July 1920

"You look like you just finished a hard day's work rather than just beginning you day" Meg O'Shera smiled at her cousin Tom as she set a mug of steaming tea in front of him on the kitchen table.

Tom gave her a rather weak smile. "Sybil's having trouble getting comfortable and her tossing and turning is keeping me awake."

He took a sip of his tea. "So she's finally sleeping and I have to go to work."

"Maybe you should try sleeping on the sofa in the sitting room."

Tom glared at his young cousin. "I may have mentioned that and thank heavens the closest thing on her nightstand was a book. It barely missed my head when she threw it towards me.

Meg chuckled. "Ah … so the sweet and genteel Sybil has a temper."

"More like grumpy and grouchy which unfortunately are words I might have let slip."

"You didn't Tom" Meg, hands on her hips, glowered at him. "Too bad the book missed."

A sheepish Tom lowered his head. "Let's just hope that this baby comes soon" he mumbled.

"Well it won't be long now" Meg countered before chuckling "and then it will be the sounds of a wailing baby that will be keeping you awake."

"You're just full of good cheer this morning Meg. Are you sure you got enough sleep last night?"

"Slept like a baby … oops … or should I say-"

"You know you are here only on a trial basis" Tom tried sounding stern but the gleam in his eyes belied that pretense. "I hear the fish monger is looking for help."

"Ah but then you'd be tired and hungry" Meg laughingly replied as she set a plate filled with two fried eggs and a generous portion of sausage in front of him.

As he dug into his food Tom admitted to himself that since Meg's arrival the quality of his meals had greatly improved but he wisely chose to keep silent on that fact.

Meg had long finished washing the breakfast dishes, sweeping the kitchen floor, and scrubbing the kitchen table and counter and was now ensconced in the sitting room's overstuffed lounge chair, her knitting on her lap forgotten as she contentedly watched through the window the world passing by on the street below. She marveled at how different this street of shops and businesses was from the quiet main street of her small village on the outskirts of Dublin. There she was more likely to see a farm hand walking a cow down the road or pushing a cart of hay than businessmen dressed in suits or workmen in their company's uniforms. However, of greater interest to her were the smartly dressed women, many of whom were not much older than herself, looking so fashionable with their pretty dresses and some with their hair cut in short bobs or with bangs peeking out from under their hats, on their way to their jobs as secretaries or bookkeepers. To Meg even being a shop clerk seemed so much better than being a barmaid or servant which were the more likely opportunities available to someone like her.

Although she had only been staying at Tom and Sybil's flat for just over a week Meg had begun to recognize some of the workers who filed past. There were two girls who were the most fashionable and Meg was just sure they worked at the dress shop three blocks away from the more tradesman-like business of this immediate block. Yesterday afternoon she had stood in front of the shop's windows admiring the dresses in the window display. Trimmed with delicate lace or intricate beading Meg was sure the material was silk and she imagined these were the types of things Sybil had worn back at her castle.

This morning she had been sitting here long enough that the workers and shopkeepers she had seen earlier had made their way to their offices and shops and now customers were beginning to fill the pavement.

"Seen anything interesting this morning?" Sybil couldn't help but smile seeing Meg intently watching out the window and she expected Meg to tell about some dress or hairstyle she had seen.

Meg quickly turned away from the window and towards Sybil, her cheeks rosy and her blue eyes sparkling. "Oh Sybil I didn't hear you come in."

"Of course not since I'm so light on my feel even though I look like a beached whale" Sybil laughingly replied as Meg stood.

Meg couldn't help but smile at her cousin's wife. It had certainly been the talk of the family when Tom had returned from England with Lady Sybil Crawley as his intended wife. Many of course had been horrified at the thought of Tom marrying an English aristocrat, some had even refused to meet her, and some had secretly bet on how long Lady Sybil would stay before fleeing back to England but Meg had thought it terribly romantic.

"The water is hot for your tea" Meg said as she took a step towards the kitchen. "What do you feel like eating this morning?"

"Meg you don't have to wait on me."

"But Sybil-"

Sybil raised her hand "You're here to help me with the baby and since this little guy seems intent on delaying his entrance as long as possible I-"

"I thought you thought it was a girl" Meg couldn't help but interrupt Sybil.

Sybil looked down at her belly which now blocked her view of her feet. "I'm sorta hoping it will be a girl just because Mrs. Branson and her-" Sybil's hand flew up to her mouth and Meg starting laughing.

"You don't want your mother-in-law to always be right."

"Oh Meg how did you get to be so wise!" Sybil hadn't known Tom's young cousin very well before she came to stay with them. Among the many things that had surprised Sybil since coming to Dublin was Tom's extended family. She had known about his mother and siblings but wasn't prepared for the myriad of uncles, aunts, and cousins along with nieces and nephews and some she still hadn't mastered exactly who they were. Meg's mother, Maeve, was Fionnoula Branson's sister and the two women seemed quite close although Maeve's flightiness and lightheartedness was quite a contrast to the more sensible and down to earth Fionnoula.

