Servants Series 2

by ss9

Continuation of BBC series Servants: The men return from Cumberland

4. Episode 4

Slightly later that morning, Adams, noticing the strange pungent smell the past day, has still failed to work out what it is. He manages to finally drag himself out of bed, the light streaming through the window, and concludes that it is best he carries on as normal. Staying in bed fretting would only make matters worse, and anyway he still has his figure to think of, even if Weightwatchers had been a total disaster. And he was sure the smell was getting worse. It smelt like a cross between egg and rotting meat, but he wasn't quite sure. Dressing himself, he decides to start the day the same way as he used to, all those years ago in Glasgow – with a couple of shots of the finest Scottish whisky, followed by another shot of whisky, followed by….well….more whisky. He can hold his drink, though, so he was sure nobody would notice. Lifting the bottle to his mouth he stops, intensely looking at it. He frowns then puts it down. No, he had to be strong. He can't face going through all that again, and he knows that once he gets on that slippery slope he'll find it hard to go back.

Cut to breakfast in the servants hall. Everyone is full of gossip about Mrs Ryan leaving, but because Adams won't let them mutter a bad word about either her or Jarvis they are stuck for things to talk about, and Thomas is far too a depressing thing to discuss at breakfast. Their only option is small talk, as television is yet to be invented, otherwise the subject would be football, Posh 'n' Becks, or Eastenders. Damn that lack of 19th century commoners entertainment.

Fred: "So, anyone heard about any new Dickens novel lately?"

Will: "Apparently David Copperfield is good, so Mr Jarvis says."
All nod slowly. Silence descends until George speaks up

George: "That Robert Peel. Gosh, he was a great Prime Minister, don't you think?

Susan: "And he introduced the police, which has to be a good thing, considering the burglary."All nod again in agreement.

Will: "Well, my money's on that William Gladstone. I think he will go far advocating those free trade policies."

Grace: "Yes, that's all very well, but Disraeli is the one to watch. If my political sense of smell is correct, I would predict he is made Chancellor next year."

Will leaning forward: "Wanna bet?"

Grace grinning: "You're on!"

Adams shaking his head and sipping tea: "Haven't you lot got anything better to talk about than politics? Like anyone would be stupid enough to give YOU lot the vote! Disraeli Chancellor – never! standing up and glaring at Grace Women shouldn't talk about things they don't understand! Next you'll be saying he'll make Prime Minister!" And with that he tuts and walks off.

It is later that morning and Jarvis is storming down the corridor towards his office, his arm still in a sling, while Adams marches after him

Adams Following him into his office, then standing by the door: "Feeling better now, sir?"

Jarvis pulls back his chair and sits firmly down, looking disdainfully at Adams

J: "It's not really a case of how well I'm feeling, I just can't bear staying in that room any longer without going mad. Anyway, I heard you were under the weather too, just when I needed a man about the place to keep order."

Adams: "Aye sir, I was but I'm feeling much better now, just a bit of a cold."

J Opening his big book of figures with the able hand and awkwardly fixing on his spectacles: "Well that's good because I need you to tend the Earl today, just until my arm becomes a little more mobile."

Adams: "Of course, Mr Jarvis."

J: "Thomas' funeral will be held in two days time, and I will inform the servants at a meeting I'm calling for this afternoon."

Adams hoping Jarvis will take the bait: "I'm surprised Mrs Ryan didn't stay long enough to see the poor boy buried, sir!" Jarvis looks up sharply from his book as Adams moves further into the room "Her departure seemed a little….sudden, Mr Jarvis." Adams was almost smirking again. Well, if he was going to hide his increasing depression why not be horrible as normal?

J Resisting Adams' insinuations and looking back down at his figures while trying to write with his left hand: "The Earl wanted her to go to London so of course she had to oblige, but I'm sure we'll manage in her absence. The new housekeeper will be here in a few days, so if she's anything like Mrs Ryan I'm sure this place will be working like clockwork again in no time."

Adams: "If she's anything like Mrs Ryan, sir, we may have a problem on our hands."

He gives Jarvis a knowing look, but before he can respond to the taunt Adams turns on his heels and trots out of the office, closing the door firmly behind him. Jarvis, in his frustration with Adams and his lack of writing ability, accidentally knocks over his ink pot and his big book is ruined. Cursing, he pulls out as much blotting paper as he can to mop up the mess, but half way through he just stops and stares out of the window. It dawns on him how down he is still feeling, and how he aches for Flora even though she has only been gone a few hours. He knows that if he sat and went over it again and again in his mind he would fail miserably to get through the coming months. He had kidded himself before - no housekeeper could EVER be like Flora Ryan. She was irreplaceable. He then remembers his ink accident, and carries on cleaning up

Adams returns to his room to have a sniff of whisky if nothing else, but when he walks in the smell hits him like a wall – it was definitely getting a lot worse

Adams to himself: "Right, I'm going to find out what this is once and for all."

He then proceeds to turn his room upside-down in a desperate attempt to hunt out the chickens. Drawers are flung open and he climbs into his cupboard, almost squeezing himself in, but as he does so the cupboard becomes unstable and begins to totter from one side to another as he flays around inside. He is making such a terrible racket that Jarvis is alerted and, worrying Will was trying to tie him up again (or worse), marches up to Adams' room

J appearing in doorway, then realising the awful smell holds his nose: "Mr Adams, what ARE you doing!"

Adams tries to reply but loses his footing inside his cramped cupboard, falling backwards and taking the cupboard with him. He manages to roll quickly out of the way before it smashes to the floor, clothes everywhere, and to both his and Jarvis' surprise a large plucked and rather green-looking chicken flies up into the air and smashes down onto Adams' chest, causing him to gasp in shock and pain. J is left speechless, looking at the chicken, at Adams, then back at the chicken. Adams groans, flopping his head back onto the floor

Adams through gritted teeth: "I've been looking for this." He pulls the chicken off himself and dumps it on the floor.

J: "Well, I think you may have found it, Mr Adams." But then he notices a foot, obviously belonging to another fowl, just poking out from underneath Adams' mattress. He goes over, giving it a reluctant tug, a look of complete displeasure on his face "Are you collecting dead birds, Mr Adams? And please get up off the floor!"

Adams pulls himself to his feet, wincing as pain shoots up his back. He lifts his mattress up and Jarvis pulls out the chicken, which is somewhat flat and squidgy. Adams' look of confusion suddenly turns to anger.

Adams limping to the door, two dead chickens in his grasp: "That foreign idiot did this! I'll make him pay!" He swiftly leaves the room and storms off down the corridor, hell-bent on finding Kraus and clobbering him with his own fowl

J calling after him: "Mr Adams, come back! Stop!"

Cut to kitchen, where Kraus is getting very excited at the prospect of making his own cheese for the next cheese-rolling competition, which is to co-inside with the annual summer male servant Pond Olympics that is soon to take place

Kraus enthusiastically to the bored-looking kitchen staff: "My cheese will be bigger and better than any other cheese in the county, and it will roll perfectly! Those skittles won't know what has hit them – and that is literally!"

Enter Adams, fury on his face, thrusting the chickens at a startled Kraus

Adams: "You think you're so clever don't you, with your foreign ways and your croissants and your CRÈME ANGLAISE!"

Kraus nervously laughing: "Mr Adams, I……."

Adams shaking one chicken in Kraus' face, its beak dangerously close to his eye: "Thought you'd have a joke at my expense did you – I was a sick man and you thought it would be FUNNY to put dead chickens in my room!"

By now word of the confrontation had spread right around the staff, and Susan, Charlotte, Grace and Will were first, apart from kitchen staff, to appear on the scene. Adams didn't seem to care who was watching, if he noticed at all. His eyes are wide and manic as Kraus is quite literally fearing for his life

Kraus backing off: "It wasn't me, you fool! Felix Kraus is certainly not a person who would do such a thing!"

Adams: "And why on earth should I believe you! You hate me, I know you do, and guess what I hate you too!"

J pushing his way through the gawping staff, his shoulder sore: "Mr Adams, you will stop this at once!" Glances from Adams to Kraus "Both of you, my office, now! Mr Adams put those chickens down!"

Will is stifling laughter as the three men storm out of the kitchen. George arrives, missing the action

George to Will: "Hey mate, what's that about?"

Will nudging him and grinning, fixing his wig as they head off to carry out their footman duties: "Guess?"

Grace To Susan: "What is wrong with people around here lately? It's all gone completely mad."

Susan: "Must be something in the water! It was never this exciting before George arrived, he must be a bad influence on the place!" She walks off leaving Grace pondering her words

Jarvis' office. Kraus and Adams are stood rigidly glaring at each other while J prowls up and down

Kraus: "I swear it wasn't me, Mr Jarvis! This man is a lunatic!"

Adams: "I'll give you lunatic………."

J: "Both of you, just stop it now! I really don't care any more! I have a house to run and you will learn to behave like adults before the new housekeeper arrives or I will dock your wages, Mr Kraus, and you Mr Adams will have to cook your own meals, with rationed food, for the next month! Am I understood!"

Both nod, but Adams vows to get his own back at some point one way or another. He concludes Kraus is no more than a jumped-up cook who should have stayed in his own country. They are angrily dismissed by Jarvis, whose shoulder pain is getting worse through stress. He didn't need this constant aggravation. Why did Flora have to leave now? He didn't want another housekeeper, however temporary, but if she's quiet and gets on with her job, what harm could she possibly do?

Charlotte, Susan, Lizzie and Grace are quietly talking in the Servants Hall at Lunch time

Grace: "I hate the way the men think we now nothing about politics."

