Chapter 9

Branson's POV

"Ouch!" my cry reverberated around the lonely garage. I withdrew my hand from the engine of the car to find a thin line of blood trickling down my hand. My concentration was non existent, I couldn't focus. Mr Bates' words dominated my thoughts. "I hope you know what your getting yourself into…both of you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Said as calmly as if he was commenting on the weather.

He didn't say much after that, a small promise of his silence paired with a pat on the shoulder before he turned to leave.

His promise should have been a cause of calmness and relief but his words continued to haunt my thoughts in the hours that followed. What we're getting our selves into? What did he mean? The social implications on Sybil if she was found with the family chauffer? Or the up and coming emotional battle that was to ensue in the next 24 hours, and the many months to come?

I pondered over this whilst wrapping a piece of cloth around the deep cut in my finger. I suppose I'll have to get used to blood and cuts, there's no doubt that I will be seeing a lot more gruesome ones very soon. As I watched the first of the blood seeping through the thin cloth; the sound of a lazy drawling voice came from the door that could only belong to one person.

"They want the car brought round." said Thomas' head which was poked around the door.

"Hang on! I've not finished working on it." I called before his head could disappear back round the door.

"That's not my problem." said the snide bastard with a thin one-sided grin and a evil twinkle in his eye, as he closed the door.

Panicked, I dove back into the engine and desperately tried to reattach the starter belt, which had caused some difficulties on the way to pick up the guests. Praying that it wouldn't slip of again until I go back, I started the car up.

I made my hurried apologies to the dowager for the delay upon arriving at the front of the house, which she dismissed with an impatient wave of her hand as she entered the car. I was surprised to find the seat next to mine occupied when I when to climb in myself.

He was the younger of the two brothers looked a few years older then myself with a cheerful demeanour, made clear by the large smile he greeted me with.

"I hope you don't mind, there's just no room in the back." he said, obviously picking up on the confusion that must have been showing on my face.

"Not at all sir." He nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing else until we left the grounds.

"So, you must be Branson?"

"That's right sir."

"Henry, Henry Gray" he said extending his hand out in greeting. "Forgive me Branson, but when Lord Grantham spoke of the political, Irish chauffer who 'poisoned his youngest daughter's mind with such radical ideas', your not what came to mind."

"Oh, in what way do I not meet your expectations, sir?" I knew I was being bold, especially as he was a guest and someone I hardly knew. But for some reason it felt like he wouldn't mind, on the contrary, he may appreciate it.

"Well, for a start you're not singing folk songs and there's not a shamrock, pot of gold or a glass of scotch in sight." he laughed, apparently my boldness was not an issue

"Very true, sir." I chuckled "However, I think you'll find that I am in fact wearing green and that scotch is more Scottish, then Irish."

He let out a louder laugh. "You are witty aren't you…no wonder you caught Lady Sybil's attention."

I didn't get a chance to reply, for Henry had barely got the sentence out of his mouth when the car let out a series of loud shudders before coming to a abrupt stop. Thankful for the excuse not to respond to Mr Gray's comment, I quickly made my way round the engine. I had just opened it up, when there was the sound of the side door closing and moments later Mr Gray was joining me in peering into the car.

"I'm terribly sorry sir, it's being a little temperamental today." I explained, "It wont take long."

"Have you enlisted yet Branson?" He asked after a time of silence as he watched me work. "I'm sure the military would appreciate your skills with machinery."

"Yes, Mr Gray, I have. In fact I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh! Well that's no good, I was hoping to get to know you…from what they said at dinner, you sound like an intriguing chap."

"Intriguing? From what I can imagine being said about me by his Lordship, the last impression I would expect someone to get of me would be 'intriguing', more along the lines of 'troublesome'."

"Indeed, I believe my mother got that impression. Then again, she's never been supportive of people being allowed to express their opinions. For someone who was raised in France, she is terribly British sometimes." he paused, "Lady Sybil on the other hand, is one of the most spirited young ladies I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She is quite the breath of fresh air."

"She certainly is." I replied, in a strained voice as I attempted to stretch the starter belt over the gear.

"I don't suppose-" he began.

"Henry, leave the poor boy alone. Let him get on with his work so we can get on." Came a shrill voice from the car, interrupting him.

"Very well Mother" he replied with a hint of boredom in his voice, as he followed her strict instruction. When he climbed back into the car it tilted to one side which stretched the starter belt that little bit more that I needed, allowing me to easily fit it back onto the cog. Shutting the bonnet with a 'bang' I joined Mr Gray in the front.

"Thank you for your help, sir" I said once we were on our way again. Now it was his turn to have the quizzical expression. "That little tip was just what I needed." I explained. He tipped his head in response.

It seemed that his mother's stern words had made there mark as he didn't speak again until we arrived at the Dowager's house. Once his mother was out of ear shot, he turned back to me.

"You wouldn't happen to know where your training base will be?"

