Chapter 24
1918
Tom did not on himself some days. Not anymore. Who was he? How did he end up where he was at that moment? Where was the young Irish mick who had fallen so very much in love with the daughter of an Earl at Downton Abbey?
He did not think he was on the front lines. Not real Tom Branson.
For the life of him he did not know how he had even got there.
It was not as if he even believed in the war he was fighting. If he was fighting a war he did believe in, then he would have been in Dublin but his heart and his mind were at war with one another. His mind told him that he had to fight for his land and for his mother and his father and for his brothers and sisters...
But the trouble was his heart still ran on the young girl he had met in Yorkshire. He knew it was always going to. He still had hope he might get back to her too.
It felt as if it was in another life time - the months the two of them had been together.
When he had been with her it had seemed as if anything was possible.
But the one thing in the world which had not felt possible was for him to end up on the front line or for him to feel so very far from her. And when he thought of how he had promised her he was not going to go to war...
But it had been four years since the two of them had been with one another. Yet it felt four life times...Some days he felt as if he was not quite able to quite make himself believe that. And then there were the others...
And they were much worse. On those days he had to think to remember the sound of her voice and the curve of her nose.
He had to get back to her.
But he did not know how likely that was.
He looked about him. He saw mud... and even though he had not been in a battle for a week, he saw blood.
Disenchantment and a longing for home was everywhere too.
Surely the war had to end sometime, didn't it?
X x x
"Rosie, leave papa alone so he can have a rest."
"Hush - the last thing papa wants is for his Rosie to leave him be," the proud father said as he cupped his little girl's cheek with the arm that still worked.
Cora gave Sir Anthony an indulgent look as her two year old granddaughter continued to flirt around her father, her little golden ringlets bobbing up and down as she grab her father's arm and hide behind it.
Bending down, he kissed her forehead.
"She is the very best tonic for me," sighed the old solider.
He had been at the front for three whole years before he had been forced home due to his wounded arm. He could not say that he was sorry for it.
Those three years had been filled with moments. Happier moments than he had ever known. Moments of sadness when he felt he should be with his wife. And then there were the moments he had missed. When his Rosie had come into the world. When she had smiled at her mother for the first time. When she had rolled over for the first time.
At least she had had the generosity to wait for him to be home to walk for the first time.
"How do you feel today, Anthony?" asked Cora as she sat embroidering in the small part of the abbey which still belonged to her family. They were able to hear the soldiers playing in the room next door over the partition.
The rest of it belonged to the army now and she was never allowed to forget it.
"Brighter," he replied. But he knew he was never going to get his arm back. Or at least that was how it felt.
They told him to hope...
But the fact was he only needed one arm to get his darling down the aisle.
"Mama, I am going to have to go in to the village to post a few letters for the soldiers," Edith said as she came in to the room.
Her husband was never more attracted to her than when she was a woman on a mission and that was what she was when it came to the soldiers who were under her pastoral care.
That day she had a green shirt and a brown skirt on, her hair tied back... as well as a look of absolute love in her face when she saw her husband and their child together. He admired her from where he sat.
"Would you like to come with me?" she asked her daughter.
Rosie coyly shook her head as she hide behind her father once more. Anthony grimaced. "I know I am an invalid but I can watch our daughter."
"I know that. But you are meant to be resting."
"And I am."
"He is, mama!"
"The cheek of her," Edith shook her head as she looked Rosie with a raised eyebrow but also an amused smile.
"Be polite to mama," Anthony said gentle but firmly to his daughter.
Rose nodded solemnly.
"Is there anything I can get for you while I am there?" she asked as she crossed to him and took his hand.
"No," he said as he kissed the hand which he held.
"Just be back in time for dinner," he told her. "I will find a book to read to this one while you are out," Anthony tapped his daughters nose, making her laugh.
"Perfect," Edith replied.
After she kissed her husband and her daughter, she said good bye to her mother.
"Do you want to take the car?"
