Not her wedding day
The wedding party is conversing excitedly in the Registry Office waiting room. Mrs Patmore is wearing a new hat and the men are all their Sunday suits. Elsie is wearing her Sunday best as well and she is looking at Daisy who has been coiffed, dressed and made up by Miss Baxter.
She is looking very pretty and what's more: she is looking very happy. Beryl can be pleased that in the dress Daisy is wearing not even the faintest hint can be seen as to why the pair is rushing to the altar.
By figure of speech.
Elsie sits next to Charles, happy Lady Grantham had invited the family over for lunch at the Dower House. Mr Barrow - forever Thomas is Elsie's mind - and she will be back at the house in time to serve tea. She is allowed to enjoy the moment and to let Charles hold her hand.
Every wedding since their own has been accompanied by little routines and traditions of their own making. Holding hands, almost voiceless whispered affirmations when the questions are asked.
Today is no different and it strengthens Elsie to know her husband still loves her. That he wants her to be with him and that he wants to look after her in the ways he can, even if the certainties of their lives are crumbling.
The Registrar is a kind man who is pleasantly surprised to see so many people there to watch the bride and groom tie the knot. He takes his time, emphasises the solemn words of the oath. He hands Daisy the pen first and Elsie watches her sign the register. A tear runs down her cheek and she furtively brushes it away.
From the corner of her eye, she sees Mr Mason hand Beryl a neatly folded handkerchief. He must have brought one specially for the wedding. Ironed and all. He's a very thoughtful man, kind and caring. Beryl would be lucky to accept him, were their slow courtship to progress along those lines.
Mr Molesley is watching the young pair with unadulterated joy. He's been so unlucky for so long, but with his teaching job came confidence. With confidence came more luck. His own little house, a calling he enjoys and new friends. And an old friend who is as dedicated to him as he is to her.
Everybody is pairing up and finding a home outside a life of service.
Everyone except Thomas.
Elsie knows it would be very difficult for Thomas to find someone to share his life with. With so many people finding him 'twisted' and 'sick', there is very little chance of being free. Allowing someone to get close can be dangerous, Elsie understands that. She just wishes he could.
She watches him sign the register as Andy's witness and Elsie hopes that at least Thomas has found some sense of belonging. That he doesn't have to fight the entire world any longer. Even with the Crawleys downsizing, his position is still that of Butler to the Earl and when they go to London for the Season, he will still be the one to organise everything from the packing to the journey to the running of the London house.
Though - was Lady Mary really planning on going to live in London? Elsie can't truly believe that. Nor can she believe that the family will be happy at Crawley House. But she can't be thinking about any of that today. Or at least not now: Daisy and Andy are married and they're to be congratulated. There's hands to be shaken and happy wishes to be conveyed.
"Mr and Mrs Parker," Charles says as he shakes Andy's hand first. "Many congratulations."
"Thank you, Mr Carson," Andy replies with a big smile.
"Congratulations, Daisy," Elsie says and kisses the girl on both cheeks, careful not to get her hat tangled in Daisy's veil. "You look very beautiful."
"Thank you, Mrs Carson. I'm glad you think so. I wasn't so sure about the dress and it being white and everything."
"You'll be happy about it when you get the photographs back. Besides, nobody needs to know if they don't already."
"Ahem," Charles clears his throat as a clear indication he wants to congratulate the bride. Elsie watches him shake hands with Daisy. Daisy is so tiny standing next to him and Elsie is reminded of that time Charles walked Daisy to William.
Is Daisy thinking about William today? She must be. Elsie remembers him as a gentle boy with a strong sense of what's right and wrong. He was thoughtful and hopeful and she had felt his loss so strongly. Months passed before she could say his name without a lump forming in her throat.
From beside her she can faintly hear Daisy thank Charles for his congratulations. Elsie takes a deep breath and turns to her husband.
"There's a cake to be cut at Yew Tree Farm and I have a sneaking suspicion that won't be the only treat."
He smiles and nods. "Mr Mason is taking Andrew and Daisy in the truck and I've checked: the bus is going in ten minutes."
"You do think of everything, don't you?"
He takes her hand and places it in the crook of his arm. He gives her another half-smile and says: "As if you don't know that time table by heart."
Not her wedding breakfast
"Wait just a second, Daisy," Mr Molesley says as he sets up the camera he has borrowed from Mr Dawes. Daisy holds the knife just over the beautifully crafted cake. Beryl is looking at the newlyweds from behind the table, tears in her eyes. Andy stands behind Daisy, his hand on her shoulder.
