Charles and Elsie spent their first few days in Hull getting the lay of the land and exploring their options. Fredrick and Emily and the girls were truly glad to have them as guests. The girls were on winter holiday from school and were very eager tour guides. After one full day, Elsie was confident she could locate every candy store, dress store and toy store in the city center. Emily apologized to Elsie, "They are still trying to drop hints about what they want from Santa. But since we are all still pretending he exists, I can't tell them that Santa had his shopping done weeks ago."
"It's no matter." Elsie assured her. "Learning a city from a young girl's perspective is as good a place to start as any."
Charles insisted on going into the office with Fredrick on Wednesday. He did not think he could take another 'tour' of the city that happened to highlight pink frocks and a certain pair of shoes. Charles was eager to assess exactly how much he could contribute to the company.
Fredrick sat him down at a desk near a window with the ledgers from their past four years of wine importing. Fredrick reminded him that it was a relatively small part of the operation, but it had a huge potential for growth, if handled properly.
Within two hours, Charles had already spotted a major flaw in their current wine ordering system. Whoever had been in charge of this branch previously obviously did not understand how the seasons affected wine production or consumption. He had a recommended solution written up for Fredrick before lunch. If they followed his advice, they would save a considerable amount of money of shipping costs and storage fees.
Charles felt good. He was now confident that he could legitimately earn his keep here and help grow the family business. He had little doubt that Elsie would be equally successful here in Hull. The only cloud in his sky today was knowing Elsie was not just a bell's ring away. It was not as though they spent every moment of the day together at Downton, quite the reverse; sometimes meals were the only times he saw her. Still, it felt odd to know she was over a mile away. He reminded himself he would see her soon and she would tell him all about her day. Charles turned back to his desk and began organizing the contacts Fredrick had given him.
Elsie and Emily met Suzanne for lunch on Wednesday to discuss their ability to actually stage a New Year's party. A two week turn around was tight, but Elsie thought it could be done. "As you've already identified, our main problem is recruiting and training the staff. But you've already started that, haven't you?"
"We're all over it." Suzanne agreed. "I've a good group of lads and lasses all ready to be trained."
"Over Christmas?" Elsie wondered.
Suzanne laughed at the suggestion. "Obviously not. We'll have to start day after Boxing Day."
Elsie looked worried now. Four days was very different than two weeks. "But Mrs. Rask can handle the volume of food?"
"With a few extra hands in the kitchen the day before, she'll be fine." Emily confirmed.
"Well, that's a blessing, anyhow. We should discuss the menu with her as soon as she has the time. Also, we need to set our overall budget and determine how much we are proposing to pay people." The other two women had not thought of this. They really did need Elsie's thorough experience.
"I don't think we should pay anyone for the training session unless we use them on the event. There are plenty of people who will show up to be trained and then disappear when there is real work to be done." She was taking notes quickly in her fresh new notebook. Charles had given it to her that morning as they both dressed.
"An early Christmas gift for my enterprising wife..." He'd kissed her neck as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and presented her with the neatly lined, hardback notebook. "You had better succeed at this because I'd like to retire soon. And I intend to retire in style."
The memory of his joke made her smile, as did the inscription he'd put on the inside cover, "'If you have it, Love, you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have.' J. M. Barrie"
Elsie hoped that Charles' day was going as well as hers. She couldn't wait to talk to him and reassure him that they were going to do well here in Hull.
CE—
Wednesday evening, Fredrick took Charles and Elsie to see the rooms at the warehouse. They had been built several years ago by an eccentric gentleman who did not trust his employees. He wanted to always keep an eye on his merchandise and had these rooms added into an existing warehouse. The rooms were spacious and covered almost half area of the warehouse. The workmanship was top notch, from the thick oak flooring to the large beams that ran along the ceiling. Windows had been added along the south wall to allow the natural light. Through and above the neighboring warehouses, there was actually a rather nice view of the river from the windows.
The flat was fully prepared for Charles and Elsie to move in immediately. They might want to add a chair or two, but the rooms were almost completely furnished with solid and serviceable items. Emily had sent over spare dishes and linens. A full kitchen and bathroom had been plumbed in as well. There was a small gas stove and a gas water heater in the kitchen.
Two stories worth of inside stairs climbed from a street door to their front door, which had the look of any other front door in the upscale parts of Hull. There was a white façade with pillars and a bright red door with brass numbering. Their door was located on a landing that overlooked the warehouse floor. From this landing, a small, metal, spiral staircase climbed up to the roof, which could be accessed through a small hatch.
"Is the roof ours as well?" Elsie asked as they were walking out of the flat.
