In response to guest reviewers,
Suzie, that was an absolutely hilarious review to read and I immensely appreciate it! As of right now, the media will not be involved. However, you've inspired me - so I might see if I can bring something into this.
General Author's Note: As you can probably guess from the title, it's time for some heavy topics. There is going to be some humour interspersed within this chapter, but it will be mostly time to get serious.
_._
"Elsie?" Beryl would have to head into work soon, but she wanted to check in on her guest before heading out. "Elsie, love, you awake?"
The woman in question was currently still passed out, quite possibly getting the most sleep she'd gotten in weeks. Beryl couldn't resist a pleased grin at this - relieved that she wouldn't have to fight with her friend for the sixth time in twenty-four hours about taking the day off.
Quietly, the woman closed the door to the guest bedroom before making her way over to the kitchen. Upon arriving in her favorite room of the house, Beryl grabbed a piece of paper and pen before beginning to scribble a note saying that everything in the fridge was up for grabs. She then continued to make sure she was really ready for a day of teaching high schoolers before it was time to depart from the house.
Here's hoping Elsie slept the morning away and realized there was no need to even bother going to school today. And, that this silliness with the choirs was finally put to rest.
But, Beryl wasn't one to advocate pushing one's luck. So, she'd settle for just the former for the time being.
Still, the latter did have to occur at one point or another.
_._
Only a few miles away from Beryl's humble abode, three sisters were preparing for whatever the day would bring.
Mary, frankly, was hoping Mrs. Hughes would be available to work on her solo - her diction was not as perfect as she'd like it to be. And while Mrs. Butte was more proficient in German, Mrs. Hughes was far more helpful in general. The soprano also was hoping that Mrs. Butte had miraculously disappeared from Downton - her neutral opinion of the woman having sunken into immense dislike when the woman had the gall to try to subtly and repeatedly put down Anna. All attempts were unsuccessful, of course, but it was the principle of the matter that was the point.
Edith was wracking her brain on what to do with the choirs. Half of her wanted to turn in an anonymous letter to the school newspaper - and, yes, this was the same newspaper she worked for - that spelled out Mrs. Butte's unforgivable behavior. However, the other half of her recognized how devastating it would be for Mr. Carson and the choirs if that was what happened. Therefore, that other half was of the belief that she should somehow sneak a recording device into a rehearsal, provoke Mrs. Butte, and catch it all on tape. But then she'd have to deal with the ethics of having a recording device in the first place.
Sybil was so very close to just speaking up about everything not to Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Carson, but to Cousin Isobel. For, if anyone was going to be blunt and get to the point within that situation, it would be her. However, Cousin Isobel wasn't necessarily the best person to go for discretion. And even though Sybil hardly gave a flying fig about discretion in personal matters, she knew this didn't impact only her. This would hit all of the choirs if it got out.
Little did the sisters know, they'd each get the opportunity to help that issue in just a few hours.
_._
Having arrived to the choir rooms far earlier than he needed to, Charles blankly looked about the room. Had someone told him this is how the spring semester would be starting, he would have been appalled beyond belief and quite possibly would have declared them insane.
However, the truth of the matter was this was how the semester was unfolding. It really did appear that there had been some form of mistreatment - if not actual abuse - occurring within the choirs.
And, if that was indeed the case, then let it be known that Charles Carson would not be standing for it. There would be no tolerance for that sort of behavior, no second chances for anyone who repeatedly acted as such.
And that would be the case, regardless of who was the culprit.
_._
It was with more than just a small amount of dread that Andy trekked up the stairs to the second fourth floor. It wasn't just that Mrs. Butte occasionally gave him these stupid knowing looks throughout the last several weeks - as though she knew what was best for him. It also wasn't the fact that he was a few minutes late already, as well as the fact that he still didn't know how everything went with Thomas ever since their conversation yesterday. Instead, it was-
Mr. Carson?
Having gotten used to seeing Mrs. Hughes standing in the conductor's spot for the last week, the tenor was a little surprised by this change. But, the choir director was indeed standing at the front of class - looking as though he was quite ready to take charge of the choirs once more.
