Normally he would knock on the door even if it was open but this morning he was a bit flustered and so he barged right into Mrs. Hughes' office. Taking two strides from the doorway he stopped in front of the desk that seemed to dominate the small office. "I can't believe the cheek of that man."

Mrs. Hughes looked up from her paperwork to the large man whose bulk hovering at the edge of her desk seemed to dwarf her. She gestured for him to take a seat. "I presume this is about Mr. Branson."

"He asked me for time off while the family is in London." His tone did not hide his disgust. "As if those of you left here will be on holiday because the family is away."

Without waiting for her response Carson continued "I told him maybe for a day or two but he wanted two or three weeks. Two or three weeks!" Carson's face was actually becoming red.

She stared in disbelief at the man sitting across the desk from her, not quite understanding why this request would cause such a reaction; however, his next comments conveyed why he was angry.

"Do you know what he had the audacity to do?" Again not waiting for her to comment he continued "He went straight to his lordship."

Ah! So that is what has him so riled she thought.

"And what did his lordship say?" she asked.

"That's not the point Mrs. Hughes. Branson had no right to go to him."

"Well … I" Mrs. Hughes seemed flustered at coming up with a response that wouldn't anger the butler.

"Yes" Carson glared at her.

She licked her lip nervously and then sighed. "What is it you expect the lad to do while the family is away?"

"Well … well ..." Carson gave a grunt or two. "He might be able to help you."

"But that's just it Mr. Carson, he is the chauffeur not a footman nor even for that matter is he really part of the house staff."

"So you're taking up for him?"

She slightly shook her head. "I'm trying to look at this objectively. There'll be no family to drive and he keeps the motor cars in perfect condition so why not let him go home? He is a long way from home and unlike most of us here he has a family to go to."


It was a rare thing to hear in the courtyard outside the servants' entrance but above the squeals of delight and the good-natured boos was the roar of laughter. Mrs. Hughes, sitting on a stiff wooden chair brought outside just for her, couldn't help but smile as she looked at the beaming faces of the housemaids and houseboys and even the lowly kitchen staff.

"Who would have thought a game of bowling would bring such fun?" Mrs. Patmore, her more usual scowls or pouts replaced with wide grins, asked.

There really was no reason for Mrs. Hughes to reply but she nodded as she thought of how fresh air and sunshine and a little bit of fun was good for the soul. Looking at the smiling faces of the young staff, a few barely into their teens but none more than twenty, she thought of how little fun they had in their normal day to day lives. The life of a servant, especially those on the lower end, was one of drudgery.

Mrs. Patmore turned her attention to the chauffeur who was sitting on top of the waist high brick wall that formed one border of the courtyard. "He is a cheeky one isn't he. Who else would have thought how to improvise old milk cans into a bowling game?"

While many of the servants might have thought that with the family away their work load would be easier Mrs. Hughes took this time to have the household staff do those deep cleaning chores that were too cumbersome to do with the family around. The idea of giving the servants an hour off in the afternoons had been her idea of offering a bit of a reward for their hard work. After seeing a few of the lads and lasses sitting around idly in the courtyard Branson came up with the idea of a game of bowling.

"And why are the two of you sitting here idly?" Mrs. Hughes looked up at the chauffeur now standing beside her. "Maybe it's time for a game of the kitchen staff vs. the housemaids."

"Are you suggesting we play?" Mrs. Patmore coyly asked.

"Not only am I suggesting you play but that you two be the captains of your teams." He gave them the lopsided grin that had caused many a lass back home to swoon. "From lifting all the heavy pots and pans you got the arms of a slugger Mrs. Patmore and you" he looked at Mrs. Hughes "are tenacious."

"Are you implying brawn vs brains?"

"I do believe that is a challenge Mr. Branson."


"It's been a nice break" Mrs. Patmore said as she set her tea cup down on the small table in Mrs. Hughes' sitting room. "I've come to look forward to putting my feet up and getting a bit of a rest in the afternoon."

