Surprise! After taking a whole year to write a second chapter, it only took me a month for this one.
May 1923
"Moo … moo" little Sybil Branson crooned into the window of the rail car as the train passed a field with several cows. She tapped her little hand against the window as she turned her face towards her father. "Daddy baby cow!" she squealed with delight.
"Aye luv" Tom smiled as he was reminded how the simplest things delighted his daughter. It was a whole different world he thought seeing it through the eyes of a toddler. Often it made him pause in his daily life and take the time to admire a butterfly hovering over a flowering plant or see the delight in creating splashes in a rain puddle or laugh at the creaks the floorboard could make as one jumped on it just so. His daughter surprised and enchanted him daily and made the mundane of his life a bit brighter.
Something that delighted him today was seeing that the weather had certainly improved the closer the train got to Downton. He had awoken that morning to the sound of raindrops beating against his bedroom window. Listening to the steady plop plop of the rain he had closed his eyes wondering if he should make the journey to Downton. Yet as the moments passed by he knew he had to go for it was a date to celebrate, it was their anniversary and where else should he be? The sorrow and grief that had once been so all-encompassing had subsided into smaller and smaller waves of sadness. His heart still ached but instead of a torrent of tears he'd will himself to think of those happy times they had had and none had been happier than that day they had become husband and wife.
Opening his eyes his faced turned towards the battered second-hand bedside table and the framed photograph of Sybil. Even in the faint light that filtered through the thin curtains Sybil looked radiant in her wedding gown. Sitting up, he reached for the frame, smiling he ran his fingers lightly over the side of the photograph until stopping them briefly on Sybil's smile, a smile that lit up the world and never more so than that day he thought. Despite it being a black and white photograph when he looked at it he saw her sparkling blue eyes, her dark glossy hair, and her dark violet dangling earrings which matched the purple flowers of her bouquet. Those earrings and her plain gold wedding ring were safely wrapped in a box waiting for Sybbie's eighteenth birthday. They were the only jewels of Sybil's he had taken when he left Downton. The only jewels of Sybil's he had until last year when Mary had given him all of Sybil's things that he had left behind when he and Sybbie had fled Downton for Liverpool.
It had rained at Downton as evidenced by the small puddles here and there that Tom, carrying Sybbie, dodged as he hurried through the small village towards the graveyard. Only a few puffy white clouds dotted the otherwise clear blue sky and the morning sun gave promise of a warm spring day. He took a few minutes inside the church to light a candle and say a prayer, something that was a manner of his heritage and even though this church wasn't a Catholic one he thought that in such matters as this the actual label of the religion didn't matter. It also gave him time to sit and compose himself, preparing himself for the sight of her grave.
He had only taken a few steps on the stone walk when he paused. He hated the stone slab that was her tomb, it seemed too cold, too ostentatious. It wasn't what he would have chosen but then he hadn't been consulted, hadn't made any of the decisions regarding her funeral. Just like he hadn't been consulted on her health until it was too late and she was already consigned to the path her father and that fancy quack had chosen.
Mary, just entering the village square, was surprised at the sense of relief that swept over her as she spotted Tom opening the wooden gate to the churchyard. Until that moment she saw him she didn't acknowledge how much comfort he brought to her, how much wanted to talk with him. She didn't follow him into the church yard, he'd come all this way to visit Sybil's grave and she'd given him some time alone with her.
Standing on the narrow stone path Mary felt her eyes cloud over with unshed tears as she watched the loving scene between Tom and his daughter. Kneeling so that he was at Sybbie's level, the two of them were running their fingers over the carved lettering of Sybil's tomb and although from this distance she couldn't hear what they were saying it was obvious the two were having a conversation with Sybbie looking back and forth from the tomb to her father. What could they be talking about wondered Mary. What could a not quite three year old possibly understand about this situation?
Mary glanced beyond Tom to Matthew's grave with its gleaming granite headstone which stood out among the surrounding smaller weathered headstones. She still rarely came here for unlike Tom she found little comfort at his gravesite and she had never brought George here.
She glanced back again to see Sybbie reach out one of her tiny hands as if wiping away a tear from her father's cheek and then lean over and wrap both of her little arms around him, her head nestled in his chest. It took all of Mary's strength not to break out in tears witnessing this intimate scene. She stood rooted to this spot not uttering a sound as Tom stood up with Sybbie still clinging to him and watched as Tom kissed the top of his daughter's glossy dark hair. For a moment she was aware of how silent it was here, no sounds filtered in from the village just beyond the stone fence, no birds twittered from the huge oak tree which blanketed half of this section of the graveyard in cool shade.
