Time for another chapter :) This chapter was initially planned to be written for the EAST Alliance Conference, but I didn't finish it on time. Tom meets and bonds with a certain gentleman ;) Thank you for all the reviews and please keep them coming :)
Fighting for Your Dreams 1920
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
- John Keats – "A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever"
September 1920
Dear Sybil and Tom,
I have to admit – London does me good. The city's bustle and hustle makes me forget about everything that has happened to me lately. I feel like there's so much to do with my life – maybe I am not destined to be a wife after all?
My mood is not the only positive news, though. In line with your advice, I decided to search for a publisher. It wasn't an easy task, but in the end, I found a publishing house that is willing to publish my… novel (it seems so unbelievable to write this!). I know that they don't publish my work because it is so good; it's more about it being written by a daughter of an Earl. They feel a potential for a scandal, and the fact that I want the book published under a pseudonym spices things up and adds to the mystery.
Do I hope to make writing my career and main purpose in life? Perhaps. I'm thinking more and more seriously about it. In half an hour, I'm going to a literary meeting. There won't be only discussions about literature, but also dance, drink and nice company.
Forgive me for the shortness of my letter, but I'm really busy nowadays. Most of all, I've written it to thank you for all the advice that you gave me – both regarding my book as well as this London visit.
Hope that you and Saoirse are all well,
your sister Edith.
When Sybil read Edith's letter to Tom, he only smiled weakly. Yes, he was happy for Edith, but her letter also made him realize once more how useless he had become.
It was late afternoon, and Tom had just come for Sybil to the hospital. It was their custom; they walked together from the hospital to Downton every day. They really treasured those walks because, for some time, they had the luxury of being alone outside Downton's gates. Also, they immensely enjoyed exchanging tales about their days – Sybil's spent at the hospital and Tom's at Downton with Saoirse.
"I'm glad that you sister found a publisher. It's not an easy task…" Tom remarked.
"Of course. But her novel is really good, so I'm not in the least surprised that she found someone interested in publishing it in the end."
"I'm afraid that it's not only a matter of whether things are good or bad, love."
Sybil sensed bitterness in her husband's voice and knew exactly what had caused it.
"Darling, you know well that Edith has the advantage of the Crawley name, which of course does not diminish her talent."
"Well, I clearly do not have this advantage, " Tom replied harshly.
"I understand your bitterness…"
"You do? Then why are you against me taking the job in Liverpool?" Tom said in an accusatory tone, and after a short pause added, "I can't endure being here for much longer. Maybe Liverpool means moving backwards a little, but it at least offers us freedom, Sybil. I'm tired of living at Downton, and I'm sure that you're tired as well."
Sybil knew that Tom's bitter words were true. She was also well aware that while she could spend at least half a day at work, Tom had to spend his whole days behind Downton's gates. She perfectly understood his feelings, but yet… she also realized that it was all a trap. They would go to Liverpool, Tom would work as a mechanic, they would settle in their lives, focus on the daily life and soon forget about their aspirations and dreams. Now that they were in limbo at her ancestral home, they were searching for the best opportunity all the time…
"I know what you mean, I really do. Maybe we'll just try to become more independent from my family? We'll go outside more often and don't take part in their dinners and parties that frequently…" the young woman proposed.
"That would be no doubt appreciated," her husband muttered.
"And have you thought about the job that Matthew offered you?"
"I have. But it sounds like a good joke, doesn't it? A man who's been banished from his homeland for allegedly taking part in the burning of an aristocratic house, now does all in his power to preserve another such estate. Sounds like appropriate redemption," Tom sneered.
Sybil did not want to show that she was happy about her husband's attitude; she also did not think that the estate manager job was suitable for Tom.
"Though…" Tom unexpectedly continued, "soon I may seriously consider taking it, if nothing else comes along, which is a very probable scenario."
Sybil swallowed nervously, "This is certainly not a job that will bring your satisfaction nor is it truly moving forward. It would regress you to becoming once more my father's employee."
"Indeed. This is not a talk about ideal scenarios, though," Tom replied resignedly.
"I think that you just let bitterness take the better of you. It's so not like you, like us."
Tom looked at her questioningly, and Sybil clarified, "Remember when I couldn't get a job as a nurse in Dublin? I didn't get it three times in row. Then, I was only employed for a trial period, but I did well and they employed me full time. We're the Bransons, we fight until the hope is completely gone, and in your case it isn't."