"Mr Bates said it was just on the outskirts of Scarborough, sir."

"Ah, excellent. My father is stationed in Hull he's in command of the defence of the east coast. If I send word a head of your arrival, would you pay him a visit. I do believe that he has some contacts in the political world, and so when you return from the war I'm sure he can give you that starting step into politics. Nothing major of course, but it will get you some experience and a good position to keep an eye out for any opportunities."

He finished with a wink before he turned away, leaving me sat there barely able to splutter out my word of thanks and promise to do so. While taking in this grand offer I had forgotten entirely to ask why, when I came to my senses he and his brother where nearing the large door to the Dowager's home but I could still hear the snide comments from the elder brother.

"Getting friendly with the servants again, Harry? You'll have to watch yourself when you have your own home, they'll be wanting pay rises and extra holidays if you don't keep them in check."

I didn't hear Henry's response as the door was closed behind them moments after the words had escaped his brothers mouth.

And to think, I had just considered a change of perspective of these upper class folk.

~oOo~

August 23rd 1914

Considering what was to happen today, I slept incredibly well. If I didn't know any better I would of though this a perfectly normal day: I woke in the early hours of the morning as per usual; got dressed and headed toward the Big House; greeted those who were in the kitchen when I arrived and flicked through the servants copy of the paper whilst eating breakfast, making an occasional comment to the conversation around me.

However, this wasn't a normal day.

I didn't change into my chauffer uniform. Instead it was my pair of brown trousers and shoes, white shirt and braces, throwing a jacket over my arm as I left .

There weren't that many people in the kitchen when I arrived, most noticeable was the lack of male staff. William had left yesterday along with two other young lads from the house and three from the village.

I took my seat next to Anna, who passed me the paper. The cover composed of little un-war related issues, making room for a small article in the bottom right about a Duke of somewhere marring a Lady of something.

There was no conversation to make a contribution to. The only sounds were the clatter of pots and the occasional chink of cutlery.

Mr Bates entered the silent kitchen just as Mrs Patmore placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. Being the kind employer that he was, his Lordship had instructed Mrs Patmore that those of us who are leaving are to be given a decent breakfast, as opposed to the usual porridge. Bates hesitated at the door before taking his seat. I found myself smirking at my bacon, even though Bates would be joining me he still appeared unable to dress in a casual way. If I didn't know that his Sunday best was simply his uniform without a waistcoat, I would say that he was wearing it now. However, like me, he had his jacket on his arm, which he placed over the back of his chair.

I guess this is the way things are…the day you leave for war.

Sybil's POV

I sat at the table with a selection of breakfast food spread in front of me and a empty plate. I told Mama that I had lost my appetite, but it was more like I had lost my entire stomach.

Try as I might I could not stop glancing at the large grandfather clock behind Edith. Assuming that the trucks would arrive at the same time as previous days, I had a hour and a half until 11:30 to find Branson.

That hour and a half quickly turned to an hour. Then forty five minutes.

Unable to wait any longer I made my excuses to Mama, I left for the kitchens, that would be my first port of call. However I had only made it to the staircase before crossing paths with Papa, who looked at me in a quizzical manner.

"Sybil? Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"

"I'm afraid I've been feeling a little under the weather today and the idea of food isn't that appetising." I gave my stomach a rub complete with a pained expression to emphasis my point.

"Oh, well we can't be having that." Papa declared, "I'm just on my way to see Bates in the kitchens, why don't you come along and see if Mrs Patmore has any ginger biscuits to spare?"

'Perfect' I thought, smiling widely at my father as I made my way down the few steps to accompany him.

Once again there was a clatter of chairs when Papa and I entered the kitchen, there weren't as many people in as normal as some had been required to take up other tasks until we could hire some more staff. I barely took in Papa's request for Bates to join him in his study, as I was busy peering around him as to get a better look around the kitchen. My heart sank when I saw no sign of him.

Then Papa turned and pointedly said if there was any thing I wanted to ask for. I turned back to face Mrs Patmore, when a breeze came through the open window and, to my surprise, with the scent of summer air came a whiff of motor oil. Once again my eyes searched the room only to find that the face I was looking for was right before me. I fought hard to keep a straight face, if he was wearing his uniform I would have picked him out immediately, but in his casual clothes and a mess of hair, I barely recognised him.

"Sybil's got a bit of a upset stomach," Papa stated to Mrs Patmore. "and she was wondering if you had any ginger biscuits to spare?"

All I could do was give a small nod in agreement, all the while giving small glances at Branson, who couldn't stop his smile forming wider and wider. As Mr Bates left with Papa, Mrs Patmore had reappeared from her store cupboard with a small jar. For the excuse to be closer to Branson, I jumped forward to meet her halfway. She turned to put the biscuits on a plate, when I felt a small folded piece of paper being slotted into my left hand, I let a smile out as I gave the hand that put the note in mine the tiniest squeeze.