She thought she should turn away, silently walk back down the stone path but Tom must have felt her presence for he turned towards her and she saw the smile that gradually covered his face as he recognized her.
"Hello Tom" she said as she approached him. "Hello Sybbie" she said standing in front of them but in response the little girl burrowed her face into her father's chest.
"Sybbie" Tom said quietly "this is your Aunt Mary. The nice lady that gave you the rocking horsey."
"Horsey" Sybbie lifted her head as her face lit up in a smile and she kicked her legs.
"If Sybbie enjoys it as much as her mother did-" Mary tilted her head. "I don't remember much of Sybil from that age but I can see her sitting on that horse rocking it so hard I'm surprised she didn't come flying off it."
Tom chuckled as Sybbie began squirming and he set her on the ground and she promptly began stomping one foot and loudly saying "gid up gid up" and would have taken off running if her father hadn't stopped her.
"Sybbie" Tom admonished her. "We don't run or yell here." He looked up at Mary "between the train ride and here it's been a rather quiet morning for her and I'm afraid all that pent up energy is-"
"Maybe we should move somewhere she can run and yell and I know just the place." Although she didn't voice it she also silently said to herself and where no one else will see you and Sybbie.
Tom looked at the small truck and then at Mary. "You" the astonishment clear in his voice "you can drive this?"
Mary, clearly reveling in Tom's amazement, proudly nodded her head. "Actually Matthew taught me to drive in this. He bought it to drive around the estate now I do the same."
Smiling and clearly pleased Tom chimed "first you become the Estate Manager now you're driving! It's certainly a new Lady Mary."
As the truck bounced along a rutted dirt track Mary could sense Tom carefully watching her but she was determined not to let him rattle her. They crested a small hill that opened onto a meadow brimming with patches of colorful wildflowers and Mary stopped the truck. "Will this spot do for a picnic?"
Tom took in his surroundings, noted the small pond in the distance, and the nearby woods. "It's a lovely place for a picnic and actually Sybil and I came here several times."
His words caused Mary to raise her brow in that way she had. "Why do I think there is so much about you and Sybil and that we don't know."
"Well when you have a friendship for years that you have to hide and keep secret well …" Tom shrugged his shoulders. But before he could add anything else an excited Sybbie stood up, her eyes wide open at the thought of running around the meadow. He no sooner set her on the ground than she took off chasing after a butterfly.
Mary watched her niece joyfully running and once was again reminded of Sybil who as a child found just such delight in chasing butterflies or bunny rabbits or Papa's dog while she and Edith would sit quietly reading books. Her thoughts on Sybil she turned and looked at Tom who was smiling as he watched his daughter run through the grass.
"After that night … when we came to get her at the Swann Inn … I spent the drive home thinking that Sybil could probably have any man she wanted. Heavens know she was much more successful in her season that either me or Edith. I asked Sybil how she could possibly know you so well that she'd want to spend her life with you." Mary averted her eyes from Tom and looked off the distance towards the dull blue of a small pond that peaked through trees.
"Would you have rather seen Sybil with someone like that arse Larry Grey?"
Mary, fearing she had insulted him, looked in panic at Tom but found his eyes twinkling and a smile on his lips.
After a moment or two Mary continued but her voice was softer. "I … I mean you drove us back and forth to the village and to Ripon how could she know you well? She gave me that sly smile and shook her head. Oh Mary she said he was never just the chauffeur to me, he was someone to talk with about those things that interested me, things you and the rest of our family doesn't care about … books and politics and life in general. Then she gave a shrug and maybe a little laugh and said we didn't just confine our talks to the motor car and we've been friends for a long time."
"Aye we were friends although I'm not sure when either of us would exactly admit that but definitely through our talks we became friends as unlikely as that may sound." He looked at Mary. "But don't you think a good friendship is the basis for romance?"
Mary gave a slight nod of her head while she looked deep in thought. "I guess I'd say Matthew and I were friends but it took us quite a bit of time to get there."
"Well you and Matthew had other issues."
Mary raised her brow in question at him.
"He came here to take what you thought should be yours." Tom smiled at her. "Not the best way to start a friendship or a romance." Then he chuckled "I know a lot of people questioned Sybil and my romance. But money, position, class and all those things had no importance to us."
After helping to spread a blanket on the ground, Tom went off to catch Sybbie who was wandering away. Mary admired how natural and at ease he seemed with his daughter, much more so than she was with George.
"Now don't tell you made the sandwiches, boiled the eggs and baked the tarts too?" Tom, holding Sybbie, jokingly laughed as he looked at the array of goodies Mary had spread onto a blanket.
