Chapter 38 – A Wedding
Duchess Violet had worked her magic once more. Even the Vicar had bowed to her wishes, knowing that to block her plan was tantamount to professional suicide.
The housemaids had gone in and decorated the room and the four-poster with garlands of flowers, to make an airy woodland scene. Mrs. Hughes nodded her head with pleasure and satisfaction when she saw the stage was set. "Mr. Mason," she said catching him in the corridor, "I hope you know that I am, well we all are, so very sorry."
Mr. Mason bowed slightly. "I am so very grateful for everything that you, Lady Edith, Duchess Violet, well… all of you… have done for William. He was never so proud as to say that he worked here in this great house." He sighed and looked down the corridor to the room where William lay and gasped for life. "He never… ever expected… all this." The man choked back tears.
Elsie Hughes touched his hand. "I know. I know. It is hard."
The old man straightened and smiled a little. "But we'll get him married good and proper! Won't we?"
"Yes," she said and looked back to see the under-maids leave the room. "The Vicar will be here at one. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"No. You've done right plenty. Far more than you should have I suppose."
"He's a fine boy; a hard worker. Always did his best."
"Yes," he sighed. "He is that. I'd better go back in. Lady Edith has been a wonder, you know."
Elsie turned when she heard the door open and Lady Edith stood there smiling.
"Mr. Mason, the room is ready. Why don't you come in now?"
Mrs. Hughes walked the man to the door and escorted him in. She stepped to the bed and saw that William was sleeping. "Poor bairn," she whispered. She caught Lady Edith's eye. "Milady, will there be anything else?"
"Yes. I'd expect we'll need a good chair for granny. She said she'll be here for the wedding."
"Of course. I'll see to it, straight away." She nodded to Mr. Mason, who stood by the bed again. As she walked downstairs she was very satisfied with the arrangements.
Just one thing was missing – the bride.
000
Daisy Robinson stood in the kitchen in the midst of the usual chaos in a daze. Mrs. Hughes told her that the room upstairs was all arranged and when she heard that she ran into the dry store room and buried her face against the shelving.
Elsie went to the girl, turned her about and looked sadly at her. "It won't take long, Daisy. Just a few minutes, if that."
"Oh, Mrs. Hughes. I… don't think... I can…" words failed her.
"Daisy, my girl, today is yours and William's wedding day. Why don't Anna and I get you dressed?"
They took her by the hand to the third floor into a spare bedroom, where they had laid out a beautiful new dress, all flowers, pink and green. In spite of herself, she thought it lovely. They stripped off her working dress and led her to the bath where they bathed her with a bubbly bath soap that Lady Grantham must use as it smelled just like her. They washed her hair and cleaned her fingernails and toenails, finally wrapping her in a long towel, drying her hair and pinning it up.
Through all this, not a word was spoken, or if they did, Daisy didn't hear them. As Anna fixed her hair she watched the little girl in the mirror become changed - changed from the kitchen dog's body into a woman - a lovely young woman on her wedding day.
It was all going so fast and there was nothing she could do to stop it. So she hid inside herself and let them do to her what they wished.
000
William struggled to breathe properly and slept often. This time he awoke to see flowers on the bed posts, window sills, and the fireplace mantle. He rested trying taking it all in. It was a wonder; so beautiful. His dad was there and Lady Edith, plumping the pillows, straightening the bedclothes. His dad shaved his cheeks of the bristles and kissed his head at the end.
Then the Vicar came in plus the indoors staff; Thomas and O'Brien, Bates and Anna, Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore; all of them.
Then Lady Edith came in escorting Duchess Violet who had done so much for him bringing him home. Home. Yes, Downtown Abbey was home to him and would be forever more.
The door opened wide and Mr. Carson slowly walked in with Daisy Robinson on his arm. There was a nimbus of light about her to his eyes, lighting up her appealing hair and the flowers there. She was an angel, an absolute angel, and he loved her so as she walked to him, and took his hand. The earlier time in the room her eyes were scared, but now she looked happy. Yes happy. That was good, he thought as he struggled for air.
The Vicar read the service saying the time honored words. Although the staff was crying, and Lady Edith had a strange expression, William's eyes were only on Daisy as Daisy Robinson was the girl he loved.
The Vicar pronounced them husband and wife and his dad gave him the gold band which he placed on Daisy's left hand. They kissed, just for a moment, as Daisy became his wife. William relaxed with relief as at least Daisy would get something, something of a pension.
The staff came to him trying to hide their tears and he knew this was goodbye. Thomas saluted him and shook his hand. Bates pressed his shoulder but could not speak. Anna and the maids tried not to let him see their tears, but they were past that point. Even gruff Miss O'Brien pressed his hand and he felt tears fall from her face onto his.
Mrs. Hughes, her Scottish face made for sorrow, came to the bed looking sadder than he'd ever seen her. "Well, you two are married. That much is done." She hugged Daisy and kissed her forehead then knelt down by his bed. "William, oh William. Rest well."
William rested his hand on her head for a moment and then she fled from the room.
Mr. Carson's face looked like it would come apart from the grief it showed. William stopped that from happening by gasping out, "It's all right, Mr. Carson. I'll be fine."
The butler bent down and took his hand. He said to him, "You are a good man, William. You'd have had my job someday."
All William could do by then was nod and smile.
Carson kissed Daisy on the cheek. "My girl. Congratulations."