Lizzie: "I know, It's like they think were a different species to them."

Grace: "Hmm, most of them think we're totally inferior."

Susan: "We're not though."

Lizzie: "Of course not. I bet Grace knows more about politics than Mr Adams does."

Grace: "Of course I do! But then again that can't be difficult I bet Johnny knows more about Politics than Mr Adams!"

Lizzie: "I bet if we had the right to vote we'd be much more sensible than people like Mr Adams and Mr Kraus."

Susan: "Why don't we have the right to vote?"

Charlotte: "Well it's not a woman's place to interfere in those sorts of things, she leaves that to her husband." Charlotte tried to interject to be the one voice of reason.

Susan: "But what if you don't have a husband?"

Lizzie: "No voice at all then, I suppose."

Charlotte: "And what would you want with a vote, may I ask, I wouldn't mean an increase in your wages or another day off a month."

Lizzie: "You never know Charlotte one day it might? What do you think Grace?"

Grace paused for a moment a broad smile on her face: "Ladies I think I have an idea."

It was a sombre few days for the staff at Taplows, many were feeling the loss of Mrs Ryan, not just Mr Jarvis. On top of this there was Tom's funeral, which had been a quiet and dignified affair; Mr Adams had read the lesson and Grace had laid a wreath from the staff. However despite this most were curious about the imminent arrival of the new temporary housekeeper Catherine Stanwick. The morning of her arrival the senior staff sat down to breakfast, as usual Felix tried to engage the others in conversation, a task more difficult since Flora's departure.

The Valets were recovering from yet another late night poker game and so had contributed little to the small talk. Mr Jarvis had spent the meal chasing his scrambled egg around his plate and barely eating a bite. Felix sighed to himself he was supposed to be keeping an eye on Jarvis for Flora but as yet he had little good to report. The Butler had spent the last few days carrying out his duty but his heart had not been in it, not even the altercation with Mr Adam and the chickens had been able to bring a smile to his face. Suddenly they were interrupted by a knock on the door, it was Mr Adams.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Johnny just spotted the carriage on the hillside, Mrs Stanwick should be here in under twenty minutes. Do you want me to assemble the staff?"

Mr Jarvis looked up from his untouched breakfast, "I suppose so, could you take care of it Mr Adams? I have an appointment with his lordship on the hour and so won't be able to meet her in person."

"Aye sir." Said Adams, backing out of the room but not before casting a dirty glance in Kraus's direction.

Cut to courtyard, the carriage pulls up Will jumps forward to open the door and assist the new housekeeper out, trying to score brownie points as early as possible. However Catherine waved him aside and jumped down from the carriage unaided, her bright blue eyes taking in the assembled staff. Striding forward her hand outstretched she grasped Mr Adams hand and shook it firmly.

"Welcome to Taplows Mrs Stanwick."

"Thank you, Mr Jarvis?"

"No I'm Mr Adams, the under-butler."

"Oh," Catherine's face clouded over for a moment in annoyance before settling back into a slight smile, "Well you better introduce me to the rest of the staff."
Adams and Mrs Stanwick then moved down the line as he introduced her to the rest of the staff.

Later on around lunchtime the staff were all settling down for their meal, raucous chatter and banter as they swapped jokes and gossip, when up on the balcony Mrs Stanwick the new housekeeper appeared bell in hand. This she rang loudly and shrilly, causing all of the lower servants to stop and stare.

"My my what a rag tag bunch you are, what has happened to prayers before meals or is this household a bunch of heathens." She said sharply, glaring especially at Mr Adams who had risen to retort, it was bad enough having to take criticism from Jarvis but he as hanged if he was going to let a woman with only one foot in the door admonish him so openly in front of his staff, but before he could get a word out she spoke again.

"What's the matter with you man? Cat got your tongue?" Then she wandered off to the upper-servants dinning room muttering under breath about incompetent idiots and how is anyone supposed to be professional under these circumstances, whilst the other servants Will and George in particular sniggered behind their hands at Adams who by now was beetroot.

It was thus in this frame of mind that she arrived at the Upper-Servants meal. Sweeping into the room she paused only for a moment taking the measure of everyone assembled. Mr Jarvis got up from his chair and walked over to her, nodding he began, "Mrs Stanwick I'm the butler Mr Jarvis, I'm sorry I was unable to meet you this morning but I was engaged with the Earl."

Catherine, who had been ready to issue Jarvis with a reprimand for his lack of common courtesy, visibly relaxed and smiled broadly at Mr Jarvis. "Oh so that was it, don't understand why your Mr Adams didn't just say so?"

Jarvis face clouded over, damn that Andrew Adams always trying to stir up trouble. "Well I'm sure he just forgot." He added diplomatically. Catherine smiled again, hmmm, handsome and a gentleman maybe this stay at Taplows wasn't going to be as dull as she'd previously thought?

However the meal didn't prove as successful in that regard as Catherine had hoped, although Mr Jarvis had been polite he had also remained distant and impervious to her more subtle flirtation, this sent warning bells off in her head there had to be another woman. So she had tried to get to know the rest of the senior staff by the end of lunchtime she had met and talked briefly with them all except the infamous Prussian Chef, who couldn't be torn away from the kitchen.

Later in the afternoon, in the kitchen whilst Kraus was making one of his lavish supper's for the Earl and Lizzie is making the pastry for a pie, the new housekeeper saunters into the kitchen.

Cat: "Good Afternoon, Mr Kraus. I am Mrs Stanwick, the new housekeeper."

Kraus: Takes her hand "Honoured to meet you, Mrs Stanwick."

Cat: "Oh, Mr Kraus, you don't need to call me that. Laughs, flirtatiously Please call me Catherine, everyone does!"

Some of the maids snigger, including Lizzie (who has suspicions that Kraus is slightly gay), but when Cat looks round she can't see who they are.

Cat: sternly "I'm sure you girls have work you should be doing, do Mr Kraus and I will continue this conversation outside." Cat and Kraus walk out to the corridor

Kraus: "You needn't have been so hard on them you know. Most of your maids are good, hardworking souls."

Cat: "As well as hard playing and gossiping souls go?"

Kraus: "They're young, they have every right to have fun."

Cat: "Well I don't want any idle chit-chat about myself, while I am here, even if you don't mind it Mr Kraus."

Although she is trying to flirt, Cat realises that, at the moment, she won't get anywhere with the Prussian chef. At least not at the moment

Cat: "Well, I have work to do. It was nice meeting you Mr Kraus. I hope I will have the pleasure of your company at dinner, although Mr Jarvis is such a delightful gentleman, I'm sure your presence will make the evening simply fly by."

Kraus: Taking her hand again. "I'll make a point of it Mrs Stanwick… Sorry, Catherine." Cat walks away a humming a tune to herself and Kraus watches her go with a growing feeling of uneasiness, this was the last thing he needed, to have to fend off a woman's advances without upsetting her, and then there was that throwaway remark about Mr Jarvis. Could it be possible the new housekeeper was making a move on both of them at the same time? For his own part he knew she had no chance, but that didn't stop him worrying about Walter, although he knew his friend loved Flora dearly, he was a man, and one who feeling abandoned by the woman he loved might not think twice before making a terrible mistake!"

Next scene. It is now late in the afternoon and Adams has returned to his room. The day had proved quite stressful, what with the new housekeeper arriving, and he could feel the call of his whisky bottle. Unable to resist, he opens his drawer and pulls it out. He notes with frustration that he is running out, and needs to get some more fast - but he knows exactly where to get it. He remembers that the Earl, partial to the delights of the wet stuff himself, keeps only the finest whiskies around, and of course Adams knows exactly where it is kept. The Earl is such a drunk at the moment, even with Gwen around, that Adams works out that he would never notice his supplies running low, and it is stocked up on a regular basis anyway. That night, he decides, would be a good opportunity to top up his bottle. He drinks, then, thinking the others wouldn't miss him for five minutes, puts his diary on his desk and begins to scribble:

Dear Diary,
Feel awful again. Depressed, depressed, depressed. Had drink again - v. bad. Three shots. Or was it four? Had six cigarettes this morning. Naughty, naughty. All weight obsessive again, must go back to the salads. New housekeeper Catherine arrived today - right little minx she seems! She certainly is most agreeable, but she's taken a fancy to J for some untold reason. She's desperate for it, I can tell. But why do women always seem to like him? Why not me! But there is Susan, I suppose, but she's hardly beautiful. Still beggars can't be choosers. J is as miserable as a Glasgow winter at the moment - must be because he's not getting his leg over. That'll soon be solved if that Cat has anything to do with it.

Confused about Lizzie. Plan B is backfiring now as that Charlotte and Grace are talking to her again. She's too nice for her own good, and I don't think they trust me. Don't know why not. These women are getting to opinionated for their own good and should be taught a lesson - that's what happens when women aren't married off, they don't know their place.

That foreigner needs to be taught a lesson too, but I will resist for now. He'll regret ever stepping foot in this country if he tries anything like that again. Need more fags and booze but running out. Life's a dog. End Entry

He sighs, putting away the whisky and the diary, then looking round at the mess left from the chicken fiasco. The smell has just about gone, but it is still stale. He flings the window open then goes about angrily tidying the room.

Cut to servants hall, where Will, George and Grace are gossiping. Johnny is there too, but everyone is resigned to the fact that he must be mute because he never talks

Grace: "So, Mrs Stanwick, eh - she seems quite a lively one."

Will grinning: "Quite a lively one! She's well up for it, I reckon! She was flirting with George and me like mad before!"
Grace shots a stare at George, who shuffles uneasily

Grace curious but trying to act casual while folding a table cloth: "Why? What was she saying?"

