AN: Firstly, sorry for the ever so long delay between updates. Secondly, to everyone who reviewed last time but either never got a reply because I am too busy, or who is a guest and therefore can't be thanked personally, thank you so much for the words of encouragement. Please all of you know everything was read, noted and most of all appreciated.
There are two more chapters after this one which I hope to have up by the end of February. After that I am sensing I will take a hiatus until the summer but never fear, I have a young Cobert story lined up to write ready for next autumn (I just want to have it all written before I post it so not to give you guys long gaps and to keep my stress levels low!). I will stay around reading, of course, as I love reading everyone's ideas. And Cobert are so adorable!
Hope you all had a good festive season. Hope you enjoy this slightly shorter update, but I have grand plans for the next two!
She tucks her head against his shoulder just as she had done on the plane,and just like on the plane his hand falls to her knee and clasps her hand.
The darkened streets of London whizz passed just beyond the window of the taxi. There is no Marmaduke to transport them this time.
She shudders as a motorcyclist zooms past them, almost jumping a red light in his desperation to get to wherever his destination is. That would have been Marmaduke yesterday. That had been Marmaduke yesterday but it wouldn't be today. Never again.
She turns to look at Robert. How close they had come to falling off the rails. Saved only to be knocked down by the loss of Marmaduke. The difference is this time they would fight together.
She looks at the way his hair is tucked behind his ear and the slight crinkle of his skin at the corner of his eye, a sign that he smiles a lot. She thinks of how they laugh together. She lets her mind wander back over those early dates when she had been so nervous. She remembers the wide smile he'd use to persuade her on numerous occasions in those early years. She thinks of how he'd used it only this morning when they'd been halfway around the world between the layers of white bedding.
She had pushed this man away for months. They had wasted months of the life they both loved so much for a baby boy who was somewhere in heaven all the while begging them to find their way back to each other, why had she not realised that sooner? Why had she not taken a step back and remembered who this man was? He was the man who had given her life. In giving her a job over a decade ago he had rebuilt her life and become her best friend. He was the man she was hopelessly in love with even now, after a decade in the relationship.
They had refused to fight for all of that for months. And they might not have months left. Who knew?
Certainly life was not to be taken for granted. She never would do it again. Not now that Rosamund has been stripped of her best friend, her husband, without a backwards glance.
"Robert?" He jerks from whatever he had been thinking about, Marmaduke no doubt. "We should let Rosamund live with us for a bit."
"Um, yes."
"Company is better then solitude." He nods, lifting their joined hands from her knee and then promptly dropping her hand, it falls heavily to her leg. He leans forward with a big sigh, covering his face with his hands.
"I still can't believe it."
"Me neither. But we must focus on Roz's grief. We can grieve but we must not let it overtake helping her." She pushes her hand up over his back, following the seam of the sleeve at the shoulder, where it has been sewn into the body. "And we should be careful not to upset her any more than necessary." She says the words slowly, hoping he will catch her subtle meaning as she runs her hand along the bare skin at the nape of his neck.
"I doubt she can get any more upset. I'm not silly Cora, what do you think I'm going to do? Tell her I didn't like him?" He turns to look at her frowning before shuffling backwards. She drops her hand and pushes it onto his thigh instead.
"Of course not. What I meant was when we are together we need to be weary of what she has lost. Particularly if she is living with us, which I still think best. We can not turn her against us by exhibiting behaviour she has lost. What I'm trying to say is we shouldn't be too...cosy. Too happy. It will hurt her." He nods slowly. Before letting out a long sigh.
"You're right of course." They sit quietly for a few seconds. Each of them dancing their hand on the other's leg. His fingers twist about on her thigh, almost tickling her. "When are you not right?" He half laughs and she smiles but then lets her mouth drop. Today was not a smiling day. Today was a desperate day which she is eagerly awaiting the end of.
She thinks about that kiss this morning. How their mouths had crashed together. She can almost feel the way his fingers had left marks at her waist and the way she had grabbed a whole load of his hair as she'd tugged his mouth to hers. Desperate.
A desperation to cling to what they have. To what they had forgotten they have.
"When have you not been the very centre of my universe, Cora?" She doesn't dare lift her eyes. It wasn't like him to be sentimental and she doesn't want to spoil it, even if it is badly timed.