Carson stepped aside so Lady Edith and Duchess Violet could approach.
"You rest my boy. Nothing to worry about now is there?" the old woman said. She smelled of verbena and powder and smiled at him through her lined face. "You rest well, son."
Lady Edith pressed his shoulder. "Be back soon," then she and Carson walked Duchess Violet from the room.
William looked up to Daisy, who was now smiling holding his hand once more. Married, they were actually married. He smiled at her as she squeezed his hand.
000
Out in the hallway, Violet stood between Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. "Well, that went very well, didn't it Vicar?" she said, her blue eyes piercing.
The Vicar nodded sagely.
"Very solemn and holy, wasn't it Vicar?" Violet went on.
The Vicar cleared his throat and kept a level tone. "Duchess, it was the very best I could manage on such short notice. I trust you found it… acceptable, milady."
"Oh more than acceptable. Much more." The old lady took his arm. "You did very well, my man. Now help an old woman down the stairs and we'll have a brandy. Don't know about you but I certainly need one."
Lady Edith watched her go, knowing that nothing would have happened but for granny. She went back in to tend the dying man.
Mr. Carson took Mrs. Hughes by the arm and they slowly walked downstairs.
000
Hours passed, the whole afternoon and into the evening, and at the end, William felt Daisy's hand in his. As he slipped away the shadows with growing on all sides, he remembered what Timothy Speakes said.
"Right. Well if no one is trying to kill you from the air, or the ground, and it's a nice day, you can get up above the clouds and smoke. The sun is shining, the air is cold, but clean, and when you look all around – the sky, the land – it feels like you could fly forever. Like a bird."
"Sounds lovely," William had answered.
"It is, my lad, it is. Heaven – that's what I think flying is. Heaven."
William felt Daisy's hand in his, and sensed his father nearby, while Lady Edith and Daisy talked. Then his dad lifted his hands and put them together, almost like praying. Yes that was it. William had his eyes closed now, and was at rest, almost praying. He relaxed as he felt his legs and feet go numb.
Mr. Mason put his hand on his boy's shoulder. "There, there. It's all right, son," he whispered.
The bedclothes lifted off William's battered body and he couldn't breathe well, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He wished for so many things – things that would never happen now.
He wanted to tell Daisy that he was thankful, so thankful for what she'd done. He was married and now, at last the war was over and he could rest.
Tim Speakes' words came back to him once more but William wished to correct the man. He felt light, weightless as a feather, and his tired body seemed to drift upward.
No, Speakes, he wished to say. You were wrong. So, so wrong. Heaven is flying, was his last thought.
Mrs. Patmore was trying to get Daisy to leave for a few moments saying she must be exhausted. "I'll sit with him, you go and rest. Poor dear. You must be all worn out."
"No, I'll stay. I must stay. He needs me now," said Mrs. William Mason.
Mr. Mason knew the signs. He'd seen them when his dear wife Paula was taken by the cancer. He watched as William breathed slower and slower, each breath taking many seconds. Finally he said sadly, "Daisy, he don't need any of us for anything now."
Daisy turned to look at William and wondered at that fateful and awe filled moment, where he had gone. She wiped a single tear from her eyes then bent down and kissed her husband.
Mrs. Patmore began to cry and so did Lady Edith as Mr. Mason stood stooped and trembling by the bed.
000
The telephone rang at the village hospital and Clarkson received a message he was needed at the Abbey, but not urgently.
He put on his coat and hat, picked up his bag, went down corridor and saw Lady Mary tending to Matthew. He sighed as he looked at the sad scene and then cleared his throat so Mary would look at him. The doctor crooked a finger and she followed him into the hall.
Matthew watched her go and return after a brief absence. She returned and slumped down by him. "What's that about?"
Mary cocked her head and swiped at her cheek. "Matthew… Dr. Clarkson's just…"
"Yes?"
"He's going up to the house," she said sadly.
Matthew looked at her full on. "Oh." He took a huge lungful of air and let it out slowly. "Is it?"
Mary reached and held his left hand tenderly. "Matthew… we knew…" she cleared her throat and looked away. "We knew how hurt he was… He just…" she stopped not being able to speak.
He squeezed her hand. "It's all right. Funny it's me comforting you when that's all you've been doing day and night for days."
She screwed her face up in anguish then dropped her face onto his shoulder. "Oh, Matthew, I am sorry," she whispered and he felt the patter of hot tears on his skin. "He's gone. He's just gone away."
"Oh," he said and the memory of the blast replayed in his head.
The shell dropped in on them, screaming in a rising pitch which became a rumble, then a concussive roar. Then William Mason screamed out, "Sir!" and with an outstretched arm threw his body backwards into Matthew. The roar became a giant blast and strangely, the way he recalled the whole thing, it became a flash of light, lighting up William in a halo, before they were both thrown backwards. Sight failed first and then sound and then came blackness. It didn't seem fair, not at all, Matthew realized.
Matthew clutched at Mary's back with his other arm and felt tears stream down his cheeks. "No. No! No!" he whispered, the words being torn from his throat.
Mary rubbed his shoulder. "He was…" Her head dropped and her forehead fell to touch his as he writhed in misery.
Matthew swallowed snot and tears and gasped out, "A good man. A very good man!" His right hand dropped to the bed and started to beat on his thigh, but there, he felt nothing.