Thanks to all of you who took the time to leave a review of the last chapter. I appreciate the reviews and your honesty. I'm sorry to have disappointed so many of you with that chapter. I once had a boss that told me I thought too much outside of the box and maybe that carries over into my writing. I'm almost afraid of posting this but I've made a few changes to this epilogue based on those reviews.
Dublin October 1937
There are times in life when you think you have everything sorted out and that the future will have no grand surprises, that life today will be much like yesterday and the day before that. Such was the beginning of 1937 for Sybil. New Year's Day had been spent with a gathering of the Branson family just like it had been since Sybil's first New Year's Day in Dublin in 1925.
While there had been a shaky start to Ena Branson's relationship with her daughter-in-law, their mutual love of Tom eventually overshadowed any misgivings. The birth of a child often has a way of forging families together and that was certainly true with the birth of Tom and Sybil's first child, Ronan, in January 1925 and that only grew as his birth was followed by Bradan in 1927, Aibreann in 1930 and Sinead in 1932.
At 75, Ena Branson would never admit to slowing down although her role in the family gathering was now more of overseeing rather than actually cooking and cleaning for the grand event. Beginning in early afternoon family and friends would drop by, some to stay for hours and others for a quick drink or bite to eat. As the day progressed conversation became a backdrop to the sounds of the fiddles, flutes and bodhram as an impromptu band with an ever changing cast played in the front parlor.
There are changes in life because of the deliberate decisions we make and then there are those changes, perhaps from unintended consequences or quirks of fate, that unexpectedly change one's life. As Sybil sat that afternoon on the first day of 1937 in her mother-in-law's dining room sipping whiskey tapping her foot to the sound of the fiddles, she had no idea of the profound changes the year would bring to her life.
In a state of disbelief at what she had just been told Sybil left the doctor's office and stepped outside into the cool October morning. It had been a gray morning, not unusual by Dublin standards, but hints of a sunny afternoon could now be seen in the rays of sunshine that filtered through the clouds and dappled the pavement. Yet the scattered rays of sunshine did nothing to brighten Sybil's mood. She slowly ambled down the bustling city street paying scant attention to where she was and with no clear destination in mind. It was only the stranger's hand tugging on her arm halting her stride and the shrill blast of a motor car horn that brought her attention to her surroundings. Quickly stepping back on the curb to let the impatient driver pass, Sybil smiled gratefully at her savior. Spotting a nearby a tea shop she decided maybe she needed a good cup of tea over which to ponder the doctor's news.
The shop was a bit fancier than those she normally patronized on the rather rare occasions she went out for tea but then again this neighborhood was much fancier than what she had become used to in her years living in Dublin. Yet it was her new neighborhood thanks to her inheritance from Uncle Harold. The year had already been an eventful one due to that very large inheritance but now with the news she had received this morning from the doctor well … she slightly shuddered thinking of the news that she still hadn't fully digested.
The tea room was almost empty so Sybil had her choice of tables and she quickly opted for one by the large picture window that faced the street. Taking her seat nearest the window, Sybil watched the passing pedestrians as she waited for her tea. The tea was hot and strong and just what Sybil needed. Holding the cup with both hands as she took several sips, Sybil was suddenly reminded of Granny admonishing her twelve year old self on the proper way to hold a tea cup. You are a Lady my dear not some ragamuffin. Never with both hands Sybil dear why do you think there's a handle? Setting the cup down on its matching saucer, Sybil faintly smiled. It had been a long time since she had thought of Granny. Sybil closed her eyes and thought oh Granny you'd have so much to admonish me about these past years not the least of which would have been Sybil's foregoing the use of her title.
Although of course she would always be Lady Sybil, it was a title she was born with and would die with, it was a form of address she stopped using when she moved to Dublin all those years ago. There had been those times when Cora visited and Sybil found it odd to be called Lady Sybil by the hotel or wait staff. But Cora Crawley had died almost two years ago now and since then no one had ever called Sybil Lady Sybil until earlier this year when she received that most unexpected phone call from the very prestigious Dublin law firm informing her of her inheritance.
