The Tea Room

August 20th, 1915

Accounts of Matthew Crawley

He fiddled around with the packaging of the cigarette in his pocket as he watched the gentle English countryside passed him by. In the distance he could see the imposing mega-structure that was the great capital of the empire. His mood had increased considerably after the incident with The Carabiniers during the Second Battle of Ypres. It wasn't the first time he had encountered an enemy but it was the first time he had surely, undeniably, killed someone. It changed him, more than he was willing to admit. At least to the world, Mary had been such a loyal and caring pen pal that he was thinking about actually telling her what was happening and what had happened to him. But he didn't want her to see him as a murderer.

The train was timely and he arrived at Paddington station a few minutes early. Matthew looked around the station apprehensively. Standing on the platform was someone familiar. The slender soft features of her face and her fiery red hair stood out to him despite only having ever met her once. Poised as ever; she scanned the windows of the train.

When the train came to a complete stop, Matthew stepped off and greeted her.

"Miss Lavinia Swire, I believe." Matthew said politely.

"You have a good memory, Lieutenant." Lavinia replied with a warm smile.

"How could I forget such a face as yours?" Matthew complimented her.

"Don't flatter me." Lavinia blushed.

"What are you doing here?" Matthew asked genuinely.

"I'm here to pick you up, actually." Lavinia answered.

"Me? Heavens, why? What have I done?" Matthew said trying to summon some of that pre-war charm.

"Nothing, silly." Lavinia giggled. "My father has invited you for lunch. He was eager to have you over once more after your last letter informed him of your leave. But he couldn't get another letter to you before you were already back."

"So Reggie sent you?" Matthew asked.

"I know." Lavinia paused. "Subtly isn't my father's strength. But, regardless. Here am I. Would you like to join us?"

Matthew paused but not for a moment too long. "I'd be delighted to."

Matthew picked up his suitcase and felt the weight of it in his hand. He looked around at the grand train station. No one noticed him. He may not have been an earl at that moment but for the past few years of his life he had been treated with great honour and privilege. But he was not that. Not here, in the city where no one knows your name if you wish it. Where you can be whomever you want. Where millions come to start their lives or reinvent themselves, here, once the feeling of anonymity came upon him, with a smiling girl on his arm, carrying his own suitcase, he felt as though there may have yet be a life for him, now and in the future.


August 21st, 1915

Accounts of Mary and Matthew Crawley

She hadn't slept that night, not much anyways. She has been nervous about seeing him, far more than she had initially thought. But she was excited about it. She hadn't told Matthew that the rest of her family had already left for Downton. She hadn't told him that she was staying in London all by herself. She hadn't told him that she waited, especially for him. There were so many things she hadn't told him. There were so many things that she felt she could only tell him in time.

Mary stood in the lobby of Claridge's nervously. She periodically stared at the clock; checking the time as often as three times a minute. The last time she had seen Matthew, he rode off on a horse. How magnificent he looked, she remembered. A world removed from the workaday lawyer she had first encountered at Crawley House all those years ago.

Not ten minutes later, he appeared at the door. Almost as he did the first time he laid eyes on her. That look of awe that he would try to hide, sometimes successfully, sometimes not, this time he was not successful. Mary descended the staircase to greet him.

"I hope you weren't lying when you wrote that I need not be formal with you." Matthew said as he took off his barrack's cap.

Mary simply smiled.

"Come, I have a table reserved." Mary said calmly.

Mary led him into the tea room and sat down at a reserved table. They took their seats tentatively. It was the first time they have sat down together, properly and alone, in two years. Matthew fidgeted with his silverware. Mary observed him curiously.

"I'm sorry for my rudeness. It's been a while since I had to eat properly." Matthew explained.

"I meant what I said." Mary said. "You need not be proper with me. Besides, I remember how much you didn't care for that type of thing anyways."

