A/N Hello friends, I actually started this story around this time last year but then Christmas rather fell apart on me and it was never finished
I was never really satisfied with it so I decided to completely rewrite it.
I should also like to thank everyone who has sent PMs over the past few months. For some reason FF hasn't been notifying me about them and I've only just picked them up. My profuse apologies if you thought that I was ignoring you.

And that was the news at midnight. We now hand you over to our colleagues at the BBC World Service. Good Morning London will be back on the air at 6 am tomorrow morning. From all of us at BBC Radio London, we bid you goodnight."

Edith Crawley brought down the fader on her microphone, took off her headphones, yawned and stretched.

"Thanks, Edith. Great job tonight", said Bob, the late-night producer.

"Thanks, Bob. That was really fun," replied Edith.

"Are you heading home for Christmas now?"

"Oh yes, back to the family. I'm back on air on January 2nd."

"Well, you have a nice break and I'll see you then."

"Thanks, Bob, you too. Goodnight"

Edith gathered her things and waiting in the reception area of the radio station for her taxi home.

At 26, she was BBC Radio London's newest cub reporter and rising star, if listener feedback was anything to go by.

With a Master's Degree in Broadcast Journalism under her belt, Edith had started working for BBC Radio London in the summer and loved every minute of it.

Edith sighed as she thought of the next few interminable days back at Downton. Her family had never really understood her and most definitely did not understand her career choice. Indeed, she thought her father was going to have a stroke when she told him she had accepted a place on a Journalism course, rather than the law, like everyone else since time immemorial in the Crawley family.

She tried not to think about her 'superstar' Barrister sister, Mary, who not only had the high-flying career, but the equally high-flying barrister husband to complete the set.

Edith had never had much success with men, which her family considered another 'black mark' against her. Their thinking being that if you weren't married by 25 at the latest, then you were bound for a life of increasingly eccentric spinsterdom. It was excruciating.

The arrival of her taxi interrupted her dark thoughts and took her swiftly from the radio station, back to her little flat in Brixton.

XXX

"And that was the news at midnight. We now hand you over to our colleagues at the BBC World Service. Good Morning London will be back on the air at 6 am tomorrow morning. From all of us at BBC Radio London, we bid you goodnight."

Anthony Strallan turned off the small radio that he kept on his bedside table. He liked Edith Crawley's delivery of the news and the investigative pieces that he had heard her present were top-notch. She had the increasingly rare ability just to present the information, without trying to insert herself into the narrative or present any particular bias. It was refreshing, he thought.

Sighing to himself, he turned out the light and snuggled down. Anthony slept in the middle of his bed, had done since the death of his wife five years ago. He thought that at 48 and not being terribly successful with women other than his wife, there was no way anyone would ever sleep beside him again.

As per usual, when Anthony lay down to sleep, his mind sped up. He remembered what day it now was, Christmas Eve. This was the one time of year that his charismatic younger sister, Charlotte, insisted on a 'family get together', back at their ancestral home, Locksley, in Yorkshire. Anthony had had the house and the Baronetcy for almost 20 years now but lived full time in London, running a small architecture practice from his Townhouse in Belgravia.

Charlotte and her diplomat husband divided their time between Edward's current posting and their house in London. Anthony found it hard to keep up.

Even though neither of them lived there, Locksley had a team of estate workers and an extremely competent Estate Manager, to keep her running smoothly.

The team at Locksley were aware of the family's arrival on Christmas Eve and everything was prepared. Anthony would drive to Locksley on Christmas Eve and be back in London by early Boxing Day morning. Simple.

Anthony closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.