Thank you for your kind reviews. They were quite a motivation to get this chapter finished quickly. Hope you enjoy! :)


It had been a week since the parents' evening on which luckily no bodies had to be hidden and now the school year's finale had begun. Three months to go until late July. For the first time since Joe's death Elsie was thinking about going on holiday with Tommy. Somewhere where no one knew them. She loved staying at her parents' farm and knew Tommy enjoyed it, but his dad had loved travelling so much that she thought it only fair to show Tommy a bit of the world before he was all grown up. Joe would have wanted that. The memories of the family holidays were the best she had. Her thoughts of a nice holiday somewhere warm and sunny were only increased by the load of work she had been doing these past weeks. Now that the dates for the exams were fixed and everything worked by itself for once, she was allowed calmer days in her office and could focus more on her senior courses and the Gaelic project group.

It was Wednesday and after giving a double lesson of French in the afternoon, she greeted the one dozen students who were eagerly learning the language of Elsie's childhood. She sent them home ten minutes early to be in time to pick up Tommy from his cricket training. Having packed up her bag she walked down the corridors, feeling proud again for the first time in a long time that this was in a way her school. It was a warm day in late April and the sun danced over her face while she walked up to her car. A perfect day to have dinner on the terrace. She decided to pop into the supermarket with Tommy to get the first ice cream of the year.

She drove onto the cricket grounds' car park. Tommy was standing exactly where he had been waiting for Joe on the day he had died. He grabbed his bag and threw it in the boot before plumping into the co-driver's seat.

"How was it?", Elsie asked, checking the driving mirror while speeding back onto the road.

"Cool. The weather made it better", Tommy told her.

"It is nice, isn't it?", Elsie said. "We could have dinner on the terrace if you like?"

"Yes, and we could have ice cream!", Tommy exclaimed excited.

"I was thinking just that", Elsie said, smiled and gave her son a wink.

"Can I turn on the radio?", he asked and Elsie nodded. Instead of music an annoying hissing sounded. "What's that?", Elsie wondered, fumbling with the knobs to get the radio to work. She lost a bit of focus concerning the road until Tommy shouted: "Mummy, watch out!"

Elsie looked up, seeing a man standing on the road not far ahead. A Gaelic curse escaped her mouth and she stepped through the brake pedal. The car groaned and squeaked. Elsie grabbed the wheel tightly and then the vehicle stopped with a jerk, only lightly hitting the man who was thrown to the ground. "Shit!", Elsie shouted, turning of the engine and opening the seat belt. "Shit, shit, shit!" She threw open the door and jumped onto the street. The man was lying flat on his face on the street. Elsie fished her mobile out of her pocket and called 999. About twenty seconds later she knelt down beside the man. He was tall and heavy as she found out when she rolled him onto his back, only managing so by putting her entire weight into the movement. The man was unconscious. There was a laceration at his head, but it wasn't fresh enough to have been caused by the collision with her car. No other wounds were visible and she hoped that he was all right.

"He's not dead, is he?", Tommy asked carefully, standing next to the car.

"No, he is not too bad", Elsie assured him. "Would you call Becky? Tell her what happened and to come here."

Tommy nodded and took Elsie's phone. She could hear the sirens of the ambulance in the distance. She told the paramedics what had happened and they heaved him onto a stretcher and into the car. They sped off towards the hospital. They had been gone for about two minutes when a police car arrived. It was clear from the speed with which it came around the corner that Becky was the one driving. She stopped next to Elsie's car and got out. "You're okay, Els?"

"I'm fine. We're both all right. I worry about the man."

"What happened?", Becky asked, taking out her pad to take notes for her report.

"Well, I was fighting with the radio and didn't focus on the street. Tommy warned me and I braked", Elsie told her sister.

"Ok, did you see where the man came from?", Becky asked.

"No", Elsie admitted.

"I did", Tommy said. "He walked onto the road from the right and then stopped on the left side. He seemed confused."

"Okay, thanks, Tommy." Becky finished her notes. "I'll take care of that and make sure you get the car back quickly."