Meg was one of eight children and unlike the Branson household where all the siblings resembled each other with the same shade of blue eyes and just slight variations of dark blonde to light brown hair, the children in Meg's family ranged from the black haired and dark eyed Roan to the very blonde and bright blue eyes of the youngest Maud. Meg was somewhere in between with hair a bit darker than Tom's but blue eyes almost the color of Sybil's.

The girl had just finished school and was in a quandary as to what to do next. She had admitted to Sybil that she longed to go to university but lack of money made that impossible yet she was determined not to go into service or end up married and a mother before she was 20. In many ways Sybil saw something of younger self in Meg; a young girl who wasn't satisfied with her lot in life, who had a desire to do something different from what was expected of her, who had a thirst for knowledge and adventure.

Still looking down at her belly Sybil began running her hand up and down her swollen belly. "Well … whether it's a boy or a girl I just wished he or she would hurry up and come. My back is killing me, I can't sleep, and I need to pee every five minutes."

"I don't think it will be long now Sybil" Meg smiled at her. "I can see that it's definitely dropped in the past week so it will be soon."

Surprised at Meg's comment Sybil's brow raised as she looked at Meg.

"I've watched two of my sisters who have five children between them, all under the age of four, so I've learned quite a bit."

"Well you certainly know more than me. Even with my nursing I've had no experience with childbirth." Sybil ran her hand across her belly one last time. "I certainly hope you're right and I'm sure Tom does too."

Remembering Tom this morning Meg couldn't help but chuckle. "He did look a bit tired this morning."

A few days later with Tom at work and Meg downstairs in the shop helping Fergus, Sybil, who had forgone that comfortable lounge chair that proved to now be impossible to get up from without help, was stretched out on the sofa in the sitting room, her back and head propped up by a stack of pillows. The windows were open and the drapes billowed in a cool breeze that gave a hint of coming rain.

Looking at the movement of the drapes, her thoughts surprisingly drifted to the first time she had seen this room. She had known as soon as she walked through the doorway that this was the flat she wanted for her and Tom's first home and in the past year it had become just that – their home. They had spent the first night of their marriage here and had recently celebrated their first anniversary here. She laughed thinking of that most celebratory moment and how they had sat on this sofa, the room softly lit by candlelight, dining on take away fish and chips washed down with two bottles of ale. It might have been an unconventional choice but it was what she had wanted. For her take away fish and chips, and a pint of ale she might add, something she had never had until coming to Dublin, represented her new life.

But there had been many wonderful evenings in this room, sometimes surrounded by Tom's family or friends, sometimes just the two of them. How many evenings had they spent sitting on this sofa, Tom's arms wrapped around her or her head resting on his shoulder, reading or talking far into the night. She blushed thinking of some of the other things they had done in this room.

The past year might not have been exactly what she had in mind when she had agreed to leave Downton and marry Tom but it had been a wonderful year and she didn't for one minute regret her decision.

Sybil was so lost in thoughts of the past year that it took her a moment to realize this latest pain wasn't a back ache.

Although the rains had finally abated, the sky was still littered with dark clouds and the air was cool making it seem later than half past ten. With the shops and offices long closed and the rain having chased away any evening strollers, the street was quiet with only an occasional motor car passing by. Dr. Byrne, carrying his medical bag, made his way across the street. Dodging puddles he was oblivious to the four men hidden in two deep doorways watching him as he made his way down the street. Although there were no lights on in the furniture shop, pockets of the pavement in front were lit from light that shone through two of the windows from Tom and Sybil's upstairs flat and there was a faint glow from a street lamp further along the pavement from the shop.

The jingle of the overhead bell as Dr. Bryne opened the unlocked shop's front door seemed disproportionately loud in the quiet air. The furniture shop was full of shadows as neither Tom nor Fergus had bothered to light a lamp instead sitting in the dim light from the overhead bulb on the upstairs landing of Tom's flat that filtered through the open door separating the shop from the hallway and stairs leading to Tom's flat.

"Oh thank heavens you're back" a visibly anxious Tom greeted the doctor. With the top two buttons of shirt unbuttoned and his tie untied and hanging loosely down his shirt and his hair mussed as if he had been running his hand through it, Dr. Bryne thought Tom was the picture of every first time father anxiously awaiting the baby's arrival.

Putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder, he said "Sybil was quite fine when I was here earlier. These things take time son."

"But it's been hours!"