Their only extravagance had been to buy a large house with a back garden for the children to play in rather than weaving around motor cars parked in the brick paved courtyard of the garage. After all those years of living in the small flat over the garage office, no longer did her two boys have to share a small bedroom nor did her two daughters. With the new house having five large bedrooms, each child was able to have their own room.
As she continued drinking her tea, Sybil's mind ran through a number of emotions including disappointment and apprehension but most of all shock. She had had four children in seven years and had thought her childbearing years were now over with her youngest child almost 7 and yet here she was unexpectedly pregnant again at 42.
For the first time in their marriage they had no money worries. Tom was considering handing over more of the day to day running of the garage to his nephew and concentrating instead on writing. With all the children in school she was considering new options of how to spend her time.
Suddenly she yearned to talk to Tom.
She stood on the pavement outside the garage just as she had done almost 14 years ago and just like then she was filled with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The only visible sign of change from that time was that the wrought iron archway over the garage entrance now read Branson's.
Tom's attention was fully engaged on the engine of a motor car as she stood silently watching him from afar. In her mind he still looked as he had that day she had first come to Dublin to find him. He was so engrossed in his work he didn't notice Sybil standing beside him until, without looking up, his hand reached for one of the tools laying on the small cart beside the car and found himself touching her hand.
"Sybil?" He was perplexed to see her here for he was sure she hadn't said anything about coming to the garage this morning. Although she was still the bookkeeper and office manager for the business she no longer came here every day.
Chewing on her lip as she always did when she was nervous she gave a small shake of her head. "I need to talk to you."
While Sybil might have had mixed feelings on her condition there was no such ambiguity for Tom. At her news he lifted her off the ground and swung her around all the while grinning from ear to ear.
London May 1948
When the cab turned into Eaton Square Mary was surprised to see the park rippling with the colors of spring as it had only been five or six weeks since she was last here and then the park was still enveloped in the drab brown of winter. It was a beautiful park thought Mary and, looking at the houses lining the road opposite the park, a much more elegant location perhaps than that of Grantham House. With that in mind she thought it might be better to sell Grantham House and keep Aunt Rosamund's house as the Crawley city house. Although Mary had to remind herself it was now Sybil's house, a fact which did cause her some resentment.
The cab came to a stop in front of the house just as a well-dressed man emerged from the doorway and stood on the top granite step. Looking rather urbane, he glanced left and right before realizing the cab had stopped right in front of him. When Mary alighted from the cab, he quickly descended the remaining steps asking if the cab was free. Giving Mary a doff of his hat and a smile that lit up his handsome face, he took her place in the cab.
Although the butler Laver had stated her sister was in the small sitting room Mary made no movement instead standing just inside the doorway looking around the grand entrance hall. She wasn't filled with nostalgia for the room had always seemed cold to her, more like a museum setting with the marble floors and all those marble busts perched on small ledges on the marble walls. Nor was she filled with grief for the sterile room was no reflection of Aunt Rosamund's vibrant personality.
Completing her review of the grand hall, she stiffened at the sight of a group of packing boxes sitting on the floor in the opposite corner of the room.
Laver was half way across the foyer when he realized Mary wasn't following him. He stopped and turned to look at her. "Madame?" he asked as if she had some intention other than seeing her sister.
Mary quickly covered the distance between them, the sounds of her heels clicking on the marble floors resonating around the room. "No need to announce me Laver" she spoke as she brushed past the butler.
Mary stopped in the open doorway of the small sitting room. Unlike many of the rooms that looked the same as they did when she was a child, this one had been updated to reflect a more modern sensibility yet it retained its sense of warmth and comfort with the overstuffed sofas and matching lounge chairs. Sybil was sitting in one of the lounge chairs that sat in front of the large picture window her face turned towards the commanding view of the back garden which was ablaze with an array of color from late spring bulbs and the early blossoms of lilacs and azaleas. Like the entrance hall, there were a couple of packing boxes on the floor only one of which had been filled as evidenced by it being taped and labeled.
While Mary, smartly dressed in a tailored suit with a hat that exactly matched the color of her skirt, her hair expertly coifed in a soft bun, looked like the wealthy society matron she was, her sister looked very bohemian dressed in black trousers, black slippers and a white blouse with small blue and purple flowers. Her dark curly hair fell just below her chin and was held back from her face by a wide strip of fabric inelegantly tied on the top of her head. Despite the informality of it, Mary was struck by how it suited Sybil. While she herself was beginning to feel old in both manner and appearance, Sybil had somehow retained a look of youthfulness.
