A Different Kind of Medicine
He just didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on it. He didn't have a fever, his stomach felt fine, he wasn't sneezing or coughing. He just didn't feel right. He didn't feel like himself. He didn't feel like a butler should feel. How Carson should feel.
It had been not long now since he had stepped down from full time butler-ship. Wine orders and helping out with larger events were still within his duties, but Mr. Barrow was getting better and better at all of this with each passing day.
He spent just six hours a day at the Abbey, and even these hours were being adjusted every few weeks. Soon, he would no longer have a presence there on a daily basis. Just next week, the hours were dropping to four a day. Four a day during Mrs. Hughes' working day, that is. When she retires next summer, he knows that neither will be there at all, save for the events that they will be invited to as guests.
And, so, here he was, barely into his six hours and feeling quite useless. Mr. Barrow had things well in hand today and there didn't seem to be much for him to do at the moment. His pantry had been given over to the new butler some time ago, and so he spent his days there sharing his wife's office. He wasn't always in there, but when he had down time, and there was no training aspect or special event planning to be involved with, he hunkered down in her office.
She tried to pop in periodically. Some days he saw her with great frequency; yet, others he often spent several hours at a time alone, reading or just pondering this new phase of life.
He seemed not quite himself when they both walked over early in the morning from the cottage. He made small talk, but she knew that it might turn out to be one of 'those' days. He'd had them lately; days where he wasn't physically ill, but just not feeling quite right. 'Out of sorts' was the best he could do when trying to describe it to her.
She knew what it was. He couldn't, or wouldn't, quite acknowledge it, but she knew. She knew that a part of him felt adrift somewhere. He'd lost his anchor. He would be the first to say that SHE was his anchor, yet she knew that a lifetime of service had all but vanished recently, and he was struggling to find his right place amidst the changes.
After dealing with the upstairs maids and sorting out the issue of missing sheets, she smiled at Mrs. Patmore on her way into her sitting room. She knew she had about twenty minutes to spare before duty called again and wanted to spend it with her man. She knew he'd be glad to see her and so opened the door with a song in her heart and a huge smile on her face.
What she saw just about broke her heart. Here he was, with his back to her, slumped over in her chair with his head down and his face in his hands. He did not even acknowledge her. He had to have heard her footsteps and no one but she would have opened the door without knocking. Not anymore, at least. Not since, well…they married and asked for that measure of privacy.
He said nothing. He didn't turn around. "Whatever is wrong, my love?", she asked, pulling over her other chair so that she could touch him, hug him, at least kiss him on the cheek. He had no answer. He just raised his face from his hands and looked at her. Those sad, puppy dog eyes about broke her heart.
After a bit of prodding, she came to understand that today was indeed one of 'those' days. A day in which he felt particularly lost, particularly useless. What was the point, he asked, of him even being there?
"What you need is a good dose of medicine!", she exclaimed as she rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I'm NOT ill. I have no need of medicine!", he grumbled. "Oh, my love, there is more than one kind of medicine, depending on what ails you. I've got to get on now, but I'll be back shortly to check on you. Did you bring your book from your nightstand? You could do a bit of reading, perhaps?" He muttered something she couldn't quite catch while she gave his shoulder a pat and turned to head upstairs.
She entered the nursery to find George, Marigold and Sybbie playing together with a basket of dress-up clothes. She wasn't quite sure who they were pretending to be, but the sound of them talking in squeaky, excited voices brought a giant smile to her face.
"Nanny, I wonder if I might borrow these three treasures for just a bit." I've a bit of a situation downstairs that I think they just might be able to help me with."
"Oooohhh….Mrs. Hughes! What is it? May we, Nanny? May we go help Mrs. Hughes?" Secretly, Nanny was relieved to have a bit of a break, so she gave permission quite readily.
Before she took the three children downstairs, Mrs. Hughes explained that Mr. Carson was feeling out of sorts and needed some cheering up. Did he need a powder, George asked. Could I carry it, Marigold wondered. Should we bring Nanny's thermometer or spoon for his medicine, Sybbie wondered.