"I think I've taken on enough duties that I think I can leave the cooking to someone else" Mary replied in the same lighthearted manner.
"That was quite unexpected which makes it all the more delicious" Tom said as he finished the last of the wedge of cheese tart. "I thought it would be a stale ham sandwich on the train ride back."
"Why didn't you drive here today?" Mary asked.
Tom shook his head. "Sybbie hasn't perfected the art of sitting still for such a long drive and Maeve couldn't come today. She's taking a secretarial course and had classes this morning."
"She's become a real asset to the business" he proudly pronounced as he once again tossed an orange, which was substituting for a ball, and Sybbie went rambling after it. "Maeve's taken over all the office work and is wonderful with the customers, applying that Irish charm" he winked at Mary.
Then laughing he continued "keeps Kiernan and me in line but I think she actually just relishes bossing her older brothers around."
"And of course she still helps me with Sybbie." He sat up, all gaiety gone as he stared at Mary. "I appreciate all the things you gave me the last time we were here. Some things I've displayed around the flat like that porcelain clock and other stuff is stored in boxes for when Sybbie is older. As I said Sybbie loves the rocking horse and I've read those books to her so many times I can recite them from memory but she loves the pictures. And those music boxes which Sybbie loves and I swear sometimes I still hear when I close my eyes at night."
"Really Tom most of that stuff was rightfully yours and things that belonged to Sybil as a child should go to her child."
Tom nodded, then took ran his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath but before he could say anything Mary said. "I love the photograph you sent me of her on the horse." She looked over to Sybbie who was now trying to bounce the orange. "She's growing so fast. I can't believe the changes just since that photograph."
"Well it is almost a year. I took that on her birthday" Tom replied "and her next birthday isn't even two months away."
"You didn't need to send the money." Tom's voice had taken a different tone, not quite defiant yet something that surprised Mary.
Mary looked at him. "Money? I didn't sent you any money."
"Mary" Tom began "we may not be getting rich but the garage is doing alright and granted I can't give Sybbie half of what you can give-"
"Tom I didn't send you any money." Mary was quite adamant. "Even if I wanted to I wouldn't know where to send it. You've never given me your address or even told me exactly where you're living and the envelope with the photograph didn't have a return address."
He stared at her. "If you didn't who did?"
Mary shook her head. "Why ever would you think …" she suddenly stopped talking as she remembered that conversation with Granny.
"I was in the village today." Something in her grandmother's voice caused Mary to sit up.
"I saw a young woman walking with a little girl that looked quite like Sybil at that young age.
"Granny" Mary quietly uttered. But would Granny have actually done it?
Might this have something to do with your mysterious disappearance this morning?"
Granny I have no idea what you're talking about.
"That child was Sybil's child."
"Why ever would Sybbie be in the village? Really Granny just because she had dark hair and blue eyes doesn't mean she's Sybil's daughter. I'm sure there are a lot of dark haired blue-eyed two year olds."
"Granny" Mary said louder and more firmly.
"Your grandmother?" Tom sounded incredulous. "Why every would the dowager send me money?"
Mary took a deep breath. "Last year Granny saw Sybbie in the village with Maeve. She confronted me but I denied it was Sybbie. Told her she was imagining the child she saw was Sybbie because of her guilty conscience."
"That child was Sybil's child." Violet was adamant.
"Maybe it's your guilty conscience that-"
"Guilty conscience!" A flabbergasted Violet rapped her cane indignantly on the floor. "Why would I have a guilty conscience? Why ever would you say such a thing?"
Mary could feel her anger rise as her muscles tightened and her heartbeat quickened. She could not believe Granny's words for of all the people Mary knew her grandmother was the most astute. She didn't bother hiding that anger as her voice sounded sharp, a tone she had never used before with Granny. "You and Papa drove Tom away."
Mary rose from her chair and began pacing across the bedroom not daring to look at Granny. "He could have worked with Matthew on the estate but you and Papa only saw him as a …" She turned her back on her grandmother as she stopped in front of the window. "And look what's happened. Your great-granddaughter … Sybil's child is lost to us."
Taking a deep breath she saw not the view of the front lawn but little Sybbie in her pretty blue and white checked dress, her arms held wide as she laughingly ran towards her father. Little Sybbie who was a striking image of her mother. Mary turned and faced Violet. Her anger hadn't been dispelled but she knew she had to control it and the softness of her voice was in a way more biting. "Sybil loved him Granny. She loved him very much and you and Papa should have acknowledged that and should have accepted him and the child. The child that Sybil lost her life giving birth to because of Papa's …" Mary lost her composure as tears began to flow down her cheeks.