"I see you've been busy."
The sound of Mary's voice startled Sybil yet she remained focus on the view outside the window for a few seconds before finally turning her head and looking at her sister.
"Well I want to get this done quickly since we've decided to rent out the house." If Sybil noticed Mary blanching at the last of that sentence she ignored it for she continued "most of the things that are going to you and Edith have been crated."
Without asking, Mary stepped into the room and glided to the chair opposite Sybil with an oval shaped accent table filling the space between them. Sybil placed the tea cup she was holding on the table. Although it was mid-afternoon there was a tray with a half-eaten sandwich and some cheese wedges on the table as well as a porcelain tea pot.
Before either sister could say anything, Laver walked in with another pot of tea, a matching cup and plate, and a small tray of biscuits. He set everything on the table, nodded at Sybil who rewarded him with a dazzling smile, and quietly exited the room.
Sybil settled back into the comfy lounge chair, took a bite of the sandwich and sighed in contentment.
"There was a man just leaving as I arrived." The stranger had certainly raised Mary's curiosity.
"That was Edwin" Sybil quickly replied. "He's handling the sale of the silver and art and some of-"
"You've made a rather quick decision" Mary interrupted her sister. Mary was vexed by Sybil inheriting Aunt Rosamund's house along with most of the furnishings and hoped to get Sybil to see reason that any funds or at least a portion of the proceeds should be used to strengthen Downton's finances. "Maybe you should take a bit of time, interview several candidates to handle such an important matter."
Sybil placed her sandwich back on the tray and looked directly at Mary, her face firm and her eyes steadfast. "I've known Edwin for years."
"Oh?" Mary tilted her head, quirking that eyebrow in that way she had of showing curiosity or disbelief.
"In fact it's because of Edwin I married Tom."
The tea cup Mary had just picked up loudly fell back onto its saucer. Sybil gave a small smug smile before turning to face the window as if suddenly finding the view of the garden fascinating.
Trying to compose herself Mary sputtered "He … what … how?"
Still staring out the window, Sybil quietly spoke. "When I was still living here with Aunt Rosamund, Edwin asked me to marry him. While thinking about his proposal I realized I was still in love with Tom and that I needed to find him, to settle things with him before I could think about someone else…" her voice trailed off.
Mary was momentarily too stunned by Sybil's confession to speak.
When Sybil had left the family home to move to London and live with Aunt Rosamund the family dynamics had changed but they weren't shattered until she ran off to Ireland to marry the former chauffeur. Papa had never fully accepted the fact that a former servant had become a member of his family. Mama of course had been different especially as Sybil had children and visited Sybil and her family at least once or twice every year. Now with Sybil's words Mary realized how little she really knew her baby sister. Her sister had had a choice, she had other suitors, and she had chosen the penniless Irishman.
"Do you ever regret your decision?" the words were out of Mary's mouth before she realized what she was saying.
Mary wasn't sure if it was a look of irritation or anger that crossed Sybil's face as she stood and then paced across the room and back again before stopping in front of the large picture window.
Turning to look at her sister, Sybil noted the rich fabric and cut of Mary's tailored suit, the expensive earrings with the matching necklace. Sybil's clothes were purchased off the rack. Long gone were the days when Sybil's jewelry was handmade pieces of the finest jewels such as sapphires, garnets, pearls, interwoven in settings of gold. Most of the lovely pieces she had acquired from her parents or Granny for birthdays and Christmases had slowly been sold years ago. She still had a few pieces, mostly inherited from her grandmothers or mother but her most precious piece was her simple gold band wedding ring.
Tom had invested all his savings in buying the garage and its accompanying buildings. While they always had a roof over their heads and the garage provided a good income it wasn't always enough especially as their family grew. With two strikes against her, being married and being English, Sybil hadn't been able to find employment as a nurse much to her regret. And so she had taken an active role in Tom's business, becoming the bookkeeper and running the office. There were times in those early years of their marriage where the money earned by selling a pair of earrings or a brooch or necklace paid for a needed coal delivery or new inventory stock or a new piece of equipment. It had been the greatest source of conflict between Sybil and Tom in those early years but he eventually swallowed his pride.
