03.24.20 Author's Note: Oh my goodness, I am so very sorry this was not up sooner! I truly thought I had already posted this, and was astonished to realized that my goofball self didn't actually post this last Friday. For that, I am really, really sorry (and will be responding to any/all reviews as soon as I can).
Original Author's Note: Today we've got a dash of sentimentality, lace, plotting, collisions, Fair Ladies, costume talk, and something that has a certain ring to it! Enjoy!
_._
Monday, the 17th of February, 2020
6:42 a.m.
She had crept over the moment he'd gone off to take a shower, feeling unnaturally sentimental this morning and needing a second or two to herself. It was a strange sort of feeling and an atypical desire for her to do what she wanted to. After all it'd been several months since she had –– how had Beryl put it? Ah, yes –– said yes to the dress.
Then again, it'd taken longer than that for her to feel as though she needed to buy a wedding dress. Perhaps that was why the matter still lingered, why she found herself thinking about all that today. When it came to her wedding with Joe, her final selection hadn't been her choice for a dress, not really.
So when it came to this wedding, these special days with Charles, she found herself asking: why would it matter now what she wore? What difference would it make? Wasn't the most important thing that they were getting married? Besides, she hardly knew the traditions for a second wedding, especially not at her age. Was it appropriate to wear white? Would she feel foolish for indulging in something she was only likely to wear once?
But Charles, after coaxing her concerns out, had gently asked her to just try. To take this as a chance to do something for herself, to plan the wedding she wanted, not the wedding she felt obligated to put together. Really, he was much more clever and knowing than people gave him credit for, than she sometimes gave him credit for.
And, so, Elsie decided that she would try, at least once. See if Becky, Beryl, and her mum were available to go in October, see if they were interested in venturing into boutiques and shops she'd never thought she'd see again. Fit herself into at least a few gowns and try her best not to expect anything –– whether that was good or bad.
Everyone had been available. And though she'd been initially concerned –– because, really, how could the perfect dress be found so quickly? Was there even such a thing to be found? It hadn't happened the first time round, what made this any different?
Not only that, but how would they be able to afford anything deemed perfect? They were school-teachers who had no interest in going into debt for this. What they could set aside, what she was willing to set aside, wasn't very likely to equate to much in the grand scheme of the bridal world.
One visit turned into two turned into three. Hesitation crawled deeper into itself, more and more convinced that this was all a sign they ought to call it a day.
But, it turned out none of that really mattered, not in the end…
_._
Saturday, the 12th of October, 2019
2:42 p.m.
Turning about the mirrors, astonished the very moment she'd slipped the gown on, she found herself floored by the elegant creation. Lace adorned the entire ensemble, from the beautiful three-quarter sleeves to the gentle fabric that tenderly pooled about her at the bottom. The neckline, a tasteful v-neck, felt wonderfully refined, mature without being matronly. That the ivory colouring glowed against her skin only helped solidify her decision.
But Elsie had to suppose that the real icing on the cake was the turning around back to her little audience, the lace swirling about her as she did so, only to discover that everyone in the room was shell-shocked. The three most vocal women in her life, the three most exuberant spirits she'd ever known, were speechless.
"My my," She teasingly murmured, still rather floored herself and unable to keep the pleased beam out of her eyes. Truth be told, she'd never known what it meant to feel like a bride until now. "I suppose this'll work."
_._
Monday, the 17th of February, 2020
6:47 a.m.
Beryl had nearly strangled her at those words, the choir teacher's facetious manner being almost too much for her friend to handle. Elsie had to make up for such cheek by officially saying yes to the dress and taking many, many pictures in the boutique stating as such, much to the woman's chagrin.
But, that was then. Today, she had no facetious manner, no quips about the whole thing, no hesitation about the future.
Only a sense of gratitude.
_._
Tuesday, the 18th of February, 2020
3:21 p.m.
He'd been standing center-stage, looking about the auditorium and wondering for the fifteenth time why Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes had selected him of all people to play Enjolras. Staring about the room in self-contained awe, trying his best not to let the butterflies in his stomach reveal themselves in front of all of these new peers, Andy Parker began to turn around and prepare for the first––
For the first time he'd be clumsily bumping into some unsuspecting girl, the poor thing completely taken off-guard.
A flurry of apologies and confusion flitted about the pair as they stumbled back from the accident. They hadn't fallen, but they'd certainly made a mess of themselves and he was definitely kicking himself for being a dunce. Undoubtedly, everyone would see that it'd been his fault and then they would all think him stupid and then that's how they'd treat him for the rest of these rehearsals. And to think, this was the first of the Les Mis rehearsals for the main ensemble! He'd really messed it up now, "I really am sorry––"
"Oh, it's okay!" This time, he finally heard her carefree tone, the girl's voice having been trying to reach him for half a minute, "Normally I'm the one doing the colliding."
