Downton July Fanfic Bonanza!
5th July prompt: "Bombs"
Period AU: World War II – for the purposes of this story, Anthony, Matthew, Tom, and Michael have not met the Crawleys before.
This is my (extremely late) contribution to the STEAMM day celebrations. It was meant to be a drabble like the rest. Like the rest it grewed and grewed, and it will now be a multi-chapter thing! I hope you enjoy it.
Lord Grantham had not thought it necessary to build an outside shelter, because, he stated with complete certainty, there wouldn't be any bombing this far out into the countryside, nor this far north. Anyway, since the house was being used as an administrative HQ for the army, Robert considered it their responsibility to build one if they thought it necessary. (The army considered the wine cellars would be more than adequate should the need arise.)
But sometimes, on their way back to Germany, the bombers would unload any shells they hadn't dropped on their intended targets soon after turning to home, thus lightening their weight and giving them a better chance of their fuel lasting until they reached German-occupied Europe and safety. And sometimes the primitive navigation equipment malfunctioned sending the hapless pilots the wrong way…
One such bomb from one such lost German bomber landed on Downton's back lawn one night with a squeal and a thump terrifying everyone within. Carson got up, and went out to inspect the intruder, having ordered everyone else under his command to stay in the Servant's Hall. He was joined by Lord Grantham, who had ordered his family to go to the library. The unexploded bomb was at the bottom of a ten-foot crater. Carson and his master exchanged bleached looks and made their way back to the house as quickly as they could without losing face. Then they lost no time in telephoning the police. Everyone, family and staff, were moved to the other side of the house for the rest of the night.
…
The next morning, the sappers arrived: Major Anthony Strallan, Captain Matthew Crawley, Lieutenant Michael Gregson, and Colour Sergeant Tom Branson, all of the Royal Engineers. They had been working through the night on UXBs (UneXploded Bombs) situated in more threatening positions such as hospitals. This one was the last before they went off duty. Lord Grantham accompanied by his wife, butler, and housekeeper met them at the front door as they climbed out of their truck.
"Thank you for coming." Robert extended his hand graciously to the Major. "The wretched thing is round the other side of the house." Robert wanted to waste no time getting rid of the uninvited guest. But Cora, always observant, had noticed how tired these men were.
"Major, would you and your men like some coffee before you get down to work?" she added with a smile that meant more to Robert (who had seen that particular smile before) than it did to Anthony.
"That would be extremely kind of you, Lady Grantham. Thank you" Anthony accepted on behalf of his men. He would have insisted that everyone else got some rest before tackling the UXB anyway, even if it meant he did the preliminary examination on his own. They were all nearing the end of a particularly nerve-shredding tour of duty and badly in need of some leave.
Carson bowed in his thoroughly professional manner and led the guests to the drawing room where, although the breakfast things had been tidied away, coffee was still available, and indeed was still being drunk by Mary, Edith, and Sybil. The Earl's three daughters were fully engaged with the war effort in their different ways: Mary organised and ran the local Women's Voluntary Service, Sybil had trained as a nurse and although she worked at one of the military hospitals in Harrogate to the south, she was home on leave. No one in the family quite knew what Edith did, although she also worked weekly shifts at HMS Forest Moor in Nidderdale to the south-west of Downton, driving herself and some of her colleagues down for a stint of four days, and returning for two days' leave, as she had earlier that day. She was still dressed in her Women's Royal Naval Service or WReNS uniform.
Carson opened the door then stood back to allow the Earl to lead the sappers through. He was talking to the Major about how long this operation might take, mentioning his three girls to him as he passed them. Anthony was trying to make the Earl accept that although it could all be over and the bomb removed within a few hours, equally it might take several days according to the type of bomb it proved to be. Cora was asking Captain Crawley about his name, and how he might be related to the family. Lieutenant Gregson and Sergeant Branson were following behind, taking in their surroundings.
Anthony, though not unimpressed by Downton Abbey, was still struggling with the Earl's apparent inability to understand that the War wasn't going to take the Earl's convenience and comfort into consideration just for him.
"It really does all depend on the type of bomb, and more to the point, what type of fuse…" He stopped mid-sentence as he caught first sight of the Wren sipping her coffee and watching the sappers closely. Her copper curls were dressed neatly to the back of her head, and her dark brown eyes were summing Gregson up with an almost predatory look from behind her cup. Anthony's mouth went dry; he lost the words he had meant to say to the Earl; his heart stopped beating, and then beat like it would burst from his chest. This was Lady Edith, didn't Grantham say? Anthony's world, he knew, would never be the same again.
"…is a very inconvenient disruption. I say, Major, did you hear me?"
Anthony shook himself back to the Earl's conversation.
"I did, my lord. I assure you that I will do everything I can to expedite the removal of the bomb, but my utmost concern has to be the safety of you, your household, and of my men. I'm sure you must understand that."
"Of course, of course" said Robert, not meaning it at all.
Anthony put his cup down.
"The sooner I get to work, sir, the sooner this unpleasant business can be over and done with." He turned to his men.