"I'll agree it has been nice" Mrs. Hughes smiled at the one person other than Mr. Carson that she considered a friend here at the abbey although that friendship with Carson had hit a rather rocky patch with that business about Branson. "While we haven't been idle, in fact I'd say we've accomplished quite a bit but with the family away we can do things at a more leisurely pace."

"I've thought about a few new-" Mrs. Patmore stopped talking at the sounds of footsteps in the hallway. "I thought everyone had gone up to their rooms."

"I …" Mrs. Hughes furrowed brow showed her concern as the footsteps grew louder as they came nearer until the footsteps stopped at the doorway and the shadow of a man fell across the room.

Looking towards the doorway Mrs. Hughes, her shoulders relaxing and a slight smile crossing her face as she realized the man standing in the doorway dressed in a rumpled brown suit was the chauffeur. "Oh Mr. Branson."

The young man nodded and smiled. "Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. Patmore" he said in acknowledgement. "I just wanted to let Mr. Carson know I'm back."

"He's still in London with the family" she replied. "He'll be back early Wednesday morning." Then smiling she added "so you have time to rest up from your trip and to see that the motor cars are ready to bring the family home from the railway station."

Noticing him eying the plate of slices of pound cake she asked "I know you've had a long journey would you like a cup of tea and some cake?"

"That would-"

"I think I can do better than that Mrs. Hughes" Mrs. Patmore said as she rose from her chair. "It would be a bit of this and that but I have the makings for a cold supper."

"This looks grand Mrs. Patmore" Tom said as he eyed the platter of salmon, sliced potato, olives, marinated cucumber slices, a boiled egg and wedges of two different cheeses.

The often surly cook smiled as she placed a hunk of bread and another plate of slices of pound cake on the table. As Mrs. Hughes watched she secretly smiled thinking that while Branson had affronted Carson he had certainly charmed Mrs. Patmore.

"I wasn't expecting such a feast." It had been hours since he had eaten the ham and cheese sandwiches and two hard-boiled eggs his mother had made for his journey and he didn't realize how hungry he was until he saw the food before him.

He looked up at Mrs. Patmore. "My ma made that sponge cake you gave me the recipe for and everyone loved it although" he smiled at the cook "I must say while it was delicious I like the cream you serve with it better than the jam we had."

His words caused her to blush, something so unexpected that Mrs. Hughes chuckled. "Full of blarney are ya lad" Mrs. Patmore replied although by the look on her face she was quite pleased. "I think there's some lads that would like to show you their bowling skills."

"So they've continued to play while I was away?"

"Most days although they've branched out into a few other ball games."

"Well I got a long day tomorrow so I'll say welcome back Mr. Branson." Then nodding at the two seated at the table she mumbled her goodnights leaving Tom and Mrs. Hughes alone in the servants hall.

"How was your visit?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"It was wonderful to see my family." Tom answered before setting his fork down. His eyes misted as he stared unseeingly across the room. It was a minute or so before he talked again. "It's only been little more than a year but-" he looked at Mrs. Hughes. "My youngest brother and sister seemed to have just sprouted up and my sister Maud…" he chuckled "I still see her as this gangly kid always following me around and pestering me is now a real beauty who's fending off the local boys. She's using the money I've sent home to take a secretarial course learning typing and stenography and is determined to get a good job."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. "My cousin took this of us" he said as he pointed out his mother and siblings. "And that little fella is my nephew." He looked up at Mrs. Hughes and smiled "almost six months old, son of my oldest sister."

"A fine looking family. Your younger brother is the spitting image of you."

"It's hard to miss so much" he shook his head "their daily lives."

Mrs. Hughes reached out her hand and patted his arm. "I know it is lad. And I'm sure they miss you just as much."


"Has Gwen finished with those carpets?"

"She's out in the courtyard working on the last two I think Mrs. Hughes" came the reply from one of the housemaids. "Should I go out and help her?"

"No, I'll see if she needs help."