Fredrick was surprised at the question. "It is not exclusively yours, but I don't think anyone really uses it."
"Can we look?" She asked. Charles was also surprised at her inquiry, but he was curious himself and nodded to Fredrick that he would very much like to look as well.
"Fine. Follow me." He led the way up the winding staircase. Charles waited until both Elsie and Fredrick were off the staircase before starting up. It looked solidly built, but there was no reason to take chances.
As he emerged onto the roof, he was hit with a cold blast of air. It was the freshest air he'd experienced in days. They were above the street smell of garbage and car exhaust and stale sweat. Up here, all you could smell was the river. While fishy, muddy salt flats might not smell pleasant to everyone, the freshness of the scent made it a welcome one to both Elsie and Charles who were not yet used to the smells of the city.
Just this one story higher, they could see over all the city and in every direction. Charles stood next to Elsie, looking west. The sun was just setting and it was breathtaking. Fingers of red sky reached out to them from the western horizon. Charles did think for one painful moment, West, where Downton lies.
Elsie must have read his mind, for she squeezed his hand reassuringly. He smiled at her to prove that he was fine, just a sentimental fool.
"What do you think, love? Shall we take it?" He asked, appraisingly.
"Well, the price is right." She sounded skeptical. Fredrick looked worried until she laughed and added, "And it's absolutely perfect. Thank you, Fredrick."
Relieved, Fredrick smiled. "You can move in tomorrow. Emily and the girls were hoping you'd stay with us until Christmas, but I'm sure you are eager to start setting up your own house."
"We are." Charles confirmed. "I hope they won't be too disappointed."
"They'll survive. But don't think you'll be able to escape the tree decorating or Christmas dinner. Emily may even insist that you stay Christmas Eve, but don't tell her I warned you."
As they headed back down the spiral stairs, Elsie called back to him. "I think we can handle that."
CE—
Robert stared out the train window at the frozen landscape. He hoped he was making the right decision. As anxious as he was to rectify things with Mr. and Mrs. Carson, he did not want to disrupt the family's Christmas plans. He did not want to risk ruining the Carsons' holidays either.
But he was determined that he would not talk himself out of doing the right thing. He had written himself a rather scathing letter reminding him of all the things he'd done, not just to the Carsons over the past month, but to anyone and as far back as he could remember. It had been quite a list. It had taken him the past two days to complete it. He kept the letter in his breast pocket to remind him that every accusation they'd leveled at him had been true.
Ironically, after putting all his worst points down on paper, when he remembered his conversations with Carson he could focus on the positive things that had been said. The thing that resonated most was how much his family needed him. It felt good to know he was needed. It gave him a sense of worth again. He was still important to this family. He was the head of this family. It was time he started to act like it.
When he looked up and saw Mary at the compartment door with George asleep in her arms, he was glad. She thought she had finally cornered him, but he would not have run, even if he could have. He opened the door for her and she entered the compartment.
"I hate to use my son in this shameful way," Mary spoke in a low, calm voice, "but I fear it is the only way I can guarantee neither of us will raise our voice." She stood before her father now, holding George. She held the sleeping child out to him. Robert took him, reluctantly. What if he held him wrong? What if the child produced one of those liquids that only children are capable of? He was asleep and safe at present, but Robert was still not entirely comfortable.
Mary smiled at the panic in his eyes. She had no need to yell at him, she had the upper hand. She sat down opposite her father and took a deep breath.
"I have come to negotiate a truce."
"If this is about Carson…"
"It is not." She cut him off curtly. "This is about us."
That surprised Robert no end. Every word she had spoken to him for almost a month was about the 'Carson Predicament' as he had come to think of it.
"I will not pretend that I am happy with how things stand between you and Mr. Carson, but you are both grown men and capable of recognizing the absurdity of this quarrel. Whether the two of you ever do so at the same time remains to be seen. But I am officially removing myself from that matter."
Robert was watching George dream, a small smile on his tiny face with an occasional twitch as though he were trying to speak. He kept his voice low so as to avoid disturbing the dream. "Then what is this truce you wish to discuss?"
"I miss my father." She said simply. "As stubborn and wrongheaded as he may sometimes be, I miss him terribly." Robert looked up at this frank admission. "And I need him."
"And he needs you, my dearest girl."
At his words, she was confused. "Then why have you been avoiding me?"
"Because I've only just reached this conclusion. I have not been thinking very clearly lately. Not since…" He was hesitant to mention Matthew. If Carson was right…
"…Since Matthew." She finished for him. She looked pained but continued on. "I think I can talk about him with you now. I was not ready before. It hurt me to think you might have wished I were dead instead, now that I'd given you an heir." Robert could only shake his head 'no'.