"To be perfectly honest, I do miss it." Matthew replied. "I'm afraid oatmeal and bread becomes dull very quickly."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Mary said politely.

"It's fine." Matthew said. "I'm just happy to be out of there for a little while."

"How long are you on leave for?" Mary asked.

"A few weeks. Then I'll be back in the dirt." Matthew answered with a smile.

"Did you get the book we sent you?" Mary inquired.

"Yes, I did. It is fantastic and a great way for me to pass the time." Matthew said delightedly. "Thank you so much. Thank Edith and Sybil as well."

"Of course I will." Mary said with a smile.

A few moments later the tea arrived with a waiter. Mary and Matthew sat quietly as the waiter served them. They both offered him a courteous smile before he left.

"The rest of the family are actually back at Downton." Mary continued. "I'm staying in with Aunt Rosamund until the end of September."

"You must really love London." Matthew commented.

"I'd say so." Mary answered demurely. "But the season has been very disappointing this year."

"Not many prospects I'd imagine." Matthew remarked recalling his last visit.

"I was very glad you came back." Mary said with her signature half-smile.

"Well, a chance to ride a horse again and to feel important again." Matthew smiled back while taking a sip. "How could I say no?"

"You will always be important to me." Mary said.

Matthew paused at the words. He closed his eyes for a moment and put his tea cup down on the saucer. A slow exhale emerged from his breath.

"I'd wish you wouldn't say things like that." Matthew said in a sombre tone.

"Why not?" Mary asked.

"Because it makes me want to come back." Matthew answered with a sudden quivering voice. "It makes me want to go back to Downton."

"Matthew." Mary persisted. "Downton is and always will be your home."

"No. It's your home. And I knew it was wrong then, I'm sure of it now. I shouldn't have taken it away from you." Matthew said.

"Matthew, the entail is not your fault." Mary explained.

"Maybe, but I didn't consider you then." Matthew said again, trying to keep his emotions in control. "Not as much as I should have."

"I'm still living there now and for the foreseeable future." Mary said calmly and slowly. "There's no need for remorse just yet."

"It's hard to see my future." Matthew said as he regained his composure. "I wish I could fix anything right now."

"But you can't. And you mustn't put so much pressure on yourself." Mary replied.

Again the conversation fell silent between the two. Mary looked down at her hands. She slightly pulled at her gloves. Matthew had lost his quick wit and his sunny demeanour. Not a word was said.

The sounds of the city and the ambient conversations around them had taken hold of their attention. Outside, Mary could see the faces of children playing as their mother tried to hurry them along. She watched as the mass of Edwardian fashions passed by draped on thousands upon thousands of inhabitants, none she knew, none she would ever know. Matthew lifted his gaze to observe the others in the tea room; none that he knew personally, few that he could even pick out. Even the generals in uniform, he didn't recognize. For a moment, as they sat there watching anonymously, they realized their place in their aged empire; stuck in an ever-regressing love affair, as the rest of the world forgets their existence.

"Matthew, I have to ask you something." Mary said, finally breaking their silence.

"What is it?" Matthew asked.

"Why did you kiss me last time?" Mary asked plainly.

Matthew paused once again and dropped his head.

"I was hoping that you would have already forgotten about that." He said.

"Matthew…" Mary said with a concerned voice.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to remember what your kiss felt like." Matthew finally confessed. "One last time."

"Does this mean…" Mary tried to ask.

"It doesn't matter what it means, Mary. I shouldn't have kissed you. I am truly sorry." Matthew apologized.

"Matthew, you know how I feel." Mary said echoing the words of her letters.

"I know and I'm sorry, if any of this has left you confused. And I know much of this is my fault but… I think…" Matthew suddenly stopped.

"What?" Mary urged.

Matthew considered his words. He considered what they might mean, to him and to her. He considered the future of Downton and the consequences of what he was about to and wanted to say. And he said them anyways.

"I think it is time I let you go."

Perhaps, he thought it was for the best.