A/N:
General Author's Note:
As always, thank you for the support! I hope you're all having a great start to the new year :)
Before we get into the next chapter, I would like just to note something: If Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes seem more on edge at this time than in canon, imagine what it would feel like trying to corral 204 teenagers into singing as best as they can for a concert that will be seen by everyone you know and then some.
Which reminds me: though they may never read this, I'd like to give a shout-out to all of my choir directors and voice teachers from over the years. You've inspired me to learn as much as I can when it comes to singing. And your amazing ability to teach and perform has greatly helped to give me the confidence to write this. In short, thank you.
_._
Elsie had truly been enchanted with Downton's Winter Ball, especially those last few hours of the dance. So enchanted was she that the woman practically floated up the stairs and into her classroom upon returning to the school. After that dancing and walking through the downstairs, things simply had to be different now. And even if she couldn't stay in an official capacity, she at least had friendship and maybe even something more.
However, whatever spell they'd all been under that evening apparently no longer worked once rehearsals started back up.
"Gentlemen, as we have discussed before, this requires staccato - not whatever you've been attempting!"
Worse still, Elsie was beginning to believe that she was the only who'd been enchanted.
"Ladies, we are less than a week away and there's still hesitancy in the final section! You should know this by now - there is no need for such indecision!"
It was almost as though there had been no Winter Ball in the first place.
"I must confess that I am disappointed that you, of all the choirs, are making such novice mistakes with such little time left!"
_._
"You'd think," Ivy began to speak to her fellow Bel Canto singers over today's lunch, irritated with how rehearsal had gone earlier. "That the fact that we already have our music memorized, that we're certainly 'emoting' more than previous years, and that we didn't have to cut any songs that he'd be a little kinder to us."
"It's Mr. Carson," O'Brien piped up from one table over. "What else did you expect?"
"But, Mrs. Hughes is also-"
"Mrs. Hughes will be leaving in a few weeks time. Why else would be he so on edge?" Strangely enough, Sarah only carried some malice with that. Surprisingly, the alto had garnered some respect for the woman. Therefore, her statement was less about causing drama and more about pointing out the obvious.
"Oh. She is, isn't she?" The dejected reply came, sinking the irritation down with some form of weariness.
Sarah turned away from the now deflated group of singers, focusing back on Thomas.
"Remind me: why do we put up with them?"
_._
In some ways, the speed at which the days before the concert were flying by at could be considered both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing for the fact that it meant everyone was getting closer to not stressing about concerts on top of academics.
A curse for the reason that Mr. Carson was clearly turning back into his sterner, rigid self the closer they came to the concert.
_._
"I would like to remind you all," Mr. Carson began to intone solemnly, whilst simultaneously wondering just where all the rehearsal time went, "That it is a privilege to use this auditorium as a rehearsal space. And, therefore, as a privilege it can be easily taken away at a moment's notice."
It was the same speech on respecting the auditorium that was given every year. But it was the fact that Mrs. Hughes was standing right alongside him that made it seem far more likely that Mr. Carson would actually follow through on what was normally a bluff.
_._
"Mrs. Hughes," She looked up from the piano, having been going over some notes for the Men's Ensemble. "I need you to run back upstairs and take care of a few tasks for me. In the midst of all this chaos, I managed to have forgotten to bring down some boxes that contain vital concert material."
Well, less like he'd forgotten and more like he'd purposefully neglected for various reasons. But he couldn't give that away now could he?
"Mr. Carson," They were now a day before the concert, a day where they needed all the rehearsal time they could get, and he wanted her to get some boxes? "Surely it can wait until later?"
With everything else going on, this would just add to the last minute burdens that accompanied concerts. Seeing as how there were enough of those as it is, she was hoping that-
"I'm afraid that even you would agree that what resides within these boxes are as important to our concert as our rehearsals." He could see another thinly-veiled argument coming his way, and tried his best to dodge it. "Believe me when I say you will agree that this is necessary once you see what is inside."
If it weren't for the fact that she respected him as a colleague and had long stopped questioning his peculiar ways - prioritizing box retrievals over rehearsing at a time like this, for instance - she would have remained at the piano. But, the boys on stage were done with their set, the girls would take probably ten minutes to start going through theirs, and retrieving these boxes shouldn't take that long.
Reluctantly, she stood up from the piano.
"And just how many boxes are waiting for me?"
He paused, doing some quick calculations before turning back to her.
"About 5. Maybe 7."
"You're not sure?" She can't help the incredulity: Now she knows he's nearing retirement if he can't even remember how many boxes he's forgotten to bring down.
"I believe the elevator is working today. Therefore, regardless of how many boxes there are, all that will be necessary is to load them onto the cart in 402 and bring them downstairs."