Not only that, he looked so invested in his current lecture that he was oblivious to Andy's late arrival - something alone that spoke of just how important the matter was. Anyone who was tardy to class was automatically lectured. Yet, it looked like the tenor lucked out today with that. And, even more interesting was the fact that Mr. Carson was already in the process of lecturing them - instead of waiting at least a few minutes.
The tenor slowly opened the door a little further, being careful to not draw attention to himself as he listened to the ongoing speech.
"I'm afraid to announce that there have been reports of serious conduct within the music department."
No way.
Andy couldn't believe that Thomas had somehow managed to do it. He'd actually spoken up to Mrs. Hughes and it looked as though Mrs. Butte was now gone.
"If one of you has had any such experience, will he please come to me? Your words will be heard in the strictest confidence."
The tenor waited by the doorway as the tension of the room shifted. It was deathly quiet, a variety of reactions scattering about. Glances of apprehension, eyes widening in relief, nudges and "subtle" elbowing - the young gentlemen remained quiet even as their actions continued to converse.
"Thank you." The choir director stated, appreciative of the fact that they were taking this seriously enough to remain quiet and think the matter over. He gave them half a minute to mull it over, hoping they realized how grave the situation was.
Only once Mr. Carson had looked back down and began rifling through his music binder did Andy sneak over to his seat towards the back. He was still in a state of shock as they began to warm-up before the choir started to refine the a cappella pieces at hand. Even while singing, he was rather unable to believe that this was actually happening.
The question now was if he should in fact speak up or just let it go.
_._
She had been woken up by the kind sensation of gentle sunlight peeking into the room. A soothing feeling, one that came from a proper night's rest and the ability to wake up naturally, stirred Elsie back to the land of conscious thought. Though, like almost anyone else waking up, it was not an instantaneous process.
Adjusting her pillow and snuggling further into the soft blankets, Elsie began to register the fact that her bed was not normally this comfortable. That her blankets were not normally this relaxing. Grogginess quickly departed, as her eyes swiftly opened to reveal that -
"Oh," Everything was coming back to her. And, it was with a feeling of faint disappointment that she settled back into the covers - taking in the situation for what it truly was.
See, for a moment, Elsie had almost been convinced that she was in an entirely different bed altogether. That if she rolled over to her side and looked, the woman would soon discover that she had the pleasure of sharing the bed with a certain someone.
However, why would that be reality?
Or, at least, the risqué thought rebelliously crept into mind, determined to take full advantage of the situation, why would that be the reality just yet?
She quickly batted away such thoughts, knowing that they were highly inappropriate - especially with everything going on currently. Yet, instead of leaving as they should've, the imaginations only multiplied.
Of course, those deviations were immediately stopped by recalling just why she wasn't already at the school. At that shift in mentality, the thoughts were quickly replaced by a concerning sentiment - a worry about the students and what had been occurring these last few weeks.
Elsie did have one consolation, thankfully: she trusted Charles Carson to make the right decision in how to handle the matter and what to do, even in her absence.
Make that two consolations, actually; the second being that, regardless of what he had to decide, she was going to be there by his side - in whatever capacity possible.
_._
"Do you think you'll say anything?" Ivy's ears picked up the curious tone of Phyllis Baxter, who seemed to be speaking to Daisy.
"Well, it's stupid to speak up, isn't it? Not like it's going to make much of a difference, anyway." Daisy countered the question pessimistically, withdrawing into herself. Ivy followed them a bit, maintaining a few steps behind them so as to not draw attention.
"What do you mean?" The younger of the two ladies shot her walking companion a look, as though she didn't see what was obvious.
"I heard that someone said Mrs. Hughes said stuff, too. And while that's not true, how much do you want to bet Mrs. Butte is just gonna more people to say stuff too?" Daisy looked away, not particularly interested in the subject. "It's stupid to speak up, that's all. The wrong people will get fired if I do."
The two singers soon deviated in their path, leaving Ivy to stand in the stairwell and pretend she hadn't been eavesdropping.
Now, she did have class in less than three minutes.
Still, that didn't mean she'd be able to focus.