"I don't think you understand me this time, Sybil. You've never been dependent on someone's money. Someone who looks down upon you," Tom said angrily and began walking faster so that he and Sybil were no longer walking beside each other.
They walked in silence until they reached the gates of the Abbey.
After a silent afternoon, in the evening Tom decided to go on a stroll to the village. As an Earl's "famous" chauffeur-in-law, he often attracted much annoying attention. Consequently, when he heard a voice exclaiming "Good evening, Mr. Branson", his first reaction was to grit his teeth angrily. He turned around in order to reply to the greeting and then quickly leave the place, but he was surprised by whom he saw approaching. It was Sir Anthony Strallan, the man who had jilted Edith at the altar. He hadn't seen him since that fatal day for obvious reasons; even though Sir Anthony was an old family friend, both parties understood that any meeting would cause too much awkwardness and pain. Tom liked the man and did not blame him entirely for what had happened. He was well aware that his father-in-law and the Dowager Countess did not approve of the match and had tried to dissuade both the bride and the groom from getting married. In Tom's opinion, Sir Anthony might have wanted good for Edith, but had done it the wrong way. Nevertheless, Tom had nothing against talking to the baronet.
"Mr. Branson, I want to congratulate you on the birth of your daughter. I know that I'm very late, but I didn't have any opportunity to do it earlier," Sir Anthony said awkwardly.
"Thank you. Saoirse is a beautiful and healthy girl."
"I've heard that there were some complications… hopefully Mrs. Branson is now completely fine?"
"Yes, they needed to perform a Cesarean section, but she's fine now, thank God."
Sir Anthony bit his lip nervously before asking the next question, "And how is… Lady Edith?"
An unpleasant silence fell between the two men. Tom pondered for a while what to say and ultimately answered, "She's in London, visiting her aunt. We've got a letter from her today. She seems to be in very good spirits."
The other man gave a sigh of relief, "I'm very glad that she's happy."
They now began walking together.
"She's happy because she was allowed to take her life into her own hands. Too often in the past other people decided what was best for her," Tom murmured and looked at his interlocutor pointedly.
Sir Anthony did not want to pretend that he didn't hear. "I knew… it wouldn't work in the end. She's young, she was not yet aware of all the challenges that would await us…"
"Maybe she was aware, but didn't mind them?"
Sir Anthony was surprised by Tom's boldness, and replied in a defensive tone, "How could I be a guarantee of Edith's happiness? I'm much older, my arm is disabled, her family does not accept our union… This isn't what a young, pretty and clever young woman deserves."
"Does everything need to be perfect? Maybe she's willing to fight for her dreams, like spending a life with the man she loves and who understands her. Listen – it has hardly been perfect for Sybil and me even though I'm a young, able-bodied man. However, there's still been numerous obstacles to our happiness. But we keep fighting on, and it's worth it."
"Even Edith's family thinks that I can't make her happy, and I'm an old family friend who has a title and a prosperous estate. For some parents that would be enough," Anthony muttered.
"As a member of that family, I can only express my doubts whether Lord Grantham or the Dowager Countess are best judges when it comes to Edith's happiness… I don't think that Lord Grantham understands his two younger daughters at all. He loves them, yes, but he does not understand that what's best in his opinion does not mean what's truly best for them. As such, he pays Edith and Sybil attention only when they want to do what he does not approve of. It's his way of caring, but it does not mean that he's right."
Sir Anthony was in awe of the young man's bold and honest way of speaking. It was clearly noticeable that he was not part of the culture that Anthony had been brought up in. Aristocrats never spoke openly about their familial relations, especially about difficult and delicate issues. Even the English in general were not too eager to share such things with other people.
"I… maybe Edith only wanted to marry me because she was still not married and didn't see any better prospects for herself. There's a shortage of men after the war," the baronet ultimately managed to mumble.
"Now she has an alternative. She said in her letter that she could envision herself as having a career, and that maybe she wasn't destined for marriage after all. If she comes back, and rejects you…" Tom suggested.
"How I can try to pursue her again? After I've humiliated her in front of the whole congregation? She may reject me for that reason alone…"
"At least try and fight for your dream even if this may be even more difficult than before. And perhaps this is Edith's dream as well, and from then on you'll be fighting for it together, as you should have done earlier."