"Thanks. Tommy, go home. I'll go to the hospital to make sure the man's all right and then we'll have dinner as planned, okay?", Elsie told him.

"Okay", he said, moved to get his bag out of the car, hugged her and then ambled down the road towards their house.

"Can you drop me off at the hospital? I just want to make sure he's okay", Elsie asked Becky.

"I'll just wait for Kent then I drive you over", Becky replied.

Elsie nodded gratefully and then noticed a bowler lying at the side of the road. She picked it up. "It must belong to that man", she told Becky.

"Old fashioned, was he?"

"Could be. I better give it back to him", Elsie said.

"Was he at least good looking?"

"What?", Elsie asked shocked at the question.

"The man, was he good looking? If he was might have been worth hitting him with your car. We both know you are awful at getting people to know in a normal way", she teased.

"Oh, shut up", Elsie mumbled.

"So was he?"

"I suppose, yes. I didn't really look", Elsie admitted.

"Well, fingers crossed for you that he's not married", Becky said, raising her hand to show her crossed fingers.

Elsie used the bowler to hit slap her arm. "You are impossible."


Charles had been trapped in a chaos of light and darkness. Up seemed to be down and the other way around. It was freezing and boiling, windy and calm. He had been floating through everything and nothing at all. And then he had opened his eyes. Without orientation he had blinked a few times and stumbled forwards. The sun had been shining and he was grateful for the warmth. His eyes were betraying him, they didn't want to focus. He heard a strange noise. In a way it sounded like an automobile, but clearer and also quieter. Then he heard a squeak and stopped in confusion. The next thing he knew was that something hit him – again. And he fell – again -, losing consciousness.


Elsie had been waiting for an hour in the hospital. Of course no one had told her anything, because she wasn't related to the patient, but she would not give up that easily. She had texted Tommy to let him now that it would get late. He didn't mind. Want to know how he is. Fingers crossed that he's ok. That's what he had written back. Elsie had gotten herself a coffee, but it tasted pretty awful and when she spotted Dr. Tapsell she threw it in the bin and hurried to catch the old doctor. "Dr. Tapsell!", she said and he looked up from his papers. "Ah, Mrs. Burns, good to see you", he greeted her and shook her hand. "To be honest, I was hoping you'd be here."

"This is about the man I hit with my car, isn't it?", Elsie asked.

"Yes, ehem, I couldn't tell you how he is, usually, but in this case I feel I have to make an exception." He took her aside, so that they were standing at the wall and didn't draw attention. "Your car only left a bruise, nothing to worry about. The laceration at his head must have been caused earlier and is probably the reason why he stepped so carelessly onto the road."

"Well, that's a relief", Elsie admitted.

"Yes, but there is another problem."

"Oh?"

"You see, it is not unusual for patients to suffer from amnesia after an accident. It never lasts long and we can take care of them anyway since they only don't remember the day of the accident. But in this case the patient doesn't seem to remember anything at all", Dr. Tapsell explained.

"You mean, he doesn't know who he is? But surely he has an ID with him or…"

Dr. Tapsell shook his head. "You might have noticed his old fashioned clothing. Well, his papers are as old fashioned. Could be that he was at some historical event. The trouble is he is convinced that this is real."

"I'm not sure I'm following", Elsie said with a frown.

Dr. Tapsell scratched the back of his head, fumbling with the papers with the other hand. "He thinks the year is 1912 and that he was born in 1856. The accident must have caused him to confuse the role play with the reality."

"Oh god", Elsie sighed. "Have you contacted his family? His wife perhaps?"

"Well, that's why his amnesia is an actual problem. I talked to your sister to find his relatives, but he doesn't exist. There are now records of him, neither criminal ones nor a birth certificate nor anything that would lead us to where he's from."

"But that can't be! He must be registered somewhere", Elsie protested.

"Well, he should be, yes. Your sister and I think he might be a homeless. That would explain why he seems to not exist."