Overhearing that conversation only meant that the singer was stuck thinking about why she even lied in the first place: to protect herself so Sarah wouldn't tell everyone what Ivy did this last summer. She'd been foolish to trust the alto in the first place, thinking that there would be no favors or anything between them because of the incident.
Well, she was wrong about that.
And, now, it seemed almost stupid just what she'd been roped into.
_._
Going back to lie down in bed had been a clear mistake; it was far too comfortable for Elsie to stay focused on the matters at hand if she were in bed.
Luckily, her phone buzzed only a few minutes after she laid down - providing some form of distraction.
I hope you're making sure to eat something.
Nevermind about wanting a distraction of any kind; taking a nap would be far more suitable if it allowed her to feign ignorance in this regard. Furthermore, a nap would also be far preferable to dwelling over matters she couldn't currently change.
_._
Anna had noticed the absence of Mrs. Butte and Mrs. Hughes the second she'd walked into 402 and, well, let's just say that she hadn't decided if that were a good or bad thing just yet.
"Have you seen Mrs. Butte today?" She asked John in passing, having arrived early enough to not need to go to her assigned seat just yet.
"No," He confessed, having noticed her absence as well. "Did you see Mrs. Hughes at all?"
"Nope," Anna remarked, not liking the sound of that.
Well, whatever was going on, it looked like Mr. Carson was more than ready to tell them.
_._
"So, do you think you'll speak up?"
It's what he wants to ask, that's for sure. But, Andy's just now started to want to study again for English and Thomas doesn't want to push his luck.
"Do you think I should speak up about it? Tell Mr. Carson about what happened?"
The baritone looked at his friend for a long while after being asked, not wanting to force him to go down any route but also wanting him to realize how important it was to speak up.
However, speaking up was not Thomas's decision. It would have to be Andy's.
"I think that you should do what you feel is best." He neutrally responded, continuing, "And if you're not sure what feels best, do whatever feels right."
It was almost surreal, giving such advice to his friend. Heaven knows Thomas hadn't really followed such a mentality in the past - not being one to go out of his way to always do the right thing.
But in a case like this, that really was what Thomas believed to be the piece of advice he could give.
_._
His heart dropped at the sound of those familiar footsteps making their way through the hallway of the second fourth floor. Having heard those steps traverse the steps of Downton ever since she was a little girl, he long since had memorized their elegant sound.
"Mr. Carson, I was wondering if I could have a word," Mary Crawley stood in the doorway of 402 - looking rather grim for once.
Without a shred of doubt, he knew she wasn't here to practice her solo. Not that she could, even if she wanted to - he had announced to all soloists that there'd be no lunch time rehearsal today, so that any student wishing to come forward could.
"Of course," If it weren't Mary, he'd make time to hear any student out.
"It's a matter involving Mrs. Butte, I'm afraid."
And so it began.
_._
It was during lunch when she'd received the most curious request to date. And, from Sybil of all people.
"Edith, would you be willing to talk to Daisy about everything?" Sybil asked this only once there was a very little chance of their being overheard - giving her no reason to question just what "everything" was. "Someone must've said something discouraging to her since yesterday because now she says it's stupid to speak up. And she won't listen to me or Phyllis, regardless of what we say."
"What makes you think I'd make a difference?" She was honestly confused, having been the least involved with the matter. After all, Matthew had hardly spoken to her about it, Sybil said there wasn't a need for her to help just yet, and nobody else seemed to care about the matter.
"Daisy respects you, Edith, we all do." It was the truth: the teen had been able to take charge of the school's newspaper, on top of all her other interests and responsibilities. Simply put, that was no easy feat. "And if she hears it from someone she looks up to, she might listen."
"Daisy looks up to you, Sybil," Edith protested, not sure where this praise was coming from. Sybil was the one who spent her free time volunteering in any cause that sparked her interest. Sybil was also the free-spirit of the family, the vivacious and outspoken soul that so many people admired - her family included. And Phyllis, while not a member of the Crawley family, was someone who people naturally felt comfortable around. She coaxed such an openness from the world that Edith honestly felt redundant trying to help.
