Disclaimer: The characters described in this story were created by and are the property of Kazuo Ishiguro. I'm not making any money out of this.

This story is less sad and a bit more whimsical than "Catherine". I wrote it with Stevens as first person narrator and I tried to stay as close to how he is in the novel as possible (since this is fanfic I made him a little bit less repressed but not much).

Again I'd like to thank Zircon for correcting my English and giving valuable suggestions. All errors are, of course, my own.

The Dress

I had a rather unusual sight today. A sight which has somehow stayed in my mind and preoccupied me more than it probably merits.

It was a quiet day until the early afternoon when Doris rushed into my pantry, visibly excited.

"Mr Stevens, Cook has fallen down a ladder and hurt her foot! She thinks it might be broken."

I immediately followed Doris to the kitchen where I found that, indeed, Mrs Jennings had fallen and either sprained or even broken her ankle. She was certainly in a lot of pain. I telephoned the doctor, who promised to come as soon as possible, and then set out to look for Miss Kenton. It was her day off but I knew that she would want to be informed.

I went to her parlour but found it empty. That was rather unusual. Miss Kenton had not told me that she would be going to the village, and the weather was far too wet and dreary even for her to go on one of her walks. Also, I had not seen her walking in the grounds through one of the windows. And when she doesn't go out on her days off, she usually spends them in her parlour, reading or mending or writing letters. So I found myself at a bit of a loss. In the end I decided there was nothing for it but to check her private room. I was not keen on that, of course. I have only called on her there a very few times in all those years, but after what had happened to Mrs Jennings it was imperative that the housekeeper be informed of such a disruption to the orderly running of the house.

When I knocked at Miss Kenton's door there was no reaction but a low muffled noise. This was most strange, and after some seconds of hesitation I knocked again and called out, "Miss Kenton, I am very sorry to disturb you, but there has been an accident."

A few moments later the door was opened rather reluctantly. And as soon as I saw Miss Kenton I could well understand why.

She was wearing a dress.

Now that was obviously nothing unusual. It was the nature of the dress which was extraordinary, for it was an expensive evening gown, and a rather old one at that. I'm by no means an expert on women's fashion, but I'd say it belonged to the Edwardian period, in the years just before the Great War, and thus must have been well over twenty years old. The dress was simple and yet very elegant, made of a shimmering dark red cloth with elaborate embroidery at the neckline and the waist. The colour gave an extraordinary shine to Miss Kenton's fair skin. And there was rather more of her skin on display than I had ever expected to see in my life. Not that the dress was frivolous, not at all, but as these dresses go it was, of course, cut in a certain way, which in this case meant that the neckline was oval and rather wide, and exposed most of Miss Kenton's shoulders.

I quickly glanced up but when I looked into her face I found that it had changed, too. Usually Miss Kenton always wears a ribbon to hold back her hair. A very sensible and becoming hairstyle, I might add. But now she had removed the ribbon and her hair was tumbling down all around her face and onto her bare shoulders in a somewhat distracting manner.

In spite of this most unusual appearance I was able to catch myself after a few seconds. When I met her eyes I found that Miss Kenton seemed rather flustered, but she braced herself at once, raised her chin in the defiant way I know so well and asked, "Well, Mr Stevens? You said there's been an accident?"

I decided not to comment on her appearance and informed her of Cook's mishap. Immediately Miss Kenton's expression changed to one of concern.

"I thought you would want to be informed," I closed my statement.

"Quite right, Mr Stevens."

"Perhaps you could come down and see after Mrs Jennings?"

"I will go to the kitchen at once," she stated.

I remained standing across her. Somehow I couldn't help my eyes flickering down to her extraordinary dress, but Miss Kenton still pretended that nothing was unusual.

"Mr Stevens," she added a little irritated, "I'll just be a few moments."

"Certainly, Miss Kenton." And I left the room.

She did join us in the kitchen after a short while, now clad in her usual attire. Her hair had also returned to its customary style. The doctor arrived half an hour later and, after a thorough examination, pronounced that Cook's ankle was merely sprained, if rather severely. After that the household settled down again, Mrs Jennings being able to delegate the preparation of dinner from a chair in the kitchen.

I didn't expect to see Miss Kenton later that evening since after all it was her day off and on these days we meet for our customary cup of cocoa only if there is something very important to discuss. So I was rather surprised when, a few minutes after nine, she knocked on the door to my pantry.

She entered rather resolutely but there was a hint of embarrassment on her face as she took her position in front of my table where I was busy working through a stack of bills.

"Mr Stevens," she began, "I think I owe you an explanation for my unusual attire today."

"Miss Kenton," I replied, leaning back in my chair, "it is none of my business what you do on your free day. As long, of course, as it does not affect the running of the house."

"Of course," she said, and her tone was somewhat wry. There was a pause then, and she looked down at the stack of bills in front of me, but eventually raised her head again and went on: "Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not in the habit of dressing up like that, playing at being a great lady...or pinching evening gowns or whatever you might have thought."

"Really Miss Kenton," I said with a small laugh, "I have not thought anything like that. In fact, I have not thought about it at all."