Mrs. Hughes stood in the open doorway looking across the courtyard to where Gwen was cleaning the two carpets. To her surprise Branson was standing there too and the two seemed deep in conversation. She took a step out intending to see if the young man was interrupting Gwen's work but as she looked at the two she stopped.

When Branson had arrived here she had worried about the young handsome Irish man and the young impressionable housemaids. That was the sort of thing that could cause quite a bit of trouble but to her relief he had shown no untoward interest in them. But that relief was rather short-lived as she came to suspect his interest in the youngest daughter of the house.

She sighed. Branson was a personable young man and he himself had told her that some of the family talked to him when he was driving them around. Maybe she was reading something into it when there was really nothing there. And then there was that trouble Lady Sybil got him into when drove her to that rally. That had almost cost him his job and he had seemed rather chasten by that. But still … she looked at the housemaid and the chauffeur. They seemed relaxed and were chatting away. Gwen was bright and sensible and the pair would be a good match.

She turned away. The carpets were being cleaned and if a match was happening … well she wouldn't stand in the way of that.

If only she had been able to hear their conversation she might have come to a different conclusion

"Here let me help you" Tom picked up the rug and laid it over the low brick wall as Gwen had done with the other one.

"Should I look for another brush?" a sassy Gwen asked.

"My laboring skills only apply to motor cars not carpets" a laughing Tom replied.

"I think you'll find there's not much skill in beating a carpet."

"So how is the typing coming?"

Gwen's hand held the brush in midair and looked at Tom. "And just how did you know about my typing?"

Tom chuckled. "There's very little that's secret around here."

Gwen sighed before whacking the carpet with the brush.

"I think it's wonderful you're trying to better yourself" he replied. "My sister's learning typing in a secretarial class so my hat's off to you trying to do it on your own."

"So no word on how the season has gone?" Tom anxiously asked Gwen.

Gwen shook her head. Once again she stopped her work and looked at Tom. "I know Lady Sybil was looking forward to seeing old friends and dancing but I think …" she paused as she looked down at the brush. "Well you know how independent she is."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Gwen looked up from her work, her eyes sparkling. "There's very little that's secret around here." She laughed "That is if one is observant."


"Mr. Branson!"

Most servants if caught in a place where they shouldn't be would have maybe blushed, looked sheepish, and quickly left. But then Tom Branson wasn't like the other servants of Downton Abbey.

"Mrs. Hughes" he responded as he looked from the shelves of books to the housekeeper. "How many books do you think are in here?"

"I hardly think that is my concern" she replied as she walked across the room.

"There's so much knowledge in here" he said nodded toward the wall of books. "Reading opens your mind, lets you explore new worlds, worlds unavailable to you."

She thought his only interests were politics so she was rather surprised to hear him talk like this. She picked up the book he had set on the table. Alice in Wonderland. Now that was surprising.

He noticed her surprise and chuckled. "New worlds Mrs. Hughes."

"Mr. Carson usually hovers over me or gives me five minutes to make my selection" he looked at her and smiled. "My last chance to take my time, read a few passages maybe, before I choose."

"Yes I expect many of us will be doing some adjusting tomorrow."

He looked around the room, not just at the sheer volume of books, but at the rich Oriental carpet, the plush sofas, the oversized windows that looked out onto a lawn now bright green with summer grass. "I don't envy much but I do envy his lordship having this room. No matter how hard I work I'll never be able to afford a room like this" he gestured with his right hand stretched out.

"Well rather than think of what you don't have think about you do have access to all these books."

Tom chuckled. "Always the optimist Mrs. Hughes?"

She smiled back at him. "Maybe more like realist Mr. Branson."

She looked around the room. "Well as much as I envy you having the time to read a book I have work to get back to."

"See there's where you went wrong Mrs. Hughes. You should have learned to drive a motor car and become a chauffeur."

"And wherever would I have learned to drive?" she good naturedly responded.

"It's not too late to change careers. I could teach you to drive." He grinned.

"Now who's the optimist?"