"I think it'll help to hear this from someone else." The youngest Crawley sister briefly explained. Really, Daisy did like them both. But, Sybil recognized that she had been placed on somewhat of a pedestal in all of at Downton. That her word was listened to but it wasn't understood the same way that Edith's could be. And that sometimes, with her strong personality, it could be difficult to want to listen to. And, for Phyllis, it could unintentionally come off as "mother-henning" to the younger singer - making it just as hard for her to want to listen.
The middle Crawley sister thought the request over for a minute - somewhat understanding Sybil's point even if she still didn't fully understand why she of all people had been designated for the task. Still, it wasn't as though she didn't like Daisy - far from it. The younger soprano was sweet to talk to, even if Edith didn't make a habit of it.
"Alright, I'll do it."
"Thank you so much, Edith!" Sybil quickly hugged her, bringing a smile to her sister's face. "You're the best sister ever!"
"Don't let Mary catch you saying that," She warned, still somewhat pleasantly taken with the praise.
"Alright. You're the best older sister that's not the oldest of the family I could ever have!" Edith snorted at this purposefully awkward phrasing, somewhat tickled by the words. With such enthusiastic effusion, how could she say no?
Especially since this was her chance to finally help the cause.
_._
"In short, I have witnessed Mrs. Butte give rather disparaging remarks to some of the other singers, remarks that I can no longer keep to myself." Mary firmly stated, thinking of Anna as well as a few other singers who she suspected received similar treatment. "I am ashamed to admit it's taken me this long to come forward, but-" She trailed off, no longer sure of what to do or say for that matter.
"But, you could not possibly have foreseen this. There is no need for shame or any sort of apology, Mary." And he sincerely meant it.
"Alright," She conceded, before primly arching an eyebrow and sending him a piercing stare. "But I hope you realize that the same holds true for you and Mrs. Hughes. This is not something that you are to be blamed for."
He resisted the urge to scoff, for it wouldn't have really been directed at her - he could never do that. Rather, it would have been a scoff of disbelief, one that illuminated just how much of a fool he felt in light of everything.
Charles could only hope Elsie at least was in a better place.
Because he certainly wasn't.
_._
"Elsie?" Beryl had been able to step out of the band room and quickly make it back to her house for lunch - in an effort to make sure her friend had indeed been taking care of herself in her absence.
"Beryl?" It was a good sign that she found her friend in the kitchen, even better when the band director saw a plateful of homemade delicacies in front of the woman. "What brings you here?"
"I wanted to check in on you," She freely admitted, having honestly been a little concerned. Elsie shook away the concern, not being in the mood for such worry.
"I'm perfectly alright. But, I was wondering,"
"If you're about to ask me about Mr. Carson, Mrs. Butte, the choirs, or all of the above you can march yourself straight back into bed."
The choir teacher scowled at this, not having been pleased in the slightest about being cut off.
"I'll have you know that the choirs are in fact my responsibility, Beryl. That I am responsible for their well-being and their education."
"And when you've worked yourself to death worrying over something that we can do nothing about?" Elsie's eyes narrowed, her mouth thinned further, and her demeanor shifted to one more tense as she heard the same thoughts that had been bouncing around her brain for quite a few hours now.
"I am certain there's something we can do about the matter," Even if I don't know what just yet.
"You'd like something to do?" Beryl did not step out of the academy today only to discover that Elsie was stressing herself - something that was the very opposite of what she wanted. "Tell you what, go for a walk. Leave your phone behind. I'll give the spare key, and then you can go wherever you want. Or, if you haven't already, call up the repair company and start fixing your heater.
"Because if you think it'll help Mr. Carson if you magically came back for the rest of the afternoon, I'd like you to remember that both you and Mrs. Butte are currently not on the premises. So, if you were to show up, you'd only be helping her story if she somehow thinks to say that you and Mr. Carson were somehow conspiring against her."
The argument made a frustratingly good amount of sense, silencing Elsie in the process.
"Now, I'm not going to 'forbid' you from stepping foot there today, God knows that wouldn't work. But, I'm going to ask you to keep all of what I just said in mind."