They look very natural together. Very much at ease.
They'll be alright, Elsie thinks to herself, when finally the knife sinks through the marzipan. They get along and they aren't afraid to speak their minds. He's a bit younger than she is, but that's not of great importance. She glances at the clock. It's almost time for her to walk back to the Abbey. It's a short walk, some twenty minutes if she doesn't dawdle.
Charles is talking to Thomas. Seemingly about work. They look very serious and she can tell by the straightness of their backs and the frowns on their faces that each word they say is being weighed before it's being spoken. It can't be about anything but the sell of the house. About the changes that are about to come. About the loss of standing for Thomas - because it is something that demands respect: being Butler to an Earl and Countess in their country estate. It's not so grand when he serves tea in a small drawing room in a villa.
"So what do you think?" It's Beryl, who has taken her hat off and is holding a cup of tea.
"Lovely," Elsie replies and she means it.
"There are worse ways to start out, I suppose," Beryl continues and Elsie can tell her friend is in high spirits.
"Much worse," Elsie agrees.
"I'm a little sorry Lady Grantham wasn't there. Daisy hasn't said anything, but I know. she is a little disappointed"
Elsie shrugs. "I'm sure they would have come had they gotten married in church. And there weren't any written invitations."
Excuses Elsie conjures up to make Beryl and Daisy feel better. To try and prevent the absence of them upstairs to cast a shadow on the party.
"Do you think they're upset their assistant cook has to get married?" Beryl's whispered worry makes Elsie feel oddly protective of her friend.
"I doubt it (she doubts they give it any much thought at all, really) and if they do: that's on them. Andy and Daisy will be very happy here at the farm and Mr Mason is there to keep an eye on them and we'll… you'll pop in when you can to help out if it turns out they need it. Truly: it's going to be fine."
She kisses the Cook's cheek. "But now I must go, because we can't have Lord and Lady Grantham boil their own kettle."
"Indeed not, that would be a topsy turvy world of misrule."
It's Charles, of course, who else?
"I've spoken to Mr Barrow about it, and if you'll allow me to accompany you, I'll stand in for him this one time."
He is standing very straight and he barely looks at her, daft man. "That would be lovely, taking a stroll with my husband, before having to conform to the rules again."
Beryl laughs. "Be off with you two lovebirds," she says and almost pushes them out of the room, while Elsie waves at the party.
She glances through the door after Charles has helped her into her coat. There's Beryl, talking to Daisy, her fingers brushing Daisy's tummy. Elsie bites her lip and chastises herself. She's not much better than Lot's wife.
Not her wedding night
They are propped up against the headboard, each with their own book. His an old favourite, hers a new detective story. She enjoys them, enjoys seeing the world as a puzzle that needs solving. Her own life right now feels like a jigsaw that's fallen on the floor. All the pieces are still there, but they're in a right mess.
The afternoon had been one of the oddest she'd ever had. Charles upstairs, serving the family after she made the tea and prepared the trays with the food Beryl had made in advance. She had seen Charles's hand tremble with the weight of the silver tray and tea service and listened to him tell her about the discussion he had walked in on.
"Lady Mary doesn't want to live in Crawley House," he told her and Elsie hadn't said anything.
"She says it's impractical with the children as there isn't a day nursery."
Elsie had laughed at that, thinking that most children growing up didn't have the luxury of even a night nursery. That most children would be lucky to have a bedroom they had to share with only their siblings.
"I thought she was moving to London with Master George and Master Robert?" she had asked.
"Apparently she wants to make an effort to 'patch things up' with Mr Talbot," Charles had replied, his voice full of disdain.
"You don't approve?"
"I don't approve of men running away from their responsibilities."
She had wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.
But now they are here in bed and she can sense how tired Charles is. He's had a very full day with the wedding and the little party at the farm and then serving tea. He's not used to it anymore and Elsie is glad he has been taking those long walks to keep fit. He's gaining on seventy and she wants him with her for a long time to come.
Her hand holds down the page of the book. She's been lingering on it for a long time, having read the first line four times already. She doesn't want to think about Charles not being there with her. She doesn't want to think about how she'll be all alone in the world then.
"Go to sleep," Charles mumbles. She's not even noticed he'd put his book down. Being preoccupied with her own thoughts doesn't suit her. It makes her miss things.
"I will. Sorry. I didn't mean to keep you up."
" 's Alright. I'm just a bit tired, that's all. Been a busy day."
Elsie smiles to herself.
"Very busy. Sleep, my man." She lays down her book on the nightstand and leans over her husband. She kisses his cheek.
"I love you."