December 1st 1919
This year, Lady Grantham leaves the tree to the children. Violet has been complaining about her involvement for years, insisting that a Countess should never be seen climbing ladders and perching stars atop a tree, and perhaps she's right? It's hardly dignified to have one's derriere obscenely on display while groaning with the effort of stretching for the top, particularly at her age. She supposes it's that that bothers her the most. She's noticeably older now, marred by lines and wrinkles that had not been there the year before, and the lasting effects of her illness are all too obvious. Perhaps next year she'll feel stronger, but this year she feels the strain in her back, the tightness in her chest at the conclusion of even the shortest of walks, and it becomes impossible to ignore her own mortality when she's creeping ever closer to the grave.
But it doesn't quite feel the same merely watching from an archway as the Christmas tree comes slowly together, and even O'Brien seems to be entering into the festivities, draping a bauble here and there, and she knows full well how her maid feels about the Christmas season. It's hardly her favourite holiday – indeed the name Scrooge comes to mind, though those are Mrs Hughes' words, not hers – but O'Brien indulges her all the same, every year without fail. For the first time that day, Cora cannot help but smile.
There's an audible gasp as the tree lights are switched on, but O'Brien looks at her instead. There's sympathy in her eyes, and a wealth of understanding, and, as the other woman comes to stand beside her as the others cloister together beneath the gargantuan tree, Cora feels considerably less alone.
"It's a lovely tree, m'lady," she comments lightly, by way of greeting, and perhaps she sees the look on Cora's face because she quickly smirks instead, a tiny curl of her lips and a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "But I liked it better last year."
They exchange a smile, Sarah's soft and Cora's grateful, and look back to the tree that is decidedly inferior to last years in companionable silence.