The woman took in her friend's words silently, reflecting on the validity of the statement. She absolutely wanted to disagree and go back to Downton, to do something to help her charges or at least reassure them that there has indeed been a horrible mistreatment.
However, she did recognize the argument present. And as much as it irritated her to admit as such in this regard, Beryl did have a point.
"Alright. You win."
"Oh, I wish I'd gotten that on tape." The band director teasingly remarked, satisfied with the capitulation. "How much did it hurt to say that?"
"Don't push your luck, Mrs. Patmore."
"Back to 'Mrs. Patmore', are we?"
_._
It was with trepidation in her steps that Ivy climbed up to the second fourth floor. Daisy's conversation with Phyllis from earlier had haunted her whenever she stopped thinking, and created a burden she never expected.
It hadn't really hit her just what would happen to Mrs. Hughes after lying. Like, she knew it wasn't going to go well in the woman's favor, but getting fired and having Mrs. Butte stay on was not something that Ivy realized could happen.
And, really, now that she thought about it, it made sense.
It also made her feel unusually horrible about lying for Sarah.
"Ivy?" She'd reached the door to 403 long before she realized it, Mr. Carson standing in the doorway. The choir director looked a little paler than normal, a little worried now that she approached him, and the guilt doubled.
"I just wanted to say something, Mr. Carson." He beckoned her into the classroom and she followed him back inside, uncharacteristically nervous about the whole thing. This really wasn't her type of thing to get involved with - and it wasn't all that exciting for that matter. Nerve-wracking would be the better word, if she had to choose.
_._
"Don't tell me you're going to also judge me in this matter as well, Septy?" Gladys asked, a snide quality to her tone as she emphasized the ridiculous nickname. Frankly, why they were even conversing was a wonder - considering how opposite they were in nature.
"If you mean that I would judge you for using lies and fraud to get what you want within the choirs, then, yes, I will." Septimus Spratt spoke only the facts, "And I admit I'd even be disappointed."
"Oh, would you now?" Gladys dryly remarked, decidedly unimpressed by the matter. "Were you not just saying that the only reason we're speaking is because we're being forced to be partners in a class project?"
"Well," He was somewhat indignant, even if it were essentially true. "Even so, your overall insidious behavior does not dictate that you have to act in such a fashion. And certainly not when it'll harm not only Mrs. Hughes, but also the choirs."
She had just spoken of going to Carson and lying about Mrs. Hughes.
However, contrary to what Septimus probably believed, it was less about causing trouble and more about, much to her irritation, owing Sarah O'Brien a favor.
"And if this is something I don't have a choice about?" It's a little grating that someone her own year was maneuvering her down this path just because of a mistake she made. But, that was the situation and there was nothing to be done.
"We always have a choice." Septimus intoned solemnly, looking as though he really believed the words. Well, that was endearing. But, even as a teenager, Gladys knew what the world was really like. "And if you choose to do what's right you will have my respect."
She almost snorted at this, as though she needed his respect.
"I see."
_._
Matthew approached her in the hallway, knowing that she'd be walking this way to get to her last class of the day.
"Did you manage to get everyone to meet up?"
Sybil nodded, refraining from adding any more details.
"I'll text you when I can, give you an update on that."
He nodded, before turning around and heading back to class. He'd be texting Anna, Phyllis, and some of the others when it was time - their plan having been drawn together at lunch. Oh, and of course he'd have to text Thomas, too - the baritone did want any plans made to be run by him as well.
Well, with any luck, any of the afflicted students that hadn't come forward already would be willing to at least do this.
_._
The rest of the day passed much as the same: heavy and tiring for many of who just wanted to sing. Though, for the Treble Choir, Mr. Carson had said that they could come see him after school if they wanted to come forward - seeing as how none of them would have been able to during their lunch periods.
Truly, as much as he wanted Elsie by his side throughout all of this, he was a little relieved she wasn't here to experience it. He could only imagine her fury at Emma if she'd heard everything, something that he was feeling a little himself.
