Chapter 3

Edith & Sybil were drinking tea. Tom had popped out, having made the excuse that he had forgotten the birthday of a relative in Ireland so needed to get a present in the post.

OO

"Sir Anthony?"

One of the footmen at his club approached.

"Yes Graves, what is it?" Anthony snapped, hoping that it would not be obvious he had been crying for lost chances and broken dreams.

"There's a young Irishman here to see you Sir," Graves seemed uncomfortable. After all the gentleman's club had failed to fit into the so called classless ambience of the twenty-first century in much the same way as Downton Abbey had. Anthony could not believe that Grave's reluctance was owing to anti-Irish feeling for surely that had begun to fizzle out when the Troubles ended?

"Tell him to wait in the lobby, Graves. I'll be out in a moment."

"Very good, Sir Anthony." Graves exited.

Anthony splashed cold water on his face with his good hand and ran a comb through his tousled blond hair. He tried not to notice that strands of grey had interspersed in recent months, he had begun to suddenly feel his age and was therefore doubly sure Edith could not and would not want him. He then went out into the lobby where tom stood waiting.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Tom," Anthony forced a smile.

"It's good to see you, Sir Anthony. I was wondering if you would care to come for a drink. Edith & Sybil think I've gone to buy a belated birthday present for an Irish relative so I don't have long. I don't feel comfortable in a place like this, although I'm sure I've probably fixed a good few member's cars in my time."

Anthony did not really want to go outside or to anywhere. He felt sure that he would face backlash from people who had read about Edith's engagement, insincere commiserations for one thing, and he was in no mood for this. But Tom was a friend who did not judge him for what he had done that day in Downton Church.

They went a short distance to a small quiet bar. Anthony ordered claret for himself and a bottle of WKD Blue for Tom. Tom carried the drinks to a small quiet table tucked away in the back of the establishment.

"Any chance I had has gone," Anthony sighed, "She is marrying someone else."

"She doesn't love him, Anthony," Tom said, "Lady Edith will not love another man while you still draw breath. You are the only man she has ever wanted and she is just making do."

"What the hell have I done, Tom?" Anthony sighed trying really hard to blink away tears. "When I look back on that day I realise I took account of everyone's opinion but Edith's and it is hers I should have listened to above everyone."

"Men make eejits of themselves for love all the time, irrespective of class." Tom said.

Tom took a swig of his drink. Anthony could not understand what young people found so special about these highly coloured vodka mix drinks but they seemed very popular.

"Anthony, do you have such a thing as Internet access at your club?"

Anthony shook his head. "The younger members of the committee had a hard enough fight on their hands getting a photocopier and fax machine installed."

"I popped into an Internet café on my way to you," Tom took a sheath of papers from his inside jacket pocket, still warm from the laser printer. He pushed them towards Anthony who picked them up tentatively, almost as though he was afraid they would burn him.

The top page was a photo of Edith with a young man, presumably he was Michael Gregson. It was an article about the engagement.

He read on and suddenly felt a cold shiver run down his back and a stabbing of pain.

It was a photocopy of a marriage certificate between one Mr Michael John Gregson and a Miss Camilla Lovatt and there was no corresponding death certificate in that name.

"You mean he wants Edith to commit bigamy?" Anthony was incensed. "I at least was legally free to marry her, being a widower."

"There's more," Tom gently took the papers from Anthony and sifted through them before handing one back.

"It would seem that Gregson's wife is on psychiatric medication and an outpatient at the local mental health clinic, she has been sectioned more than once under the Mental Health Act. I think he has press-ganged Edith into an engagement although he doesn't intend getting divorced, after all he gets a healthy whack of Carers Allowance which he would be loathe to forfeit. I think he plans to have his cake and eat it so to speak, I think he wants to make Edith his mistress."

"The filthy blaggard," Anthony clenched the fist of his good hand. "She's worth so much more than that. Do you think Edith knows?"

Tom shrugged. "I wouldn't like to answer that."

"We have to rescue her, Tom." Anthony said, "I can't leave him to cheapen her, although it's my fault she faces this."

"You did what you truly thought was right at the time." Tom said, "I thought you were an eejit but that doesn't matter now."

"I was an eejit for not recognising what I truly wanted when she was right in front of me," Anthony said, "And I have paid for that wrong decision every second since. If I have to spend the rest of my life making amends then so be it but I need your help Tom, I need your help to get her back. I can't leave her to this...opportunist."

"I'm going to talk to Sybil later and fill her in on all of this." Tom said. "She wants you and Edith to be happy as much as I do."

OO

Mr and Mrs Shaw were up in the kitchen drinking cocoa. They had given up on sleep some time previously.

The couple next door, the Gregsons, were having one almighty row and it was not the first that week. tHe Shaws could not hear exactly what was being shouted, or, to be more accurate, screamed and they had made up their minds to report them to the police. Mr Shaw was a postman, which meant he started work before dawn most days. He was decidedly ragged around the edges owing to lack of sleep.

"For God's sake grow a backbone!" His wife, Helen, snapped. "If you won't deal with it then I will!"

"Helen, you know Mrs Gregson is, er unbalanced," He protested, "Last thing I want is to be run through with a kitchen knife because the psychotic bitch hasn't taken her medication."

Just then they heard an almighty crash and the shattering of glass.