what her mother was up to, Catherine went to the stairs to go in her bedroom and get dressed but, Sybil's voice surprised her once again before she got out.

"Oh, and next time you phone James, close the door! I didn't want to listen but you're speaking very loudly when you're happy, sweetheart!"

And with a smile, Sybil went out to the beach, leaving a speechless Catherine at the bottom of the stairs. She knew! Her mother knew but didn't say a thing!

Catherine went up the stairs hastily. She needed to get ready then call James to tell him that her mother knew everything about their plans about the future. And if her mother knew, it was a sure thing that James's mother, Gwen, knew too. They had been seeing each other for five years now and they had decided to get engaged. Catherine had expected some arguing from her mother saying she was way too young for it. But apparently, it was the other way round. Maybe she didn't want her daughter to miss happiness like her? Catherine's stare wandered through the window and she saw the thin figure of her mother seated on the beach. She knew what she was doing. The slight shakes of her shoulders proving it. Her mother never let herself cry in front of her while talking about her father. So, every year, after their eternal ritual, she went out on the beach to cry freely her pain and love. Catherine had never wanted to interfere in this moment, respecting her grief…Her fingers squeezed her father's ring and she murmured with a steady voice: « I promiseyou, daddy, I promiseyou to be happy. »

In the meantime, on the beach, Sybil let her tears flow freely. It was the only time of the year when she indulged herself in self pity and sorrow. The rest of the time, she wanted to be strong for her daughter, for THEIR daughter. Sybil opened her hand and looked at the gold button from his chauffeur's uniform she had stolen when she was younger and that she had retrieved from the velvet box. Like her daughter, she murmured:" I think we did well with her, Tom. She's a good person. She's gonna be happy, My Love. I see you soon. I love you. »

With the back of her hand, Sybil wiped her remaining tears and went back to the house, ready to enjoy Christmas, her daughter's birthday and, who knows, maybe an engagement party. And she knew that, whatever the numbers of years she still had to live, she would someday be reunited with her Irish lover.

The end