Sir Anthony was deep in thought after Tom's words. His only comment to them was: "I need to turn left here. Goodbye, and all the best wishes to your family", but the young man knew that he gave the baronet food for thought.
And this conversation was cathartic for him as well.
When Tom returned to the big house, he found his wife at the nursery, putting Saoirse to sleep. It was a ritual that they always performed together, so Tom was a little taken aback that Sybil had decided to do it on her own that evening.
"It was late and you weren't coming, so I made up my mind to it alone," Sybil clarified as soon as she saw her husband.
It was only then that Tom realized how late it really was. "Sorry, darling, I've just met Sir Anthony in the village and we've talked for some time."
Sybil raised her eyebrows, but did not ask him for any explanation; they both knew that the time for that would come later, now the most important thing was to spend some time with Saoirse.
Tonight it was different, though. Normally, they smiled and looked at each other, but today Sybil was completely focused on Saoirse and did not pay any attention to her husband.
I deserve this, Tom inwardly groaned.
"I'm sorry, love. For my outburst earlier today," he stated loudly and clearly.
"Apologies accepted," was Sybil's plain answer.
It was always this way with them – they had their quarrels, but they couldn't stay angry with each other for long nor were they unable to say "sorry".
Subsequently, Sybil handed Saoirse to Tom and looked in delight at the father and the daughter. This was definitely her favourite part of the day. What she loved most was that Tom still stared in awe at the little girl; she found it incredibly moving.
Tom sat at a nearby coach and gestured for Sybil to do the same. Once she sat down next to him, he whispered, "I allowed myself recently to be overcome by bitterness and frustration. I forgot who me and you are, that we're the Bransons and we fight for our dreams until hope is completely gone. I'm sorry, love."
His wife took his hand into hers. "Our situation has been difficult lately. I understand your frustration, but I will not allow you to abandon your ambitions."
Tom only nodded in response. "I thought about the whole matter again, and well… I'll be more than happy to take care of Saoirse when you're at the hospital. I'll sit with our beautiful girl and will keep on writing… I got a job as journalist once, hopefully I'll get it soon once more. I can occupy myself even here. It's only my pride that was wounded, but now I see that it will be even more wounded if I abandon my dreams."
"Tom, as I promised to you, we need to try to become more independent from my family… we allowed them to sort of plan our life for us recently."
"Yes, we live our lives but according to their schedule. Time to be even more independent."
"Tom?..." Sybil suddenly asked in a nervous tone.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if we give part of my salary to my parents? It's nothing for them, but at least we won't be living just on their money anymore. I know that you'd prefer to earn money yourself, but…"
"No, I would not mind. It would make me feel better that we live at least partly on our money," Tom said decisively.
Sybil smiled in response.
"You know what is it time for?" Tom asked with smirk on his handsome face.
"Time for a lullaby," Sybil answered delightedly. That was her favourite moment of the favourite part of the day - Tom singing Saoirse to sleep. He had an excellent voice, and the father-child bonding always made the proud Mama melt.
Seoithín, seo hó, mo stór é, mo leanbh
Mo sheoid gan cealg, mo chuid gan tsaoil mhór
Seothín seo ho, nach mór é an taitneamh
Mo stóirín na leaba, na chodladh gan brón.
A leanbh mo chléibh go n-eirí do chodhladh leat
Séan is sonas gach oíche do chóir
Tá mise le do thaobh ag guídhe ort na mbeannacht
Seothín a leanbh is codail go foill.
Ar mhullach an tí tá síodha geala
Faol chaoin re an Earra ag imirt is spoirt
Seo iad aniar iad le glaoch ar mo leanbh
Le mian é tharraingt isteach san lios mór.*
It was an eventful day, with an unpleasant beginning, but a beautiful ending.
* An old lullaby in Irish Gaelic. Translation taken from the site mamalisa . com
Hush-a-bye, baby, my darling, my child
My flawless jewel, my piece of the world
Hush-a-bye, baby, isn't it a great joy
My little one in bed without any sorrows.
Child of my heart, sleep calmly
And well all night and be happy
I'm by your side praying for blessings on you,
Hush-a-bye, baby and sleep for now.
On top of the house there are white fairies
Playing and frolicking under the gentle moonlight
Here they come calling my baby
To draw him into their great fairy mound.
Next up: Domesticity 1919