Conversations with the Man Upstairs. Ch 2- Tea and Sympathy
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From Ch 1:
"So tell me what got you all so hot and bothered tonight, then, hmm?" and she silently prays that her friend is not ill again "…and its Beryl tonight, Elsie," she says softly. Elsie hiccoughs in a sharp breath and her eyes instantly well up when she fully fathoms the blessing of having a female friend close enough to her own age to share in all of her woes—even the ones she cannot quite name yet. In fact, the power of speech seems to have left Elsie completely for the moment. Beryl sees it in a trice."I'll tell you what, let me just write a quick note to leave on the young Jill's door to not wake Daisy early today. I am up now, so I may as well stay up and set the kitchen fires m'self today, and get the breakfast started. I'd best leave a note on Daisy's bedside table too so she can have a small lie-in and not fret. She and Ivy can handle the dinner tonight and I will catch my rest with an early finish after church and Sunday luncheon." Beryl looks closely at Elsie and can see that whatever sleep she had managed since they both retired at eleven o'clock last night was as fitful as her own had been. "I think you can afford to do the same, Mrs Hughes. The family have no grand plans this Sunday evening, as y' well know. So you and I can go down now to sneak a cuppa and a late night snack now before they all come running at us again at daybreak. What do y'say?"
A tear finally breaks through its fragile wall and trickles down Elsie's cheek. She just nods in acquiescence and unspeakable gratitude. What on earth is wrong with ye Elsie Mae Hughes, ye daft apeth!
"Let me just change into m'day dress and I will see you down in your sitting room, Elsie." Beryl informs her, recognising that her friend will want some time to compose herself a little for whatever it is she needs to talk about.
"Thank you, Beryl," she finally manages to whisper out thickly as she takes her Chatelaine from her dresser and quietly locks her room behind her and sees to the one at the entrance to the women's corridor.
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Ch 2- Tea and Sympathy
Date: The Wee Hours, Sunday 29th November 1925
Elsie inhales the refreshing sweet whisp of rising sulphur dust as the match flares and the paper in her sitting room fire grate steams the early morning chill away in an instant and then catches to a slowly warming glow– flicking sounds like a tiny elf's fingers snapping at a happy job well done between his invisible friends. Fire elves now is it, Elsie?—ye silly gloik. Up too early even for the Jill or the hall boys to be setting the fires…Huugh… The cold slates of the Abbey's vaulted servant's halls feel hard beneath her aching arches in this silent lifeless hour. Jill will be up soon enough though, poor lass…Mrs Hughes mind starts listing through the routines of the coming day. Even in these more restrained days, some poor soul in the Abbey needs to be up before the first cock-crow to see to all of the necessary fireplaces. Elsie cannot even remember the days when that duty last fell to her. I've been blessed here all of these years, haven't I Lord? She checks in with the man upstairs as she gazes wistfully into the crackling kindling and feels some of the chill inside her shifting through her slowly aging bones.
"Hauugh" she sighs again, perplexed and still. She stares—all a quandary.
"That sounds like a weight of the world in need of shifting" Beryl quietly announces her arrival at the sitting room table as she places the tea tray down and carefully checks that Mrs Hughes has managed to put herself back together enough for a proper chat.
"Perhaps" is Elsie's near silent and pensive reply. Beryl's brow crinkles slightly at the listlessness now evident in her friend's tone. Practicalities appear to be needed.
"Would you like the leftover treacle tart or some Shrewsbury Cakes?" she prompts.
"The Shrewsburies, I think. Nothing too sweet for me tonight. Thank you, Mrs Patmore." Elsie moves to pour the tea while the midnight treats are being doled out by the now freshly put together cook.
Beryl finds it is strange to be more formally dressed than the housekeeper. Mrs Hughes currently looks waiflike and swamped by the size of her housecoat, which if Beryl were the type to judge, is bordering on the tatty side of things. Perhaps we ought to spend a day in Ripon…for necessities…It strikes Beryl oddly, as they have never arranged for their errand days to occur in unison before. No harm in starting now though, I suppose. But let's not get ahead of ourselves…
"Right you are…And it's Beryl tonight. Remember?"
"Aye. I do…Thank you."
"Come on now, stop your fussing and sit yourself down. It's not called the Housekeeper's sitting room for nought."
"Noh…true enough…It is…where I sit." Is Elsie's cryptic and somewhat forlorn reply.