Mrs. Hughes said that, no, he didn't really need that kind of medicine. He just needed some 'cheering up' medicine. Where do we get that, they asked. Do we have that here in the nursery, George wondered.
"No, my dears. Actually, the medicine I had in mind is YOU! " And she went on to explain that sometimes, it's our heart that doesn't feel well, it's just a sadness that won't seem to go away and often, just a dose of the right Cheering Up medicine is all that's needed to put a smile back on the patient's face.
Well, the three children were so excited to be Mr. Carson's medicine, they about fell over each other trying to follow Mrs. Hughes out of the nursery. They were quite the sight, dancing and skipping down the corridors and stairs, led by the housekeeper.
They stopped by the kitchen on their way and politely asked if they could take a plate of Mr. Carson's favorite biscuits with them. George, Sybbie and Marigold were all to be medicine for Mr. Carson, they told Mrs. Patmore, and medicine always tastes better with biscuits!
The housekeeper and the cook exchanged smiles as Mrs. Patmore counted out enough biscuits for the patient as well as his caregivers and set them on a platter. "Yes, Miss Marigold, you may carry the plate. Careful, now; it's quite full!" she said, as she handed the treats over to Marigold.
Throwing all formality out the window, the three children burst through the door of Mrs. Hughes sitting room to find Mr. Carson with a book in his lap, but staring absent-mindedly at a few picture frames on his wife's desk.
He about dropped the book while he jumped up, asking if anything was the matter. Was there anything he could be of help with, he asked. "Oh, no, Mr. Carson. We're all fine. Everyone is fine. Well, except you.", said George.
"What?! I'm fine. You've no need to help me with anything, my wee ones.", he responded.
"Well, that's not what Mrs. Hughes said. And she should know because you're MARRIED now, and married people always know if the other one is alright or not! And Mrs. Hughes said you are not okay and you need some cheering up medicine!", exclaimed Sybbie.
"Cheering up medicine?" asked Mr. Carson (finally getting an inkling to where this visit was headed). "Is that a powder I need? Did you bring a powder and some water for me? You didn't bring any of that horrible tasting stuff, did you? The kind I need to take from a spoon?"
Not to let on, but he was already well on his way to being cheered up. The three children laughed and giggled and then Marigold held out the plate, saying "NO! This is GOOD medicine! Look…biscuits! Mrs. Hughes said that we will all feel cheerier after a few biscuits." Sybbie added, "But you need the most cheering up, so you get extra biscuits!"
Well, how could he argue with that?
Nanny must have enjoyed her reprieve, because the children stayed well over an hour with Mr. Carson that morning. Mrs. Hughes told them that she had some upstairs duties to attend to, but she would be back to fetch them before too long.
There was lots of fun to be had in Mrs. Hughes' sitting room that morning…they chatted about what they had been doing up in the nursery, they read a few stories from a stash of books that Mrs. Hughes kept for just this occasion and Mr. Carson (shhh…he told the children…don't tell Mrs. Hughes) even regaled them with a bit of magic and fun from his long ago days on the stage.
There was a bit of seriousness thrown in for good measure. Sybbie recalled her papa telling her that Mr. Carson would come upstairs on occasion and walk her around when she was feeling out of sorts-not sick-just not quite right. And Matthew told him of Mama's stories to him about Mr. Carson's hugs and kind words when she was feeling down and needed some comfort and cheering up.
All in all, it was just the medicine that the butler needed to put things straight again. Upon Mrs. Hughes' return, he did remind them all that medicine is best effective when administered on a regular basis so the housekeeper promised everyone that she would see if Nanny would be amenable to them visiting again later that afternoon, perhaps for tea and a another plate of treats.
Cheers went up all around and, out in the kitchen, Mrs. Patmore grinned as she checked her diminishing biscuit supply.