"She must have …" Mary paused as her mind wondered had she really gotten through to Granny. "You know Granny how when she sets her mind on something. How did the money come to you?"
"A firm of solicitors contacted me. Apparently there's been a trust set up and each January 1 there's five hundred pounds I can draw on for that year."
"Five hundred pounds!"
"I'm just as amazed as you Mary by that amount." Indeed he was for he had never made anywhere near 500 pounds in a year.
Tom looked at his daughter who was now happily waving a stick around. "At first I thought of telling the solicitors they could send the money right back to whoever set the thing up but then I thought about-" he paused as he took a deep breath. "I realized it was my anger and my pride that would deny Sybbie things I can't afford. I could hire someone to look after her while I'm working, she wouldn't have to stay confined in that tiny play area I had set up and I could work in peace not constantly worrying about her."
"That sounds sensible Tom."
"It's worked out really well hiring someone to look after Sybbie but it's just during the day while Maeve and I are working. Of course that didn't use the whole 500 so much of it is still sitting there."
Mary looked at Sybbie who was still brandishing the stick while chasing a yellow and black butterfly. "Of course I can't ask Granny if she sent the money without letting her know I've talked to you." She looked at Tom "but you seem not to want anyone to know that."
Brushing off the crumbs that clung to his suit, Tom stood up and for a moment Mary feared he was going to walk away but then she realized he was composing what he wanted to say and she feared it was something she didn't want to hear.
"When Sybbie and I left Downton, I know I left angry and hurt and certainly still full of mourning. I left for many reasons which I don't need to explain but probably one of the greatest ones was that I couldn't stay where Sybil … where …" His voice faltered "Even now I can't face seeing the place where Sybil died." He cast his eyes in the direction of the grand house of which only the top of the tallest tower was visible over the treetops.
Keeping his face turned in that direction he paused before continuing. "But that's not really why I've been leery of your family. I've been afraid Mary." He turned and faced her. "Especially afraid to let your father see Sybbie. I thought that if he saw her, saw her as his granddaughter, he'd try to take her from me. That he realize he couldn't let the granddaughter of the Earl of Grantham be raised by a mechanic and living over a garage."
Mary, stunned by the depth his revelation, tried digesting what Tom had said. Would Papa ever do such a thing?
Still standing Tom looked all around him at the bucolic scenery so different from his crowded Liverpool neighborhood where there was nary a tree. "I've forgotten how lovely it is here. All the greenery and woods and pastures."
Mary sensed that Tom wanting no further discussion on her family or the money deliberately changed the direction of the conversation.
Mary also stood up. "I see it differently than before. I have a new appreciation for it all now that I'm managing the estate. I'm determined that there will be something for George to inherit." At that their conversation turned to estate matters with Mary asking Tom's opinion on various issues.
"Don't take us to the train station. I want to spend a few more minutes with Sybil" Tom told Mary as she drove them back to the village. From the leather bag he carried he pulled out a small hairbrush. "You want to look pretty for your mummy" he said to Sybbie. But Sybbie made it quite clear she didn't want to remove her crown of colorful wildflowers that she and Mary had woven.
Tom turned to face Mary. Shrugging his shoulders he said "she can be quite stubborn at times."
"And does that surprise you?" Mary jokingly asked.
"I just hope that she inherits some of our better qualities too" Tom laughingly replied.
It had been a wonderful day thought Mary and she was sorry to see it end. The more she talked to Tom the more she realized how much he had to offer and she valued hearing his opinions even when they didn't mesh with hers.
Stopping in front of the village church Mary was saddened to say goodbye to Tom and Sybbie. "Maybe she'll sleep on the ride back to Liverpool."
"If I'm lucky" Tom chuckled.
"It's been a grand day Mary."
"It has been Tom" she responded. "I just wish I'd see you more often."
"It's hard for me to get away from the garage."
"I understand Tom I just wish that-" Mary began but Tom spoke at almost the same moment.
"Who knows what the future will bring" he said as he opened the truck's passenger door.
He had taken two or three steps toward the church gate when he stopped and then turning around towards her he doffed his hat as he gave her a warm smile. "If nothing else same time next year."
Then turning once again towards the graveyard, holding Sybbie's hand, her head still topped by the wildflower crown, the two of them walked away.
Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter. As always any reviews would be appreciated. I'm not sure how many years I'm going to cover, I do have a few specific years in mind, but how many will also depend on your interest.