Andy weakly chuckled at this, bent on trying to change the subject, "I don't even know your name."
"Ellie Bell," She proudly declared, holding out a hand, "And you?"
He grasped it, touched by her warm attitude, "Andy Parker."
"Andy, Ellie," Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes had made it to the auditorium, standing next to one of the first row of seats in the house, "If you would be so kind as to join us down in the seats. We want to talk to everyone about a few things before getting started."
"'Course! Be right down!" Right away, Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes!"
Proceeding to the stairs that ran along the side of the stage, these steps being the most efficient when it came to hurrying over to the seats in question, the tenor had been surprised to see Ellie was sat on the edge of the stage. She continued to surprise him by daring to hop right off the edge of the stage, gracefully landing in the orchestra pit and playfully curtseying at the sight of Andy gaping at her.
"If we are done risking injury to ourselves by roughhousing on the stage,"
"Sorry, Mr. Carson!" But the soprano didn't sound apologetic, only proving to the teen that she was quite the character and one he'd really like to get to know better.
_._
Wednesday, the 19th of February, 2020
7:13 a.m.
Beryl Patmore was never one for lurking or scurrying away in the shadows. She preferred to openly storm into a place, to barge her way through, anything but what she was doing right now: cautiously approaching a certain section of the school with as much discretion as she could muster, trying her best to furtively remain out of sight.
"Beryl?" She'd been spotted before she was ready by them, of all people! And just when she was just a stone's throw away from her destination, when she was so close to making it undetected.
Turning around to face her dear friend and trying her best to seem perfectly innocent, "Elsie! Charles! Madalynn!" Oh, she was relieved to note that the English teacher had been trailing along the choir teachers. It meant that the pair was, no doubt, sufficiently distracted.
"Good morning, Mrs. Patmore!" Madalynn Thorn was a sight for sore eyes for the band director, if only because she made for the perfect excuse. But, no, in all honesty, Beryl did like the woman. She liked her once Madalynn finally got everyone's name right, that is. "I was just asking Elsie to share some of the choirs' efforts for their showcase. We in the English department have been rather curious to hear about the show,"
"Oh, well, I shouldn't keep you!" Beryl informed them, happy that the band room required a different set of stairs than the one for the choir rooms and English department. It meant she could pretend to walk in the opposite direction, as though she were preparing to set-up for the day, and no one could question her about it. It also meant that, when three sets of footfalls faded away out of earshot at last, the band director could stealthily double-back and––
And come face-to-face with one of her other dear friends, "May! Didn't see you there!"
"Beryl, great! I'd been meaning to ask you a question about the showcase––"
The redhead didn't give a mental curse about this bloody showcase, not even though it was getting in the way of her plans yet again. She didn't do as such because knew that the whole idea came from a good place and it was already quite the morale booster for everyone involved. Moreover, and this had to be Charles' influence, she knew cursing it would be childish. What she did do, however, was the following: "Sorry, May: can't talk the showcase right now! Have to have a chat with Mrs. Crawley."
Making sure to fake a shudder as though the task were a necessary evil being forced on her and not her own scheme, Beryl hurriedly glanced in the direction of the administration's offices. If that didn't get the message across, that she really wanted to be left alone, nothing would.
"Oh, good luck with Violet." Beryl didn't dare to correct her about which Mrs. Crawley she'd be seeing, not needing the orchestra director to linger. "Will you be free to chat during fifth then?"
"'Course!" She reassured the woman, discreetly casting another look about to make sure there would be no more interruptions after this. Seeing that the hallway was empty and that Cora Crawley's office was literally twelve steps away, Beryl quickly sent the May Bird off her way and hastily made her way toward her destination –– not in the mood to be put off any further.
Fortunately, the administrator was free to talk. Not that it would have mattered either way if the woman were free. This was important enough that the band director would've interrupted any meeting, well aware of the fact that time was of the essence here.
"Mrs. Patmore? What brings you here today?"
"Actually, now that you mention it," Beryl suspected that Cora Crawley would be all for the idea she was about to suggest. It was a bit of a stretch to have this much confidence, but the band director had a feeling the administrator wouldn't be terribly opposed to this.
Or, so, she hoped.
"Don't tell me: you want me to ask Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes to sing a duet for the 'Best of Downton'?" The American teasingly asked, causing the woman to chortle at the thought. "While I do think that would be rather sweet, I don't know how agreeable they'd be to the thought."
"Not quite…" Though, that was a thought to consider; no doubt being an idea of merit. That is, if her friends were agreeable to the suggestion. However, that really had nothing to do with her reason for being here this morning. "But, it is something that involves them."
