A/N No time for the time jump :( but a bit of a characterisation for Grigg.

Enjoy.


Charles Grigg was a nice man, only a bit older than him but he had been on the road for half of his life. When he was only ten he had run away from home and ended up as a stable boy on a local estate. When one day a circus visited the town he lived in, he was drawn to this fascinating world of jugglers, wild animals, animal tamers, clowns and magicians. Without notifying his current employer he left over night and joined the circus with the plan to become famous one day. The money he earned there was never enough to leave this little group of enthusiastic hedonists. So he saved it, every penny until one day he was able to buy the horse cart that was now his home.

Charles loved to travel the country together with Grigg. There were no rules, no restrictions. They had to manage their money, could not spent a lot of it and Charles tried not to touch his savings or tell Grigg that he had actually more money than he pretended to have. Their acquaintance was still new and Charles had always been careful whom he trusted. Living at an estate such as Downton had taught him that.

During their first weeks he learned how to walk on a tight rope and to juggle. He got up early every day to practise his tricks and went to bed late at night after a successful show. The summer and autumn months of that year were the best he had experienced so far. He felt free and independent, not tied to the strict rules of a large household where he was only one replaceable small part of a much bigger organism made out of servants.

In November however their time on the road ended abruptly. The snow made it impossible to move on, most fairs had closed down in mid October already. Grigg had never spent a single thought on things like that when he had travelled on his own. He would simply stay somewhere during the winter, take on smaller jobs and live from what he had saved.

"We cannot go out in this weather." Charles tried to reason with him one morning. "Your horse is already very old. It won't survive the winter when we keep pushing it. Can't we rest somewhere for the winter?" They had spent the night in an inn close to Manchester. Rooms where not expensive and Charles would rather stay here and maybe perform at a local pub than go out into that dreadful weather again.

"We could…" Grigg stretched the word,"… but it will cost probably more than it will earn us." The last drop of beer disappeared in his mouth. Charles wanted to respond that they could save a lot of money by not drinking beer almost every night. He often preferred a glass of water or a cup of tea anyway. Alcohol clouded his judgment and his senses and he could not risk that.

"We are close to a large town. There are pubs we could perform in or small theatres. Ever thought of that?" He knew that his partner was the more experienced one when it came to survive during bad times, but Charles on the other hand had always been cautious and far-seeing, a characteristic he shared with his mother. The moment he thought about Grace Carson, his shoulders slumped and the enthusiastic glow on his face faded. He had not written her for three weeks now, had broken his promise already after only a few months.

"Of course I have. But when you're on your own it's easier to get along." He raised his hand to order another jug of beer. "So you are suggesting that we should look for a stage then?"

Charles nodded. It would be fun, he was sure of that, performing in front of a paying audience, in a real house, not out in the open where rain, storm or wind had often ruined their performance. People would come especially for them! "You placed an advertisement once, we could place another one as soon as we've found a place to perform."

The beer arrived and Grigg took a large sip. "Deal." With a handshake they sealed it.

=o=

Later that night Charles was lying on his bed, contemplating his idea and what it meant for his life. In case they found a permanent engagement he would be able to give his mother an address. It would bring her relief and him a chance to look for a job he could carry out during the day when he would not be on the stage. Maybe as an assistant in a local shop? Or as a waiter in a café? He smiled at that thought. His life was in his hands now. He could do with it whatever he wished and wanted to. This was something he should tell his mother, his father, all the people he loved and had left behind. Although it was already dark outside, he got up again and sat down at the small table in his room, dressed in his pyjamas, to write his first letter in three weeks.

He told his mother of the things he had seen and experienced, also told her that he still had all his savings and took care of those very carefully. He had already given her a detailed description of Charles Grigg and now added all the information she needed to know about their new plan. He filled two pages in his neat handwriting, read his letter again, folded it carefully and stored it underneath the pillow. Grigg sometimes had the bad habit to barge into his room at night and nose around. This was one of the few things Charles actually disliked about this man. But the positive things outweighed the negative ones.

=o=

The next morning Grigg decided to try his luck in some pubs and dancehalls he knew of. Charles stayed at the inn, looked after the horse, and then went to the post office to send his letter and a telegram. He wanted to inform his parents that they could expect a letter from him. Besides, he felt a bit guilty to not get in touch with them for so long.

All the streets were still covered with a lot of snow and he had to carefully clear a way through it. On his way, he went past several smaller shops. In each window he passed he looked for advertisements, a hint, anything that might tell him help was needed somewhere. But his search proved unsuccessful. Charles even asked at the local grocer if they knew of someone who might need a helping hand, but the answer was no. He bought himself some new shoelaces instead.

The rest of the day he spent reading at a table in the corner of the inn's dining room. Dickens, "David Copperfield", one of his favourite writers. Grigg had laughed at him when he found out that half of Charles's luggage contained books. The older men never had gotten a real education. He could read a bit, write a bit but that was all. Charles had been taught by his mother and also by Mr. Wilkinson who had helped him learn mathematics. He loved to get lost in a book or a short story. Especially when he grew up and hated hos job, the house, everything, he often sneaked into the library, picked a book, read a bit in it over night, and put it back the next day always hoping that nobody would notice it. When he found out that his mother was allowed to borrow books, he asked her to get him his favourite novels, the ones he had only read parts of. Over the years he had bought his own collection of novels.

"Waiting for your friend?" The innkeeper asked after Charles had sat there for at least two hours. "He's been gone for quite a long time now." He spat onto the floor and Charles averted his gaze disgusted by this behaviour.

"He is doing some research, Sir. This will take a while." He put down his book, risked a look at the man in front of him.

"You sure?" The innkeeper pulled out a chair and sat down, astride. "It's not the first time he's here. Usually there are some girls involved, you know what I mean?" He winked at Charles. "Maybe that's what's taken him so long."

Charles had seen Grigg flirt with everything that was female and beautiful, there was no denying it, but he trusted the man enough to believe him when he promised to find them a place to perform. The innkeeper might know him from his visits to this house but Charles had travelled with Charles Grigg for the past 3 months. "I am sure."

"Well, if you say so."


TBC