Author Note: Hello all, I hope you are all well and staying safe.
As I am sure you have guessed from the title, this is going to be only the most modern of modern AUs. This story has been written for NanoWrimo2020 and will follow the characters as they clap for carers, panic buy and endure what 2020 has brought.
This story has been therapy for me – as has everyone, I've had a very different year and its been tough at times. Still, the end is now near and maybe because of that I feel ready to go right back to the beginning (in a purely fictional sense!) strangely enough. So here goes nothing…
Lockdown Abbey
Chapter 1, New Years Eve, 2019
Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far, tell me more, tell me more, like did he have a car?
The Grease Medley could be heard throughout the Abbey from the old servants' quarters to the high ceilings. New Year's Eve and a wedding gave the party goers plenty of reasons to celebrate and for the most part they were doing it well and with style. Many more chairs were empty than full, as elbows bumped on the dance floor.
One seat that was full right then though was that of Isobel Crawley-Merton. Her feet, truth be told, were killing her and as she had already danced with her beloved son and to more than one other song, her duty she felt was done.
"Are you quite alrigh,t my darling?" a voice said in her ear. Dickie Merton, her beloved husband had just returned with fresh drinks.
"Oh, yes – I am just enjoying spectating."
"And so you should," Dickie replied. She had done all she could as mother of the groom to help make the day a success as well as raised a lovely son. She had a lot to be proud of.
"I do believe Matthew and Mary are going to be happy," she said with much confidence.
It had been a long road for the two of them to get to the alter due to too much silliness for her to remember then. She was simply glad none of it seemed to matter now.
"I do not see why they should not be." In fact, he did not know why they would not be as happy as they were.
They themselves were a later in life match. Isobel had lost her husband and he had lost his wife and both had been ready for somewhat of a new lease of life. They had found it in each other.
Across the great hall, Edith, the sister of the bride stood with her beau Bertie Pelham.
"I do not know for the life of me why weddings always have to end in rubbish music." Edith commented.
"Oh come, it is tradition and these songs are so bad they are good!" he grinned as Edith drunk her wine.
"Maybe if we get a bit of Frankie Valley I might agree!"
Bertie grinned. What a lady, what a night indeed…. In his head, at one point, this night would have been a big one for them. Bigger than it was. After a year of dating, he had hoped to make them more official. Yet he knew it would be bad form to propose at Mary's wedding.
"Until then let's do what we can with Danny and Sandie," he said as he led her to the dance floor. She would not say no.
Together, they ended up dancing by Sybil and Tom. Tom Branson over the last few weeks had been a subject of great debate between Sybil and her parents. It was the opinion of Robert Crawley that in no way, shape or form was Tom Branson good enough for his wonderful daughter. It was true they were not living in the early 1900s and it was not as if they needed his blessings, but he had to say he could not but wish it was the case that his daughter set a little more store by what he thought. Yet she did not. So far, in the burgundy bridesmaids' dresses that she, Edith and Anna were in, Sybil had been dancing the night again, with her Irishman.
'She was sweet, just turned 18, she was good, you know what I mean.'
Sybil was elder than eighteen, but it was as if the song was written for her just at that moment…
She laughed out loud with joy as he turned her in his arms…
"I know Tom is not who you would choose for Sybil but it is so nice to see all of our girls so happy," Cora Crawley, the Countess of Grantham said to her husband. Robert wished he could say that was not the case, but it was…
Mary had been a very happy bride all day, Edith looked as if she would not be long behind her and Sybil was on cloud nine. What more could any parent want?
"Well, I grant it is not every day that we get to see that," he said as they stood on the side lines of the dance floor.
Like the mother of the groom, the parents of the bride felt as if they had done their bit and were feeling rather tired. But they were full of joy after the wonderfulness of the day.
Mary radiated joy as she and Matthew danced in the middle of the dance floor.
"I hope they are as happy as we have always been," Cora said as she took his hand.
Robert smiled and squeezed her hand.
Yes, he would agree with that – only more so. He hoped Matthew would be a better husband to his daughter than he was.
Just outside the abbey, a pretty blonde stood in the lightly falling snow. She needed a bit of air. It had been a good day at no mistake, but weddings were long days and her bridesmaids dress as lovely as it was, wasn't helping her keep cool.