"Before we met maybe." She whispers it gently and he laughs, closing his fingers ever so tightly around hers. She pushes her thumb over his knuckles, slowly.
The car draws to a stop and he strokes her face. Her heart thumps loudly but not because of his closeness. They were home. Which means only that it is time to help Rosamund. He slides towards the door on his side, patting her leg one last time.
"And Cora, I will try and behave myself in front of Roz." The door opens and he slips out leaving only a harsh rush of cold air and the sound of heeled shoes on the pavement to awaken her thoughts. Now was the time to be brave. She had a sister to comfort and two young daughters to explain the perils of motorcycle riding to.
She slips out into the dark night air, her mother-in-law is waiting on the pavement dressed all in black; a harrowed look behind her eyes. This is not a promising omen of how Rosamund is, nothing fazed Violet. Robert pulls the cases from the boot but when Cora reaches to help Violet takes her hand.
"Go inside to Rosamund."
Cora walks up her own front steps. She imagined this scene. Coming home. She'd seen Rosamund stood with the girls each of whom had raced towards her as she's stepped through the door. She'd envisaged telling them all about her trip. She can imagine the blushes she may have made as Rosamund made some underhand remark. And Marmaduke was stood beside her in all those imaginings. Brightening the room with his smile and quick remarks.
That isn't the house she enters.
There are no bouncing girls greeting her (they had been tucked up in bed long ago). There is no Rosamund with a bright smile.
The hall is black, her steps echoing painfully, bouncing off the high ceiling. Elsie stands at the foot of the stairs and welcomes her home. Cora thanks her for her help regarding Venice and then walks to the only slither of light entering the room. The light from beneath the lounge door.
That room is dark as well, one singular lamp emitting a dull amber light on one of the low tables. Beside it sits a figure. A small hunched over woman.
The hum of the television is more pronounced than her breathing. Rosamund's eyes don't lift to look at her, she keeps her gaze firmly on her lap.
"Roz." Cora steps further into the room, dropping her handbag on the chair but not sure where to seat herself. Next to her? Opposite her? She doesn't know what to say either. She just keeps staring at the top of her sister's head, the once marmalade curls looking a shade much nearer to just a dirty autumn leave.
She makes a gut decision and lowers herself into the sofa beside her sister. She extends her hand across her lap into her sister's and places her hand on Rosamund's shaking ones. She says nothing but takes comfort in the hard squeeze she's feels against her fingers. Rosamund was finding some kind of comfort in her presence.
"I always liked him very much." Their hands stay intwined, Rosamund's gaze still staring at her lap. Cora focuses her gaze there too, as she talks. "He was funny and you and he were suited perfectly. I dearly hope that the memories you have of him will bring you through Roz." She hears a brief sniffle but aside from that, nothing. "You know when he dropped me and Robert to the airport last week he managed to make me smile. He told me if I didn't sort this mess out with Robert he would hold me accountable for any disasters that befell the stock market upon our return. He said his banking would definitely go array because he'd be too busy trying to work out how to bash ours heads together." There is still not so much as a movement from Rosamund. "He reminded me that both of us may have been swept along by unseen forces but as Crawley's we stick together. He was being a Crawley when he told me that Roz, and I will be one now. I will be more than that I hope; your sister. Your friend. We all loved him, nobody more than you."
Still the silence wraps around them. Robert and Violet can be heard in the hall, the scrape of suitcases on the polished floor. Elsie's Scottish accent whispers something at one point and then all is silent.
Eventually Rosamund shows a sign of at least being alive as her fingers release Cora's and she pushes her hand away before standing. Her eyes never get anywhere near Cora's.
She walks towards the door, stopping just a door away from it. Her black figure is ringed by the slight light coming from the hall. Strands of her hair turning an eerie grey colour in the musty setting.
"I didn't love him enough though. Not enough to tell him." Her voice is cloaked with tears, Cora can hear the blockage in her threat that chokes each word.
"He knew Rosamund. Never doubt that he knew how much you loved him." She shakes her head, her body still facing away from Cora, her eyes looking down.
