A/N Since I don't have to consider production costs, we are taking a road trip…enjoy.
Elsie walked along the street amongst the tea time crowds. The address in her hand was almost illegible now, she'd unfolded and folded the paper so many times. She had the address memorized, of course, but to see it written in Charles' bold hand was reassuring to her.
Tom had certainly surprised her with his request. He had informed her that as of that moment, she was on vacation. Her sole task was to retrieve her stubborn fiancé from Hull and return with him by Sunday noon for the final wedding preparations. Obviously, there was some worry that Mr. Carson might not return until the actual day of the wedding. Elsie could have told them otherwise, but Tom was very anxious. Lady Grantham and Anna were in on the scheme and promised to ensure that the house would not descend into complete chaos in her absence.
Mrs. Hughes had one condition. Mr. Barrow must return to under butler status and Mr. Bates must be raised to the temporary position of House Steward. The position had been absorbed into the butler position in most houses, but was still a recognized position. Unfortunately, Mr. Bates could not serve at table or Mrs. Hughes would have asked that he be acting butler. Thomas could continue to serve at table, but Elsie was not leaving him in charge of the Downton staff. Tom had agreed.
Elsie turned off the main way, the smell of sea water getting stronger. She knew little about Hull, but understood estuaries from her days in Argyll. She recognized the muddy, brackish smell of the tide flats. Hull was an interesting mixture of prosperity and industrious poverty. The neighborhood she now walked through straddled the line precariously. It had been built up quickly to accommodate the successful sailors during the height of the whaling boom. They were built for people to whom luxury was a new creature. But they'd been built with a sailor's aesthetic; no wasted space. Sailors didn't know what to do with extra space anyway, the builders had reasoned. The row of houses she now faced looked like a child's idea of elegance, wildly decorated and gaudy but crushed together. The whaling had died off and most of the current occupants were upper working class fishermen and their families. The truly prosperous had gone into shipping and moved out of this neighborhood years ago.
She stopped at the house indicated. The front of the house was wide enough for a door, but only just. It was brightly painted and showed more effort at upkeep than the doors on either side.
"Are you collecting or distributing?"
Elsie turned suddenly to the woman who had walked up behind her unnoticed. "I'm sorry?"
The woman indicated Elsie's carpet bag. "Charity? If you're collecting, we already share what we've got 'ere. And if you're handing out, thank you for the thought, but there are worse off than us, Miss."
Damn this black dress and coat. At Downton, her black attire was elegant and sensible; befitting her station. Outside of Downton she was either in perpetual mourning or she was mistaken for a preacher's wife or a nun.
"No, I'm not…that is…I'm looking for someone." Elsie stammered, uncharacteristically timid.
"Aren't we all, sweetie." This voice came from above her. A thin, wiry woman of indiscernible age was leaning out a window a few doors down from where she stood. The woman was dangling a young child from her breast. Appreciative laughter came from other windows and doorways in their immediate vicinity.
"Keep a civil tongue in your mouth, Gladys." The woman next to Elsie called up. "or I'll tell yer man about that constable that seems to come 'round more often than he aught." She winked at Elsie here.
"We're horrible starved for entertainment 'round here. And manners." She apologized in a lower voice. "Now, who is it you're looking for, love?"
"Mr. Charles Carson. Or a Mr. or Mrs. Nathan Heaton." Elsie answered, sounding bolder than she felt.
"Bless me, Suzanne; they've got your number now." Another window commented and the laughter rang between the close buildings on the narrow street.
Ignoring this, the woman beamed at her, "You must be Mrs. Hughes! Lucky I came on you when I did, this lot would have sent you on a wild goose chase." She began to usher Elsie through the now open door. "I'm Suzanne Heaton." She wiped her hands on the front of her dress and extended her right in greeting.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Heaton." Elsie shook her hand warmly as they came through to the main room of the ground floor.
"Lor' that sounds grand, just call me Suzanne or Suzy." The lady of the house threw her hat into the corner casually and gestured for Elsie to place her bag in another corner. Elsie carefully removed her hat and balanced it on top of her bag.
"Then you must call me Elsie." She followed Suzanne into the back of the building to the kitchen.
"I never expected to meet you today, Elsie. Charlie was talking like he'd be leaving us day after next." Suzanne seemed to grasp the implication of Elsie's presence here. "Has something happened at the Abbey?"
"Not really, I have been tasked with bringing Mr. Car-; Charles home a day early." It was a strange sensation to use his Christian name outside of their most private moments. But this woman knew Charles well and it was appropriate.
