A/N: Thanks to you all for the splendid support you've given me. It means more than you know. xx

CSotA

Saturday, 3 September

The table tucked away in the corner of the café was perfect for Elsie, and Beryl Patmore kept it reserved for her every Saturday afternoon around two o'clock. It was Elsie's 'me time,' when she could hide from everyday life and work and take two hours to herself. Once a month or so, Anna Bates would join her, but most of the time Elsie was alone. Well, except for when Beryl had five minutes to spare and would come out and unceremoniously plop down at Elsie's table. But that was all right, too, as Elsie rarely saw her friend. Between Elsie's crazy schedule when she was working on a project and Beryl's regular hours at the café and her efforts at refurbishing the new establishment in which she'd just invested, they barely even texted each other more than once a week.

Today, however, Elsie was alone. She was nursing the end of her second pot of tea and starting the second-to-last chapter of a novel she'd brought along when a deep, familiar voice could be heard from around the corner.

"Thank you," Charles was saying to the hostess, and Elsie heard Violet Crawley's unmistakable voice in reply.

"Yes, thank you. I can't abide sitting by that sunny window they put us at last time. I don't know how anyone could stand having the light in their eyes!"

Elsie smiled as she saw how the sunlight shone in through the restaurant's windows, bouncing off the teapot on her table; if it ever landed in her eyes, she simply shifted her position a bit. It was LA, after all, and sun was plentiful.

But, then again, this was Violet, and Elsie knew that the woman was particular.

Elsie supposed she should have gone over and greeted them, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She was mostly unable to hear their conversation over the din of the café, but she still managed to catch a few words from Charles simply because his voice carried so well.

"Robert … set … integrity … accurate … budget … Of course not! … Alice ..."

It wasn't enough for her to piece together, but after ten minutes of trying she chastised herself and dug her earbuds out of her bag, plugged them into her phone, and put on some music to listen to instead.

It was Beryl's presence by her side that brought her back to reality about twenty minutes later. She didn't look up immediately but rather read the last two paragraphs of the book, sighed deeply, and closed the cover while pulling out the earbuds. She looked up at Beryl over the tops of her reading glasses.

"Care to join me? I've just finished."

Beryl plopped down in the chair opposite Elsie. "I've been on my feet for ten hours," she huffed, exhausted. "And if Daisy …"

But she couldn't finish the statement, because just then the subject of it appeared in a tizzy.

"Hello, Ms. Hughes," Daisy breathed, bobbing her head. "Would you like another pot?"

"Oh, heavens no," Elsie replied. "But do you have any of those delightful biscuits you had last week?"

"The chocolate ones, ma'am?"

Elsie smiled and nodded excitedly. "Those are the ones! I'd love two, and perhaps a glass of milk to go with them."

"You're such a child," Beryl muttered, but she winked at her friend when Elsie looked up.

"Right away, Ms. Hughes." Daisy whisked the teapot and cup onto a tray, took two steps away, and returned.

"And you, Mrs. Patmore? Would you like anything?"

"As if I have time to sit and enjoy a snack! No, thank you, Daisy. I'll be back there in five minutes, so you'd best warn them."

Daisy nodded. "Right away, Mrs. Patmore," she replied, and she skittered off.

Elsie shook her head and laughed. "You're awful, you know?"

Beryl leaned in and attempted a whisper. "She's making me crazy! She means well, and I suppose she's trying, but -"

"But nothing," Elsie interrupted. "She's a good girl, and she worships you. You'll never find anyone as dedicated as she is. Working the front end and doing half your baking? Come on, Beryl; even you can't complain about that."

"I know," Beryl admitted, fiddling with her apron. She looked up as Elsie was taking off her reading glasses and sliding them into their case. "But what am I to do when the Derby* opens?"

"That's in five months!" Elsie exclaimed.

"Hush," Beryl whispered, looking around to see if anyone had overheard. "I know that! It's just that I was hoping she'd be able to manage on her own here for a few hours at a time. But she's so scattered …"

Daisy returned and dropped off the biscuits and milk, then left without a word. Elsie immediately started in on them, not speaking again until Daisy was clearly out of sight and earshot.

"So don't have her wait tables! Really, Beryl. She's proven her prowess in the kitchen. Hire a front-end manager for when you're at the Derby and leave the kitchen here to Daisy. This is not - no offense - a huge, upscale establishment. Gourmet sandwiches and soups, biscuits and other pastries … she's a marvel at all of that!" She held up the half-eaten biscuit as proof of her statement, and then promptly dunked it in the milk.

Beryl sighed, raised her eyebrows, and nodded as she repeated her friend's words in her head. "I know," she admitted. "I know! You're right; she's fine."

