A/N: Thank you so much, Reader and Guest, for your reviews and support. As for John and Anna Bates, all I can say is wait and see! ;D
***chapter 30***
The morning after Lottie took Master George to his grandmother, she washed in the wash-stand on the bedside cabinet although the water was cold, using what was left in the jug to rinse her teeth after cleaning them with a little salt (this was an age when toothbrushes were not yet in general use and especially not by the working classes), brushed her hair and tied it up in a neat bun, and, despite Lady Grantham saying she need not work today, she must be very tired after everything that had happened, she donned her plain black cotton dress, tied her white apron around her waist and put on her white cap.
And then, not knowing what else to do, she sat on her small bed, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, tapped her foot nervously, picked up one of the books Lady Grantham had presented to her and opened it. Then closed it again. All of this she did several times.
She looked around her new room and sighed. There was no denying it was very nice. There was a lovely view of the grounds and it was much warmer than the room that looked out on to a brick wall and drainpipe, and which she'd shared with Lily and Harriet. But she wasn't sure she liked having a room all to herself. Which was very strange because she often yearned to be alone, especially when Lily and Harriet grew impatient with her lack of conversation. It wasn't that Lottie had nothing to say. She had lots – she had Lotties to say if only she wasn't so shy and hated drawing attention to herself by talking, Mr Barrow teased her once, making her smile. She smiled now as she thought of the tall, dark-haired under-butler.
She didn't mind Mr Barrow's teasing. It was always done kindly, unlike when Lily and Harriet teased. Sometimes they were quite mean and that made her stutter and mix up her words, which made them laugh and made Lottie all the more nervous. But she wished she had someone to talk to now.
She didn't know who. Not Lily or Harriet. Not Miss Baxter because she was already very upset about something. Not Lord or Lady Grantham, even if she ever dared speak to them. Something awful had happened - Lottie didn't know what, but it was obviously serious because His Lordship was very grave when he spoke quietly with Her Ladyship – but she was only too glad when Lady Grantham said she ought to go down to eat now.
And when she went to the kitchens to serve the servants' mid-morning meal before sitting down to her own, Lottie knew Miss Baxter was very unhappy although nobody else realised - except for Mr Molesley, who noticed everything to do with Miss Baxter. But he was very busy with butler duties because Mr Barrow seemed to have disappeared, and, nice though Mr Molesley was, she couldn't talk to him either. If only she had the courage to ask Miss Baxter if she could do anything to help, especially when she gave her a warm smile and patted her hand reassuringly when the other servants began asking questions about Master George, but she couldn't, she just couldn't, not in front of so many people.
Mr Bates had had a slight fall and as Miss Baxter was so kind-hearted she was concerned about him, Lottie concluded, unaware, as were the rest of the Downton staff, that the events surrounding John Bates's fall were suspicious, and that Phyllis Baxter and Joseph Molesley had been asked to keep their counsel about the accident – if accident it was – to avoid alarming anyone unduly. No, Lottie couldn't talk to Miss Baxter and add to her worries. And there was nobody else. She had no family and no friends except for Miss Baxter and Mr Barrow.
But she couldn't talk to Mr Barrow because Mr Barrow told her to say she rescued Master George and this very deception was the cause of her anxiety. So there was nobody else except... except...suddenly the young maid-of-all-work thought of Anna!
Mr Bates's wife was always very nice to her. Perhaps she would understand how Lottie didn't deserve her very own room as Lady Grantham insisted she have as a reward. Nor did she deserve the half-dozen books – when Her Ladyship asked what was her favourite book and Lottie whispered she didn't know, she sent a maid to collect six from the library that she said her daughters enjoyed reading when they were younger and told Lottie they were hers to keep. But Lottie wanted the ground to open up and swallow her when they showered her with gifts when they realised she hadn't simply snatched the little boy from his cot as they first thought.
But it was Mr Barrow who rescued Master George, not Lottie. She didn't deserve the bon-bons or the chocolates; the lace handkerchiefs or the scented soap; the books or the hair-slides. And she most certainly didn't deserve to be given her very own room. While it had been a relief to be away from everybody - Miss Kelly and Miss Cooper and Miss Andrews and other maids were rung for various things and a couple of the men servants were needed too - now she hated being alone.
