Elsie watches out the backdoor as the last of the hallboys trots up the drive towards the village. She's been sending her "chicks" home for Mothering Sunday for twenty years, she should be used to it by now. That feeling of emptiness, empty house, empty table, empty heart. Nothing to be done about it at this stage of life. Taking a deep breath & pulling her shawl tighter against the cold March wind blowing through the courtyard, she turns & closes the door firmly behind her. What happens next?
The click of the latch snapping shut breaks Elsie from her reverie. "Honestly, silly woman" she chides herself, a few rogue tears threatening to fall. "Now is not the time for fanciful sentiment. You have no claim to those children, no, those adults; your feelings towards them should be nothing but professional…"
She tells herself the same thing every year- a futile effort to quash her feelings, but truth be told, it was only getting harder to let them go. She remembers something Charles had once said- "They're all the family I've got." Though she had dismissed his words at the time, she feels their truth now, and a couple of tears escape.
"That's the last of them then?" Elsie starts at hearing the familiar rumbling baritone close behind her. She had thought she was alone, but apparently not. It comforts her somewhat, knowing he is there.
Drying her eyes quickly, she turns to face him. "Yes, Mr Carson. That's the last of them." she says as brightly as she could manage. Elsie inspects his face, wondering how long he has been watching her. It would not do to have Charles think her soppy and weak. She'd never hear the end of it.
Upon inspection, Elsie sees what she always does; her strong, pressed Butler with the strong, pressed countenance. And the eyebrows whose expressiveness never failed to make her chuckle. But as he speaks, some of that strength seems to fade, replaced by something else…
"Mrs Hughes… Elsie…" he begins carefully. He has never used her Christian name before, at least, not out loud. He likes the way it feels. After a pause, he continues. "I understand how difficult it is for you to let them all go like this, and I'm afraid I may have done or said things in the past that made you feel I scorned your sentiment." Elsie chuckles inwardly, remembering what he had said to her last Mother's Day. A few glasses of wine in the evening had been missed over that particular comment!
Charles reaches out his hand and places it gently on Elsie's shoulder, something he has never dared do before. She is surprised at his gesture but doesn't reject him. Not when he looks as adorable as he does now. Like a repentant puppy, she thinks.
He continues… "I know I have done things that have upset you in the past, and I just want you to know that I am sorry. I value your opinion and approval more than anybody else I know, and I would hate it if I caused you any pain."
Elsie is truly touched by this; he is so truthful and sweet, she loves him so. The tears she has been fighting back since the morning begin to fall in earnest now, making little tracks down her nose and cheeks. Charles relinquishes his gentle grip on her should as he takes a step back from his weeping Housekeeper. "What… what have I said to upset her now? Why is she crying?" he thinks, worried confusion spreading across his brow.
Seeing he is flustered, Elsie, now smiling, steps towards him once more and places a hand tenderly on Charles' cheek, his troubled looks melting away under her touch. "Am I forgiven then?" he asks, tentatively. He would never take anything for granted, not with this wonderful woman. He needed to know.
Curling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, Elsie pulls his lips to hers, kissing him slowly and fully, the last of her tears now mingling with his fresh ones. She would leave him in no doubt, not now or ever again. Slowly pulling away, Elsie rests her head on her Butler's chest, feeling his heart flutter in time with hers.
"Yes, Charles." She smiles, "You are."