"And that's a good thing to have…isn't it?... Elsie?" Beryl tries to break through the vacant stare that Elsie has now trained upon the swirling steam rising from her teacup.
"Aye…that it is…Hmmm…" Elsie tries to gather a thread of clear thought as she sighs at the simple pleasure of sipping at a decent cup of tea served under a solid roof where she can rest her weary head at the end of every long day. "It is indeed a blessing, Mrs Patmore…Beryl…" She corrects and pauses to sip again at her tea. Beryl waits with uncommon patience for Elsie to say what is on her mind. "How…How are things coming along with your guest house, then?"
Beryl is momentarily taken aback. This is not at all the tack that she was expecting this conversation would take. She wonders briefly if Elsie may be purposely obfuscating. But then Elsie lifts her eyes after placing her teacup precisely in the cradle of its saucer and she holds Beryl's gaze quite intently. So…this is what she's angling at. In all truth, Beryl has been itching to know more about Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes' property hunting expeditions these last long weeks of Autumn, but the two have been even more reticent than usual about divulging any details of their lives. Not known for being overly circuitous in her conversational skills, Beryl does decide to tread a little lightly tonight and sets to fill in the details of her really quite exciting little venture into running her very own business…and a retirement scheme of sorts.
"Well, it's coming along quite nicely. Thank you for asking…I suppose I am in no real rush to have it turning over a profit just yet. I bought it outright and I can afford to wait a little to see it all fixed up exactly as I want it. Work is secure here…for the moment it seems, what with the family still entertaining quite a bit…still trying to marry off the young ladies I s'pose…So, I'll keep putting a little aside each month and paying for works on the house as I can…the kitchen is almost as I would like it…and next I will be deciding on what to do about the outdoor privy… I think paying guests would want an indoor one…It will likely be a selling point for people staying in the area…"
"I do think that is wise"
"And well…I suppose I am holding off a little bit too…for I want for it to be a security, as you know…but not just for my future…You see, my Katie's Lucy, my niece that is…I want for her to be the overseer and cook—give her an opportunity to work for a boss who will treat her right, and all…She's a good lass, Lucy."
"That's such a lovely thing to do, Beryl."
"Yes, well, you see, she's been a-courting this young lad from Haughton Le Skerne…and that were part of my thinking in taking the property in the first place, actually…for it is further from here than is truly convenient for me…but, you see, the two met a little while back…Well…you remember when they all came to visit Archie's memorial?" Elsie just nods attentively enjoying her friend's enthusiasm. "And we all went to a dance in Thirsk one night while they were here…and our Lucy met this young Geoffrey fellow,…and it all looked quite serious from the very outset, I don't mind telling you. Well…he appears to be quite honourable and true—kept up with writing to Lucy regularly and visiting her at Katie and Arthur's in Preston whenever he could—like a proper suitor. He's a carpenter by trade, and I've even had him finish a couple of small jobs on the house—freshening the windows frames and architraves and the like. He made a lovely kitchen cabinet for me too. Didn't charge me full price for it, neither. I'll be getting him onto a good sized chopping block next."
"He sounds like a good lad."
"Oh, he is that all right…in fact, Katie has only just written this week to say that he has asked Arthur's permission to marry our Lucy!"
"Oh how lovely! And so you are sure she'll accept?"
"I see no reason why she wouldn't. She is not a bit so picky and fickle as our Daisy here!"
"I don't think that could be at all possible, Beryl!"
"No!" Beryl scoffs in agreement. "And so there you have it, now I feel surer than ever that Lucy can handle the running of the guest house…and especially the breakfasts… I want to become known for our breakfasts y'see…but more importantly, at least if she marries Geoffrey, she will be safe."
"A permanent chaperone."
"Exactly— for I can't say I haven't worried about the thought of her venturing into something like this all alone—running a place without her family near— and still so young too. If they are to marry, you see, they can stay on at his parents' place and Lucy can just come in daily, or they take one of the rooms at the Bed and Breakfast…at least until such time as they have any babies."
"That all makes good sense."
"Well, I hope so…you see…I thought it would be nice-like…to have some family established somewhere in the area for when I retire…It's true I could have always gone to Katie and Arthur's, I suppose…but this way—now we all have some options…I am closer to Lucy for when she gets started out…and if anything were ever to happen to Arthur… well, then Katie could come to Haughton Le Skerne to be with Lucy and Geoffery and then we could all be together…in time."