"You don't understand..." she turns slowly on the spot and her face slowly lifts. Cora takes a very steadying breath as their eyes finally meet. Her make up is smudged beneath her eyes, possibly from this morning. Her lipstick is smeared across her cheek. It's the hollowness of her eyes that Cora can't begin to comprehend. They look as though they have been injected with a pink liquid they are so bloodshot. The white of the eye hardly contrasts with the coloured iris. Cora stands and walks forward with the intention of taking her hand, Rosamund looks like she needs medical attention. She is stopped by the hand Rosamund holds up, with seemingly forced effort, in front of her abdomen as if she is barring Cora from getting any closer. "The doctor came. It's fine."
Cora nods and takes a step away. "Of course that's not the point. He didn't know."
"Roz, trust me. Marmaduke knew you loved him." She shakes her head a fresh wave of tears rushing down her cheeks.
"No." Her hands begin to shake, and her soft curls flinch as her head moves from side to side. "No he didn't know all he should have. I didn't tell him. Now...now he's de-ead and he won't know about..."
"He won't know about what?" But her sister is consumed with her tears and races from the room. Leaving behind a single droplet of her red lipstick as a tear from her chin pools onto the piece of carpet.
Rosamund walks towards her, a picture in black. It was so unfair how little her sister-in-law seemed to age.
Cora swallows that thought as the image from all those years before flashes before her. The droplet of the single tear on the carpet. Cora should have realised. She should have known that Rosamund's statement that night had been cryptic and that, when questioned about it just the next day she had denied any reasoning for it because she was trying to hide a very big secret. But Cora should have seen through that mask. In her grief Rosamund's subconscious had spoken up and Cora should have noted it's importance. She never had of course, but if she had sat back and thought she might have worked it out.
She might have realised Rosamund was pregnant.
She could have saved the last part of Marmaduke for her sister but she hadn't. Instead her nephew's life had passed from the world without her knowledge. Without anyone's knowledge but Rosamund's.
A gloved had slips into hers, breaking her reverie. The ginger curls bob by Rosamund's ears as she leans closer to Cora.
"Mary will be find. She has the Crawley backbone." Cora only nods very gently. Roz didn't have to know her head was miles in the past. It was a good reminder of what they are here for though, and she swings herself slowly around to check Edward is still sat on the pew.
She had thought he was too little to attend a funeral. But Cora figured he was unlikely to remember any of it and in a selfish way she liked him being there. It provided her with a distraction. Mary needed love and comfort but wouldn't take it whereas Edward was quite happy to be cuddled and loved. He was the perfect way for Cora to hold herself to together and feel the value of motherhood despite the fact the daughter that needed her most was turning her away.
She gets drawn out of her thoughts by the hush that falls over the congregation as the last two members of the family step into the church.
Mary had chosen to wear a simple black dress with a small fascinator hat that had a spruce of meshing which flapped across her forehead. By her side, clutching her hand, and looking around the crowd trying to search for a familiar face, is George. His eyes are puffy meaning that at some point that morning he had cried, probably as Mary had forced him into the little suit.
George had been told he wasn't going to see Matthew again. When he'd asked after his 'dada' one night, about a day after the accident, Mary had explained to him and he hadn't asked since. No doubt it would be some time before he understood it all.
George's eyes rest on her and as they step towards the front his hand reaches out for her skirt and he removes his hand from Mary's.
Robert touches her hip as he leans over Edward's fidgeting figure between them.
"Pick him up. He looks like he needs a cuddle." Cora reaches down and scoops George onto her hip. Mary doesn't even acknowledge her. She stands in the centre of the aisle, refusing to take her seat even when the reverend asks. Instead she stares straight ahead, unmoving, at the coffin in front of her.
At this picture of Matthew that stands on the top.
George plays with Cora's necklace, his chubby fingers gracing over her bare skin. His innocent blue eyes darting up to check her features when he thinks he might have pressed or pulled too hard.
Edward still fidgets by her feet but she can hear Robert gently whispering to him on occasion and smoothing his hand on Edward's collar to get him to quieten.
Mary doesn't move until it is time for her to step up and make her little speech.
She walks up the into the pulpit, her eyes lifting to focus on the congregation. Cora can see that the don't truly focus. Her eyes move over the group but she doesn't see anyone in front of her.