Will: "She was like all giggly and touching my hand and she even patted George's arse! puts on high pitched voice 'Oh Mr Forest, you're ever so charming, did you get that from your father or were you just groomed well? Oh I do love a well-toned footman, and my aren't your calves firm!'"

George jusmping to his own defence: "The bottom patting - that's not strictly true, Grace, she pulled my tails - stop stirring, Will!"

Grace walking off: "Sounds like that's not the only thing she'll be pulling if she gets chance!"

Will is laughing, jumping over the table and landing with a spring in his step

Will: "Oh don't worry mate, I'm sure the lovely Mrs Stanwick is harmless really. I mean, she was married to a vicar so can't be that bad. I'm obviously just too much to resist, all women love me."

George whispering: "Hey, d'you think Adams suspects it was us with the chickens?"

Will dismissively: "Nah, he so thinks it was our nutty chef. He pulls in closer to George Now I think it's time for a little 'revenge attack' on Felix, don't you?"

George: "We'll get found out, we will you know! Kraus will suspect--.."

Will: "Not if we're careful! I'll give it some thought. In the meantime I'm going to go and find Mrs Stanwick and see if she wants to feel my muscles. in high-pitched accent again 'Mr Forest what good bone structure you have, the best I've seen while both in and out of service'. London can keep Mrs Ryan! Then he nudges George, a sly look on his face Hey, maybe I'll be in with a chance with this one, unless Jarvis isn't fussy about which housekeepers he beds, of course. Actually maybe we could share her - I could have her at weekends! She seems the type."
George doesn't reply, instead he shakes his head in mock disgust, exiting after Grace, leaving Will laughing and juggling oranges

Adams sees the Earl riding off with Gwen, mid afternoonish. They come back early in the evening, and Adams waits a while. Then he goes to the servants door into the Earls drawing room, and hears him with Gwen, very, very drunk

Adams to himself: "Now's my chance."

He goes to the servants door to the Earls study, where he knows the Earl keeps his whisky. He goes straight in and to a secret panel, a painting of the Earls father, above the desk. He swings the painting aside and there are dozens of bottles of whisky. He realises he must take some from the back, so the Earl doesn't know they've gone straight away. He takes two bottles, and scuttles back to his room. But, he is a greedy fellow, and within 5 minutes he's back and takes another 2. This time he makes sure that the panel is closed properly, and closes the door quietly, so no nosey footman, or that annoying Mr Jarvis, come along to see what is wrong. He thinks he's done well, 4 bottles of very good whisky, and he's back in his room cracking open the first bottle. Then disaster strikes. Cat walks by the door and, seeing him in there, comes in.

Cat hadn't liked Mr Adams from the first time she had spoken to Mr Jarvis. He had said he had forgotten to mention the reason for Jarvis's absence, but she thought there was more to it than that. Now seeing Mr Adams with a bottle of whisky, which looked too expensive for him really annoyed her. He forgot prayers at meals, and now it looked like there was more to him than it seems. Besides, he was the only man in the house who looks didn't meet her desires.

Adams quickly hid the bottle, and hoped that Cat hadn't seen it!

Cat: "Good evening Mr Adams."

Adams: "Good evening Mrs Stanwick, anything I could do for you?"

Cat: "Not really, just wondering who was looking after the lower servants while you're here enjoying a little tipple."

Adams damn that women, she had seen him. And he'd forgotten those pesky lower servants. How was he going to talk his way out of this one: "I left Mr Forest in charge, I just came up here to find something." He hoped it'd worked.

Cat: "And what had you forgotten, Mr Adams? That Servants shouldn't drink while on duty, or that prayers have to be said before meals?"

Adams: "Well, I….."

Cat: "Well? I'm waiting!"

Adams: "Umm…."

Cat: "Fine, even though you can't find an excuse, I don't want to cause any trouble on my first day. But, if you forget prayers once more, I'll tell Mr Jarvis. Agreed?"

Adams: "Fine." And with that he scuttles of to the Lower servants hall

Later that evening. George catches up with Grace out side the servants hall

George: "Grace, are you angry with me? You know Will tends to over exaggerate."

Grace: "Well, he didn't sound like he was over exaggerating to me."

George: "Oh, Grace. Look, that new housekeeper is a flirt. Lizzie even said she was trying to flirt with Kraus."

Grace: giggling "What good that'll do her (!)"

George: "See?"

Grace: "Yes, I understand, sort of. Just promise me one thing."

George: "What?"

Grace: "That you weren't flirting back."

George: "Of course I wasn't. Grace, you know I've only got eyes for one women."

Grace: "Yes, I suppose so."

George: "Good. Then meet me just outside the old bakehouse at 10, tonight?"

Grace: "Of course I will."

About the same time, in Jarvis's study. Jarvis had received a letter earlier that day, but, being as busy as he is, hadn't had time to read it. He hadn't recognised her hand-writing, she had disguised it so no one else would know.

Jarvis To himself: "It's from Flora!"

Dear Walter,

I scarcely know how to begin this letter, let me just reassure that I have arrived in London safely and have made good progress in assembling a working household. However the more time I spend with my new colleagues the more I miss those I have left behind, please don't think that I am not suffering from this our first separation, although you may rightly think that my pain deserved, after all it was of my own making, I hope in someway it gives you comfort to know how much I miss you. I miss you being the first thing I see in the mornings; the way I feel when you look at me, I miss the safety and warmth of your embrace, the touch of your hands on my face and your lips on mine.

Darling there isn't a thing about you I don't miss, but I am glad I no longer have to hear the sniggers and snide remarks, I know my running away was a cowardly selfish thing to do, but Walter I was afraid. I was afraid of what might happen if the Earl found out, if we were exposed so publicly to ridicule but honestly I think I am most frightened by the depth of my feelings for you, when we are together I lose a part of myself and all semblance of self control. I suppose that was the real reason for my flight, I was afraid of losing myself in us, of no longer being Flora Ryan, of being simply referred to and thought of as your mistress.

I know this may sound silly, the senseless ranting of a confused woman, but this is how I feel. Just give me a little time to come to terms with these fears and feelings; everything happened so fast I feel as though the earth is still spinning. I just need time to bring it to a brief pause, I doubt I can bare to be away for a second longer than necessary.

Yours Forever,

Flora.

The next morning the senior servants were sitting enjoying a quiet breakfast. Mr Jarvis was once more morosely chasing his breakfast around his plate, his eyes glazed as he stared off into space thinking about how much he was missing Flora, her letter had done little to sooth is heartache. When suddenly they were interrupted by Mrs Stanwick and Gwen, apparently the two had bumped into each other yesterday and had become instantly fast friends. Great Jarvis thought just what I don't need this morning two giggling females. As if homing in on him in his distress the two women sat right next to him and attempted to draw him into their conversation.

"Good Morning Mr Jarvis." Said Cat cheerfully. "Gwen was just telling me about the upcoming summer games."

Jarvis managed to nod, raising an eyebrow rather than entering the conversation, damn that woman does she always have to be so outgoing even this early in the morning.

"Yes but this year its going to be somewhat different." Hinted Gwen with a sly smile.

This finally got Jarvis's attention, "What, I haven't heard anything?"

"That's because I've only just heard it myself from the Earl. This year instead of it just being a competition between Taplows staff the Earl is opening up the competition to the other households as well. So we may have competitors from the Scotland, Cumberland or even London, each household has the opportunity to enter an entire team if they so wish."

"But…But how are we going to cope with teams from all three houses descending on us? Surely we don't have the room." Stuttered Kraus.

"I don't know? I guess we'll just have to double up, it'll be cosy." Said Cat with a wink.

Jarvis ignored her, if they were sending a team from London, wouldn't Flora find a way to come along in a supervisory role, he should write to her about it she had obviously wanted to talk the other night, maybe she'd changed her mind and wanted to come home? Whatever the reason this suspense was killing him, so quickly he got up from the table ignoring Felix's protest over his uneaten breakfast and waving off Mrs Stanwick's offer to accompany him, he strode off to his office intent on writing immediately to Flora.

The lower servants are clearing up from breakfast, and they have been chatting about the summer games which are rapidly approaching. Will is boasting about his physique while Fred is talking up his chances of being racing champion for the third time in a row

Will demonstrating his muscles to an unamused Charlotte: I can arm wrestle any of the lads in this house, and more besides, so I've got no worries! It's going to be a right laugh, beating everyone – I'm going to compete in EVERYTHING.

Fred shaking his head and grinning: Oh, you'll never out-run me, mate, and anyway you run like a big girl.

Will begins to mock-wrestle Fred to the ground, roughing up their uniforms, while Charlotte tuts, rolls her eyes and walks off to change the Earl's bed. Enter Mrs Stanwick

Mrs S trying to look shocked, her voice shrill: Boys! Stop that!

Will letting go of Fred, who is lying flat on his back, panting and laughing: Sorry, Mrs Stanwick, we were just practicing for the games, y'know.

Mrs S blushing, hands on hips: Oh yes, of course, the famous games where you men get to dash about like children, all sweaty and breathless.

Will cocking his head: Ah, well, sometimes we're allowed to take our shirts off if we get too hot, and anyway we do whispering in flirtatious manner….water sports! Kinda helps us all cool off after we've physically exerted ourselves.

Mrs S wanting to giggle but regaining her composure: Well that all sounds very agreeable, Mr Forest, but for now I suggest you get on with your duties.

Will heading towards the door: Anything for you, Mrs Stanwick.

Mrs S lowering her voice and coming over to Will: Er, actually, one last thing…do all the men compete?