"That's important…It sounds like you have it all planned out…"
"Well…nothing in life is certain…but it does all offer a different way to look at things…I can't suppose on having His Lordship offering up a full cottage and a pension by the time I am looking down that particular barrel."
"You know that he and Lady Grantham will give you that if they possibly can."
"Do you really think so?...I mean…it's not so as you or I are allowed to hire any new staff for those that we lose anymore…we don't know if the estate can keep supporting the likes of us in the way we all figured on it happening back when we were starting out."
"No…I well know that…You have done a wise thing, using your Aunt's money to sort things for your future. You've been smarter than me…and a lot earlier in the piece, to boot. I am sure it will all turn to rights for you, Beryl. I really am very happy for you," Elsie finishes quietly.
"Thank you…And then...what of your plans, Elsie?" Beryl tentatively nudges, her own news now all but spent and her curiosity for the Hughes-Carson Syndicate's Property Venture really is as fervent as ever.
"Well…like you…I have always had the offer to join Becky and her David over in Lytham's when the time comes… I do always miss them so terribly…especially Moira at the moment…I wish she could find herself a good man…but that is none too easy at her age…not many a man of her vintage came out of the war either alive or unscathed…or unmarried for that matter…and, I should like to see more of young Rebekah and Lilispeth too…they're such lovely little girls…And I would be on hand to help in the shop front if ever I was needed…I could be useful…earn my keep…"
"But would you be happy?"
Elsie starts a little at the turn of phrase and tries to place the reason why.
"Well why wouldn't I be?" she utters on a sharper breath than she intended. Beryl hedges a little, not wanting to push too hard and see Elsie clam up on her completely, as Beryl knows that she is wont to do about her private life.
"Well…I suppose I mean it a bit like it is for me…really. I can't say I don't dwell on what it might be like to leave all of Downton behind me for good…now that I have the option…and especially since Daisy briefly floated her scheme to leave for London forever…That hit me harder than I was ever expecting, I'll not lie to you. It was bad enough to think on how much I'd miss even one person from here…let alone the whole ruddy lot of you…" Beryl focuses on her rough-chapped hands resting in her lap. "It…it's been my home, Elsie…and for a good long while…" she trails off and lifts the bottom corner of her pinafore to dab a little at the corners of her eyes.
Elsie's head turns aside as she blinks in glaze-eyed sympathy.
"Quite…" she whispers softly.
"Huugh…look at me will y'! Mooning about like a heifer in the corner of the paddock that the bull overlooked!"
Beryl! Honestly! Elsie articulates with her eyes alone—and a small huph of breath as she shakes her head at her friend's particularly blunt way with words. Beryl takes the hint.
"…Anyway, Elsie, what of the house hunting with Mr Carson? Are you close to finding something that will serve for your retirement plans as well?"
"Hmm?...Oh…yes…" a distracted Elsie finally turns back to the topic at hand. "Quite well…I suppose..."
"You don't sound very certain…Is there nothing the likes of my little property hereabouts that you could start on managing together?"
"As a matter of fact…I think there is…It's a little place we saw right in the village today…yesterday…in the afternoon," Elsie details unnecessarily.
Beryl well knows that the recent regular Saturday picnic lunches she has been packing at Mr Carson behest have been for the express purpose of the two heads of staff being able to spend some free hours perusing various investment properties. And in truth, she hasn't but wondered if the old romantic galoot was playing at courting Mrs Hughes a little in the process. And not before time—to Beryl's mind, what with the way Mr Carson has been mooning about all bereft whenever the two have been at each other's throats over any nonsense or another ever since that day they had waded hand in hand together—out to sea. Seriously! And I thought only Daisy moved slower than a sloth underwater! If he were any more obtuse, the man will be gaz'n at the back of his own head!
But Beryl merely asks, "You mean the Brounker Road one?"
"How did you know?" Elsie's eyes sharpen in on any possible trace of gossip she'll not want spread about her private plans and days out with Mr Carson. The loveliest days that I've ever had, Elsie realises in a flash.