"I was never a woman fortunate enough to marry hoping and believing that the words 'until death do us part' referred to a time when I was surrounded by grandchildren. Cancer has always been a horrid word, tainted by images of death and grief, Matthew's case was no different except it wasn't tainted, it was the final image. I did hope it would come at a time when I was surrounded by our children. But alas, like many things, god granted that George was to be the only child Matthew and I had before his treatments rendered his future childless." She takes a long steadying breath but all Cora can focus on is how detached from it all her daughter is. Mary might not be holding back tears as she talked but she was so detached from what she was saying she sounded like the woman who tells you how many voicemail messages you have. She was so completely overtaken by her grief and yet she hadn't shown it since the day she had found out and fallen into Cora's arms in the hallway. Cora knew that at some point she was just going to crack and her anger at life was just going to come bursting forth. She hoped it was soon.
"We talked about death of course. About how it was going to be. The plan was for me to be with Matthew, beside him as his last moments of life left him. He wanted to be surrounded by love in his pain and I wanted to be there. But as ever, that privilege has been taken from us too. Instead I sat in a morgue beside his lifeless corpse and told him a thousand things he could no longer hear. It should have upset me, being robbed of my last farewell but in truth something far better was granted to me. Matthew died in far, far less pain than he would have if he had lived to die from the brain tumour. For that I am happy to forgo my last words to him, after all he knew how much I loved him." She readjusts her hands on the podium before speaking again. "I would like to extend my support to Lavinia Swire's family and friends. She was a bright young woman who was striving to improve care for cancer patients. I did not just lose Matthew to the car crash but also a very dear friend in Lavinia. With her loss the world has also lost her pure optimism. I know Matthew would join me in saying she has made the last few months better. God bless her."
Cora watches as Mary finally rests her eyes on something. She focuses her attention on George who is still cradled on her knee. She seems distracted by George being there as if he is holding her mouth still, hesitating over her next words. She finally shifts her gaze to the coffin.
She talks on about grief, love and family but Cora is lost with thoughts of Lavinia. What had that gift meant?
Bertie had since given her the necklace and note he'd found on Matthew's person. Cora had kept them safely hidden in her room. It wasn't like her to be secretive but there was something about it all that didn't hang together. Where had Matthew and Lavinia been going that morning? And why did the note inside the box clearly address the gift to Lavinia with much love?
There's a splattering of murmuring around her which brings her back to the present. Mary had finished talking and the service was moving forward. Mary takes a seat this time, much to Cora's relieve and she lifts George onto her lap.
"I saw you tune out after I talked about Lavinia. Is there something you're not telling me?" Mary speaks under her breath between gritted teeth. Cora is at first taken aback that her daughter had noticed such a thing, wasn't she the one that had been stood in a complete daze?
Cora swallows hard, studying the lace overlay of her sleeve. Now was hardly the right time to tell her daughter that she thought her late husband had been having an affair. And yet, how could she not? How could she keep such a thing from her when she can feel Mary's hard brown eyes boring into the side of her neck. Matthew's photograph seems to stare only at her as she looks up, as if guessing that she is about to ruin the whole solace his memory might give to Mary. His eyes seem so sad as she keeps looking at him, begging for her to keep silent like a puppy might beg for food.
She swallows again and then pushes her hand towards Mary's knee.
"Not now. Later." She wonders how the words pass through her vocal cords which seem completely surrounded by a lump of sticky saliva.
"He's dead Mama. There can't be anything worse to leave behind in this church than his dead body." Her words are bitter and hissed between gritted teeth. Cora is spared a reply by the striking notes of the organ. They stand for a hymn, both her son and her grandson playing at her skirt as she tries to focus on the words before her. Mary doesn't utter one word of the song, her eyes fixed on the top of George's head. Cora doesn't dare lift her eyes as they sit again.
Her heart hammers stupidly hard against her ribs. What can she say? What lie can she fabricate that will spare Mary?
The reverend calls them into pray and Cora drops her head, pleased with an excuse that gives her eyes no reason to drift unwillingly towards Mary.
The service ends and Mary stands, George clutching at her hand once again as they follow Matthew's coffin from the church. Outside they drift to the burial site. As they stand looking at the hole, Edward trying to struggle from his father's arms to investigate, Mary adjusts her position.
"There is time now Mama. Surely what is troubling you won't take more than a minute to tell?"
"It will hurt you. Today is not the day for that."
