Guilt/Bargaining
Cora does something she hasn't done since girlhood, she prays. She walks to the church almost every day and sits on the hard pews, a solitary parishioner and begs for a second chance, one more time to do it all over again. This time she will not fail Sybil. She will hold her closer as a babe, she will shower more affection on the toddling girl, she will spend more time listening to her young dreams. This time, Cora will see the first budding of love between her daughter and the chauffer and she will embrace it, encourage it, so that it can grow in the sunlight instead of the dark corners of the garage. And somehow, this will save her, they will no longer be doomed from the start.
Sometimes, Robert accompanies her, but only to the churchyard, where his path diverges from hers as he goes to Sybil's grave. She cannot bring herself there yet, the idea of speaking to a stone causing her palms to sweat and the bile to rise in her throat. He is more nervous than she has ever seen him, their reconciliation still fragile, and she is an unchartered territory, something he has never seen before. When her prayers go unanswered she leaves the church behind, seeking a new way to temper the guilt that has taken over. She seeks out Isobel, the ultimate do-gooder, to help her.
Her volunteering at the charity hospital in Thursk is met with Robert's furrowed brows, his permanent expression lately. The new lines in his face add to Cora's burden, knowing she has put them there with her inability to rise out of herself. She wants to steady his anxiety, as she has always done in the past, but she does not have it in herself this time. She is isolated in her mind's endless rotation of what if…
Cora spends more and more time on the women's ward of the hospital, writing letters for the patients, reading to girls the same age as her daughters who have just given birth but who have no healthy, pink cheeked bundle to show for it. Or who are waiting to die themselves. She immerses herself in their pain and suffering, hoping that if she burdens enough of it she will be absolved of her own hand in Sybil's death. No matter what Dr Clarkson has said to her, she still believes something could have been done, and if not by him, then by her. She is a mother afterall, and should have had the power to protect her daughter. It is the one thing she swore to always do, and she has failed miserably.
She goes to the attic when she thinks everyone is pre-occupied, intent on finding Sybil's christening gown for Sybbie's upcoming ceremony. Opening a dusty box she find remnants of a childhood, rattles, baby booties, tiny dresses. Sybil's favorite blanket is wrapped in tissue paper and Cora lifts it, burying her face in its faded fabric. The distinctive, milky newborn smell has been replaced with a musty fragrance but she hardly notices, her mind recalling what her nose cannot find. Edith happens upon her, kneeling on the floor, crying into the blanket. She feels the soft touch of her daughter as she puts an arm around her shoulders but the care in her embrace only pushes her deeper into despair. She doesn't recognize her voice and isn't even aware that she is speaking. 'I've failed. I've failed you all'. She repeats it, her new mantra and the weight of her heart is more than she can hold. She is sure it will fall out with the heaviness of her guilt.