Elsie stared at him dumbfounded. "You are telling me that this man in there is a homeless with a love for historical role play and confused an imaginary identity with his real one?"

Dr. Tapsell cleared his throat. "Somehow it sounds more ridiculous when you say it", he mumbled.

"It is ridiculous, Doctor", Elsie corrected.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Burns, but I'm no detective and even your sister didn't know any better."

"Fine", Elsie said, raising her hands in defeat. "Let's say what you both think is true, what will you do next?"

"Well, we need someone to take care of him until the amnesia wears off."

"Why can't you do that?"

"He can't stay here for free. It would be better if he would go elsewhere. That wouldn't cause trouble."

"I see", Elsie said. "Did you have a plan?

"Actually your sister and I thought of you."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you hit him with your car which most likely caused the amnesia. It would be only fair if you…"

"Ha! My sister and you have thought that through, haven't you? I work full time, Dr. Tapsell. I'm headmistress of the school your grandchildren go to. And I have a son I have to take care of. I don't have time to take care of some lunatic as well", Elsie protested angrily.

"He is not a lunatic", Dr. Tapsell objected. "It would only be temporarily until the amnesia is gone."

"And how long could that take?", Elsie demanded to know.

"A few weeks", Dr. Tapsell said.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, statistically that would be the case."

Elsie sighed deeply. In a way she was responsible. After all she had hit him with her car, but she really wasn't comfortable with having a stranger in her home. "May I meet him properly before I agree?"

"Of course. If you decide to take care of him feel free to take him with you. There is no medical reason why he should stay here."

Elsie nodded. Standing in front of the door she took a deep breath before she knocked. A deep voice granted her permission to enter.


Charles wasn't comfortable with that weird shirt he was dressed in that was more or less open at his back. He disliked the room. It was so clean and smelled awkward. The bed was scratchy and he just wanted to leave. People here didn't understand him. And he couldn't understand them. They kept telling him he was in hospital, but he knew the Downton hospital well and this wasn't it. It looked like one of these modern places in London he had heard of and he just wanted to get out. There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in", he said and watched how the door was being opened. A woman stepped in. Charles couldn't deny that she was both the friendliest and most beautiful person he had met so far in this place. Her auburn hair shimmered coppery in the light coming from the window. It was put together in a ponytail which mirrored her child-self in Charles' eyes. Her eyes were a shining blue and watched him carefully. She was wearing a white blouse and to Charles' shock trousers. They were blue and the material looked strange, but he was sure that it were trousers. He raised an eyebrow at that. A woman in trousers. Where had he ended up?

Elsie was worrying her bottom lip, fully aware of the sceptical look the man gave her. She held his gaze as best as she could, noticing that he was very handsome with his salt and pepper hair that was slightly curly, one curl falling on his forehead. His eyes were dark brown, but seemed kind even though they eyed her strangely at the moment. She decided to make the first step and held her hand towards him. "Elsie Burns, pleased to meet you."

He looked at her hand questioningly and didn't take it. "Charles Carson", he replied coldly.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Carson?", she asked, forcing herself to be polite.

"You are the fifth person to ask me that today", he remarked. "And my answer hasn't changed. I'm perfectly all right."

"Of course you are", Elsie said. "It's not like I hit you with my car, not to mention that you were lying on the street unconscious afterwards." She couldn't help being a little sarcastic.

"Why on earth were you driving an automobile?", Charles asked.

"Why shouldn't I drive?", Elsie countered.

"Because, well, you know", he stuttered. "You are a woman", he finally pointed out.

"I don't see how that could be of relevance regarding my capability of driving", Elsie replied.

"Maybe it's not of relevance", Charles admitted. "But the fact remains that you hit me with the automobile."

"Fair enough", Elsie said, feeling that the tension was leaving the room. She was rewarded with a half-smile that made her smile back at him. She noticed that she was still holding his bowler in her hand and awkwardly held it to him. "I believe this is yours. You lost it."