"Well, if I'm not back in 30 minutes, you know exactly why, Mr. Carson." She was already marching towards the door, trying to grateful that this was a task she apparently would find vital for the concert.
20 minutes is all I ask for, Mrs. Hughes.
Only when the door soundly closed did Mr. Carson turn back to his gentlemen.
"Now, we about have fifteen minutes to work."
After all, I've learned never to rely on anything being accomplished at the expected time.
Though, hopefully, Elsie would be a little delayed when she discovered what was waiting for her upstairs. Personally, he grew a little anxious at the thought himself, unsure of whether or not this had been the right thing to do.
But, now was the time to be the stern choir director who focused solely on his ensembles.
"I would also like to add," He turned to the students, directing this next part to every individual in the room. "That this is to remain an absolute secret. Mrs. Hughes doesn't know we are performing this piece because it's meant to be both a surprise and a 'thank you' for all of her work. Therefore, she is not going to know until tomorrow evening." He paused, meeting every single student's gaze to confirm that he had their full attention.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mr. Carson." 204 voices chorused, knowing that even if they hadn't a clue as to what was going on, they knew it was important enough to say nothing about.
"Good."
As he began to start the final secret rehearsal with his gentlemen, Charles could only hope for two things:
1. That this all went half as well as it did the last rehearsal.
2. That she loved this final surprise.
_._
Just as Elsie was taking the stairwell closest to the auditorium, the one stairwell that would also take her directly to 402, a hint of a familiar tune snuck into her mind. She even found herself humming along for a second, before reminding herself that that song wasn't a part of this week's repertoire.
"Let's focus on what's actually going to be performed, eh?" The rhetorical question was meant only for her, of course.
But, had Elsie stuck around that hallway for much longer, she would have realized that the song in question had in fact been coming from the auditorium.
In any case, it only took her a few minutes to make her way up the stairs and to 402. She hadn't even bothered to double check and see if the elevator was working, trusting that Charles was at least right about that even if he did forgot to bring these boxes down.
When she finally made it to his desk, she saw several boxes piled together nearby. However, these boxes struck her as being familiar.
Yet, even though the woman could swear she'd seen most of these boxes before, that wasn't the most fascinating aspect within the situation.
That photo album she had shown him some time ago was resting on top of the only box she didn't recognize.
"What are you doing here?" The choir teacher picked the book up gently, curiously recognizing that the photo album had been deliberately placed. And there was only one other person who had the key to 402.
Which made this all the curiouser.
Upon grasping the photo album, she noticed a piece of paper neatly poking out of the album - a handwritten note that has undoubtedly been carefully placed within the book.
Elsie slowly opened the book, her heart beating faster than normal. She recognized there was more to this little task than previously anticipated. And that recognition led to a mixture of emotion that was both unnerving and sweet.
Once her fingers found and opened the page in question, her eyes widened at what she discovered:
Mrs. Hughes,
If you are reading this, I have asked you to come up here to retrieve these boxes for the concert. Before anything else, I must say thank you for being willing to put up with the requests of an old curmudgeon of a director - it's an arduous task and not one that is always rewarding.
"You've got that right," She muttered to herself. But, her heart wasn't really in the complaint.
She honestly just wanted to keep reading.
As I am sure that you have already realized, these are the boxes of decoration that had been occupying the closet of 403. I know you were hesitant to bring them forth once I started to put my foot down on the matter of what I had called 'trivial decor'. For that I must apologize - it hadn't been one of my finer moments.
That I had made a mistake became more obvious as I began to give your suggestion the chance for further rumination. Upon doing so, I was reminded of how important it is to excel in every aspect of a concert - not just the singing. As I'm sure you've known for quite a while, when the aesthetic of a concert complements the singing, the level of enchantment rises to an extraordinary level.
And, speaking of enchantment, there is one final thought I wish to convey.
Elsie paused a moment, unsure of what was next. But, after a few seconds of biting her lip, it was clear that she had to keep reading.
This semester has been one of the most unconventional several weeks I have every experienced - filled with far more changes and deviations than I could have imagined. It has also been one of the most extraordinary. And that is undoubtedly thanks to you.
In short, I would be remiss if I refrained from expressing my gratitude one last time. However, I will not penning it in this letter. Rather, I will be making one more request that I hope you find to be the opposite of arduous. One that I also hope will provide some semblance of a reward for granting the request of a curmudgeon.
If you would be so kind as to open the box that is on my desk, I would be quite honored. It contains one more surprise for the show and one that I hope you find delightful.
Thank you,
Charles Carson
Her hands refrained from trembling as she turned back to the box, but her heart was still racing. After these last few days, where he had seemed to be more on edge than anything else, she had kept her distance. Elsie, after all, understood the pressure of being in charge of a concert - even if she had never quite had the full experience herself. Therefore, it hadn't quite hurt to go from that dance to their current interactions.