But, it wasn't only her anger that made him relieved she wasn't here: it was also the fact that hearing all of the horrid details - from only the few students that had come forward and not all of them, he was sure of that - were appalling enough that he suspected it was going to be very difficult to even want to be cordial or professional whenever he saw Emma next.
_._
Well, the school day was over. And it was time to make a decision.
Andy stood in front of the entrance to the second fourth floor's hallway - still undecided about the matter.
"You don't have to be alone for a moment, if you don't want to."
The tenor quickly turned to see the baritone coming up the stairs, reassurance written all over his face.
"Thank you."
And with that, it became clear what they needed to do.
_._
"Andrew, I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."
He had made it all the way into the choir room, and had even gotten past the whole politely greeting Mr. Carson. And, now that he was being asked what it was he wanted to say, all the words came to a stop for the tenor.
"Andrew?"
"Mrs. Butte." He continued staring at the ground, pretending to be little detached from it all now that it was coming out - even though his heart was racing and his eyes were very unwilling to look up. "Mrs. Butte talked to me earlier."
"This was earlier this week?" The tenor briefly glanced at his friend, hesitant to reveal specific details. But, the baritone looked as though this was Andy's secret to tell - much to the tenor's frustration.
Fine. The truth it is.
"Not quite, Mr. Carson."
The choir director waited a beat, not wanting to push the teen but also not wanting to have him get stuck in his thoughts.
"And what did Mrs. Butte say?"
Andy frowned deeply, wishing that it all didn't bother him so much. He wished that choir wasn't a class at Downton or that he could just drop the class altogether, so he could go back to the way things used to be. He wished he didn't feel so stupid for not mentioning a thing to Mr. Carson, but he also felt idiotic about feeling for wanting to.
"Andrew," Charles continued to watch him, having a horrible feeling about whatever the young singer was thinking. "What did Mrs. Butte say?"
The tenor looked up with glazed eyes, no longer having the urge to cry even if thinking about the matter was still rather unpleasant.
"She said," He almost stumbled in his words, before they began to spill out into the room. "She said that even with beginning choirs like the Bass Choir, 'some level of knowledge and proficiency is expected'. And that 'singing is not a suitable artform' for me because I've got a 'distinct' voice that's not gonna change anytime soon. So, I should just drop choir altogether. Maybe join one of the bands because Mrs. Patmore 'welcomes all levels of talent'."
Throughout his tired explanation, he found himself unable to maintain eye contact with Mr. Carson - reverting back to the floor when it came to the more painful recollections. Had he looked up, he would have seen outrage flash briefly behind the man's visage of neutrality. He would have noticed that the choir director's hands briefly fidgeted - not out of nervousness, but out of a desire to just do something.
Still, just because the actions went unnoticed didn't mean the sentiment would be lost to the tenor.
"Andy,"
Some of the fierce anger snaked its way into his tone, even as the man made an effort to kindly speak to the teen. Charles briefly reigned in the wrathful thoughts that wanted to dictate his actions before he continued, knowing that it would do no good to scare the baritone.
"You have the potential to go far with singing. Your voice is distinct if only because it's one of the few willing to fully trust your teachers. Not many can claim such a fact."
The teacher paused, needing to make sure that the tenor understand that he meant every word.
"Mrs. Butte had absolutely no right to speak to you like that. Not only is she most certainly wrong, her actions are beyond inappropriate." There was a cold bite to his words, one that gave the two teens the realization that her actions were definitely not going to be swept under the rug.
"What are you going to do, Mr. Carson?" Thomas asked, knowing Andy was probably unable to speak - if only due to the shock of having finally said what he needed to say.
"I'm going to make sure she has no further opportunity to do as such."
It was calmly spoken as he managed to maintain an even tone. That only served to make the man a more terrifying sight. Somehow, he carried an attitude that blended fury with tranquility, a rage that was far more effective than the uncontrollable wrath that many possessed.
"Andrew, Thomas, thank you for coming forth today. I sincerely hope that you both realize just how wrong Mrs. Butte is, and that you continue to give music a chance." He then concentrated solely on Andy. "However, I understand that I have failed you when it comes to stopping this from happening in the first place. Therefore, I also understand if you have no interest in continuing with the choirs."