Of course with Uncle Harold's generosity to his nieces, Sybil could now afford such things as couture clothes and rubies and diamonds if she wanted. She had grown up in wealth and luxury. Waited on hand and foot by an array of servants, she never had to do anything not even something so simply as donning a dress or brushing her hair. Nursing had been her first taste of actually doing something, of working, but even then there was someone else to fix her meals or prepare her bath or launder her bloody uniform. Not until she moved to Dublin did she realize ….
Mary shuddered at Sybil's piercing look. "Never. I have never regretted my decision."
Honolulu July 1953
The sand was still warm beneath Sybil's feet and she couldn't help giggling as she wiggled her toes in the soft sand.
"We're definitely not in Skerries" she laughingly called out as she dashed to meet the incoming water.
Tom joined his wife in laughter as he watched her delight as the water raced ashore sloshing over her bare feet and wetting the hem of her long muumuu. The brightly colored loose fitting dress as well as his equally colorful shirt had been presents from their daughters who had insisted they all attend the luau in Hawaiian dress. He continued watching as the water fulfilled its natural course and quickly ebbed back into the ocean only to once again come ashore in an uneven pattern on the smooth white sand. Sybil turned towards him and held out her arm beckoning him to join her.
Wrapping his arm around her waist he could smell the sweet scent of the plumeria lei draped over her shoulders as if a long necklace. His own lei, made of green ti leaves and white orchids, wasn't nearly as fragrant. The leis had been another part of the luau tradition.
Sybil sighed in contentment as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Just to their left beyond the sandy beach tall palm trees gently swayed in the night, in front of them shimmering light from the full moon danced on the ocean waves as the natural curve of the shoreline ended in the distant dark shape of Diamond Head. Looming high into the sky the rim of the giant crater appeared to almost touch the full round moon.
"I think I could stay here forever" Sybil murmured dreamily.
"So you think Sir Henry would be fine with my ending my articles here?" Their reason for their trip was a series of articles Tom was writing for one of Henry's magazines comparing his travels of 30 years ago with today. Only now with the convenience of air travel his travels would be condensed into three months this year and again next summer.
Sybil suddenly pulled her head away from Tom's shoulder. "How did you ever bring yourself to leave this place?" Although she had been impressed with the American west and San Francisco this place had a special appeal to her. The crystal clear water of the ocean whose warm water was such a contrast to home. The colorful fish that inhabited those waters. As her youngest daughter had said that day at Hanauma Bay "it's like swimming in an aquarium." The fragrant smells of ginger and plumeria that perfumed the air. The lush greenery as a back drop to the colorful flowers that bloomed year round. The exotic foods many that she had never seen like mangoes and guavas. The gentle rain that briefly fell every day and the rainbows that followed.
Tom looked straight ahead as he felt himself blushing. Unlike when they had been on the American continent there were stories here he couldn't tell her and it would certainly be the same for some of the next places they would visit.
"I just finally felt I needed to move on."
Tom pulled Sybil down so they were both sitting on the sand. "In those days I was adrift and searching for something. It took me three years but I ended up realizing I missed Ireland and my family."
He paused and ran his hand through his hair. "And you" he said so quietly Sybil wasn't sure if she had heard him right.
"Tom" Sybil reached for his hand.
"Just think if I hadn't come home when I did … you … we … we wouldn't be here today … together."
At his words Sybil thought it wasn't only Tom's decision to come back that led them here. If she hadn't decided to come to Dublin … Both had made the right choice at the right time.
He placed both his hands on Sybil's face. "I wouldn't have Ronan and Bradan and the girls. I know those early years were rough for you but we came through them together. And next year we'll become grandparents for the first time and hopefully more will follow in time. I'm grateful for the chance of growing old with you."
His right hand gently caressed her cheek and then the side of her face.
"I've never loved anyone but you Sybil."
And so we've come to the end of the story. Thank you for reading and I hope there will be reviews of this chapter and/or the story as a whole