"Carry on, gentlemen, you deserve a breather. I'll go and make the first pass. Thank you for the coffee, my lady" he nodded gratefully at Cora as he passed, glancing once more at the fair haired angel who now had his heart. Carson was ready to show him through to where the bomb lay awaiting him.
…
Taking advantage of Cora's distraction with Major Strallan, Mary joined Captain Crawley.
"I heard my mother interrogating you as to your family tree" she smiled at the handsome Captain, but there was a quality to her smile that he couldn't quite fathom, as though she was accustomed always to hold something back.
"Yes, she has. It would appear that I am some kind of cousin…third cousin I think." He had an easy-going nature that set everyone at ease, everyone except her of course, but she was very taken by his strikingly blue eyes and gentle, fearless smile.
"That is much closer than you think. We have fifth cousins who still insist on visiting every Christmas. However did we overlook you?" Mary jested.
"Perhaps because we wished to be overlooked?" Matthew's honesty was both disconcerting and disarming. "It's nothing personal, it's just that my father and mother didn't terribly care for, well, this" he waved a hand at his surroundings. "He was a doctor and she a nurse. I think they had different priorities."
"Don't tell Papa that. He'll have you escorted from the premises!" Mary laughed, as she almost visibly relaxed talking to this kind Captain.
"Anything to get away from bombs for a bit!" he laughed. He quickly added "No, I wouldn't mutiny on old Strallan. He's one of yours, you know."
"Ours?" Mary raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Sir Anthony Strallan, baronet, he is in normal life. But he's a prince among COs. I'd walk to Hell and back for him."
"And you probably do, every day you're on duty." Mary looked at him with undisguised admiration, and Matthew found that he liked it.
…
Tom drank his coffee black: simple, strong, and straightforward. Being inside a stately home put his back up, and he was itching to get outside to help the Major.
"How did you get involved in bomb disposal, Sergeant?" said Sybil, politely.
Tom looked round to see where such a beautiful, musical voice had come from, and it appeared to come from the nurse by his side.
"I'm Irish" he replied, as though that explained everything.
"And…?" Sybil encouraged.
"And I come from a prominent nationalist family…journalists, you understand. We weren't terrorists. But it meant that the British Army knew who I was when I enlisted and they put me here rather than risking me near the front. I think they believe I'll raise a mutiny."
"I think that's rather horrid, not to say short sighted" she lowered her voice conspiratorially "but don't tell anyone I said so."
"No" Tom laughingly agreed. "I'm glad it was you who asked and not any of the stuffed shirts of the Earl's family!"
"No, indeed. I'm only his daughter." Sybil allowed herself just a moment enjoying the Sergeant's appalled discomfort, before she smiled mischievously. "But don't let that put you off. Would you like a drop of whiskey in that coffee?"
"Not while I'm on duty, but thank you for offering." He couldn't put his feelings about this nurse who seemed to be both a revolutionary and an Earl's daughter into words, but if he could have, they would have included 'such astonishing boldness', 'a wild and independent spirit', and 'a shining beauty like I've never seen in my life'.
…
With one of his superior officers out of the way, and the other now deep in discussion with Lady Mary, Lieutenant Gregson swaggered over to the Wren. He'd noticed how she looked at him, of course he did, he was always on the look out for women who might offer some sport to him. In return, he gave them some excitement, and they both gave each other pleasure. And that was all. He wanted to think no more about it, because somehow he had ended up in the Royal Engineers, facing death by being blown up day after day. If he got involved with any one woman, if he allowed himself to have feelings for someone, then his life (or what was left of it) which was presently held up by the flimsiest of supports would come crashing down around his ears. No, it was safest just to eat, drink, and be merry…for tomorrow he really might die.
"Are you stationed here" Michael quickly looked for her stripes and to his surprise found pips instead "er…Captain?"
"No, not here. You?" She had a lovely, sweet voice. He could imagine her saying all sorts of lovely things in that voice.
"We came up from York. But I'm awfully glad we did." He smiled. It wasn't an unattractive smile, Edith thought, although this officer was not exactly putting her at ease with his forwardness.
"I could perhaps show you some of the more interesting bits of York, the bits most visitors don't see, if you were interested, when you're next off duty." He wasn't really smiling any more. His eyes were doing even more talking than his rather kissable lips. Edith didn't know what had got into her.
"I don't know…"
"Oh, but do say 'yes'. I'd love to."
He leant forward, just a little more.
Edith was leaning backwards, feeling rather too warm and not entirely enjoying it, but before she could answer him, she heard a commanding voice from the doorway.
…
Anthony lowered himself carefully into the crater, not that he really needed a closer look to confirm his worst fears. It was obvious from the size what this bomb was, and it was not going to be an easy one to deal with. He listened with his ear to the casing, relieved that he didn't hear anything like a timing mechanism.
He took a moment though, to think about what had happened in the drawing room a moment ago. He had seen a woman (merely looked at her!), and yet she had had the sort of effect on him that you read about in books. He didn't think that sort of thing actually happened in real life. But as he thought of her dark eyes, and neat, silky hair, and the shy but determined character written on her face, he felt his pulse race and his stomach somersault again.