"Oh." This seemed to deflate her to some degree but she went on nevertheless. "Well, the fact is that the dress you saw me in was given to me by Lord Darlington. It belonged to his late wife."

"I see."

"His Lordship seems to have gone through some of his wife's possessions lately, and he decided that there was no use keeping this dress. Since it is now quite old fashioned and cannot be used as an evening gown anymore, he gave it to me. He thought I might be able to cut it up and use the cloth, for myself or for making cushions."

"Ah, I understand."

She paused and looked at me expectantly, as if she was waiting for a reaction. Now she had given her explanation there was nothing unusual in this whole business. It is perfectly normal for servants to be given and to accept clothes formerly in the possession of their employers. I myself own a number of suits which once belonged to Lord Darlington, and also a few given to me by some of his guests.

An uncomfortable silence had developed, and at last I found myself asking, "So what do you intend to do with the gown?"

Miss Kenton heaved a sigh. "I don't really know, Mr Stevens. I will undo it, I suppose. I should. There is no use in keeping such a dress. After all I will never be able to wear it." She had spoken the last words in a wistful tone and was now looking down at her hands which she had clasped in front of her. "But it's a shame to destroy such a beautiful thing." She looked up again and smiled rather self-deprecatingly. "I'm afraid today my vanity got the better of me, and that's why you found me wearing it."

"Indeed." I didn't know what else to say. Her eyes were fixed on me, in the insistent way she sometimes has. I looked out of the window, thinking I had heard the sound of rain. But it seemed I was mistaken. "Well, it is a nice dress," I said, still looking into the night. "And as I understand it, Lord Darlington has given it to you to do with it as you please. I don't think he cares what happens to it."

"Perhaps you are right, Mr Stevens. I will think about it."

I nodded, than looked back at her again, giving a significant glance to the bills in front of me.

"I will leave you to your work," she said readily enough. "Excuse me for disturbing you."

"Not at all, Miss Kenton. Good night."

"Good night, Mr Stevens."

And she turned and left my room.

I went back to the bills but found that my mind kept wandering back to the conversation I had just had, and to the sight I'd had earlier that day, of Miss Kenton clad in the evening gown. Now the reason for this is quite obvious. The question of how to handle this issue of the handed down clothes is something to which I – and I would suppose everyone in service – has given some thought. For not always is this subject as unproblematic as it is with Lord Darlington. As I told Miss Kenton, if Lord Darlington gives one of his servants some clothes, he does not oblige him or her to use them in a certain way. But there are other masters who will expect the servant to wear them, sometimes even if the size or style is quite unbecoming, or if the clothes are threadbare or old fashioned. I have to emphasize that this is never the case with Lord Darlington: the presents he makes are always in very good condition. So I really don't think Miss Kenton ought to trouble herself with any expectations his Lordship might have as to the use of the dress.

And one could in a way understand her reluctance to destroy the gown. It is, one has to admit, quite beautiful, and seems to fit her in a remarkable way. I never met Lady Darlington since she died before I came to Darlington Hall, but I have seen photographs of her, and, while I never thought about it before, she and Miss Kenton seem to be rather alike with regard to body height and figure.

Now I have thought about it a bit more there might be another reason why the whole issue has stayed in my mind so prominently. What I mean is that seeing Miss Kenton like that without warning was something of a shock. For usually she dresses of course in a very different way. And I think it was the great contrast between her customary attire and her unexpected appearance in the elegant evening gown which has somehow fixed the sight of Miss Kenton in my mind.

And if one considers it further, it was perhaps not only the mere contrast between the two styles of dressing which produced that effect. I am reminded of an occurrence some months ago, when Sir Jeffrey came to visit his Lordship and brought with him his valet Mr Benn. As it turned out, Mr Benn had worked with Miss Kenton at Stanton Lacy some years ago, and the two were quite pleased to meet again. Mr Benn seemed to think very highly of Miss Kenton, which is only understandable since he knows from firsthand experience what an excellent housekeeper she is. I remember he and I were taking a night cap in my pantry and Miss Kenton had just brought us fresh soda. When she was leaving Mr Benn was looking after her for some moments and when she had passed out of earshot he said, "Good looking woman," or something to that effect. Naturally I did not reply to this, as I am not in the habit of commenting of my fellow servants' appearance. But when one thinks about it, there is surely no point in denying that many people might call Miss Kenton 'good looking'. She never draws attention to it like other women do by dressing in a provocative way, or painting her face, or such things. No, her attire is always very modest and sensible. And so one tends not to dwell on her looks, apart from sporadic occasions when one is struck by a certain graceful movement, or by how the sunlight lights up her hair.

Anyway, as I said, her usual way of dressing does nothing to emphasise her charms. Now with the evening gown it was obviously different, as such dresses are cut to draw attention to these things. And there certainly is no harm in admitting that, indeed, Miss Kenton looked very lovely. And this naturally added to the great contrast between her usual appearance and the sight she presented to me today, and is one of the reasons why it has stayed in my mind in such a persistent way.