"Nothing hurts more than today. I doubt there is anything that will send me further into the abyss I am in. I surpassed the bottom of it long ago." She utters each word with no more emotion than one might use to recite a shopping list.
Cora watches at the coffin is lowered and positioned in preparation for its descent. She watches the reverend checking his notes; collecting his thoughts. She wonders over the afterlife and heaven for a millisecond. Was this the right moment, with Matthew's body before them, still on their earth to tell Mary she thought he had been unfaithful? Would it help her own aching heart if she thought that Matthew had heard her? That he had been found out? Would that make a difference to her conscience on the matter?
"A necklace was found on Matthew's person when he arrived at the hospital. It was in a box, addressed to-"
"Lavinia." Cora had anticipated the word coming from her mouth in a small, breathy gasp. Instead, the name of her late friend is uttered from Mary just like any other word she has spoken all day.
"Mary I know we can't be sure what it means but you must know I will-"
"It was me that had brought the necklace for Lavinia. I asked Matthew to write the label and give it to her that morning. I wish she had seen it. I know how much she would have loved it." Cora doesn't have a chance to sigh in relief, or in fact to say anything before Mary's hand flies to her mouth to cover the strangled sound of pain that erupts from her. Cora doesn't hesitate in lifting George onto her hip and hugging Mary close.
As Mary cries, George looks at her bemused and Edward shuffles his way between his mother and his eldest sister clinging to their legs. She feels Robert take a step closer behind her and press a hand to the small of her back. Family would see them through. They are stronger when they stick together.
Robert finds them by the penguins enclosure. He stands back to admire them all for a second. Edward jumping by the fence and laughing as each penguin dives into the water after the fish. Cora is dressed elegantly in a red coat stood by his side, holding Marigold's hand and occasionally leaning down so she can hear what she is saying. Bertie and Edith stand arm-in-arm not too far away, their eyes locked on each other rather than those around them. The people he is most interested to observe stand directly in his path. Sybil's hat is being tugged down over her head by Tom, who leans over and kisses her nose. He proceeds to whisper something which makes Sybil laugh out loud.
Robert feels a harsh sense of deja-vu, that was the exact way he and Cora had been when they had got over the awkwardness of her past and his rather public presence. In fact, kissing Cora's nose was something he still liked to tease her with now.
He slips passed Sybil and Tom unseen, approaching Cora. Her hair is loose down her back, escaping from the wool of her winter hat. She's chatting softly to Marigold as she bends over. Edward seems to realise his mother isn't paying him any attention and turns to her. Robert knows the exact moment Edward spots him because he jumps towards his legs with a scream of 'Papa.'
Cora looks up with her eyes wide, while her cheeks shift to accommodate her smile.
"Robert! What on earth are you doing here?" He leans forward and kisses her cheek as she stands to his height. A small laugh playing on his lips.
"Well, my wife was all giddy in bed this morning about how she was taking the family to the zoo and I couldn't bring myself to miss it, so I finished my work as quickly as I could manage and rearranged a load of meetings to join you all." She rolls her eyes but seems genuinely thrilled, pushing her gloved hand into his.
"That's lovely." Before they have a chance to say anything else Edward is tugging him to the fence.
"Look Papa...penguins." Edward chatters away about the way they keep jumping into the water after the fish and he then mimics the lions he had seen early, pulling his hair from the sides of his head to try and make a mane.
Robert stops listening after a minute or so, turning his head around slightly to see what Tom was making of his appearance. Sybil is talking animatedly to Edith about something, her hand still resting in Tom's. But her boyfriend's gaze is trained completely on him where he is crouched with Edward.
Robert turns his attention back to Edward. He and Cora clearly needed to discuss Tom again. If Cora had let him come on this family trip she had obviously softened towards the man who had almost succeeded in persuading their daughter to run away.
"How about the elephants now Marigold?" Bertie comes over and crouches down next to the little girl he had agreed to become the adopted father for. Robert had been very pleased that Marigold had taken so easily to Bertie. In him he saw a man that not only made his daughter and grandchild happy but one that was a fine addition to the family and would hopefully cause him and Cora little reason to worry.
"Yes. Edward come on." Marigold reaches for Edward's hand (it was strange to think he was her uncle) and taking Bertie's they all race off with Edith laughing in their wake.