Will: Footmen and valets have a lot to offer, y'know, even Johnny does! D'you think he's mute or just shy?

Mrs S ignoring his question: No, I mean, like, Mr Kraus and Mr Jarvis?

Will with sly smile: Well, they're supposed to, but with a little persuasion we can usually get them to do something, even if Kraus just does cheese rolling. Although he can be quite partial to a bit of the old egg-and-spoon too.

He walks off briskly, whistling, leaving Mrs S looking very pleased. Yes she could only look but not touch where Jarvis is concerned – the lower servants had filled her in on THAT one – but she could at least hope to catch a glimpse of him without all of his formal layers on. Kraus is a different story. She knows he isn't interested in any other woman….but, she thinks to herself, that's just it. No woman at all, it seems. She concludes this needs further investigation, and more harmless flirting could hopefully get to the bottom of this. She knows she is pretty irresistible to men, but of course he IS foreign and they are slightly more gregarious on the continent. That is why she likes him so much.

She is snapped out of her thoughts by Adams approaching her. The thought of Jarvis and Kraus filled her mind, and Adams' ugly presence was a rude interference in her blissful minds eye. She quickly shakes off the image of the under-butler in his bare essentials

Mrs S trying to find hint of alcohol: What can I do for you, Mr Adams?

Adams as pleasant as possible: I hear the annual games are approaching and the Scottish household may be coming down. This will be my first time, so to speak.

Mrs S: Indeed, that is the word from the Earl, why do you ask? And will you be competing?

Adams: A former colleague of mine has just joined the household up there and I was hoping to see him. And aye, I hope to compete, Mrs Stanwick. I've been looking after my figure puffs out chest.

Mrs S, completely unimpressed, walks off leaving him a bit puzzled, although that was as civil as they had been since after her arrival. He decides to record the moment in his diary, and maybe have small tipple. It was after nine in the morning now, so it was getting late and he hadn't had a drink yet. His hand began to shake although it was unusually hot for even the summer. Best get to the whisky fast

Cut to Jarvis and the doctor. The doctor is tending Jarvis' bullet wound and it nattering away to him, but Jarvis seems completely uninterested in anything the doctor has to say.

Doctor changing the dressing: Looks like your shoulder will be as good as new in time for the games, so you should be able to compete. I am SO looking forward to it, and I am very grateful for the Earl's kind invitation every year, as you know.

Jarvis is silent, barely hearing a word. He glances over at the table where his half written letter is sitting. Would she come? Oh he hopes so. He could compete in the games and be her knight in shining armour, winning competition after competition in her name. If only jousting was still the fashion, he would ride up on his fine horse to thunderous applause and present her with her handkerchief, while his opponent lay outdone on the ground after taking a particularly deathly blow………

Doctor standing up and walking towards the door: Right-ho, you're all done now. I'll be off. One of the maids can change your dressings from now on. He beams You've been such great company, Mr Jarvis

J distantly: Thank you, doctor.

He doesn't really care that he may have offended him, he just wants him to leave so he can finish his letter. He realises with dread which servant would volunteer to change his bandages, but he was convinced only one woman was the right one for the job. Oh, he would take the letter to her himself if he could, through the wind and rain, thunder and hail, across the countryside and through the towns and villages… The door slamming causes him to jump out of his trance. His arm hurts and he feels as grumpy as ever as he storms out of his office to tend the Earl, whose drunkenness is angering him greatly. The pompous idiot can have whatever he wants and he doesn't realise how lucky he is, treating his servants like animals – like dogs! Fancy naming one's butler after a dog! Although he may set and example to the other servants by telling them that their service should always be exemplary, how he hates the Earl and all he stands for. This, and his letter on his mind, causes him to be in a worse mood than the day Flora left. Damn that woman!

Later that day the first meeting of the Taplows Association for the Recognition and Transformation of Suffrage was being held over tea, cake and sewing. The newly elected president, Grace, called the meeting to order whilst Charlotte acted as secretary and recorded this historic occasion in the minutes.

"Alright, everyone knows why were here and what we want?"

Susan who had been engrossed in perfecting and finishing a new handkerchief for Mr Adams looked up, "Er actually Grace, I'm just here because this is the only place safe from Will and his rampaging footmen."

"Shush," replied the others, and Charlotte added, "Grace do I have to put that in the minutes?" Grace gave her a withering look and once more began to speak.

"Ok most of us are here because we want to see a few things change around here. We may not be able to do much but we can at least try to change the common perception that we know nothing and that our opinions don't count…."

Grace was just getting worked up when in walked Mr Adams.

"My my what do we have here? A gathering of the old shrew society?" He said laughing at his own joke as he walked round the table and leant down until he was eye to eye with Grace.

"Miss May let me guess this was your idea? Thinking of swapping your jams and jellies for the glamour of political activism?" He asked an eyebrow raised in mockery as he reached for and ate one of Grace's scones. "You don't mind if I offer you a little piece of advice? Why you don't you try and get your present job right before launching into other areas where you'll be doomed to yet more failure?"

Grace's bottom lip started to tremble, her eyes tearing. "Now now," said Adams patronisingly, "It was only a piece of friendly advice no need to go and blubber about it."

Then leaning in he added in a whisper, "if you don't want to risk getting shot at you shouldn't stick your head over the parapet, why don't you leave the tough world decisions to those with the skills to handle them, hmmm?"

"And who would that be, exactly Mr Adams?" Shot Mrs Stanwick from the doorway. "Men? Most men I know wouldn't know the first thing about running a household so why should we believe they are capable of running the country?"

"Arhh well, you see…"

"No Mr Adams I don't see and I happen to believe what Miss May is suggesting is an admirable idea I only hope she will allow me to become a member!" She said walking over to Charlotte and signing her name as present in the minutes.

Adams knew he was caught between a rock and a hard place, well fine they can have there damn silly club its not like this thing would take off and amount to anything anyway and with that he turned and stormed out the room.

Mrs Stanwick walked over to Grace who was smirking at Mr Adams departure. "Grace I don't want you to think I'm interfering but may I make one tiny suggestion? Change the name of the group I don't think the abbreviation will do you any favours." And with that she swept out the room scattering servants in her way, intent on finding Mr Jarvis and talking to him about Andrew Adams.

Mrs Stanwick found Jarvis staring in confusion at his big book of figures in his office

Mrs S Entering without knocking, taking Jarvis by surprise: Is there a problem, Mr Jarvis?

J Looking up in annoyance, his concentration broken: Yes, you could say. My figures are all wrong. He flops down in his chair as if admitting defeat I'll have to recalculate the whole thing.

Mrs S: I'm not surprised you've made mistakes – it seems you've been through a lot over the past few weeks. She smiles warmly – a little too warmly – as she moves towards his desk Would you like a massage?

J forlornly, looking at his book and completely failing to register her come-on: Flora was very good at massages.
Mrs S' face falls as she tuts

Mrs S more sternly: I need to talk to you about Mr Adams, Mr Jarvis. He was just most rude to poor Grace about T.A.R.T.S.

J looking puzzled but intrigued: TARTS, Mrs Stanwick?

Mrs S sighing: No, T.A.R.T.S

J: That's what I said – TA……

Mrs S: No, no, no! You MUST pronounce each letter, otherwise it sounds…..

J: Cheap?

Mrs S: I've asked them to change it.

J his temper short: What IS T.A.R.T.S anyway, Mrs Stanwick? I've no time for silly games, as you can see!

Mrs S proceeds to explain, but Jarvis remains expressionless. When she is done there is a moment of silence

Mrs S: And Andrew……sorry, Mr Adams, is being totally unreasonable.

J looking like he couldn't be bothered with this hastle: He is entitled to his opinion, Mrs Stanwick. You will not easily convince many men round here that women should get the vote, especially girls of Grace's calibre. He stands, his mind still half on his figures. Mrs S could tell.

Mrs S: Does that include you, Mr Jarvis? Do you too believe that females can't understand the complex details of politics, or know what they want in their lives? Or do you agree that women can be just as stubborn and strong-willed as men?

J: Oh, I know full well that women can be as stubborn, hurtful creatures, Mrs Stanwick, but they can also be whimsical and thoughtless.
Mrs S realises she has touched a nerve. Must be over Flora Ryan, she thought.
J continuing: Society is not going to change overnight to accommodate such whims, Mrs Stanwick, so you should tell Grace and her T.A.R.T.S that they are probably on a hiding to nothing.

Mrs S: But Mr Adams…….

J losing his patience again: I'll have a word with him, tell him to tone it down with Grace, but as I said he is a man with firm views and should be respected for it.

Mrs S letting out a sharp sigh, moving towards the door: I note you said 'probably', Mr Jarvis. I think you could be turned to T.A.R.T.S' cause yet!
She turns on her heels and exits. Time for a bit of flirting with Felix, she thinks

Jarvis is left to recalculate his figures. Women were destined to be the bane of his life, he was convinced. He concludes it is time for a cigar to calm his nerves before he has to face that hyperactive woman again. Lighting up, he sits back and stares out of the window. Women and the vote – it seemed ludicrous. But when he thought about it, he wasn't really convincing himself as to the arguments against it. Maybe it should depend on personality – someone as ignorant as Adams shouldn't be let anywhere near a ballot box, while he'd give Flora the vote, as long as she knew what to do with it, of course. It would be no good if she was going to vote for the wrong man. He emphasised 'man' in his head – he may sympathise with the vote issue, but to have a woman in Parliament he agreed was a little far-fetched. The irrational creatures would cry every time they lost a debate, and their grasp of detail may fail. Bringing himself back, he remembered his own lack of attention to detail. Mrs Stanwick had been right about one thing – he was very stressed and it was beginning to affect his work. He stubs out his cigar, puts on his spectacles and bends over his book again, determined to correct his mistakes.