"Oh, thank you", he said, taking it from her. Their fingers brushed and Charles felt his heart skip a beat. Elsie withdrew her hand quickly, feeling like she had been given an electrical shock. Their eyes met and each got lost in the other ones. Not understanding what was happening, both looked away and regained their composure. It was Charles who spoke first then. "So, since you are the reason I'm here, Mrs. Burns, I'd appreciate it if you could explain all this to me. The staff here wasn't too capable of the task."

Elsie moved a chair to sit next to the bed. "Well, ask what information you'd like to have."

"Good", Charles said. "Where am I?"

"You are in Downton Hospital."

"I disagree. Our cottage hospital looks different, very different."

"Cottage hospital? That was closed after the Second World War and this new building was build."

Charles stared at her in horror. "Second World War?", he repeated slowly.

"Yes, 1939 until 1945. The same year it ended plans were made for a new hospital and they build this building. Has been rebuild various times ever since.

Charles was trying to breathe calmly. "What date is it?"

"21st of April", Elsie answered.

Charles closed his eyes. "The year", he said quietly.

"Oh, 2012", Elsie replied.

Charles eyes shot open. "Two thousand and…" His voice failed him. "This is impossible."

"No, it's not. The doctor thinks you suffer from amnesia. I know you think you were born in 1856, but I can assure you that's not the case. The accident confused your mind. You will remember everything correctly soon", Elsie tried to soothe him.

"No", he said, shaking his head. "My name is Charles Edward Carson. I was born on 19th August 1856. My father was Edward Carson, groom to the Earl of Grantham. My mother was Anne Carson. She was ladies maid to the Countess of Grantham. My parents died a year apart from another. I am butler to the son of those my parents served now at Downton Abbey. This is the truth. I don't have amnesia. This is who I am", he said desperately. Elsie felt sorry for him. It sounded perfectly logical while it was completely impossible at the same time. She put her hand on his arm to calm him. "Mr. Carson, whatever is the truth, we will find out. Don't despair, because no one believes you. I wish I could, but the year is 2012."

Charles stared at her hand on his arm. It was warm and her thumb was stroking him gently. He did take comfort from the touch. "Will you help me?", he asked.

"Yes, I will. The doctor and the police decided that it would be best if you stayed at my house. You can have the guest room. My son and I will make sure you're all right", Elsie assured him. She didn't know why, but there was something about him that made her trust him. And it had been easy to decide that she would follow the doctor's and her sister's plan.

"It's not proper", he said unsure.

"What is?"

"I can't live with a married woman. What would your husband say?"

Elsie looked down at her lap and withdrew her hand from his arm. "My husband wouldn't have minded. But he died two years ago."

Charles lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. You needn't worry about property. You will find these days many things are proper that weren't in 1912", she said with regard to the state his mind was in. "If it makes you uncomfortable try to let that thought soothe you."

"I don't think I have a choice", he replied. "Mrs. Burns, I thank you very much for your kindness."

"You are welcome, Mr. Carson. I owe you one after hitting you with my car." Elsie's mobile beeped. She was aware of Charles confused look when she got it out of her pocket. Bringing your patient clothes. Be there in a mo. Becky

"What is that?", he asked.

"It's a phone. We've made a lot of progress in technology", she explained.

"Aha", Charles said, eyeing the thing with a mild fear in his eyes.

"My sister is coming here. She has got some clothes for you", Elsie told him. "You can change and then we're off. I hope you're hungry. After all that happened today I need something unhealthy for dinner."

"All right", Charles answered a little overstrained.

There was a knock. "Come in, Becky", Elsie called out. Becky walked into the room. A pile of clothes lay over her arm. "Mr. Carson, I'm Becky Hughes, Detective Inspector. And I brought you clothes."

"Thank you", Charles said, bewildered by a woman in uniform. Another thing that seemed normal in 2012, just as women wearing trousers.

Becky handed him the clothing, holding a pair of boxers in front of him. They were burgundy and looked a little small for a man of Charles' height. He frowned looking at the underwear. "What happened to my clothes?"

"I'm sure they've put them away for you. We'll get them on the way out", Elsie assured him.

