Chapter Sixty One
Red Revolution
Hallowed by time and tradition, dinner at Downton Abbey always followed its prescribed course. Seemingly as immutable as the great sarsen stones of Stonehenge, nothing ever changed and with the meal at last over, as was their custom the family had adjourned to the Drawing Room; so far so good.
However, tonight was proving different to any other, for with the family's arrival in the Drawing Room what then occurred had thrown time-honoured tradition to the four winds when Cora, countess of Grantham, unexpectedly informed a thoroughly flustered and somewhat perplexed Carson that they would serve coffee for themselves.
"Are you sure, milady?" enquired Carson.
"Yes, quite sure; thank you Carson," said Cora. Her tone brooked no further discussion of the matter. With an almost imperceptible nod of his head, given the most irregular of circumstances, Carson made an exceptionally dignified retreat below stairs to the inviolable sanctuary of the butler's pantry in search of both constancy and a medicinal brandy with which to calm his shattered nerves.
Having served themselves coffee, with the exception of Robert who remained standing, the family now seated themselves in front of the fireplace to listen to Mary and Edith recount yet further details of all that had happened to them while they were over in Dublin attending Sybil's wedding.
"Of course ..."
Here we go, thought Mary, setting her cup firmly back in its saucer with a resounding chink, watching impassively as her father stood with his hands clasped behind his back his feet planted four square on the rug in front of the drawing room fireplace.
"I blame Branson. If I'd only ..."
"His name is Tom, as well you know" interrupted Cora forcefully. She sat; hands clasped, and looked up intently at her husband from the sofa. "Robert, in case you have forgotten, Tom is now not only Sybil's husband, but he is also our son-in-law, and Mary and Edith's brother too".
"How could I possibly forget that? Any of it?" demanded Robert crossly. "You've done nothing but talk about the damned fellow all throughout dinner!"
Robert raised his eyes towards the ceiling, as if seeking divine inspiration. Honestly, he thought, ever since Mary and Edith had returned from Ireland, with the exception of Mama, his immediate family – Cora, as well as Mary and Edith, appeared to have taken leave of their collective senses.
As far as Robert himself was concerned things had begun to go irretrievably downhill somewhere, he thought, between the serving of the Dover sole and the Beef Stroganoff. Not that it was any reflection on Mrs. Patmore's culinary skills; although given what was now happening in Russia, serving a "Russian" dish at tonight's dinner did give Robert some pause for thought. Had the family's cook's choice of main course been some kind of subtle revolutionary protest?
Then there had been Mary's surprise announcement about taking out a subscription to the Irish Independent.
"Do you know anything about this, Carson?"
"After Lady Mary mentioned the matter to me earlier this evening, I ... I was going to discuss it with you first, Your Lordship; before ... I ... took it any further". For once, the elderly butler of Downton Abbey seemed uncharacteristically hesitant.
"I don't know why, Carson," said Mary sipping her wine. "I am quite capable of deciding for myself what it is I wish to read".
"You've never read a newspaper before" observed Robert drily.
"Well, Papa, there's a first time for everything and now that Sybil is living over in Dublin, I shall be able to keep myself informed as to what is happening there and in the rest in Ireland as well. That apart, I shall take great pleasure in reading what it is that Tom has to say".
"Tom?" Robert's left eye twitched. "You mean Branson of course".
"No, Papa, I mean Tom; my brother-in-law and your son-in-law!"
"Mary, I appreciate that I may well regret asking you this, but would you kindly explain to me the connection between Branson and your intention to subscribe to an Irish newspaper?"
"Tom's a journalist now, with the Independent," explained Edith. "You know he is, Papa. We did tell you about it earlier".
"And a very fine one from all accounts" added Cora.
"Bravo for Branson then!" exclaimed Isobel. "Of course, I would have said Tom, as I will do in the future, but somehow "Bravo for Branson" had a nicer ring about it!" Isobel laughed and Robert's left eye twitched again.
There was no other explanation for it. They had all gone completely mad, extolling the alleged merits of the bloody ex-chauffeur to the very skies. Throughout dinner it had been Branson this, Branson that and that was not all, oh, no, not by a long way.
Apart from Mary suddenly developing an unexpected interest in Irish affairs and announcing her intention to order an Irish newspaper – he'd put a stop to that soon enough – there had been Edith, asking him what it meant for an aristocratic title to "be in abeyance".