"Really? Well, now you have to tell me everything!"
_._
Thursday, the 20th of February, 2020
7:13 a.m.
It was one of their last rehearsals in 403, one of the last moments where they'd be working solely with the music. Next week meant that every class would start meeting in the auditorium, that they'd begin working on every aspect of the show –– choreography, the general set-up of each song, everything.
Just the thought of it had Claire Morris unable to sit still, beaming every time she entered the second fourth floor. And that was before she finally snagged a solo, being one of seven for "I Could Have Danced All Night".
In the spirit of fairness, wanting to give as many students a chance to be in the spotlight as possible, Mrs. Hughes had divided the original, lengthy solo into several parts. Needless to say, everyone had been ecstatic for the change-up, many more girls auditioning than anyone had expected. So, that she was one of the final seven, it was simply fantastic!
"Now, ladies, who can remind me where in My Fair Lady this song takes place?" As soloists, they were all required to do additional research and find out as much as they could about the musical and the song. Claire had taken it as far as she could, finding out that the musical was entirely based off of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion.
"It's when Eliza finally has a breakthrough with her lessons!" The choir teacher nodded at this, pleased with the enthusiasm. Everyone had responded to the question, chattering their own equivalent of that answer.
"And, now, when have you had your own breakthrough?" Claire paused in her excitement, much like her six other companions, "When have you had your own breakthrough, when you'd been trying to understand something and then it, one day, it just clicked? If you can recall your own breakthrough and remember it while you sing, it'll be easy to show the audience what Eliza is feeling."
Everyone had quieted down at this, thinking. Some were hesitant to share in case it wasn't what she wanted. Others simply didn't know what to think. After a moment, Maribel Diaz was brave enough to ask, "Can you give us an example, Mrs. Hughes?"
The older woman nodded, "It can be a breakthrough of any kind. Suppose, for instance, you had a breakthrough when it came to singing or school. That you'd been singing one way, but it was easier and more fun to sing another. That maths didn't have to be as complicated as it seemed, that––" The teacher trailed off, sheepishly smiling at all seven girls shaking their heads in firm disbelief, "Or, perhaps, maths really is that complicated."
Chuckles and titters broke out. And while Claire was all for laughing, she was also all for getting answers: "Do you have any other examples, Mrs. Hughes?"
"Well, suppose you woke up one day and suddenly understood something inspiring," The young soprano watched as her teacher glanced in the direction of 402, "Suppose you realized that life didn't have to be a certain way, that it could much more than you imagined."
Everyone knew what she was talking about. Or, more specifically, who she was thinking about. And, resisting the urge to squeal and swoon over the love the woman held, all seven students kept quiet until she looked to remember where she was.
"Now, I want you to think about those moments for yourselves. Close your eyes, and think back to when you felt truly inspired by something you learned. There's no need to share it yet. For now, recall the memory and how you felt when it happened."
Claire did as instructed, trying her best to make the memory appropriate to choir, wanting to remain focused on the task at hand. She soon found herself thinking back to when she realized that a lot of singing was simply putting a musical note to her voice. That singing and speaking didn't have to be so different when it came down to it, something that had inspired her for months.
"I want you to keep your eyes closed, even when I play the accompaniment. And when it's your turn to sing, I want you to channel all of that memory when you sing. Reflect everything you felt in your voice and really dig deep into that memory..."
_._
Friday, the 21st of February, 2020
5:57 p.m.
Linda Vance considered herself many things: a decent soprano, a klutzy person on occasion, someone who prided herself on having compassion for people, so on and so forth. She had never before considered herself someone who was lacking in patience, who regretted her flaws, who dreaded going to rehearsals, so on and so forth.
See, Alice Neal was changing everything.
Alice Neal and her incessant criticisms, peppered mostly in the direction of Downton's faculty. Alice Neal and her never-ending prima donna attitude, her backhanded compliments, her subtly snide remarks –– it was a wonder Linda hadn't lost her temper yet and they were only a few rehearsals in.
"Oh, Lida Rose, won't you be mine?"
This song, for instance, was getting on the teaching assistant's nerves. Mrs. Hughes had stated clear as day that the showcase was not supposed to repeat any musical. That in order to show a diverse range of musicals, the choir teacher had no desire in selecting multiple songs from the same musical.
So, seeing as how the faculty group were already planning on doing "It's You" from The Music Man, why would they also do "Lida Rose/Dream Of Now" from none other than The Music Man? And, Linda didn't care if Alice proclaimed to have done her research, having supposedly found out that this was a classic barbershop piece.
No, Linda knew the woman had only suggested this song to spite Downton.