They chatted on a bit more, but Beryl saw how Elsie kept looking over the short wall beside the table, clearly interested in something - or someone, Beryl surmised - that the she couldn't see herself.

"Elsie? I'm over here," Beryl teased, waving a hand in front of Elsie's face. "What in wonderland has you so distracted?"

Elsie flushed a bit and took a huge gulp of milk. "Nothing."

"Yeah, that's a lie," Beryl chuckled. She turned a bit in her seat, craning her neck and noting that half the cafe had emptied out in the last few minutes.

"Well," she said with a smirk, "I'm going to guess that it's not the elder Mrs. Crawley that you're so interested in."

Elsie's nostrils flared. "I'm not interested in anybody, as you well know!"

"Pity; he's rather dashing. And I do well know you're not interested in anyone. I've given up trying, although I'm holding out for George Clooney getting a divorce."

Elsie choked on a bite of biscuit, coughing into her napkin and subsequently wiping at her eyes. "Seriously? You're mad."

"He could become available! You never know, Elsie; stranger things have happened in Hollywood."**

"You know who is available?" Elsie retorted. "Al Mason."

Beryl flushed a very deep shade of crimson, suitably chastised.

"Touché," she muttered. "But that's not really the same. I mean, you're you, and I'm … I'm just … "

"You're wonderful," Elsie said softly, reaching out and patting her friend's hand. "And your time will come. Just like mine will," she said, smirking, "but not with George. His wife seems lovely, but I bet she'd put up a good fight."

Beryl looked up to see Elsie's expression, and they both dissolved in a fit of laughter.

"I just want wonderful things for you," Beryl said. "You know that I hated Joe. He was never good enough for you."

"You met him once," Elsie reminded her. "But no, you're right … he wasn't. I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to notice that."

Beryl contemplated her friend. "I've known you since you first started making your way here, Elsie. Something is on your mind now. Care to share?"

Elsie's eyes flicked involuntarily to Charles's table again; Beryl noticed, but thankfully kept her thoughts to herself - a rarity for which Elsie was grateful.

"Someday," she answered, and the rest of her reply was interrupted by the rush of warm air as the restaurant's door opened.

Elsie immediately recognized the blonde haired woman who'd breezed in, and she called over the little wall to her.

"Anna!" She waved, and Anna heard her and turned to smile and head over to their table.

Except that Anna wasn't the only one who heard Elsie. Just as the producer looked up to catch Anna's eye, she found Charles staring at her.

Their eyes locked for a moment too long, and Anna noticed; fortunately for them all, Beryl did not.

"Elsie," Anna exclaimed, reaching down to give her a hug before pulling over a chair.

But Beryl stopped her. "Here, take mine; I've got to get back in there." She looked at Elsie. "Call me? Maybe we can catch a movie next weekend. I think I'm free for a few hours on Sunday."

"Perfect; I'll do that." Elsie blew her friend a kiss as Anna sat down in the newly-vacated seat.

"So," Elsie said quietly, resolutely ignoring the fact that both she and Anna had seen Charles staring at her, "I hear you had a visitor a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh my gosh, it was awful!" Anna whispered, glancing about. "I thought John was going to kill the poor man."

"I'm glad he refrained," Elsie commented wryly. "That would most definitely not be good for business at CFP."

But the look on Anna's face was serious. "It was frightening, Elsie, I don't mind telling you. That someone would just knock on the door and start firing questions at me. He stuck his foot in the door so that I couldn't close it!"

"Wait." Elsie's brow was furrowed. "What kind of questions was he asking?"

Anna shook her head slowly, her eyes not leaving Elsie's. "Horrible things," she whispered. "About the family. Not about the project, exactly, but about Robert and Cora, Mary ..." She paused. "And Charles Carson."

Elsie's eyebrows flew up again. "Really? My, my … news does travel fast. We didn't even hear about this reporter until the day Charles showed up for his first meeting. So how did that reporter know he'd be involved with us? I hadn't even known until the moment Charles walked into the room, and I'm the bloody producer!"

"I don't know! It was so strange. And I wouldn't have even recognized his name except that -"

"You work for the family," Elsie was nodding. "Yes. And they're all friends with Charles."

"But how would this reporter have pieced together that I would know him? I mean, you're their friend, too. That doesn't mean you knew him."

Anna was looking at her pointedly; Elsie tried, but she couldn't keep the guilty look off her face.

"That wasn't fair," she told Anna. "How did you know?"

Anna turned around and caught Charles staring at their table, even as he was mid-conversation with Violet.

"I saw how you looked at each other when I arrived. I'm guessing he hasn't stopped watching you since," she said softly. "Is there something I should be worried about?"