Yet, she had never expressed the slightest interest in such matters before, but, this evening, just before dinner, Robert had found her in the Library. He paused, mentally corrected himself, in his Library, looking up an entry in Burke's Landed Gentry of Ireland. When he had asked Edith what it was she was hoping to find, she had grown evasive, said it was something to do with a wall tablet she had seen in the church where Sybil and Branson had been married.
Not that Robert had believed her, but he had been unable to pursue the matter further. Returning to the Abbey, he had been delayed unexpectedly by Jarvis asking him to speak to the tenant of Home Farm about a matter, which, on reflection, Jarvis should have dealt with himself. Therefore, by the time Robert had finally returned to the Abbey, and then found Edith in his Library, the dinner gong had already sounded.
And, why on earth had his own mother asked that ridiculous question of Mary as to whether she played chess, when Mama knew perfectly well that Mary didn't and in fact, wouldn't know a King from a Queen? Although, God help me, thought Robert, apparently bloody Branson did.
"Tom plays chess," Edith had said brightly.
"Apparently he's very good" said Mary. "He's teaching Sybil".
At that, Robert's left eye twitched not once, but twice. Was there anything, which bloody Branson couldn't do?
"You were just as silly when you were a child" interposed Violet quietly.
Robert paused, looked squarely at his mother.
"Meaning what if you please, Mama?"
"That you never liked facing up to things which you found to be disagreeable. You still don't".
"So I'm just supposed to accept that your granddaughter, our youngest daughter, your sister, has run away to Ireland and married a former servant of this house, a good-for-nothing, no-good, penniless Irishman of no social standing whatsoever".
"Tom's certainly not penniless," snapped Mary. "He may work for his living, but he's always done that and so now too does darling Sybil. And, as for Tom, as we told you, Papa, he's now a respected journalist with the Irish Independent".
"Papa, if you had only been there to see how Tom looked after us all, took such good care of us, at the Shelbourne, after the bomb exploded, you wouldn't say such a beastly thing" said Edith, tears starting in her eyes.
"And may I remind you that if Sybil hadn't been so deceitful and run off to Ireland with Branson, none of this would ever have happened. None of you would ever have been put in danger and as for opposing the British Army, for Sybil's sake I suppose I should be grateful that he wasn't shot. Well, let me tell you, I'm not!" stormed Robert.
"Robert!" Cora sounded appalled.
"No, Tom wasn't shot, but his brother-in-law was," said Edith quietly.
"And no-one seems to know what has become of him" added Mary bitterly. Cora patted her daughter's knee.
"He'll be all right, my darling. I'm sure of it".
"And Sybil wasn't deceitful. And she didn't run off to Ireland! You gave them both your blessing, Papa," said Edith. Unbeknown to them all, inside, Robert winced inwardly at the remembrance.
"I know compared to you Papa, Tom's not a wealthy man ..." began Mary.
Robert guffawed.
"I should say. He's a penniless, no-good ..."
"Actually, he's a very fine man" interrupted Mary. "He's kind, he's decent, he's thoroughly honourable, and what's more he absolutely adores Sybil".
"So you told us all at dinner". Robert shook his head, rolled his eyes.
"Just as much as she loves him," added Edith.
"Heavens, why he sounds a veritable paragon," exclaimed Violet. "Next you'll be telling us you're writing to Rome".
"Why to Rome?" asked Mary.
"To recommend Branson for canonisation".
"Oh granny, please do try and be serious".
"I was dear. Well, almost, and all the time he was driving me about I never even realised what a shining model of virtue the young man was. How very remiss of me" Violet chuckled.
"Granny, please" said Edith.
"You might as well know this, Papa, when Tom and darling Sybil come over here to Downton to visit, then Edith and I will welcome them, both of them, with open arms," said Mary forcefully.
"And so will I" said Cora. "In fact, I will be writing to them tomorrow to make plans for such a visit".
"You will do no such thing; not until we have discussed the matter further. And what's this I hear about Sybil being forced to walk to church on the morning of her wedding?" demanded Robert crossly.
"Forced to walk to the church?" spluttered Violet indignantly. "Whoever made her do that?"
"Who do you think, Mama? Bloody Branson, of course!"