Well, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson were showing her! Linda knew both teachers weren't entirely pleased with the suggestion, but they'd gracefully accepted the song when it came up –– especially when it became obvious the other directors were all for it.
"Right." The grey-eyed woman proclaimed as they finished the tag for the song, eyeing Elsie and Beryl with disappointment, "I still think one of our basses is flat. But there was some improvement in that section, I suppose."
Okay. One more barbed comment like that and Linda would need to be held back from shooting off a retort of her own, if not something worse. She didn't care if she was the most inexperienced musician in the room; there was being a perfectionist and then there was being cruel!
"Oh, look at the time!" The assistant's irritation cracked into something kinder at the interruption, turning back to see Joyce Barnaby glancing at the clock. Truly, Linda found her appreciation for Midsomer's choir director grew every time the woman spoke, "Looks like now's the perfect time to break!"
Well, at least it would be a break from Alice.
Linda suspected, as she watched Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson approach, this wouldn't be an actual break.
"Did you get a chance to look at the school's costume supply, Linda?" Internally wincing, having been avoiding the subject ever since she how depleted Downton was when it came to showcase costumes, the assistant didn't know how to tactfully respond.
"Well, yes." Mrs. Hughes nodded at this, understanding at once what the younger woman was implying.
Mr. Carson, on the other hand, looked as though he required further explanation.
"And?" The choir director inquired, "Do we have what we need?"
Right. Might as well get to the point with this. "With what we've got, I'll have to go thrift shopping, Mr. Carson." He looked as though he wanted to protest at this but she remained firm, "I've done it before and know I've got more than enough money to make it work."
"What's this I hear about thrift shopping?" Dickie Merton was another person Linda found she really respected, the man currently making his way over. Soon enough the situation was soon tactfully explained to the choir director, the result being: "Well, we certainly have a lot of costumes at Grey! And since we don't need them this semester, I'm sure it would be no trouble to lend them, no trouble at all."
"And," It seemed everyone was involving themselves with the matter, if Joyce's attitude was anything to go by, "Midsomer also has a lot of costumes. In fact, my daughter's theatre company might even have extras they'd be happy to lend for the occasion."
"Well," Now it was time for the choir director to be as hesitant as his assistant, certainly not used to help from outside sources, "I suppose that could work."
"I think it's an excellent idea," Mrs. Hughes chimed in, looking inordinately pleased.
"The Center might also have something of value––"
"Oh, I'm sure there'll be enough as is," Joyce kindly remarked, "But I suppose talk of costumes brings up a good point: what exactly should we be aiming for here with The Music Man? American attire from the time period? Our attire from the time period? The classic concert attire?"
So much for any sort of break.
"Well," Alice began, a glint in her eyes, "If you must know, I've an idea about that…"
_._
Sunday, the 23rd of February, 2020
9:17 p.m.
Really, Charles Carson was far more sentimental than he cared to admit. And though he usually felt comfortable with sharing said sentimentality with Elsie, there were still moments where it all was so unfamiliar, so foreign to him, that he needed to handle it alone. Where he needed a few minutes to himself to think about it all, become comfortable with it.
The man had quietly walked over to their dresser only once his fiancée began her nightly routine for bed, having left the room. He had no intention of lingering with this plan of his, not wanting to risk being playfully teased about it. But he did carry the strangest urge to indulge his sentimentality –– something that was happening more and more, if he were being entirely honest.
The drawer slid open like a beautiful glissando, effortlessly revealing the two treasures he found himself frequently thinking of ever since they bought them. And, lovingly fingering the velvet ring boxes, he realized it wouldn't be enough as is. He needed to see their wedding rings in the open, needed to remind himself that this was going to happen.
Carefully easing the boxes out of the drawer, Charles brought them over to his side of the bed and delicately placed them down on the blanket.
It only took a few reverent heartbeats to open them.
They were simple bands, simple and sweet. A single thin band of gold for them both, the pair seamlessly matching. He'd felt that it was a sign of unity if they matched, and she'd been so touched by the idea she'd agreed at once.
"They really are lovely," Charles should've known that Elsie wouldn't have taken too long getting ready for bed. His subconscious might've even been counting on it, secretly hoping they'd have a moment to admire these beautiful treasures. But, whether it was intentional or not, he loved that she was here.
"They are." The man agreed, his heart lifting as he felt her take her place right beside him on the bed, leaning into him as they began to look at the rings together. Without saying another word, they continued to share in these little treasures.
Eventually, when it was clear they could spend all night here, it'd been decided that it was time for bed. Placing the rings back into their respective boxes, she took hold of his whilst he grasped hers. And together they brought them back to the drawer, sliding it shut together, content.