"Don't be silly," Elsie scoffed. "Besides, isn't it me who's usually worrying about you?"

"Usually," Anna agreed. "But … well, sometimes I worry about you, too. I hope you know that."

"I do," Elsie replied fondly. "And I appreciate that." She drew her lip under her teeth, and Anna let her work through her thoughts.

"Charles and I go way back," she said eventually. "University days. He's four years older than I am, but I started a semester earlier than most students, and Robert and I are only two years apart. So, for a little while, we were all there together."

"And you were all good friends," Anna said. "Now it makes sense."

Elsie spoke before she could stop herself.

"Charles and I ... were more than friends." She regretted the words instantly, but Anna was trustworthy.

Anna nodded slowly. "Ah, of course."

"Yes, well, it was a long time ago," Elsie said, and she waved a hand in the air, signaling for the bill.

"Is it going to be a problem? Elsie … you'd say if something were wrong, wouldn't you?"

Anna's smile was kind, but Elsie recognized the concern that was already blossoming in her young friend's eyes.

"Yes," she assured Anna. "It's fine now - we rarely even have to speak to each other anyhow. Water under the bridge. Besides, he's married."

A waitress brought the bill, and Elsie glanced at it before tucking her card into the little folder and handing it back to the girl.

"True," Anna said. "But funny thing about that …"

"I'm sorry?"

Anna looked out the window for a moment, then directly at Elsie.

"That reporter? He was asking me about Charles and Alice's marriage. If it's on the rocks, what I knew about it. That's when John showed up and flipped out on the guy."

"Why would a reporter ask you about that?" Elsie mused. "You don't know Alice, do you?"

Anna shook her head.

"I have no idea," Anna said. "Just … be careful, Elsie. Because someone is clearly out to cause trouble for this film, and none of you need that."

They got up and headed out, and Elsie noted that Violet was alone at the table. Figuring Charles was in the restroom, she held the door open for Anna and they waited for Tom to bring the car around.

"I'm sorry I was so late in getting here," Anna said. "Not much of a visit, I know."

"Extra work for Cora, I'm guessing? I know there's a party for the cast and crew next weekend."

Anna nodded. "Yes, although most of my time was spent working with the kid from the catering service they usually hire. Showing him around the kitchen, where everything is. His name's Alfred. He brought a few samples of things, and Cora left it up to me to make decisions about the menu."

"Well, that's nice," Elsie smiled. "She trusts your opinion, knows you'd say if something were not up to snuff. Everything was good, I take it?"

"Really good! But oh my God, he's really tall," Anna said with a laugh. "I felt like a child next to him but I've got to be ten years older than he is!"

"Well, as long as he can cook," Elsie said.

Tom pulled up and tipped his hat at Anna dramatically, who laughed at him.

"You're a piece of work," she teased, swatting his arm. "It's a wonder Sybil puts up with you at all."

"Hey, Anna. And don't I know it! Can we drop you off on the way?" Tom offered.

Anna checked her watch. "Actually, that would be lovely. I think John will be home soon, and it's my turn to make dinner."

As they climbed in and Tom shut the door, Elsie saw Charles helping Violet into her own car two spots up. She hadn't realized they'd left just after she and Anna had.

Tom made to pull forward, but before he could do so a sporty red convertible pulled into the empty spot just in front of them, and Elsie's breath caught in her throat as she saw the now-recognizable face behind the wheel.

Alice.

Elsie typically hated her limo's heavily-tinted windows, but she was grateful for them now, realizing that Charles glanced over at their car but couldn't see inside. They both watched as he climbed into the seat beside Alice.

"You've got to hand it to her," Anna murmured in Elsie's ear, "she looks great in that car."

So does Charles, Elsie couldn't help but think.

They watched as another car backed into the spot Violet's limo had just vacated, parking front of Alice and blocking the way. Elsie saw Alice get agitated and loud (she presumed; Alice's flailing arm and gesturing indicated it), clearly annoyed at having her way barred, and she noted that Charles was trying to calm her down. They both saw as Alice turned her irritation on him and watched him argue back a bit, albeit with less enthusiasm.

"No wonder that reporter was asking about them," Anna murmured. "If they're like this in plain sight, it'll be a miracle if the rumors stay out of the paper for the rest of the week!"

"What rumors?" Elsie asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.

"About them divorcing," Anna said. "Although everyone in LA is divorcing all the time, if you listen to the right people."

"True," Elsie mused, her attention still drawn to the red sports car. "Very, very true."

*-The Derby – old, iconic LA establishment. Was a brilliant suggestion from my LA Guru, S.S.

** - Was originally Brad Pitt, until it was suggested that George was a better fit, given his Text Santa history. Nevertheless, this was written before the announcement of the twins. No offense meant.