"I know it wasn't rational for me to think that, but I could not make the thought go away. Not when every other word from your mouth seemed to be 'Matthew'."
"I am sorry that I didn't understand that sooner. You were jealous of Matthew and I was jealous of Carson. He tried to tell me, but it all just hurt too much."
"Carson has helped this family through so much. Of course I would turn to him. I do love Carson, but I only have one father."
"But the fact that you needed Carson at all made me feel like I failed you as a father. My own father was gone so often and even when he was around, he left my rearing to the nannies, governesses and Carson. After I turned twelve, I sometimes felt that Carson was all I had. Did you know he taught me to shave?"
Mary shook her head. Her father had never spoken to her about his childhood.
The hand that was not holding George touched his cheek as Robert remembered. "He found me with a straight razor one morning. I'd stolen it from my father's room; an old, dull razor my father never used. I'd already cut myself several times by the time Carson found me. Once I convinced him I was not trying to kill myself, he agreed to show me how it was done properly. That very afternoon, there were two nearly identical shaving stations set up in my room; a bowl, a mug and brush, a mirror and a razor. But one razor had a mother of pearl handle; the other was made of dinted tin.
"He showed me how to hone the blade and test it. He taught me the secret of a good lather and how to shave with the grain to avoid irritating the skin. He even let me use his aftershave.
"I came down to dinner that night so proud of my clean chin. Rosamund was the only one who noticed, but she didn't say anything."
Mary gave her father a knowing look. "You weren't just jealous of Carson, Papa. You were jealous of me."
This thought had not occurred to Robert. He had been gratified and relieved when Carson had decided against leaving Downton for Haxby. But he wondered if he had ever really forgiven Carson for choosing Mary over him in the first place.
"Well, he didn't teach me to shave. But he is still the best reader of children's stories I've ever heard." Mary moved over to sit beside her father now. She took George from him and held him in her lap. Robert could now put his arms around them both. "I am sorry Grandfather was not there for you, but Carson didn't fill a void in my upbringing; he was another source of support. I am afraid you both quite spoiled me."
"But he helped you when I couldn't. You could turn to him when you couldn't come to me. When I was in Africa…"
"You were doing your duty. And you were still present in our lives. Both Mama and Carson talked about you every day. We heard your name more often when you were gone than before you had left. I understood about duty, even then. I knew that you weren't just my father; you were the Earl of Grantham. Sometimes I just couldn't talk to him because…"
"Because you weren't a son. I am sorry that I never understood how I made you feel. I wish you could be Earl of Grantham, my dear. I am sure no one could ever be a better Earl than my daughter."
"You can keep the title, all I ever wanted was Downton. Besides, I don't think I should much like wearing all those suits."
They chuckled and Robert held his daughter; rocking gently with the motion of the rails as the train rolled on towards London.
CE—
"I'll carry you over both thresholds, but you are on your own for the stairs, dear wife." Charles informed her as he unlocked the street level door.
They had left Fredrick and Emily's very early; before breakfast. Neither had much of an appetite due to the excitement of having their own rooms and officially beginning their life in Hull. Charles would need to be at the office shortly, and Elsie had a list of things she needed to do in preparation of the New Year's party, but they had at least an hour to enjoy their new home.
Carson set their suitcase inside the door and came back for his wife. Trucks and workers were already going about their business, but no one spared a second look for the couple as Charles kissed her and swept her over the threshold. They practically raced up the stairs. Elsie won easily, as Charles was carrying the suitcase. By the time he reached the landing, she had unlocked the door and was waiting patiently.
The warehouse was not active yet. The huge building was all theirs. It reminded them both of the stillness of Downton early in the morning or late at night, when they knew they were the only souls awake in the great house.
Charles walked through the door and set the case down. Elsie looked after him and continued to wait, though less patiently. He looked around and gave a satisfactory nod before turning back to her. "It's only missing one thing."
"A wife, perhaps?" She suggested.
"That's it! But where am I to find one at this time of morning?" Her crossed arms and stern look told him she was done playing.
"Very well, love." He picked her up easily. His strength always astonished her. She placed her arms around his neck as he carried her into their flat. "Welcome home, Mrs. Carson." He did not set her down after they kissed, but instead looked around. "Now, where was that bedroom?"
Her fingers were buried deep in his hair. "Straight back and to the right, Mr. Carson." And that is exactly where he carried her.
A/N- It was completely by accident, but if the letter in Robert's pocket spawns a "My Name Is Earl" spoof, that would be okay by me. But I guess it should be "My Title is Earl".