"All right", Charles said. "Ehm, would you mind turning around? I'm afraid this thing doesn't cover me up." It was clear that he was embarrassed.

Becky and Elsie simultaneously turned around. They heard how Charles got up and moved behind the camouflage to change.

"He is a sex bomb, isn't he?", Becky said.

"What are you doing?", Elsie whispered, ignoring her sister's inappropriate comment.

"I'm making him put on some proper underwear", Becky replied cheekily.

"While we are in the same room, Becky!", Elsie scowled.

"Oh, go on. You've been married for ages. A man - with or without underwear - shouldn't be so hard to handle. And if I am honest", she said and turned around, checking out Charles' bum in a mirror which Elsie realized when she turned around too. Embarrassed she wanted to turn back around quickly, but was in a way mesmerized for a moment. Blushing, she closed her eyes and finally had the decency to look away. "I wouldn't mind - what did Gwen call it recently? - banging him". Becky continued.

"Becky, if you're interested in him, please just say Els, I'm interested in him and not I wouldn't mind banging him."

"Don't worry. You hit him with your car before I had a chance to, so he's yours", Becky replied cheekily and winked at her older sister.

"What?! I don't want him!", Elsie hissed

"Which is exactly why you take him to your house to live there and help him with his amnesia", Becky concluded.

"I was talked into it", Elsie defended herself.

"Els, you're as Scottish as I am. No one talks us into anything", Becky chuckled. "Besides, you gave him the look."

"The look?!", Elsie asked both in confusion and anger.

"The look", Becky confirmed.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the look you haven't given anyone since things with Joe got serious. I mean, there were some flirty looks, you know, but never that look."

"Would you please stop saying that?", Elsie said with gritted teeth.

"What? The look?", Becky asked innocently.

"Yes, exactly that."

"Oh, I love the look", Becky exclaimed.

"Shut up!", Elsie snapped.

"To clarify this: The look is the I'm going to undress you with my teeth if need be to get you to marry me look."

"No one has such a look!", Elsie protested.

"You do!"

"No!"

"Oh, yes. It's very rare, but you have it."

"Becky...!", Elsie began, but their argument was interrupted by Charles stepping out from behind the camouflage. The two women turned around. Becky smiled cheekily, taking in the sight of Charles while Elsie desperately tried not to give him that look. She had gotten so self-conscious that even while only standing there, breathing and looking she felt like she was sending the wrong signals.

"I'm still not sure what these things are, but I think in a way, I might be dressed", he said, looking down at the tight grey t-shirt that pronounced his muscles and the blue jeans that offered a nice view at his crotch area. His hair was muddled adorably. The trainers completed his modern appearance. "You look very sexy, I must say", Becky said. "My sister is a lucky woman to have you join her at home."

Charles was visibly uncomfortable and looked at Elsie helplessly. He was relieved to find her as much embarrassed as he was. "You are impossible", she hissed, only Becky hearing it. "Come along", she told Charles who nodded. He was scared of what was awaiting him outside this room. The world of 2012 had already overstrained him so far inside a room no bigger than his pantry and now he would have to face an entire village. A nurse handed them Charles belongings in a bag and he grabbed it so tight that his knuckles turned pale. Everything looked so different. People looked different. He tried not to look too hard to protect his nerves. His heart was beating faster and faster the nearer they came to the exit. Stepping outside he was surprised how huge the hospital was compared to the cottage hospital he knew. He identified the metallic boxes as automobiles. There were at least tiny similarities to those he was used to. Soon it was clear to him that Downton no longer was a village, but a town. The air smelled different. The ground was different. The architecture had changed. People didn't stick to a certain style of clothes, but seemed to wear whatever they felt like. Women had short hair, were dressed like men while men shamelessly stared at necklines and backsides. Charles stayed close to Elsie who seemed to be his tower of strength. This world scared him. He didn't belong here. All Charles wanted was to get back home. But right now he depended on the kindness of a stranger.


Next: Charles meets Tommy and gets to know this very different Downton Village. A visit to the Abbey has of course priority.

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