"Well, since I started looking for properties m'self I suppose I've found it enjoyable to keep an eye out and read about the various places on offer hereabouts— think about how I would do things if it were mine." Elsie just stares at her friend, a little taken aback at the way she talks and thinks about her interests and new lot in life now. "That one on Brounker looks a tidy place, nicely set on the edge of the village but not too far from Downton High Street and the Arms…If it were up for sale when I were ready to buy I'd have put in an offer for it m'self…although, truth to tell, it is a little out of my reach…and I'd not have liked to ask the bank for a loan…No—Haughton Le Skerne were the right choice for me…But if I were you and Mr Carson, I'd put an offer on that place quick smart. It has more rooms than my little one…it would do well to set you both up for retirement as a guest house—quite lucrative even…if your funds will stretch to it. Have you showed your interest yet?"
Elsie shakes her head a little in disbelief at her friend becoming such a savvy property owner so very quickly.
"Phewff…well I never…" Beryl just cocks a querying eyebrow to further elicit an answer from a particularly reticent Mrs Hughes. "Well…Mr Carson is certainly very interested. I'd not be surprised if he wants to make an offer on it."
"Well…I would wager the man has barely spent a day of his life not thinking about Downton…I've always thought he'd be much preferring a place close by." She watches Elsie pondering this fact. "…But…you're not… interested?"
"Well… I'm not uninterested…it has all of those benefits you mentioned. It does need some work, as yours has- mainly the kitchen and washroom…I…i-it…it's just…that…"
"Hmm?"
"I mean…How would we manage it, Beryl…if it were just the two of us running the place in retirement?"
"Well, I don't see how that could be a problem…" Beryl rolls her eyes heavenward to indicate the fullness of the space they are in "The pair of you have run this behemoth like a well-oiled clock for more years than I can count. A small guest house would be an absolute doddle."
"I knowh that" Elsie's brogue hits hard with frustration on the drawn-out vowels. "But we do all of this," she gestures with a sweep of her hand, "with a myriad of staff running about between us…w-what if…how…how would it be…if it was just the two of us…stuck together all day running a tiny guesthouse." Beryl just looks thoroughly confused and cannot fathom where on earth the issue in Elsie's heart lies. "Well…it's just that …w-where would we go to get…out of each other's hair as we can here…I mean…we've barely stopped butting heads long enough recently to arrange some half days off together to even look at prospective properties."
"But you did manage it, Elsie…as the two of you always do…in the end."
"Maybe…but…"
"I thought this was a sensible move for you both…I thought you wanted this, Elsie."
"Yes…I do…" Elsie finally looks up at her friend with glassy eyes and rasps out. "But I-I'm just not sure anymore…th-that it…it is…all I want."
"What? You want more rooms?" Elsie makes a nearly inaudible squeaking sound deep in her throat and looks at her friend with imploring eyes now that she has finally happened upon the crux of what got her all so hot and bothered across this wholy deplorable and disrupted evening—so much so that it woke her up at this most ungodly hour of the morning.
"Oh…oh I see…" The penny finally drops for Beryl. "So…Brounker Road…has enough rooms to house you both comfortably and still turn a profit with at least some guest rooms?" Elsie just nods forlornly. "…and…Mr Carson has not made any other…possible…arrangements…clear to you?"
"Noh" Elsie whispers out past the heavy lump in her throat.
"Ruddy old fool! I oughta smack him upside the head with an omelette pan!" Beryl mutters beneath her breath.
"Don't you dare!" Elsie gasps out in instant defence.
"Huuugh…as if I ever would…couldn't reach for starters...Although, I'm not lying when I say that used to think such a thing would be well beneath the man's dignity—and that now I am not so sure." She shakes her head incredulously as she eyes her friend closely. Elsie holds a quivering sad little smile about her lips and obliviously dabs at her eyes with a pristine handkerchief that clearly sports Mr Carson's embroidered initials. "Well, …it seems you have quite a few decisions to be making together…and likely quicker than either of you are used to doing so…at least when it comes to your…personal…affairs…" Beryl knows that her next words might seem like a brushing off of the confused burden her dearest friend has finally managed to share with her tonight, in the hopes of receiving some clear advice, but Beryl really cannot see what else she can possibly do to help in this situation. "…Elsie-dear…" She reaches across the detritus of their shared tea to clasp her hand atop one of Elsie's as it wrings at the kerchief in her hand—offering what sympathy she can as she gestures her eyes up to the highest vaulted rafters of the old Abbey, "Deary…you know…this really is a conversation to be had between you and the man upstairs."
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