Edith shook her head.
She would be grateful for the walk.
It was a cool day when she went out into the open air and she felt as if she was able to enjoy it.
Really enjoy it. She was safe. Her daughter was safe. Anthony was safe.
The three of them were a fair way from going back to Loxley yet. Her husband was still not as well as he told those he loved the best he was, but he was going to be well. And he was not going to die at the front.
The two of them would raise their child side by side. And with any luck, they may have another child.
Ever since her husband had given her engagement ring she had lived in a constant state of fear she was not going to get to live with him as man and wife.
And yet now she knew she was. Anthony was in his fifties. The two of them still had well over a decade, maybe two or more together.
Now she was able to enjoy them without worrying there time together was going to be cut short.
And she was enjoying the time they were spending at Downton. Anthony had been moved up from the hospital five weeks ago and the two of them had been installed in her old room right away. They had slept side by side peacefully in spite of his arm for the first time since the two of them were married.
As for their daughter, she had been put straight into the nursery Edith herself had grown up in. She hoped Rosie was going to have happier memories there than she had.
So for now, all Anthony had to focus on was getting better, all Rosie had to focus was growing up in to a big healthy girl for the two of them.
She had a little more to focus on than the two of them. Not that she minded.
Once she got into the village, she went straight to the hospital. That was where her two sisters spent the majority of their time and Edith had long since learnt if she wanted to see the two of them she had to go to them.
As she went in to the hospital, the first one she saw was Mary.
She had felt as if she had to do something useful, and as Edith seem to have the non medical needs of the soldiers covered at the Abbey, she had taken on the administration at the hospital.
"How is our solider today?" she asked her sister saw her.
"Enjoying the tender care of his nurse."
Neither of them needed to clarify who they were talking about.
"Can I go up to the two of them?"
"Well, I do not think she is going to mind but I cannot speak for him."
Going up in to the ward, she saw her sister standing by the side of the bed of their childhood friend.
Larry Gray had been sent back from the front eight weeks previously. He had been in quite a state when he had come back... it had looked grim for a while...
The Crawley girls had all been concerned about him. The four of them and his brothers had played together as children and they had all already lost boys who they had grown up with in the war.
None of them had wanted to see another die.
And so Sybil had tended him as diligently as she could. And now he was on the mend.
And had regained his old charm.
"Edith, thank god you are here," He said as she approached them.
"I do not know why my coming here should be a cause for rejoicing," she smiled.
"I am hoping you are going to have more luck convincing Sybil to come to a concert with me when I am well again than I am having."
"I do not see why she should not have a little play time too."
Sybil looked at her sister. That was not the answer she had been hoping she was going to give and did not think her sister was much help to her.
However, she did not know why she had expected any different. When she did go home all she got told was that she worked too hard.
"Well then," said the injured solider as he looked at the dark haired beauty.
"She'll check her diary. I do think my work here has been done now I see that you are much recovered. I will see you soon," the blonde said as she turned on her heal and left the room.
She was not surprised that she heard footsteps behind her soon enough.
"Edith, why?" Sybil asked. "Why did you stick up for him instead of me?"
"Oh my dear, there are so many reasons why."
Sybil gave her a hard look that told her she was waiting for her to list them. "You are always here and no matter what you say you do deserve a night off."
"I can assure you that the nurses in St. Thomas work a lot harder than I do. Next."
"Because he is an old friend and you are always telling us how important it is for the recovery of the soldiers to keep their spirits up."
"So you think to do that by offering me out," she asked with a riotousness in her voice which almost amused her sister.
"Not in every case, but in the case of Larry Gray, certainly. He has always been sweet in you," Edith mused.
Her younger sister sighed as if she was setting a very heavy burden of her shoulders.
"And as if I need to give you another reason, it has been near four years since you last seemed to even look at a boy, my darling," Edith put a sisterly hand on her shoulders. "Larry is kind, good looking, and rich. Do you not think it time you forgot, Sybil?"