But this sudden returning of frosty behavior - as though he were just meeting her for the first time - certainly confused her. It had her questioning her feelings, her thoughts of telling him about her past. Had her wonder if she should leave the school without putting up any sort of protest or fight.
All those thoughts went away at the sight of this letter. She knew that this was a genuine representation of his feelings, That, they were both human and could possibly have unpleasant moments of tense miscommunication - moments where he asked more than he really should, times where she snapped back in response.
But, this letter illustrated his genuine feelings on the matter.
And when Elsie finally opened the box, waiting a second to see what was inside, she couldn't help the laughter that rang forth. So touched and tickled and pleased was she that it took a solid minute to stop laughing.
"Well then," She whispered through the giddiness, trying her best to come back to a professional demeanor and failing miserably. "You could knock me down with a feather."
Once the laughter finally came to an end did the woman realize that she needed to compose a letter of her own.
Only then could she focus on getting all these boxes down to the auditorium.
_._
"How long do you think it'll take for Mr. Carson to go off on us today?"
The baritone looked over to his left at this question, taking note that Rose and several others were currently on their phones - unable to turn it off even on a day like today.
"Two minutes tops." He murmured darkly to his partner in crime, who snorted at such a kind number. His reasoning being that Mr. Carson's secret rehearsal had already concluded successfully and now the Bel Canto choir occupied the stage.
"I was thinking more like 30 seconds myself." Seeing as how it was concert day and their director seemed to be in even more of a perfectionist mood these days, they'd be in for quite a lecture soon enough.
"Mr. Carson," the door to the auditorium opened to reveal Mrs. Hughes and a cart filled with boxes. He sharply turned on his heel, instantly silencing the singers on stage at the sound of her voice.
"Mrs. Hughes, do you now understand the importance of the mission I asked of you?" He seemed a bit more stuffy than normal, and that was saying something.
"Indeed I do." Came the equally unusual fond reply.
At this, the pair groaned.
"Make that never." They simultaneously muttered, displeased by the fact that nobody had a phone out now. Not only that, Mr. Carson looked as though the heavens had opened up, now that Mrs. Hughes was here with all those boxes.
_._
"Are you ready to showcase the choir, Mrs. Hughes?" Much to their surprise, Isobel and Elsie had managed to leave the school at the same time. "Your concert is in just a day!"
Mrs. Hughes thinly smiled at the reminder, not having enough patience to be as cordial as she liked about the subject. It was the second time Isobel Crawley dampened her mood within the last week, not that the administrator was trying to.
"I think we're as ready as we can ever be."
"How reassuring," The prim tone of Violet Crawley snuck up behind them, causing Elsie's smile to stiffen further and as she internally sighed. "I look forward to seeing what that means."
"Oh, so you'll be coming to the show then?" Isobel shot off the question before Elsie had a chance, but both women were equally intrigued.
"Of course I will be. I always support Mr. Carson and his choral endeavours."
"Just not with quite such enthusiasm, I suppose."
"My dear, enthusiasm has no place in such a conversation. We are not baboons raucously 'supporting' a game of football. We are civilized people observing an art form at its finest."
And with that, Violet Crawley maintained her reign over having the last word at Downton Academy.
Though, that didn't stop Elsie and Isobel from sharing an irritated look.
_._
"Mama, Papa," They jolted a little at the tone coming from their eldest. The girls had been back from school for a few hours, but normally didn't really interact with their parents until dinner.
"Yes, my darling?"
Simply put, Mary Crawley had ceased indulging in quite that sort of hesitant tone for years.
"You will be coming to the choir concert tomorrow evening, right?"
They smiled, not realizing it was quite that important to her. It was always important, just not to the point where she would check in before hand.
"Of course, darling." Her mother couldn't help but light up at the sound of such a request.
"Thank you." And, without further explanation, Mary swept off to go do something else.
"I wonder what's different this time? Why does she want to make sure we're coming, when she knows we always try to?"
"That's an excellent question, darling. One that I'm sure we'll receive the answer to tomorrow."
_._
For most of the school, this day would pass as just another Tuesday.
For 204 students and 2 choir instructors, it was one of the most excruciatingly important days of the year.
_._
A/N: My intention is to have the first half of the concert (for it's going to be easier to read if split into two chapters, believe me) up tomorrow. I say intention only because I will be traveling and the location is a fair distance away.
If everything goes according to plan, there'll be an update unusually early tomorrow. If not, it'll be rather late. Either way, it felt fair to give you a heads up. I hope you have a fantastic rest of your day, and a great start to the new year!