"And it may be hours more although based on my earlier visit I think it might be soon" the good doctor replied as he patted Tom's shoulder. "She's been in good hands with Mrs. Lowry and your mother. Now I'll just go up and see how things are progressing."

Before turning to go through the doorway that led to the stairs for the upstairs flat, the doctor noticed the whiskey bottle sitting on the counter. Nodding at the bottle he commented "I think that bottle's down another good two inches. You might want to slow down a bit."

"Could I come up and see her?" Tom pleaded.

Sighing deeply the doctor nodded "but only for a minute."

Although the visit with Sybil was much too short, Tom returned to the shop fifteen minutes later satisfied that all was well. "Doc thinks it won't be long now" Tom commented to Fergus.

"I told you-"

Whatever Fergus was going to say was lost in the sudden clatter of the shop's front door being violently opened and four men clad in khaki of the British Army bursting through the door. With two of them pointing rifles at Tom and Fergus, one of them demanded "Where's the doc?"

While a stunned Tom stared at the men, Fergus sitting in his chair calmly looked up at the soldiers. "The good doctor is upstairs attending this man's wife in childbirth."

Without saying anything more, three of the men turned their heads towards the inside doorway leading to the stairs while the fourth kept his rifle trained on an unruffled Fergus.

"You can't go up there" Tom had finally found his voice. "My wife is about to -"

"Are you sure about that" one of the soldiers sneered as he tapped Tom's shoulder with his rifle. "There was an attack this evening. Sure it's not some wounded rebel the doc is attending?"

Before Tom could reply, there was a loud piercing cry from upstairs. "Sybil" Tom cried out as he rushed towards the doorway but was blocked by the soldiers.

"Does sound like a woman" one of the soldiers said. He nodded at one of his comrades "Go upstairs and make sure." Pointing his rifle at Tom he continued "you stay here."

A minute later as another piercing cry shattered the quiet, the soldier rushed back down the stairs looking a bit paler. "It's as he said."

"Whatever made you think the good doctor was treating some rebel up here?" Fergus finally spoke.

"We had a -"

"Edmund it's not our place to discuss-" the apparent leader spoke but was, to his great surprise, interrupted by Fergus.

"Maybe instead of treating all of us as enemies you should treat us as decent people. Dr. Byrne's been treating folks around here for years. He's a good doctor. Never known him to-"

All eyes turned towards the doorway as they heard someone barreling down the stairs.

"Tommy … she's" Meg's eyes grew wide and her voice faltered as she took in the sight of the four British soldiers with two of them holding rifles trained on her.

"Oh God Meg" Tom cried in panic as he rushed to his cousin "Is Sybil … is … oh …" he stammered as he grabbed for her hand.

"Meg" he cried once again as his other hand touched Meg's cheek and turned her face away from the soldiers and towards him. "MEG … Sybil"

With Meg's focus back on Tom she finally blurted out "it's a girl Tommy! A beautiful girl!"

"A girl?" Tom looked thunderstruck. "I have a daughter."

"Yes!" Meg vigorously shook her head up and down. "A daughter!"

"Congratulations Tom!" Fergus called out as he stood and walked over to Tom and slapped him on the back.

"I …" Tom looked back and forth from the soldiers to the doorway. "I need to see-"

"Go on Tom" Fergus said. "Surely these men can't deny a man a look at his firstborn child." In response the lead soldier gave a slight nod of his head but Tom was already through the doorway.

"Well lads I think this calls for a toast" Fergus said as he picked up the whiskey bottle from the counter and poured a wee bit into one of the mugs sitting there. Walking behind the counter he found three more mugs which he set on the counter top and proceeded to pour a bit of whiskey in each of them.

"A toast to the newborn lass" he said as he handed each of the soldiers a mug although they looked a bit baffled and unsure whether they should partake of such an offer.

Sensing their hesitation, Fergus looked at the leader and said "surely you can join us in celebration of such a precious gift as a newborn. And you'll find this a finer whiskey than any English swill."

Although looking a bit uncomfortable, the soldier looked at his fellow men and then gave a slight nod of his head.

Fergus' voice took on an even deeper Irish lilt as he raised the bottle and with a nod of his head said "Such a wee little fit, sent from above. Someone so precious to cherish and love."

Draining their glass in one small gulp, each of the soldiers set their empty mugs on the counter. Although he continue to hold the bottle of whiskey Fergus made no further offer of drink to the men instead he moving towards the shop's front door which he promptly opened.

As the soldiers began to file out the door, Fergus stopped the one that seemed like the leader. "I can't imagine why you'd think the good doctor was up to no good. Not all of us Irish are republicans. I've never heard him talk politics but I know he has a daughter living in Manchester and he has English grandchildren."

It was only after he shut and locked the front door behind the soldiers that Fergus raised the whiskey bottle. "Sodding Brits" he said before taking another swig of whiskey.