Cut to dinner in the upper servants' dining room. Cat had failed to woo Kraus earlier as he cooked pancakes for the lower servants. She is confused by the lack of interest from the male servants, apart from the awfully lovely William Forest

Mrs S brightly: Mr Kraus, these potatoes are lovely and fluffy, I'd love to know your secret.

Kraus: Lots of butter, Mrs Stanwick. He manages a half smile

Mrs Diggins dryly: So Mrs Stanwick, your husband died then? Did he leave you no money?
Jarvis, attempting to nibble on a potato, looks interested

Mrs S: Yes, Mrs Diggins, he did leave me money, but I'm not the sort of woman to sit round idly sewing and drinking tea.

Kraus stifles a smile and coughs a little. Jarvis could see what she meant – he could hardly envisage her playing the grieving widow. He cuts up his meat but only eats a few carrots. Kraus looks concerned

Kraus: Mr Jarvis, will you not eat? Is my food so bad? You should feel privileged that Felix Kraus is cooking for you!

J distantly: I'm sorry, Mr Kraus, I'm not very hungry. My arm still hurts.

Kraus: You will waste away, and then what will Mrs Ryan say!

Kraus, suddenly realising he has said too much, shifts around easily as the others busy themselves with pork. Jarvis frowns, sipping his wine. He had posted his letter earlier that day, but doubted it would get to Flora before the games. But Kraus was right – he had to eat or he'd be ill. Reluctantly he slowly chews his meal before retiring early to bed.

The next few days were ones of excitement tinged with mayhem for the Taplows staff. So far they had heard back from both the Scottish and Cumberland houses saying that they were indeed to attend, this pleased Mr Adams immensely as he learnt his old friend was to be among them. As a result of this good news even he and Mrs Stanwick had been able to come to an uneasy truce, a fact greatly aided by him telling her that the Scotsmen were to compete in kilts. Still everyday Jarvis looked in the mail for a letter from London, surely they at least had to reply to say whether they were coming or not, or was Flora so upset at him missing their last meeting that she was ignoring his correspondence altogether.

Jarvis's bad mood was greatly exacerbated by the constant attentions paid to him by their current housekeeper, the woman was unstoppable she knew the situation yet seemed determined to win him round through sheer determination and force of will. Yesterday he had almost been forced to raise his voice and be sharp with her, he didn't want her fussing over him or changing his bandage, she wasn't his mother and she certainly wasn't Flora, why couldn't she just take a hint. As a result he had been forced to claim he didn't need any assistance and so now had to try to bandage it himself, needless to say it was not a great success, fortunately it had now healed to the point where could write with his right hand again and so at least his handwriting was legible.

Glancing down at his big book of figures his fingers moved to caress his new bookmark, he had found it in his room yesterday. It was Flora's black velvet choker, she had been wearing it one night in his room and in the heat of things it had been carelessly discarded and he had only rediscovered it when he had been searching for his book down the side of the bed. Now it travelled everywhere with him and when he felt particularly lonesome for her he'd touch it and it somehow helped to make her feel just a little closer. Glancing at his watch he noticed it was almost noon and time for lunch, this meant another encounter with the inquisition. By this he meant the combined efforts of Felix and Mrs Stanwick to ensure he was eating properly, thankfully after this afternoon they'd be too busy as the first of their guests would be arriving. Taking a deep breath and placing the choker in his pocket he opened his office door and stepped confidently out.

Meanwhile on the outskirts of Bath the owner of the choker in question was settling down with her colleagues to the Midday meal, she also wasn't eating much but hers was due to nervousness. They had started out from London the previous day, spent the night in Reading and having got up early had reached Bath by lunchtime today. Everyone was excited, they were all still getting to know each other and were anxious to prove themselves both to their fellow servants and to their up till now absentee employer; these games were as Flora knew the chance for aspiring young service men to be noticed. She just hoped that her letter had got to Taplows in time; the postal service in this part of the world was terrible (believe me it still is!). Walter's letter had only arrived a few days ago giving her little to no time to organise both a team and the trip.

Sighing she once more laid down her fork, her lunch remaining untouched as she gazed off into space. What was she going to say to him, she knew now she was wrong to have left like she did it was abrupt and cruel, she was ashamed by her own cowardice. That didn't change the problems they faced at Taplows but instead of solving those problems together it had been easier to just jump ship, the problem with this was it caused more problems than it solved. According to Felix, in his most recent letter, Walter was depressed, hardly eating and not looking after himself; in addition they were both having to fend off the rather over amorous advances of this Mrs Stanwick. Flora scowled at the thought, how dare this woman come into her house, upset her friends and make advances to her Walter, her conduct was apparently quite scandalous even flirting with the footmen. Well she'd better behave herself while I'm at Taplows or I might have to set her straight on a few things, feeling better and resolved to this course action Flora picked up her fork and started to eat her now cold lunch.

The day of the inter-house challenge is drawing near and everyone is getting very excited about it. Will has begun his 'training' regime and Fred keeps doing laps of the estate. Between them, Will, Fred and George have decided they would like to compete in the multi-relay, but this was still yet to be worked out. A flurry of activity and many training meetings later, the afternoon had come round quickly and the first of the guests – from the Scottish house – had begun arriving. They clatter noisily into the courtyard and are greeted by Will and Fred, who are stood looking smug and cocky

Will aside to Fred: These look like a right bunch of nancy-boys. Putty in our hands!

Fred nods in agreement as Adams and Jarvis appears to join the welcome party. Jarvis busies himself by directing the new arrivals where to take their luggage as one of the footmen – a tall, well-built young fellow - introduces himself to Will, a huge grin on his face

Roger: Roger McDougal, first footman. Stretches out and takes Will firmly by the hand

Will in good humour: William Forest, also first footman. So you think you stand a chance against us, do you? In your fancy kilts?

Roger: We play to win, and play hard! Our own highland house games is enough training to build up these muscles!

Fred laughing: What, throwing sticks in the air? Don't make me laugh!

Roger with sly smile: You'll be sorry, you just wait! He then returns to help his fellow footmen and valets unload

Cut to Jarvis, who is talking to the new temporary butler from the Scottish house about their long journey down. He is a rather portly fellow, with such a broad Glaswegian accent that Jarvis could only catch every other word. He wonders how he ever passed an interview with the Earl, but concludes the Earl was probably drunk at the time anyway. The Scottish butler's face brightens when he sees Adams coming towards him

Adams beaming: Well, well, if it isn't old Jock McKee! shakes his hand and they pat each other's shoulders

McKee: Andrew, great to see you, man! It's been a good few months, hope you're settling down here in England!

Adams turning to Jarvis: We go way back, old friends. We were footmen together.

McKee: My, my you were a wee tyke back then!

Jarvis nods, feeling a bit out of it, then realises he should be doing a million and one other things so exits

McKee delving into a pocket and speaking quietly: Before I forget, this letter arrived for you. I think they may be catching up with you at last.

Adams' face falls as he quickly stuffs the letter away in his jacket. He knows exactly what the letter is as his heart begins to beat hard in his chest. Oh, good Lord no, he panics, please, not now

The Earl is growing more good natured every day, due to Gwen's good influence. He has decided on the spur of the moment to give a half day to all the servants, upper and lower, on the provision they leave the premises. Due to Mrs Stanwick's reluctance to allow the servants to go into the nearby town and her increasing desire to see Klaus shirtless (!), she proposed to have a warm-up for the summer games. As the ladies were, obviously, not allowed to compete, she proposed a picnic should be made, and they all go out into the country where the warm – up games would take place. This was announced to the servants at breakfast.

Mrs Stanwick : Hush please, such manners. As some of you may have been informed, the earl had decided to give you all a half – day this afternoon. I, with much subtle persuading, have managed to convince him to turn it into a full day.
(cheers are heard from all servants)

Will: Subtle persuasion, (snort), I wonder if Gwen is jealous?

Mrs Stanwick: However, looking at the manners of many of you, it has become painfully aware to me that your behaviour will disgrace the town if you are permitted to go out, and so I have decided to turn the holiday into a warm-up summer games. We shall leave after my girls have prepared out meal. Please will everybody else be waiting in the courtyard.

(Restrained groans are heard from all, nobody is happy at forfeiting a holiday, since they don't know when the next might come.)

Mrs Stanwick: (Loudly) Grace, I am afraid you are not permitted to come, information regarding your recent conduct has just been made known to me, as has the fact that as yet you have escaped any disciplinary action. Personally I am disgusted and it would disgrace our household further if you were spotted to be among the staff. I am very surprised you weren't disposed of, after your terrible conduct. You may all leave now, girls are to report immediately to the kitchens, where Mr Klaus will shortly arrive to give you your instructions.

She leaves the room, Grace is clearly horrified and looks to be on the verge of tears. George goes over to comfort her. Grace had been among the few staff who previously thought highly of the new housekeeper although many disliked her manner in comparison to Mrs Ryan.

George: Don't worry Grace, I will speak to Mr J. You know he dislikes the flirt, he will give me permission to stay behind. We could have a picnic of our own…...