His words struck them both in very different, impactful ways. For Thomas, the baritone was reminded why the students respected Mr. Carson. For Andy, he had just been given a reason to consider staying: he actually made a difference here.
Well, for the baritone, he was now realizing that this was the best time to reveal information that should seal Emma Butte's fate at Downton. And while that was pretty much already done, Thomas was not going to risk it.
"Mr. Carson, I'm afraid that's not it."
The choir director paused, posture stiffening further as he prepared herself for even more appalling news.
"Yes, Thomas?" The ice in his voice was meant for Mrs. Butte, true. But the baritone still felt like drawing back in fear a bit. Still, it was time to reveal the woman's foolish requests of sabotage for a second time that week.
And if that couldn't happen, he might as well set the stage to reveal just how many students she'd spoken to in such a manner.
_._
Having been told that Thomas was going to try to get his friend to speak up to Mr. Carson today, Matthew and Sybil had managed to get the others to enjoy the courtyard while waiting for any texts from the baritone.
As per usual, he didn't fail to deliver. About ten minutes after Matthew had received the first text, a second one followed.
Come upstairs now. Bring everyone you can. - TB
_._
It had been surprising to learn that Thomas had been asked to sabotage the choirs and, more specifically, to get rid of Elsie. At hearing this, his anger had risen to a level he didn't think possible.
But, when the door was opened to reveal an apprehensive Joseph Moseley, a frustrated Anna Smith, a withdrawn Daisy Robinson, a distress Claire Morris, a solemn Hannah Roberts, a distressed Henry Lang, a seemingly indifferent Ellie Bell, a weary Peter Gordon, among others…
Well, all he could hear was,
"Now, as I had been saying on the stairs, Mr. Carson, I have noticed that there have been a few singers who aren't necessarily capable of maintaining the standards of the choir they reside in…. I think I might personally reach out to some of these students, so as to help them in this matter."
He did not see red at the remembrance. He also did not seethe or foam about in rage, much as his blood boiled at the realization that this is what she meant.
"In an effort to make sure I am able to hear every individual out, I would very much appreciate it if you would all please wait in 403 and come in one at a time to speak with me. How does that sound?"
He attempted to blend kindness with serious, to take warmth and flesh it out in a grounded tone that reassured each one of the individuals before him that their words, their experiences, were incredibly important. And that he was so very sorry that this is what happened, but that he just incredibly invested to hearing each and everyone of them out.
Once he got every students consent, that's when he started the next, rather necessary, step.
"Thomas, if you could please do me one brief favor."
"Yes, Mr. Carson?"
"If you could find Cora Crawley and make sure that she remains on campus for the foreseeable future. And, please, take Andy with you." The tenor was still stunned into silence, still not able to believe that this was actually happening.
_._
Cora was only just starting to make her way out of the office when she was halted by a pair she hadn't been expecting.
"Mrs. Crawley," Thomas Branson and Andrew Parker did not look pleased to be here. Well, Thomas looked like he was almost relishing this - underneath his serious demeanor. Andrew, on the other hand, looked as though he wanted to cry.
She had no idea what on Earth had happened. But, whatever happened, she never wanted to these expressions on these students ever again.
Therefore, if it were in her power to change the situation she was about to be presented with, you can bet that Cora Crawley would be doing just that.
"What can I do for you, Thomas? Andy?" The baritone briefly took in a breath, taking the lead on speaking.
It wasn't reassuring.
_._
She'd handled the heater, cleaned up Beryl's house, gone for a very long walk, walked over to shout at the passing trains for twenty minutes in an effort to vent, and even sprinted down half a block before realizing she was a music teacher, not an athlete.
The heater would still take a few more days - no surprise there. The cleaning only helped make her feel better about having to spend more time at Beryl's. Shouting somewhat alleviated some of her anger, even though the price was the start of a sore throat. And running helped until she felt so weak for only managing half block.
All of this was only worsened by the email she received.
Hello,
A decision has been made in regards to staffing. I will be informing you both of the outcome on Monday before class begins. We will be meeting at 7:15.
Best,
Charles Carson