Elsie knew that Charles was the godfather to all three of Suzanne and Nathan's children. Nathan's friendship was the oldest in Charles' life. On the rare occasion that he left Downton for anywhere but London, this was where Charles came; for christenings or weddings usually. When Elsie first became housekeeper, she'd been curious about the letters Charles regularly received addressed in a fine and feminine hand. It was years before she found out they were from Suzanne and Nathan. "My good friend in Hull is not much for correspondence. His wife is our go between." Charles had explained one day when she had managed to casually complement the fine handwriting. She remembered the relief she'd felt. She remembered chastising herself for feeling that relief.
"The boys will be back for their supper in a few hours. Would you care for a cuppa' and a chat in the meantime?" Suzanne began stoking up the banked fire under the kettle.
"That would be lovely, thank you, Suzanne." Elsie took the offered seat at the kitchen table that dominated the warm room. Elsie felt herself being sized up as the woman filled the kettle. She tried to look around at the room with an approving expression. These were good, hard working people and their home was neat and clean, but they'd never pass muster under the eagle eye of Downton housekeeper Elsie Hughes, and the standards of Downton Abbey. Elsie reminded herself that she was not at Downton and she was a guest in this jovial woman's home.
Perhaps it was the red hair, or the fact that she was now bustling around the kitchen muttering to herself, but Suzanne reminded Elsie greatly of Mrs. Patmore. Suzanne was taller than Beryl, but she had a round, ruddy face and an all-seeing look in her eyes that was familiar. Elsie had already witnessed some of the sharp wit and tongue that Charles had told her about.
Elsie relaxed a bit more and smiled genuinely at Suzanne as she set two cups on the table next to Elsie, followed by the sugar bowl. "Do you take milk?"
"Only a splash, if it's available. Otherwise, I'm fine with just one sugar." Suzanne placed a half empty pint on the table just as the kettle began to whistle.
As Suzanne wet the tea, Elsie asked, "Charles is out on the boat with Mr. Heaton then?"
"Mr. Heaton is my father-in-law. You'd best call my man, Nathan or you'll confuse him something proper." Suzanne chuckled. "Aye, Charlie's out with Nate today. An extra set of hands always makes the work easier. And I had to get him out from under my feet, he were driving me crazy; always trying to help with things or make suggestions or compare things to how Downton were run." Elsie dropped her eyes at this. Hadn't she just been doing the same? She hoped Charles had not been rude, but Suzanne seemed like a good hearted, honest woman who wouldn't take offense easily and would call Charles on his attitude if he overstepped. "He means well, but men don't really understand how a home is run, do they?"
"Not so well as a woman, I agree." She was not about to tell Suzanne that Charles Carson knew exactly how a house was run. "Somehow, I can't see Charles as a fisherman." She said, doing some fishing of her own.
"It was what he was born to do, really, big lad like that. His granddad was a whaler, but that work dried up long back. His father was a fisherman. Charlie was born to the sea, but he never really belonged here. Everyone thought his mother was a bit uppity when his da' brought her back here, so my mum said. But she was beautiful and kind and won folks over. When she died, his father took the longer jobs and were rarely ashore. I think he wrote Charlie often, but I don't think they saw much of each other. And then his da' were drowned and he come back to live with his uncle."
Elsie stirred the sugar into her tea daintily and expertly added a dollop of milk. She knew the outline of Charles' life, when he came to Downton and when he left, how his parents had died, and even some small details about Vaudeville, but here was someone who knew it all. Elsie hoped Suzanne would continue talking. Elsie did not think she would need too much encouragement.
Suzanne had been watching Elsie's precise and delicate movements. Elsie felt more refined than usual in this rough setting and a little out of place. "I told my Nate it'd be a fine one who catches our Charlie, and bless if I weren't right."
Elsie blushed at the compliment, but changed the conversation immediately, hoping to receive more insight into the young Charles Carson.
"So you've known Charles all his life?"
"Not exactly. It's more like our families have known each other for several generations. I didn't really know Charlie until he moved back after his father died. I think he was fourteen or so. I'm a few years younger."
"What did you mean, Charles didn't belong here?" That had struck Elsie as an odd statement.
"Well, for starters, he was the only one who stayed in school past the age of eleven. He'd been attending the local school at Downton, apparently and when he moved back his uncle insisted on paying for his further education. Said it was the least he could do for his nephew."
"You can't be saying he's too smart to be a fisherman. It takes a good deal of intelligence to be good at any job." She didn't want Suzanne to feel she had to insult her own husband to build Charles up.