Meanwhile Fred had been dispatched to town in order to pick up some last minute supplies for the picnic and fit in some more training was having a swift pint in the Cock and Bull inn. Technically he was supposed to have come straight back but he thought to himself this is where I'd prefer to spend my half day off, so I might as well take my time. He was leaning at the bar, chatting to Tom the publican when out of the window he saw a carriage pull up, one of the stable lads dashed out to water the horses and whilst he was doing this two young men jumped down and helped out a lady, whilst Fred was taking his final swig and he almost chocked to death in shock, it was Mrs Ryan. Wiping the split beer off his livery he wandered out to say hello.
"Mrs Ryan."

"Hello Fred, what are you doing in town?" She said 'town' but that glare accompanied by the raised eyebrow Fred knew she really meant was 'at the pub'.

Fred had the decency to look bashful, it was like being caught sneaking about by your mother, "I was errgghh, just running a last minute errand for Mr Jarvis. I must admit it is a surprise to see you here to we didn't think your lot were coming!"

Flora Ryan frowned, "Must be the post, it would probably have got here quicker if it came in the carriage with us."

"Well I'm just off back now, there's a picnic this afternoon the Earl's treat, I'll tell everyone to expect you and your staff."

"I hope it won't cause too much trouble?" Said Flora almost to herself.

"I doubt it the house is already bedlam so a doubt a few more visitors will make the blind bit of difference." Said Fred before he could stop himself earning another bemused look from Mrs Ryan, then with a shy smile he nodded farewell before turning and sprinting back to Taplows.

When he arrived he darted around the gathered servants in the courtyard, dumped his package in the kitchen and went to look for Mr Jarvis who was once more safely locked in his office in an attempt to escape Mrs Stanwick and her invitations to join her for a game of croquet at the picnic. Breathlessly Fred barged into the office without knocking and Jarvis was so surprised he failed to reprimand him.
"Mr Jarvis, Mrs Ryan…." He said pausing to take a huge breath.

At the mention of Flora, Jarvis had shot out of his chair a look of terror on his face, "What? Has something happened to her?"

"No nothing like that, I just saw her in town with the London household they'll be here within the hour… Letter must have gotten lost or delayed or something."

For the first time in days Mr Jarvis looked animated, more like his usual captain at the helm self. "Thank you Fred, I'll tell Mrs Stanwick though God knows where we're going to put them."

Then dismissing Fred with a simple wave he sat back down. Flora was going to be here within the hour! The house was a mess, hell forget the house he was a mess; striding over to his mirror he rubbed his hand over his chin, need to shave and a change of shirt wouldn't go amiss in this heat. Maybe he could persuade Flora to go for a walk with him at the picnic then they could have a nice long talk in private, that's if he could shake off that damn Stanwick woman. Chuckling to himself he thought, she is going to have a fit all these extra people descending on Taplows, not enough food and nowhere to accommodate them, it'll mean doubling up, if only he could persuade Flora to share with him, unofficially of course. Then smiling to himself he went off to tell an already stressed Mrs Stanwick the good news.

George had spent the morning trying to talk to Mr Jarvis about Grace not being allowed to the picnic, but somehow Mrs Stanwick kept finding errands to keep him occupied, then when he had a few spare minutes he had been unable to find the Butler. Despondent he went to join the other servants in the courtyard, he had only been standing there a minute when Mr Jarvis came stalking out of the side-door.
"Mr Jarvis, Mr Jarvis wait please I need to talk to you." George stuttered trying to keep up with the Butler's pace.

Jarvis glanced at him obviously distracted. "Mr Cosmo, isn't this something Mrs Stanwick or Mr Adams can deal with?"

"No sir, please it's about Grace!"

The tone of his voice finally seemed to have reached Jarvis, who turned his full attention to the footman for the first time, pausing for a moment to allow George to catch him up, before resuming his walk.

"Mrs Stanwick says Grace can't come to the picnic sir, that she's got stay here all alone, she won't even let me stay with her, please can't you make her change her mind?"

Jarvis sighed, "I'll do what I can Mr Cosmo", rubbing the bridge of his nose, the idea of asking Mrs Stanwick for any form of favour filled him with dread.

"Thank you sir," he said before adding slyly, "I mean after all the Earl did specify that no one was to be at Taplows!"

Jarvis smiled at the young footman, "You're quite right, Mrs Stanwick must have overlooked that piece of information. You may tell Miss May that she has my permission to attend the picnic."

Beaming George replied "Oh Thank you sir, you wont regret it I promise."

An hour later Mr Jarvis was washed, shaved, changed and very nervous. He kept pacing up and down in his office waiting for Johnny to come and tell him when he spotted the carriage. Suddenly the lad popped his head round the door but before he had a chance to open his mouth Jarvis was on his way out the door waving Johnny impatiently aside. He strode into the courtyard which was now full of people just as the carriage pulled up. Will dashed forward opening the door but before he could extend an arm to help Mrs Ryan out Mr Jarvis beat him to it. Flora took his hand her eyes locked firmly on his, and for what seemed like ages they just gazed happily at each other not moving, Jarvis fighting the urge to kiss her there in front of everyone. However the mood was rudely interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Stanwick, who pushed her way through the throng and harrumphed loudly, looking pointedly at Mrs Ryan. Flora ripped her gaze away from Walter but left her hand resting on his arm and turned to look at Mrs Stanwick. In that instant the battle lines were drawn up.

"You must be the famous Mrs Ryan?" She said giving Flora the once over, the slight souring of the mouth indicating that Mrs Ryan was just a little too good looking for her liking, if the there was one thing Catherine Stanwick didn't like it was competition.

"Yes", said Flora a slight smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, "and that would make you Mrs Stanwick?" Now she could see what Felix meant, not bad to look at but just a little too showy, how on earth was this woman ever a clergyman's wife?

"Well," said Mr Jarvis finally finding his voice, "are we all ready for the picnic?"

"Almost Mr Jarvis, we just need to have the latecomers bags taken to their rooms," she said emphasising the latecomers part, "I hope you don't mind but you'll have to share with people already here, if we'd had more warning…?"

Flora smiled back, it was a rather strained smile, now here was a woman who was really going to get on her nerves. "Don't worry, if you have any problems getting organised I'd only be too pleased to help you." Now that had the desired effect the Stanwick woman positively bristled at that remark.

"No I'm sure we'll find somewhere appropriate to house you." Cat countered, from her tone Flora guessed she wished she could stick them out in the stables.
Jarvis looked from one woman to another now here was a problem he hadn't anticipated, they were both being extremely polite but he could have sworn that the temperature had dropped about ten degrees from the frosty glances and phrases exchanged.

"I'll just…..Well I'm sure I need to.." Jarvis tried to think of any excuse to get away, pulling at his collar as a distraction.

"Oh don't worry about us Mr Jarvis you run along and Mrs Ryan and I will get better acquainted we should be ready to leave within ten minutes."

Taking his cue Jarvis strode back to his office casting one last wistful glance in Flora's direction.

The footmen were glad when they finally arrived at the picnic, as Mrs Stanwick, had forced them to run the whole way as a warm up exercise for the next day's competition. Only George had been clever enough to jump onto the small ledge at the back of the carriage before leaving, allowing him to ride to whole way making jokes about the footmen being dim… 'All Foam, No Beer', was one of his comments! On arrival Mrs Stanwick took over, she even told everybody where to sit.

Mrs Stanwick: The first event of the day, will be a simple run. I want you to run to that tree and back pointing to a tree in the far distance. The winner gets the pleasure of sharing my picnic with me! 3, 2, 1, go…

All the men set off at a not so fast pace, no one wanted to share the picnic with Mrs Stanwick, as it meant enduring her company, which even Will didn't seek out after her cruel jibe towards Grace. Mr Adams, hadn't seemed to realize this however. He just wanted food, as his ever gurgling stomach paid tribute to. It was soon obvious to all, that he was going to win the race. George, who wanted to simply spend some quality time with Grace, after coming round to the torment that Grace must have suffered knowing that she was pregnant, decided to fake a twisted ankle. Mrs Stanwick, knowing that Grace was a favourite of George, and wanting to punish her for coming to the picnic when she had previously forbid it, jumped up.

Mrs Stanwick: George, darling, come and share my picnic with me. Mr Adams will not mind going short for an injured footman, as he will want Taplows to win in the summer games, will he not.

George spluttering: But Mrs Stanwick, I am perfectly willing to sit with the other servants and enjoy the food we have been given, whilst Mr Adams will appreciate the upper class food to a greater degree than I.

Mrs Stanwick: Nonsense, anybody would think that you had faked your injury to be with Grace, and we all know that you aren't to be trusted in Grace's company. We must learn from our mistakes. Mr Adams will enjoy the picnic with Mr Jarvis, as the two senior men, and we will invite Mrs Ryan to share our food.

George: Well if you insist…

Mrs Stanwick : I do. You are a very lucky boy and you wouldn't do anything to harm yourself in my eyes, were I to be in your position…… MRS RYAN!" She called, just as Mrs Ryan had plucked up the nerve to approach Mr Jarvis in front of all the people.

Mrs Ryan: Damn that woman.

Mr Jarvis: She isn't as bad as she seems, You just have to get to know her

Mrs Ryan: Which you obviously seem to have done. I just don't understand how anyone could ever bare to be her around her, what with her constant eyelash fluttering and incessant flirting.

Mr Jarvis : God no Flora, its nothing like that, you know how I feel about you, about us, I've never so much as given her a second glance! I just have to make an effort to get on.

Mrs Ryan: Be that as it may, with her constantly interfering how are we ever going to get a moment alone?

Mr Jarvis: I've already thought of that, as soon as Fred informed me you were expected; I went and called in a favour from Felix. He has promised to cook us our own meal tonight, something special and we can dine by candle light in peace.

