Chapter 10

Tom Branson went in search of breakfast. The coward within him he knew would like to wait for Sybil to do so but that did not seem as if it was a very practical solution to him. After all, he was living here now, and it was not as if he could wait for Sybil to go anywhere and everywhere within the abbey.

If that was the case, then he was not going to get to leave their room when she was at work.

He got into the kitchen and was about to make a bit of breakfast for himself when he ran into his first Crawley of the day.

It was Edith.

And in some ways, he was glad of it. Though she was not known for her kindness (she was not known for unkindness either), he did not think she was as spiky as Mary.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," Edith returned.

She had to say she had a great deal of admiration for Sybil. She knew what she wanted, and she went for it no matter what. But the night before had been awkward.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not really."

"No."

It was nothing to do with him and all to do with lockdown, her bad night.

She genuinely thought it would not happen and now she felt a fool and stuck and very much as if she had slept walked into the gilded cage of there not knowing when knowing when she could leave and when she would get to see Bertie once more. Her thoughts run into one as they had done so all night.

But they were thoughts she had dwelled on for a long time. They had kept her up through a long dark night.

She blinked and looked at Tom to see he was looking uncomfortable and she knew it was time for her to put him out of his misery.

"You know I do not mind you being here and locking down with us."

She said to him gently.

"You don't?"

"No - do not get me wrong, I am all with mama to think you could have gone about it in a better way, but I do think Sybil is going to need you in the months to come."

Their eyes met and there was an understanding between them. The gravity of their situation had hit both of them.

He could not and would not argue with any of that. They could have done it better.

But it was done now, and it was time for them to move on.

"Thank you," he said for he knew he had an ally in her. He was in short supply.

Yet it was at that moment, another came into the room. Though he had had his women that the girls would not like him being there he had not had that worry when it came to Matthew. Matthew, for lack of a better word, was not likely to give too much of a shit.

It turned out he was right, for the young Mr Crawley barely bated eyelid at the sight of him but then he did look as if he was in a bit of a rush.

He was throwing on a jumper as he grabbed a banana.

"Are you quite ok Matthew?" Edith asked. Matthew nodded.

"I need to get to Crawley House. My mother is moving out."

X x x

Charles Carson walked into what was the servant's hall.

The first thing he saw was young Ivy sitting at the table – on her phone.

"No work Ivy?" he asked.

"Not yet. I got up for nine, but my teacher has sent nothing through, and I think it is stressing mum out as she doesn't know what to do with me."

As if by magic Beryl appeared.

True to what her daughter said she did look as if she was somewhat stressed.

"Well, I spoke to your teachers and they say it may be up to a week before we get much in the way of work." Beryl sighed. Honestly, it was ridiculous, but she was also very much aware that it was no one's fault. She disliked it heartily when there was no one to blame. But the fact of it was she had had a good relationship with the school all the way through, from Daisy being in year seven to Ivy now in year eleven. And truly, the teachers had had all this dumped on them. No wonder it would take them a while to get anything put together for them.

That just left the question of what they were going to do in the meantime.

Ivy knew her mother well enough to know the appropriate answer to that,

"Well, I think I am going to go and explore the grounds for a bit if that's ok. I'll call it PE."

Beryl looked at her daughter with affection. She was doing this more for her than herself she knew that, making herself scarce.

Thus, Charles and Beryl found themselves on their own.

"Are you quite ok?" he asked her.

She shut her eyes. "You know what I – I think I need a bit of – of food in. we can still go to Tesco's, can't we?" she doubled checked.

"For essential items we can," he said slowly, emphasising the key word and raising his eyebrows. It was clear he did not approve of what she was thinking. "Elsie and I were thinking of doing an online shop."

Beryl thought of the alcohol aisle. "Oh, this trip is the very definition of essential."

X x x

Dickie Merton had thought when he had married Isobel that that was going to be it for the two of them. They were not old, but they were not spring chickens either. They had a lovely home at Crawley House, and he had thought they were going to live there together forever. He had not thought that within a few years of their marriage, she was going to be moving out.

Somehow, it did not make it any better that she was doing it for him. Somehow, it made it so much worse for him.

Even after she had packed her bags, he felt terrible. This wasn't right.

"Why don't I go?" he asked once more as she came down the stairs with her suitcase. He was the man – and a somewhat old fashioned one at that - and he did not want her in any discomfort.

"You know why I have to be the one to go, my love – so I can move into the home and lockdown there."

Isobel had thought it through a thousand times over the course of the night and if she was honest, it was the only thing in the world that made sense to her right then.

If the two of them could not live safely together right then, then it made sense for him to be the one who stayed put and she could move into the care home.

It was better for everyone if she was not in and out of there all the time as it was.

She was going to be a lot less of a risk to her charges if she moved in.

"But – but this is your home," and it had been hers long before it was his. "If you just travelled between here and work then you could have all of your home comforts at the end of the day." And he did not need to ask to know they were going to be exceptionally long and troubling days for her, the ones ahead.

"Yes, it is – and in my home, I want my husband." She said as she laid hands on him for what she knew was going to be the last time in a while. Maybe she should not even be doing this – maybe it made a mockery of her moving out, she wasn't sure, but the truth was she needed a little something to take with her and see her through the rest of it.

"I want to know that when this is over – and it will end – that you have been here keeping this place ticking over for me. Promise me," she said as she looked up into what she could only call his handsome face.

She would never be able to explain to anyone how she loved him for she knew it was only young folks who were meant to feel as she did.

But my word love him she did.

He nodded and before she knew anything else, he had her in his arms and was holding her together than he ever had before. Tears leaked out his eyes and feel on to her forehead as he kissed her.

"I love you." he said as he cupped her cheeks.

"I love you. And I will see you soon," she said as she brushed their lips together and then made her way to the door.

She had to go. If she didn't go soon then she wasn't going too. With no idea when she would return home…

She made her way down the path to her car, threw her bag in and got behind the well. This was it. She started the ignition.

She had just been about to drive away when there was a tap on the window…

She wished he wouldn't make this any harder than it had to be.

"Isobel – stay safe." Dickie said with longing, already missing her with his entire soul.

That was what he wanted her to do more than anything – to stay safe.

His wife nodded and then drove away, not noticing her son coming towards the house from the other direction as she did so.

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