He takes Cora's hand and lifts it to rest on his elbow. Her fluffy gloves make him smile, he always thought Cora looked her most glamorous in the winter with her fine array of soft scarves, coats, gloves and hats.
"I was worried when they said they were getting married. It was so soon, particularly with all that happened with Michael but the more I see Bertie the more I'm convinced Edith will be fine." Cora nods in agreement. Robert can tell she's watching him surreptitiously but Robert keeps his ears open to the conversation his youngest daughter is having with her boyfriend.
"Tom of course he doesn't hate you."
"He does Sybil. Ever since that day I went to see him at his office he's never looked me in the eye but to scowl. He thinks I'm a bad influence on you."
"Well he's wrong. And I'll persuade him so. I've picked university's now and applied to start next year. I think I'm most likely to stay in London anyway so he can't stop you visiting me or even us sharing a flat." Robert finds himself looking down at Cora's hand resting on his elbow. Would he have wanted to be thwarted by her parents when he had first taken a liking to Cora?
He tries to reason that this is different. That the age of Sybil and her position in life is so much more vulnerable than Cora's had been. But he realises that he cannot argue that. Cora's spirit had been lost all those years ago, she hadn't known where she was in her life, or what she might want. Sybil on the other hand was clearly in control of her emotions and knew what she wanted and Robert knew his daughter well enough to know that means he has no chance of winning.
"You've made a decision about Sybil?" Cora's voice is calm by his side, a whisper against his neck. Before he has a chance to reply she smiles widely at him. "I am pleased."
"You have made yours as well then?" She sighs softly, just as he feels like doing. It seems they had both decided to admit defeat.
"I think so. The thing is, as she is hoping to go to university here in London if things don't work out with Tom she can just come and live at home again. I know it's hard Robert but-"
"I would disagree. It was hard. But looking at them now, and thinking about how we were I think I would be fighting like Tom. Besides, Sybil is never going to give in. But thinking above and beyond that we won't stop her seeing him if she stays in London. So I might as well bite the bullet!"
"Would you have fought like Tom?" Her gaze is quizzical, and her eyes slightly damp with the suggestion that he had loved her more than she had known.
"Of course. Things were different for us of course. You were fragile. But if things had been different, more fast-paced, I imagine there would have quickly come a time when we were suggesting things our parents didn't agree with." She smiles and lowers her head to rest against his shoulder as they draw up behind Bertie and Edith at the elephant enclosure.
"Robert, are you going to tell Sybil and Tom or am I?"
"I think it should be me. After all, Tom and I have quite a few bridges to rebuild after we fought so hard. I'll do it before we go home, I can still feel his eyes eating into my back. Poor man, he's waiting for me to turn around and pounce on him, I can tell." Robert watches her as she tries to subtly glance over his shoulder to look at Tom. By the way her head whips back around so quickly he guesses she was spotted. She laughs rather loudly.
"You're right. His eyes are fixed on you. Sybil is talking to him but I can tell he isn't listening to a word. Isn't it nice, to have someone so scared of you? So worried about what you think?" He takes her hand from his elbow and picks up her other one from her side. Holding them in front of him he leans to her ear with a silly grin on his face.
"I don't need to have Tom worrying about what I think and trying to earn my good opinion. I already have a very obliging wife who, still after all these years, is always insistent we do things just how I would like. Trust me darling, that boosts my pride quite enough." He looks up to find her eyebrows raised higher than ever and a wicked grin on her face—one side raised slightly higher than the other.
"You keep thinking that darling, by all means." Before he has a chance to do anything more than wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her against his chest, Edward is pestering about being lifted up so he can see better. Cora steps forward to take him as he complains in Bertie's arms.
Robert pushes his hands into his pockets. And turns on his heel towards Tom and Sybil before he can change his mind.
He doesn't need to clear his throat, or make any kind of attempt at gathering their attention as Tom is staring right at him, his hand gripping Sybil's harder and harder the closer Robert gets.
"I'm pleased you're both here today."
"Papa really, if you're going to try and stop me from-"
"Sybil, just let me finish. You will like what I have to say, I promise." She purses her lips seemingly completely convinced that she won't be but he takes her hand, preparing to direct his words at Tom. All he needs is a quick glance to his left at the last second, to see Cora stood giggling with Edward, to give him the reassurance he needs.