She had to tell someone the truth about what happened because Mr Barrow, not she, was the one who should be thanked. But how could she get to Mrs Bates's cottage without being stopped by one of the other servants and having a thousand more questions fired at her? Unless….she drew in a deep breath.
There was the hidden staircase, wasn't there?
She discovered it quite by accident. As a maid of all work and being required to be here, there and everywhere, Lottie was always in a hurry and one memorable afternoon, unable to see over the pile of sheets she carried, she tripped and fell headlong through the door of the rarely used cupboard that was situated atop rarely used stairs in a rarely used corridor. As the corridor was rarely used, it could be raced down at speed without anyone there to tell her off for running, by which method she always hoped to outpace any of the dreaded spiders who might be lurking in wait.
The rarely used cupboard was a huge, dark and intimidating affair, housing multiple items that the servants no longer used but "might come in handy some day" after it was first decided, a century or so earlier, it would be a store cupboard for such items as, in lieu of a better phrase, the unloved and the unwanted, and now largely forgotten about by the current domestic staff,
On that memorable afternoon Lottie stumbled inside, and unable to stop herself, fell several steps forward in a peculiar half-run to its very depths, where she became hopelessly entangled in dozens and dozens of extremely thick black curtains that were hung over several rails and which immediately threw themselves over her.
When at last she escaped their unprovoked attack, through the light of the cupboard door which some of the abandoned sheets had thoughtfully propped open in the tumbling, she espied a small, arched wooden door, which the curtains had hidden, and which, with much creaking, huffing and blowing of dust and shaking of dirt and coughing of cobwebs, allowed itself to be opened.
The cobwebs were enough to stop Lottie from venturing any further although she saw enough to know at the bottom of the stone steps was another small door which led outside to judge by the sunlight streaming underneath, and where a field mouse now entered, intent on its business. Mice held no fear for Lottie and she turned not a hair. Spiders, however…!
Thus she quickly abandoned her quest and the only person she ever told of her discovery was Mr Barrow, who came to investigate and said it was probably a servants' staircase used centuries ago.
Thomas went down the stone steps alone. The door, which he had great difficulty opening, for centuries of thick vegetation had overgrown it so thoroughly that only bats and beetles and other small creatures even knew it was there, led out into what seemed to be the middle of nowhere.
A considerable distance away were the ruins of a much earlier part of the Abbey and what purpose this building with its bricked-up door served had long baffled everyone - but then Downton Abbey abounded with mysteries: there were windows to rooms that didn't exist and strange symbols carved into its brickwork; persistent stories of a White Lady who haunted the fifth floor and piano music heard where there was no piano. One puzzle, however, as he told Lottie later, was now laid to rest.
No doubt the bricked-up door used to be a servants' entrance and the building that connected it to both the hidden staircase and the main house long since decayed; it was often thought the disused building resembled kitchens and it was rumoured that, until a more responsible family member took matters in hand and pulled Downton Abbey back from the brink of bankruptcy, the landed gentry would throw elaborate dinner parties with hundreds of guests when several more servants would need to be hired for the day, most of whom were hired from the old cottages some miles away and where John and Anna Bates now called home.
Mr Barrow, who she knew liked to keep secrets, said it was best not to tell anyone else about the staircase. As she barely spoke to anyone, this was easily achieved, but she liked him so much she would never have breathed a word even if she were in the habit of conducting a lively debate in the servants' hall every evening. The worn, crumbling stone steps, he added, were far too dangerous for her to attempt.
But it was the hidden staircase that Lottie thought of now. Her concern for Mr Barrow was greater than her terror of spiders and Mr Barrow was the one who should be rewarded, Lottie thought, confident Mrs Bates would sort everything out and little dreaming of the news she would hear and the wheels that would be set in motion.
A/N: It might seem like I've strayed from the main Downton Abbey characters in this chapter and the last, but there is a reason which will tie it all together in the coming chapters.