"Aye, it does. But I'd not say he was too smart; only too educated, too cultured. Half the time, none of us knew what he was talking about. Quoting stuff always, he was. And wasn't he always restless; always leading the neighborhood boys into some trouble or another? Always looking for some adventure or another. He'd read a book about pirates and get the idea to take one of his uncle's boats out to look for ship wrecks or smugglers in the middle of the night. They nearly got run down by a schooner once, out on the river after dark once.
"It was funny. Their group of boys weren't like the other gangs of hooligans running around in the streets. They didn't name themselves or all wear their hats just so or anything like that. Charlie was never really interested in leading. He simply did what he wanted. It just so happened there were a bunch of boys always following him around. I think it actually bothered him to feel responsible for these kids who looked up to him so much.
"To keep them busy, Charles started this scheme where some of the local kids would meet the boats as they came back and serve as runners to the fish stalls. It's always been a race to get the first fish in, and the stalls paid premium for that. The kids got a cut of the increased price. There's still a version of that going on today. It keeps a lot of kids out of trouble and more than a few families fed."
"That sounds like something Charles would do." Elsie glowed.
"That's right. He could have done more for this neighborhood too, but, like I say, he was restless. And his uncle married that hellion. He'd been talking of leaving even before they married, but once she had Fredrick, it was only a matter of time. Mr. Carson, the elder, I mean, doted on Charlie. But that wife of his didn't want anyone taking Fredrick's place or his inheritance, so she forced her husband to leave the neighborhood and eventually drove Charlie out of her home. "
Charles had never talked about his time in Hull with his uncle. She knew he would tell her about it if she asked, but they were still learning so much about each other and it hadn't struck her to ask yet. She felt a bit guilty learning this information secondhand, but she suspected Charles' version would be much more humble and she loved to hear her man complimented and admired.
"Then the carnival came and the troupe that he ran off with."
"Carnival?" Thankfully, Elsie had not been sipping her tea that the moment. It would not have been very elegant to spit tea on her hostess. Elsie knew about his Vaudeville days, but thought that was a brief time between when the 4th Earl had died and the current Lord Grantham had hired him back.
"Oh, aye. Charlie must have been nineteen. There was no more schooling available to Charlie and he'd started keeping books for his uncle, much to Mrs. Carson's vexation. One weekend, a great carnival set up in the green at Pickering Park. There were stalls and rides, but mostly it was spectacles and shows.
"There was a magician. He had a show at night, but had to make some money during the day and drum up interest. So his gimmick was that he had a trick that he defied people to solve. You paid a penny to go into the tent where he showed you the trick. If you could solve the trick, you won a half shilling. Some people went into the tent multiple times, sure that they'd figured it out, but no one could. My Nate kept pushing Charlie to give it a go. Charlie always seemed to win at the games like that. Earlier, he'd bet the guy who guessed weights that he could come closer to guessing the barker's weight than they could come to guessing his. And he'd won."
"So, finally, Charlie goes in. He was in that tent for almost ten minutes. We were starting to think he'd been Shanghaied when he finally came out; with 3 shillings. They'd shown him 6 tricks and he'd figured them all. He was about to treat us to ice creams when a dwarf came around and asked him if he'd like to attend the full show that night and visit back stage after. Of course, we were all game. He gave us special tickets and everything."
"It was just you and Nathan and Charles?" Elsie asked. She couldn't imagine the 19 year old Charles Carson that Suzanne had been describing as not walking out with some lucky girl. He was smart, had a job, was undoubtedly handsome and he sounded more than a little wicked.
"Yes, just us. We were near inseparable back then." Suzanne smiled at the remembrance.
"Charles wasn't walking out with someone, then?" She could not possibly be jealous of someone from over forty years ago, could she?
"You've naught to be jealous of, girl." Suzanne laughed at her, reading her mind. "None of the girls around here ever stood a chance. He said they were all sweet enough, but there wasn't a one that he could talk to for more than two minutes without wanting to jump in the Humber. He told me I was the exception, but since Nathan had been in love with me since we were ten, he'd never 'had a go'. I think he was kidding." Suzanne blushed in a way that told Elsie there was part of her that wanted to believe that he hadn't been.
"What happened at the magic show?" Elsie prompted Suzanne out of her brief daydream to continue her story.
"Lor' didn't they have all kinds of pyrotechnics and dwarves and half naked ladies appearing and disappearing. What a sight! It was like all the magical excitement you'd ever heard about presented in a twenty minute show. Charlie was obviously impressed and it took a lot to impress him back then."