And as it was her body was under a little strain. She had her hands on her small, but now noticeable baby bump when from behind, a pair of arms encased her and big, warm hands sat on of her own smaller ones.
That felt nice.
"I thought you might be out here," the warm, loving voice of her husband said.
"Just catching my breath," she said in way of explanation as she rested her head on his chest.
"Do you want to go home and rest? I think we've done our duty for the day…"
"John I am only six months along – I can't go home and rest every time I feel a bit tired…"
"You could."
" – and besides that it is my best friend's wedding as well as New Year's Eve. We have to see in twelve o'clock." John had to say he was not too sure how much he cared about any of that when he weighed it against the health of Anna and the baby - it felt like nothing at all.
"We can go home whenever you are ready," he said to her once more.
"Well I am not ready yet," she said as she took his hand and lead him back into the abbey. She was not going to be going home anytime soon.
As they did so they passed Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. Mr Carson worked at the abbey as an overall manager for when the building was open to the public. Mrs Hughes was his equivalent but head of staff.
"I can't say I am going to be sad when the house is back to normal."
"Oh Mrs Hughes, do you not have a romantic bone in your body?" he asked making her arch her eyebrow. Any other day, that was a question which would have been asked the other way around. But this was the wedding of Lady Mary Crawley. Carson had worked at the abbey since she had been a small girl. Seeing her happy and settled of late had been one of his dearest wishes. And now he could.
"I do but I also know how long it is going to take us to get back to –"
"Elsie," Charles said with humour.
She knew she was not going to win with him that night so she may as well enjoy it. She had been until she saw a friend looking rather far from happy.
"Are you ok Beryl?" Elsie said as she saw the redhead rushing towards the lavatory. She too worked at the abbey, as cook in the café.
"Yes I am," she said in a tone that said she wasn't. But her daughter Ivy was not going to be when she got her hands on her. When they had got an invite to the wedding she had to say how surprised she had been and had warned her girls, Daisy and Ivy, to be on their best behaviour. Thus she was more than a little peeved to find out one of them hadn't been. She had heard from the elder of her two girls that the young had her head down the loo. Ivy wasn't even old enough to drink legally, but the champagne toast had clearly gone to her head!
"I dare say someone is going to be in trouble when they get up in the morning," Charles said to Elsie as Beryl left them in her wake.
She did believe that to be true.
It was therefore she was rushing off to her daughter as the countdown to midnight begun.
Ten.
Isobel took Dickie's hand and squeezed it in hope for the future. She could only hope her son would be as happy as she was.
Nine.
Bertie just felt joy she got to see the New Year in with Edith, who he hoped would be his wife one day.
Eight.
Anna put her hand on her belly. This would be the year she met her child and there was no greater magic.
Seven.
Ivy knew she was for it as her mother held her hair back. The rest of the school holidays were not going to be fun and the sooner she got back to class the better.
Six.
Tom felt as if no matter what came in 2020, as long as he could face it with Sybil, then it would all be fine with him. She was the freest person he had ever met and he loved that about her with his whole heart.
Five.
Robert looked with affection on the young married couple. He hoped with a fair wind and a bit of luck they would make a good go of their marriage. He hoped more than anything Matthew would be a better husband than he was.
Four.
John Bates could not wait to get back to his own home with his own wife with the little cot set up already in the corner of their bedroom. Not long now…
Three.
Edith laughed as Bertie pulled her into his arms. He was such a good man and 2019 had been such a good year for her. Much better than 2017.
Two.
Cora just felt delighted. What an end to the year… how beautiful her girls were. How lucky the whole family was. In the last second of the year she wished for another just like the one they had had.
One.
Mary Crawley felt as if she was whole, as if she was complete. It almost felt as if it took a life time for them to get here.
Here was in the Abbey, in the arms of Matthew Crawley, on what was the day after her wedding in the year 2020.
"Happy New Year Mrs Crawley," Matthew whispered in her ear lovingly, the same tone he had used with her all day.
"Happy New Year, husband," she returned, brushing her lips to his.
2019. The year they had married.
2020. Who knew what was next now? All she knew was she was excited.
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