Mrs Ryan (sighs softly and favoured Walter with a flirtatious smile of her own): Dinner alone what a romantic idea!

Mrs Stanwick: Romantic, that isn't a word one would normally use to their superior (emphasizing the word superior), but then we all know Mr Jarvis has favourites (again emphasizing the word favourites, as she linked her arm threw Flora's and drew the reluctant Housekeeper away from the Butler). About your Grace, I was wondering… Didn't it puzzle you why Grace was allowed to stay on at Taplows Mrs Ryan? Perhaps your butler wanted to avoid scandal; perhaps Grace was actually pregnant with his child? (She trailed off suggestively; the words had the desired effect. Mrs Ryan looked horrified) Now come and join the picnic with George, Grace's other favourite, and myself. I took the liberty of preparing some of my special mustard especially for you. Grace told me how you like it.

Mrs Ryan : Grace…but the girl know how I detest the stuff.

Mrs Stanwwick : But you won't offend me by not trying it will you.

They all settle down to enjoy (or not to enjoy) the picnic. Grace, expecting to eat with George is all alone, Mr Adams is with Mr Jarvis, and of course the trio of George, Mrs Stanwick and Mrs Ryan

Adams sits for a while with Jarvis at the picnic, but after only a small amount of food he feels his stomach begin to turn at the thought of the letter. He has to get away from everyone, and he can feel the sweat on his forehead and the desperation of a drink is getting out of control. Jumping up and fumbling some excuse, he rushes away from the picnic back towards to the house as Mrs S calls after him in mock concern

Mrs S: Oh you poor dear – too much physical exertion, and you told me you had been working out, Mr Adams!

He ignores her, not looking back, as his breathing quickens. He stumbles into the house as he loosens his collar for fear of a panic attack. He runs awkwardly to his room, barging through the door and slamming it behind him so hard the windows rattle. Adams' hands shaking violently, he throws open his drawer and clumsily pulls out one of the Earl's whisky bottles and drains the remaining liquor from it. Barely wiping his mouth, he fumbles in his pocket and brings out the letter, reading it in desperation for the fifth time that day. The words haven't changed, as much as he wants them to have. He sinks into his chair, head in his hands in despair. The letter reads:

Dear Mr Adams,

We regret to inform you that you still owe an outstanding balance of £100. If you do not pay this amount in full within two weeks of receiving this letter we will have no choice but to pass the matter to the relevant authorities to take action where appropriate. I am sure you agree that this unnecessary situation could be avoided with your full co-operation and I trust we will be hearing from you soon.

Yours sincerely,
Mr Ebeneezer McScrooge Scottish Moneylenders Inc

Adams throws down the letter. Damn that gambling addiction. What to do…..He can't hide himself away, everyone expects him to compete in the games, so compete he must, or they'll get suspicious, and one thing he doesn't need is Jarvis on his back. Heaving himself out of his chair, he wanders back towards the merriment outside in a daze, an alcoholic haze overcoming and numbing his brain. He can't bear the thought of debtor's prison, but nor does he have anything like £100 to pay off the debt. Without free accommodation at Taplows he would be on the streets, probably where he belongs, he concludes. Hating himself and everyone around him, he rejoins the picnic. For the first time in Andrew Adams' life, he has no plan A, let alone a plan B. Life seems pointless and without hope. His depression was complete.

Later on that day the Cumberland party brought out wickets and stumps and began to mark out a cricket pitch. The plan was for a small tournament, fifteen overs an innings each team playing at least once with the winner of each match going forward to the next round. Mr Jarvis fed up with Mr Adams company and unable to approach Flora for fear of having to talk to Mrs Stanwick volunteered to be team captain for Taplows. Naturally all the footmen wanted in and Jarvis had to break up a potential fight between Joseph and Will over who was going to be first batsman. Surprisingly Mr Adams volunteered to be wicketkeeper, and Mr Jarvis resolved to give each of his bowlers a talking to before their turns at the crease, the last thing he needed was them losing the match because everyone preferred to lob a cricket ball at Mr Adams than the stumps.

On the sidelines the ladies gathered together to watch the men play. Flora who had for the moment escaped the clutches of the Stanwick viper, who had gone over to the Scottish footmen to offer to look after their jackets whilst they played. So Flora wandered over to sit by Grace and Lizzie who were sheltering under a fine oak, keeping out of the harsh midday sun.

"So girls what has been happening in my absence? I hope you haven't had too many problems with my replacement?" She said a ghost of a smile playing about her lips and her eyes twinkling wickedly.

Grace and Lizzie looked around as if expecting the harridan in question to jump out on them as soon as the spoke. "Well," said Grace cautiously leaning in so her voice wouldn't carry, "at first we thought she was alright, a bit of a flirt but she was alright to us?"

"Yes," Lizzie butted in, "She stuck up for us over T.A.R.T.S." Flora blinked in surprise but decided not to distract the pair by interrupting.

"Humph, bet she only did because it meant she had a reason to have a go at Mr Adams." Grace added morosely. "But over the last few days she just been well, snapping at everyone."

"Yeah all accept the men, well the ones she fancies anyway." Lizzie added.

Flora looked down picking at the grass hesitating before asking, "Its just I was wondering, well how she'd been fitting in? How she's been getting on with … people, the staff especially the senior staff?"

Grace glanced at Lizzie, was she asking what they thought she was asking?

"Oh alright I suppose, personally I believe they think she's a bit of a nuisance, she's constantly flirting and chasing after poor Mr Kraus and Mr Jarvis, even though they've made it obvious they're not interested."

Flora looked up, a look of disbelief on her face, "She's chasing after Felix?"
Grace and Lizzie both shared a smile and started to giggle, soon Flora couldn't contain herself and all three-collapsed back onto the grass wracked with laughter.

"I'm glad to see some people are enjoying themselves?" Stated Chef interrupting the threesome. They all turned to look at him then caught each other's eyes before collapsing once more into hysterics. Chef just looked at them in bemusement then spotting Mrs Stanwick approaching he made a quick escape. She sashayed over to them and fanning herself she sat down carefully on the ground, arranging her silk skirts with precision.

"It been a good game so far, don't you think Mrs Ryan?" She said pointing to the pitch with her fan

Flora turned to watch the match the Taplow's eleven were in the field, and Joseph was coming up to bowl, his ball travelled three quarters of the way down the wicket before bouncing and then curving back in to take the middle stump clean out.
"That was his second wicket off of two overs, those poor Scotsmen don't seem to able to get their eye in, I wonder if your poor boys can do any better?"

"Ah but that's the beauty of it Mrs Stanwick," said Flora smirking, "I get to support two teams, both Taplows and London as both are my boys. After all I'll only be in London for a few more weeks perhaps as little as a fortnight and then I'll be back here at Taplows."

"Really Mrs Ryan?" Said Grace eagerly, earning a sharp look from Mrs Stanwick.

Undaunted Lizzie ventured, "Oh won't that be lovely we have all missed you, the place hasn't been the same, has it Grace?" She said risking a glance at Mrs Stanwick whose face was getting redder and redder but that had little to do with the heat although she had started to fan herself more vigorously.

The match ended, Taplows had won thanks largely to Joseph's bowling and the surprisingly successful opening batting partnership of William Forest and the team captain Mr Jarvis, between them they had knocked up a combined score of seventy-five before William was given out for LBW, even so their impressive scoring meant that Taplows was easily through to the final.
As the rest of the team walked off the pitch heading for the refreshments, an ecstatic Mr Jarvis went and practically collapsed next to Flora, who had been abandoned as her companions had drifted off to congratulate the victors. Lying on the grass he smiled up at her, pulling out his handkerchief he moped at his sweaty brow not noticing that her choker had fallen out of his pocket at the same time. Flora did notice it however and smiling she picked it up twirling it teasingly through her fingers.

"Walter I would never I thought this would suit you?"

If it was possible Mr Jarvis turned a deeper shade of red, "I was going to give it back."

"Hmmm?"

"I was! Look give it here."

Intrigued Flora handed it back to him and he stood up, moving closer to her he bent over and fastened it around her throat, but his hands lingered, fingertips tracing the outline of her collar bone. Flora's breath caught in her throat and she leant back against him, closing her eyes she surrendered herself to the sensations his touch invoked. It was only when she felt his lips against her neck she remembered where they were and snapped out of it pulling away from him and falling back onto the grass. Her breath ragged and her chest heaving she fought for self-control, finally risking a glance up at Walter who was gazing down at her with unadulterated lust.

"Walter will you behave, can't you control yourself for more than five minutes when we're alone?" She said a little more harshly than she had intended to, and seeing the hurt look on his face she wished she could take it back.

"Maybe if I had the opportunity of being around you more often I would have developed the ability to do so, its not my fault you disappeared off to London."

Flora got up shaking both her head and the grass from her skirt she turned to leave.

"Now here's a surprise she's running away again." Jarvis said bitterly as she walked away.

At this Flora stopped and to his surprise walked back over to him, "I'm not running away, this is just a strategic withdrawal, I have no desire to make a spectacle of myself in front of the Earl's entire employ. A fact you seemed oblivious of when you pulled that little stunt, next time you want to kiss me I'd prefer fewer spectators." Then she turned and walked sedately other to the others who were by now deeply engrossed in demolishing the contents of the tea table.

The evening is drawing in and a slight chill is breezing in, and its time for everyone to get back inside to knuckle down to some jobs before the evening meal. Slowly the servants drag themselves back in, already too used to lazing around in the garden.

Grace to Susan: It's not fair, this is all the gentry do you know, sit around having tea parties, drinking and sunning themselves.