The girl's eyes went wide. The two of them did not have to refer to the incident to know what they were talking about.
Nevertheless, it frustrated Sybil, the way that her grandmother and her parents and even her sisters tried to eradicate Tom from her history as if the time the two of them had had together meant nothing at all.
But deep down she did not know if she was right. It had been six months she had got a letter from Tom. In it, he had said once more how devoted he was to her.
Yet it did not change the fact she had never had to go so long without a letter from him before... and she was beginning to feel a little insecure about the two of them.
As glad as Sybil was that her sisters were happy... it was not easy to watch them with the men they loved while she had no idea where her own man was. If he even counted himself as hers now...
She sat down on one of the chairs in the corridor.
"He is a good man and he could love you."
And in another life, she might have been able to love him in return.
But she just did not know if that was possible. Not anymore.
"But I think I am getting ahead of myself," Edith sighed and her sister looked up at her. "Just go and have some fun, go and smile, do not think about love. Live a little, my dear. That is all I am, saying."
And with that she turned and made for the exit of the hospital.
She had letters to post.
X x x
"Well then, I suppose we all knew this day was coming. It was only a matter of time."
When he had gone to France, he had done so he was going to be able to lead his men into battle, and he had done so time and time again. But this time it felt different. The fighting that year - well, it did not compare to the some.
However, there had been a change in his heart. When he had left, he had not thought he was going to be gone as long as he had been. It was nearing half a decade before he had spent an entire year in Yorkshire. Not one month in those four years had he had pleasure of dining with his entirely beloved Cora every evening without interruption.
The girls he had left were now well and truly women, one married with a daughter, another with full time job and a final one changed in every way from before the war.
And his son. The son he had prayed for, for so many years, barely knew him. Every time he went home, the two of them had to get to know one another again.
And then he left. And he knew it broke his Robbie's heart. Last time, his three year old darling had stood on the drive sobbing for his papa until he was out of sight.
By the time he returned, the two of them were perfect strangers again.
He wanted it over with and he wanted to go home.
Yet the only way home was to fight this war to the end.
His men all nodded to him as he came out of the headquarters where he awaited orders. He had tried to be a good captain and a good man.
And he knew to give them courage, he had to have some himself.
"Not long to go now, men," he said as he looked about at the young faces. "I could not do this if I did not know I was doing this with all of you. Never has a man had a finer battalion - and I pray that the day when I can lead you all home is soon to come."
X x x
How the hell they were meant to see anything, let alone fight, was beyond Tom Branson.
He had been out in the field for an hour and he knew the battle was a long way from over. The men he had lived with for over six months lay dead around him, their souls being washed away by the unforgiving rain that fell.
All he had to do was to get through that battle. And the next. And then the one after that too, because there was no alternative route back to her.
And his route had to lead back to her.
As ever, when they were on the battlefield, it was not long until he lost sight of his own commander. The strategies which they had been taught when they were waiting behind the lines seemed to go out the window.
The only strategy he had was to survive, and even that was not so easy when he was faced with canon and bullets.
He had to get out of there. He had to survive.
When he looked back on that day, Tom could not decide if it was luck, or if it was fate, or if it was just sheer dumb luck to be standing where he was that day when he saw what he did.
To think that destiny had brought him to the same battle field as Robert Crawley when he was not even surviving under him... to think that he had been the one to see that the Earl was in the firing line.
It all happened so fast. Later he did not even try to explain it, for he could not.
He could only say that he had nearly watched the Earl die - but had been close enough to take the bullet himself - and did so.
There was no question over his motivation. It could be summed up in one word.
Love.
Please review!
Author Note: Tom at the front line? Ugh. I know. This goes against everything his character is and believes in, but this was just the way it sort of turned out in my head when I first came up with it a few years back. I meant no disrespect to Tom and his politics, but I just needed him to be the one to save Robert's life for the story to work. I hope none of you mind too much :/