I accepted the plate of biscuits gave my thanks and left rather hurriedly.

Once out of sight of any prying eyes, I put the plate of biscuits on the side and opened the note. It read:

Meet me in the Garage in 5 minutes.

Perfectly giddy with excitement I just as well sprinted to the front door. It was in my sights when I was forced to reduce my speed to a dignified level, by the appearance of Francis Grey.

"Why Lady Sybil, what a pleasure to see you on this fine morning." he said in a rather oily tone as he approached, removing his hat.

"The pleasure is mine Mr Gray" I replied, trying to keep all impatient tones at bay, "if you're looking for my father, I believe he is occupied at present but if you let Carson know then I'm sure he wont be long." I had only the opportunity to think about leaving before he replied.

"Oh no matter, it is not that urgent. Were you heading out?"

"Indeed, it's such a nice day." I admitted, I could hardly say no as there would be no other destination to my given course.

"Excellent, would you mind if I joined you?"

"Of course not." I lied, "But my father will surely be done soon, wouldn't you be better off wait-?"

"Oh no it's fine, as you said it's a lovely day and it's really not that urgent that I see his Lordship, shall we?" and with that he offered out his arm which, with little choice, I took.

A more emotionally painful walk, I'm sure had never been taken by another human being.

I had originally planed that by the time we made it as far as the large Oak, which was occupied closely around the side of the house, I would have been able to conjure up some excuse, but Mr Gray hardly gave me a chance to. By the time we made it to the small lake I had rather given up hope of getting a word of protest in at all, by the Lord the man could never mind talk for England, but the whole of Europe.

I was starting to wonder if there were any topics he hadn't covered yet when I spotted a medium sized truck making it's way toward the house. Mr Gray, had noticed it too.

"I say, is that an army truck?"

Seeing my chance I quickly interjected.

"I do believe it is. I'm terribly sorry but I'm going to have to take my leave." not waiting for his reply I made a bee line to the garage entrance.

Please by there, please be there, please be there. I thought desperately.

"Your late." was the phrase that greeted me the moment I entered the garage, in the only voice I wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." I cried running over and throwing my arms around Branson's neck. "I got cornered by that Francis Gray, I couldn't escape."

"That bad huh?"

"Let's just say it got me seriously weighing up the consequences of cutting someone's tongue out." I pulled back to get a good look at him, his hands rested on my hips. "I'm so sorry."

"If I say I forgive you, will you stop apologising? Besides I've got something-"

He was cut off by the side door opening to reveal Mr Bates, who didn't look too surprised to find them there.

"I thought you would be here." he said, not indicating to either of them in particular. "The trucks here laddie…but if you want I could stall for five minutes or so." he added with a small smile. Branson and I both nodded in agreement and with another in return Bates closed the door and left.

I turned back to Branson, "You were saying?".

"That I had something for you…" he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small box. "…it's not much but believe it or not this was all my savings."

He placed the delicate package in my hands and I lifted up the lid to reveal a hair pin…the most beautiful hair pin I had ever laid my eyes upon.

It was a small pearly cream disc, a centimetre a least, with a band of gold around the outside complete with two Iris', one yellow and the other blue, painted with the greatest detail on the disc.

I couldn't speak. I was afraid that if I did the tears would come flowing to fast to control. So instead I just dove into his chest, dropped the box and with the pin in one hand grasped at his shirt. Feeling the gentleness of his arms enclose me and his kiss on my head it became impossible to control the build up of tears that were fighting to come out.

And so, for the next few minutes I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest.

When the time came to leave we clasped on to each others hands, we knew we wouldn't be seen as everyone had already gathered outside. We wandered slowly towards the entrance, enough time to dry my eyes and his shirt.

We arrived in the entrance hall and agreed that I should go first. Before I left his side I dragged him back around the corner and placed a passionate kiss on his lips, clutching both sides of his face in my hands. I gazed into his eyes and whispered that I loved him, before sweeping around the corner, tears once again swimming in my eyes and a lump in my throat.

He emerged from the house a minute later. He turned to each of my parents in turn and thanked them for there generosity. They I turn wished him the best of luck and said that he was welcome to return.

The lump in my throat grew.

He jumped into the back of the truck and took his seat next to Bates.

He was looking at me the whole time after that.

Even as the truck drove away I managed to mouth 'I love you Tom Branson.'

I saw a tear run down his cheek just as one ran down mine.

It landed on the face of the pin I had clasped tightly in my hand, which I rose and pressed against my lips as the truck vanished from sight.

~oOo~

Ok first off, I'm sooooo sorry for not up dating quickly but I hope that this long chapter help earn some forgiveness. Secondly I would just like to point out that the meanings of the flowers are that the Blue Iris symbolises Stability, Security and Tranquillity. The Yellow Iris symbolises Faith, Hope and Passion. I thought that they relate to the situation quite well.

XX Big Hugs Xx