Now I'm having too much fun. Thank you all for the encouragement; I do hope you are enjoying this claustrophobic romp as much as I am! :)

As always, they aren't mine, but I sure love borrowing them!

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 3

Elsie opened her mouth to speak but was immediately silenced by a strong, sharp voice growing ever louder... and ever closer. She looked at Charles with wide eyes as they both realized who it was.

"Come here girl!" Mrs. Patmore bellowed for Daisy as she stormed her way to the store cupboard door.

"But, I really don't think we should," squeaked a very nervous Daisy. "I saw Mrs. Hughes here earlier and she'd be sure to notice if anything were to go out of place."

Neither of them had realized that Elsie had never left, and that she had since obtained a companion. How long had they been in there exactly?

Elsie let the held breath escape her lungs as she thanked the Lord above for small favors. Goodness knows how much courage it must have taken ever skittish Daisy to muster up to speak up to Mrs. Patmore. Charles managed a weak, "Good girl" as he stood firmly planted to the spot, hands still nervously clenched onto Elsie waist.

"Well she isn't here now, is she, and desperate times call for desperate measures!" Before she knew it, Mrs. Patmore had extracted a hairpin from Daisy's chignon and began to insert it into the keyhole, metal scratching upon metal.

"Dear Lord, she's picking the lock!" Elsie tersely whispered through clenched teeth. "The nerve of that woman!"

Charles's eyes shot open as he threw a hand up to cover the barrage of insults now spewing from a thoroughly annoyed, and obviously distracted, Elsie's lips. He pointed first at her, then to himself, then forcefully at the door, finally throwing his hands up in a hurried plea for an idea.

"Well they know that I was here, but you... you'll have to hide."

"And where in heaven's name do you suppose I do that, my dear? Behind the pickle jar? Or perhaps the apple basket?"

He was right. Though frantic, she couldn't help but laugh at the thought of her giant of a man trying to eclipse himself behind a tiny bag of spices.

"I fail to see the humour in this situation," he hissed as beads of perspiration began to mount on his forehead.

"I think I can manage to squeeze between the shelves and the wall, just beyond the sight line of the door," Elsie hurriedly whispered as she deftly maneuvered herself into the very uncomfortable sliver of space. "Though, I'm afraid you are going to have to put those old stage skills to use," she managed just as the door swung open revealing a highly agitated, sweaty Charles Carson to the unsuspecting kitchen staff.

Daisy's eyes went wild as her bottom lip started to quiver. She bit it furiously, expecting the worst display of disappointment she could imagine coming from Mr. Carson. Charles felt for her in that moment, realizing that she was probably far more nervous of his reaction to the scene than he was of hers. Mrs. Patmore stood her ground, though obviously startled by what she had found.

"Mrs. Patmore, would you kindly explain what you are doing pushing in to the store cupboard," he bellowed through the open door.

Now it was Mrs. Patmore's turn to be put on the spot. He had to admit that he was actually enjoying this a bit more than he had imagined, forgetting that he would most likely have to fashion his own excuse for why he, the butler, would be in the store cupboard, clearly Mrs. Hughes's domain.

Mrs. Patmore didn't miss a beat. "Mr. Carson, I really must ask that you speak to Mrs. Hughes about giving me access to this store cupboard, for once and for all. I really do need my own key. I don't think it is above me to ask as I AM the cook and should rightfully have access to the food I need to prepare." This woman was determined.

Charles heard the slight grumbling coming from his left and furiously coughed to cover up the errant noise.

"Are you alright Mr. Carson," asked a very tentative Daisy. "You should ask Mrs. Hughes for some honey with your tea tonight."

Sweet Daisy. The poor girl always did manage to get the short end of the stick, as it were. "I am quite fine Daisy. I must have inhaled a bit of dust is all."

Another small noise from the left, which he swore was laughter, elicited two more tense throat clearings from Charles. He would have to deal with her later.

"I will speak with Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore," he said to placate the woman in an effort to clear her from the doorway. "I cannot promise any action will be taken, but I will try to explain your side of things and see if we cannot come to some sort of compromise."

A jar rattled on the shelf. Good God woman, can you not see that I'm just trying to make her go away?

Mrs. Patmore, seeming satisfied with his answer, gave a small nod of her head and turned to travel back to the kitchen.

It was good, old, reliable Daisy that had to innocently ask the question.

"But what were you doing in the store cupboard, Mr. Carson?"

Elsie could not help herself. She fought so hard against breaking the silence with the ever mounting pressure in her chest. A few more small puffs of laughter pushed out. She knew Charles was bound to kill her.

In an effort to distract Daisy from the rude behavior of a highly amused Elsie, Charles closed the distance, making his way to fully inhabit the doorframe.

"The truth is, Daisy, I am very lucky that Mrs. Patmore did push in. You see, I knew that Mrs. Hughes was terribly busy today and did not want to bother her with a request from Lady Mary. I came into the store cupboard to check on the stock for a surprise for her ladyship when the door shut and I found myself locked in!"

Daisy's eyes widened as she contemplated what that could mean. "But the only way that door locks is if Mrs. Hughes..."

He had done it now. Elsie could spit fire. If he told Daisy that she had locked him in here, Daisy would undoubtedly be scared to death of her for goodness knows how long. She would most definitely kill him, slowly and painfully, but until then, she'd enjoy causing him a little further anxiety.

The shelf shook loudly; he realized that she had kicked it on purpose. Insufferable, he thought, but then it dawned on him why.

"No, you see, there is a little nick in the slide here," he said as he tapped his finger on the unmarred metal, but in a way that Daisy couldn't tell the difference. He knew that she would take his word for it and never bother to look into it further. She never seemed to bother with trivial details, unlike ever observant Anna.

He did know the children so well.

"I think it may have caught when the door swung shut. I am grateful that you came along when you did, but do me a favor and don't speak another word of it to Mrs. Patmore. I wouldn't want her to worry."

"Yes Mr. Carson. I do think we came just in time. You looked positively scared to death," Daisy said in all seriousness, adding a quick, "if you don't mind me saying so." She turned red, feeling that she had embarrassed herself, and possibly Mr. Carson. She always managed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time in front of the wrong people.

Another set of cheerful, reluctantly held breaths came from the corner.

"Between you and I, Daisy, I do think I may have spied a rat in here. Terrible thing to think of in this fine house. I'll be setting a trap immediately, so do be sure to discourage Mrs. Patmore from any more pushing in until further notice."

"Yes Mr. Carson," Daisy said as she scurried on down the hall.

"I smell a rat, alright," she muttered from the corner, with a small laugh.

"Sneaky little thing she is too," he replied quietly, moving towards her. "Now are you going to come out of there, or am I going to have to set a trap for you too?"

"Charles," she gasped. "I'm stuck."