Susan: Well I could certainly get used to being posh then, I'm good at doing nothing.

Will has other ideas about how to take up his time, and it isn't going to be spent making small talk with the Scottish lot. He pulls up George and whispers:

Will: Hey George, now's the perfect time to get Kraus – and I know exactly what to do!

George looking unimpressed: Will, just leave it, will you mate? You know the situation I'm in!

Will: Don't worry your little head, I can do it on my own. Catching a mouse is incredibly easy round here.

George sighing but curious: A mouse? What's that for?

Will looking sneaky, a twinkle in his eye: I overhead our Felix muttering something to himself about a special meal, and you know how the Earl likes those. He's probably eating with Gwen tonight AGAIN, so I thought they may like a little surprise in their fillet steak or whatever delights he's cooking up for them.

George in horror: Will, you're mad – you could get Kraus sacked!

Will dismissively: Nah, he thinks Kraus is marvellous – sun shining out of him and all that. He'll let it go.

Will briskly walks off, whistling and shouting some suggestive remark to Charlotte and making her blush crimson with embarrassment

George shouting after him: I'm not in the business of saving your rear, y'know, mate!

Will swinging round the banister and jumping onto a step: Don't worry, Georgie, it'll be a laugh! Adams will be for it now!

It is now later that evening. Adams has retired to his room again complaining of stomach pains from too much cricket, while Mrs Stanwick can't bear the thought of having to eat an evening meal in the company of Jarvis and Mrs Ryan fawning all over each other and making her want to vomit, so she decides to keep her favourite chef company by sitting in the kitchen and eating a sandwich as he quickly prepares the Earl's food. Unbeknown to Will, it is whisked away by Lizzie after preparation, as the Earl is in a slight hurry as he wants to go for an evening ride with Gwen before it is pitch black. Kraus sighs, flicking his hair, and looking over at Mrs S who is sat at the table and cheerily chewing while swinging her legs

Kraus forcing a slight smile: Mrs Stanwick, are you sure you don't want to eat with the Scottish household? They are most delightful people.

Cat screwing up her face: They're fine I suppose, especially that Roger McDougal who's a sweetie, but I thought you looked like you needed some company here as you sweated over a hot oven.

Kraus feeling awkward: Thank you Mrs Stanwick, but I'm fine, honestly.

Cut to Flora's room, where she is getting ready, she knows that Walter has seen her in every state imaginable but that doesn't mean that she can't try to look her best, halfway through applying a touch of rouge she stops. What was she really doing? She had left and now she was back, as if Taplows is always finding away to drag her back no matter what she does. But she knows she wants to be there because of Walter; to be near him and share her life with him. Realising the time, she calculates she has fifteen minutes to finish dressing and she hadn't even started to tie up her hair

Cut back to kitchen. Kraus is clattering loudly, glaring over at Mrs S every few minutes, willing her to leave. She continues to chatter about everything and nothing, making him prickle with frustration at being disturbed.

Kraus through gritted teeth: I am sorry, Mrs Stanwick, but Felix Kraus isn't used to company while he's cooking. It makes him burn the gravy!

Cat looking most put out, jumping up and storming towards the door: Fine then, I'll go if I'm so offensive to be around. What is it with the men in this house!

Kraus' shoulders droop and shaking his head runs after her, calling to her apologetic tones. Will, who is crouching behind the door, sees his chance, and dashes into the kitchen, a dead rodent between his fingers. He sniggers, and checking the coast is clear, places the mouse under a leaf in the already prepared salad bowl. This was a meal the Earl was never going to forget!

Ten minutes later, Jarvis arrives at the secret meeting place. He had been there half an hour before to set up the table beautifully with candles and flowers (all Flora's favourites), and he had naughtily 'borrowed' some of the Earl's finest family silver cutlery for the occasion. He was now wearing his finest waistcoat and dinner jacket, and he was feeling nervous all over again, as if they were meeting for the first time. He paces up and down, staring into the candle flames, as his mind races. He looks at his pocket watch. She's now two minutes late – where is she! There is a light tap on the door and Flora appears, looking radiant. He smiles at her beauty, walking towards her and scooping her up. They kiss passionately for a moment, lost in each other.

J nuzzling her cheek: Can't we just skip dinner?

Mrs R pushing him away playfully: Certainly not, I'm starving, and Kraus is cooking beef and you know how tender he gets it.

They sit as Mrs R admires the table, when Kraus appears, grinning, his finest meal yet on a silver tray

J beaming: Felix, how marvellous this all looks! You are too good to us.

Kraus looking sheepish: Oh I know, I know. I do try.

Kraus places the food down, pours the wine, winks at Jarvis and exits, leaving them alone again. The salad is placed next to Mrs R

Mrs R serving the carrots: Walter, I'm so sorry about what's happened lately. I shouldn't have run off like that, I feel such a coward.

She places down the bowl, reaching out for the salad

J picking up his wine glass: I'm sorry too – I put too much pressure on you too soon. But it's only because I love……….

Mrs R lets out a high-pitched squeal, dropping the salad bowl to the ground and jumping back out of her chair

J standing up, startled by her reaction: What? What's wrong now?

Mrs R stammering and pointing: It's a m… a m… a mouse! In the bowl! All brown and hairy!

She jumps swiftly onto her chair, hiking up her millions of skirts. Jarvis, feeling he had to be completely in control of this ludicrous situation, bends down and carefully lifts the salad leaves out of the way. Cursing, he lifts up a semi-squashed rodent by the tail, dangling it in mid-air

Mrs R still panicking and hysterical: Don't just stand there with it – get rid of it!

J shaking his head: It's dead, Flora, it can't do you any harm. Looks like it was killed in a mouse trap rather than by a cat.

Mrs R: I don't care, Walter, it's horrible! Who would do something like this?

Jarvis' face clouds over as realisation kicks in

J storming towards the door: I think I know exactly who's responsible!

He marches out back into the house, the mouse still firmly in his grip. That Andrew Adams had gone too far this time – he had warned him not to cause more mischief. It's as if the under-butler has a death-wish.

J calling in booming voice as he approaches Adams' room: Mr Adams! Can I see you now please, if you're not busy vomiting, which I doubt you are!

Back at the table, Flora slumps into her chair. It was all ruined. Again. Why did everything have to turn into a total drama every time they try to be together? She needed to talk to him, and she is damned if a dead mouse is going to stop her. Building up her resolve, she stands up, stuffs in a mouthful of beef, drains her full glass of wine and purposely strides after Walter

Jarvis flung Adams's door open as the under-butler had seen fit to ignore his summons. Striding into the room he saw Adams lying facedown slumped over his desk drooling, an empty whiskey bottle lying in front of him. Dammit Jarvis thought to himself not again, Mr Adams's drinking habit was starting to get more and more out of control. Roughly Jarvis dragged the man into a sitting position, and then filling a glass of water from a ceramic pitcher he threw it in Adams's face. It took only an instant for Andrew to regain consciousness, opening one eye he saw a large shape looming over him but in an attempt to back away from it he lean to far back on his chair and over he went.

Jarvis furious that his carefully laid dinner plans had been ruined had little sympathy for the state Adams was in and stood glowering at him.

"Mr Jarvis?"

"Oh it can speak?" Retorted Jarvis angrily, and then taking a step nearer to Adams he dangled the dead mouse inches away from the Scotsman face. "This I believe is yours, managed to misplace it somewhere in the kitchen did you."

At first Adams was unable to focus of the object swinging dangerously close to his nose, the alcohol clouded his vision, then when he realised it was a mouse he scrambled to get away; this time banging his head on the iron leg of his bed. "What that's nothing to do with me?" He said frowning and rubbing his sore head.

"And I'm supposed to take your word on that am I?" Countered Jarvis's contempt for Adams is clear in his voice. "I warned you what would happen if you tried to retaliate for the chickens, you'll cook your own meals for the next month and buy the supplies yourself. That's if you have enough money left for food, considering the amount you must spend on liquor!" And with that Jarvis dumped the dead mouse into Mr Adams whiskey glass and headed back to try and find Flora.

Flora had so far tried both the Mr Jarvis's office, and the lower servants hall but to no avail he was no where to be found. Well she thought he's got to go back to his room eventually, I'll just check there and if he's not there I'll wait for him. Knocking softly on the door she waited for a response she was just about to turn the handle and enter when Mrs Stanwick appeared round the corner. She walked over to Mrs Ryan a box of bandages in her hands.

"My my Mr Jarvis is popular this evening."

Flora embarrassed at being caught out especially by this woman blushed slightly, but quickly recovered her curiosity getting the better of her, "Really why do you want to see him?"

"Oh," Mrs Stanwick replied coyly twirling a loose curl between her fingers, "I was coming to re-bandage his shoulder the poor dear still can't do it for himself, did you know when I first came here he couldn't even dress himself without help! Well it is the least I can do, after all what's a little give and take between friends?" She said smiling knowingly.

Flora smile tightened to almost to breaking point, "Indeed. Well if you'll excuse me he's obviously not in and it's nothing that can't wait till tomorrow." She said intending to return at once to her room.

But before she could Mrs Stanwick laid her neatly manicured hand on Flora's arm and spoke her voice dripping with malice, "I wish I had your strength dear, personally I'd wait all night for him to come to bed."

Flora locked gazes with Cat, the two women sized each other up, Flora found herself fighting the urge to wipe that smug self satisfied smirk off of Mrs Stanwick's face, settling instead for a verbal retort, "Maybe you would, needs must and all that, but I guess I'm lucky never having to!" That one hit home as Flora enjoyed the souring twist of Cat's smile before sweeping past her and off to her room.