Still does. Elsie thought but she didn't want to interrupt Suzanne now.
"At the end of the show they asked for a volunteer from the audience. Everyone in the audience raised their hands and waved them madly, except Charlie. He just leaned back in his seat smiling at all us rubes. Of course, it's Charlie they pull up on the stage. All this time, he's got a smug look on his face like he's above all this nonsense, but he's still smiling and obviously enjoying himself.
"The assistant places him with his back to a mirror that's in the middle of the stage. Then the magician takes this large sheet and brings it up in front of Charlie. The magician wasn't a very tall man, and couldn't bring the sheet up high enough to cover Charlie. So there was a funny moment where he puts the dwarf on his shoulders and hands the sheet up to him. With both his hands free the magician makes all these motions and says the magic words. Then the sheet falls and there's a poof of smoke and light and…no Charlie!
"The magician bowed to the applause and then makes to leave the stage. Of course, folks start calling for him to bring Charlie back. He makes some joke about it being a one way trip or something, but folks aren't buying it. So he pretends to give in and says some silly words and points to the back of the tent where Charlie comes walking through the tent flap as though he'd just gone to get us a bag of peanuts with a bit of smoke trailing after him.
"This causes mad applause and then the show was over. People come up to us after and wanted to touch Charlie like he's actually been transported through time and space. He rather enjoyed the attention." Elsie tried to imagine Charles enjoying attention. It was so unlike the man she knew.
"After the crowd left, the dwarf who had talked to us before came and brought us around to the back of the stage. We met the magician. His stage name was Lysander of Ptolemaida . His real name was Ernest Criswell." Both ladies shared a good laugh at that one.
"A rose by any other name…" Elsie shrugged wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
"In any event, we got the full tour and at the end of it, he offered Charlie a job.
"Of course, Charlie had to talk to his uncle, but Nate and I knew there wasn't much question. Long story short, when the carnival moved on the next week, Charlie went with them.
"We got letters from the road. They traveled all over England, Scotland and Wales. He mainly assisted back stage, but they used him in a few of the tricks. Apparently, having someone as tall as Charlie on stage with a dwarf never failed to please the rabble. He learned to tightrope walk and juggle too so he could earn extra money at the carnival between shows. His letters were happy and full of exciting stories. You'll have to ask him about that yourself because I've forgotten most of them."
"Oh, I shall." Elsie was going to need to see Charles juggling and soon.
"About a year after he joined them, their act left the carnival and joined a proper Vaudeville troupe. It was a lot more money, but Charlie didn't like the Vaudeville people as much as the carnival people. I guess the carnival folks were more like a family and the Vaudeville folks were divided out by acts, without much interaction. Also, I gathered that morals were looser with the Vaudevillians, which didn't suit Charlie.
"I think Charlie was pretty lonely during that time. He had some acquaintances, but no real friends. Less than a year later, we heard he was back at Downton as second footman."
Suzanne rose and took the cups and saucers to the sink to rinse. Elsie noticed the light coming from the back garden was much dimmer now. The early winter dusk would be coming soon.
"Shall we walk towards the dock? The boats should be in by now." Suzanne suggested. Elsie nodded. She couldn't wait to see her Charlie.
Long A/N for a long chapter- FYI, the reason I am insisting that there were two stints in Vaudeville for our Charlie is that the flyer from Season 1 episode 2 clearly reads May 14, 1897 (you don't even have to pause the show to read it). I know this is probably a production oversight, but I'm calling it canon. I don't think you take up a Vaudeville career at the age of almost 40 unless you have previous stage experience.
If you want to picture what Charles' first stint in showbiz was like, in my mind, I suggest you watch "Lost Empires" miniseries. Bonus, it features a very young Colin Firth. It's set almost immediately pre-WWI, but I think it's a good depiction of Vaudeville in Britain at the turn of the century and centers on a magic act. Since the real "Charles Carson", Jim Carter, is a juggler and trained as a tightrope walker, this seemed like a better back story than a song and dance guy. Of course, our Charlie was there in the 1870's… but show biz never really changes, does it?
One last funny thing I just have to share…I came up with the name Criswell, thinking it sounded familiar as a magician. When I looked it up, he's the guy from the beginning of Plan 9 From Outer Space. Actual quote… "We are all interested in the future for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives."
That is all, sorry the Author's Note was almost as long as the chapter. I will try to post over the weekend, but no promises.