As he walked back to the drawing room and his men, he wanted to believe that this might be the moment he'd waited for all his life. He had even begun to think what his first words to her could be, something romantic but unassuming, perhaps something that could be taken in two ways…one of them bearing more meaning that the other.
Then he stopped in the open doorway to the drawing room, and watched all his new-born hopes crushed under the gaze that Gregson and the beautiful Wren were sharing. Even as he felt his heart crack, he looked from one to the other and thought how much more suited they were to each other, much of an age, with their lives ahead of them. He just hoped that, this time, Michael would realise what a gem, what an angelic prize he had in his hands, and treat her kindly and faithfully.
He looked round and saw similar gazes being shared by his Captain and Lady Mary, and the Sergeant and Lady Sybil. He felt very old, irrelevant…and disposable. He made a decision, and raised his voice.
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid it's bad news. What we have in Lord Grantham's lawn is a Fritz" Anthony said, his voice clear, but not hiding the gravity of the situation.
"What does that mean, Major?" asked Sybil.
"We give the bombs nicknames, a short-hand to describe them, my lady. This is a 3,200lb bomb – and they are blighters to disarm. They have two fuses which have to be neutralised in the correct order. The problem is that the Germans keep us on our toes by fixing half of them one way, and the other half the other way. I have a 50% chance of getting it right."
"No, sir, with respect, I don't think you should do this one on your own" Tom took a step towards his CO to emphasise his point. "You've done the last three Fritzs; let one of us do this one."
"Thank you, Sergeant, but you three have dealt with the lion's share of the ordnance from the last two nights. It's only fair that I take this one. Lady Grantham, if I'm unlucky and it goes up, a bomb that size will blow in all the windows facing it on that side of the house. I strongly recommend that any valuables are removed from those rooms, and all personnel kept to the other side of the building."
Cora paled but rose to the occasion with typical American strength. She began to agree a plan with Mrs Hughes and Carson. Meanwhile, Anthony turned to Matthew.
"Captain, would you and the lads shore up the sides of the crater for me?"
"Of course, sir. Is the bomb in an amenable position, or does it need to be moved?" Matthew was efficient, but obviously agreed with Tom that Anthony should not be tackling this beast by himself.
"I think it should be fine as it is. Just don't jog it! You all know that anyway, but it bears repeating."
There were smart salutes from Matthew and Tom, and a rather more casual one from Michael, before the squad moved off to clear Anthony's workspace for him, and put props in place around the crater to ensure the sides didn't cave in. Robert and Cora accompanied Carson and Mrs Hughes to sort out the evacuation of the house nearest the bomb, Sybil and Mary following behind. Edith and Anthony were left alone.
"How do you do it, Major?" she asked, trying to fill the awkward gap in conversation with something appropriate.
"Do what, Lady Edith?" he answered, all his prepared bons mots ignored, along with all his burgeoning hopes.
"Face death every day, yet remain calm and courteous, even to someone as infuriating as my father?"
Anthony smiled understandingly. "Your father is just not used to serious situations where he is not in control."
"That's very forgiving of you. But it doesn't explain your bravery, how you face those diabolical things over and over again with equanimity." She turned her chocolate brown eyes up to him, and his control faltered.
"There are things requiring more bravery than making a bomb safe, my lady" he murmured in his rich baritone voice. His glittering blue eyes were full of sadness, and she felt herself being drawn to him, not pulled as she just had with Michael. What gripped her now was a far quieter, far stronger emotion than mere lust.
"I can't imagine what they would be" she said quietly.
"Talking to a lovely and intelligent woman without making an ass of myself would be top of my list." They giggled at his words. "Not that it matters any more. I'm way too old for such pleasures." He looked down, the previous sadness returning to his handsome features.
Edith studied him for a moment. He was, perhaps, in his late forties; not so very old. His fair hair was awry and boyish underneath his officer's cap. He had a few laughter lines at his eyes, and he had a gentle, open smile. But there was something about him now she was with him alone, something almost wounded, yet bravely borne. There were depths to Major Sir Anthony Strallan that made other men appear very shallow.
"Love's not Time's fool" she quoted, making Anthony visibly start. "Nothing should obstruct love, not class, not age, nothing. After all, true love is rare enough as it is."
It was Anthony's turn to be silenced by this remarkable woman, who seemed to know the words written on his heart and soul.
"I overheard that you aren't stationed here. Are you by any chance connected with Forest Moor?" he asked.
"However did you guess that?" she exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
"Process of elimination really. You couldn't come back home here very often if you were stationed very far away. Of all the navy bases in North Yorkshire, there are only one or two that allow Wrens, and you are too clever to settle for pushing bits of paper around. And" he added confidingly, "I served in the Intelligence Corps in the last War. It takes an Intelligence Officer to recognise another!"
Edith looked up at him, eyes blazing. Finally, she had found someone other than her chums at Forest Moor to whom she could talk shop. They chatted contentedly, she asking questions and advice on the methods used in 1917-18, and he asking about the modern technology and how it helped. Without either of them realising it, within the hour they had fallen inexorably in love.
…