A/N: Okay, I'm afraid that this is the last installment for the weekend. Then it will be either one or two drabbles a day until we're done. You can blame my work for that. I don't mind writing on my phone there on my breaks, but I flinch at logging on through the PCs and posting fic from my office. This part brings us about half-way word count wise, although the next few parts are individually a little longer in length. Once again thank you to all my loyal and incredibly supportive readers, your words mean the world to me!
_auld lang syne_
It seems easier after Christmas. She hates that she thinks that, but is aware that they are all feeling it.
There had been a painful anticipation before the holiday; full of dread and fear to face this first Christmas without them - they say first, pray it is the only and know better now than to believe the promises given of an end soon.
But after the gifts and food, the songs and tears it seems easier to get on. Somehow they are getting used to the gaps and empty places.
Mrs Crawley and Lady Sybil have spoken to Doctor Clarkson, and Her Ladyship has almost decided to give permission to have the hospital open at the Abbey.
They are all ready now to have something to do that feels like they are helping in some way, contributing to the efforts their men are making.
They have been so lucky so far; Downton is perhaps not happy, but they have not had occasion to go into mourning. So many have.
She heard from William a week ago, he is still with Mr Matthew, although he was careful not to say too much more.
His Lordship writes often and has been to the house once since donning his uniform.
Charles has gone to the frontline. He has not told her so, but she knows him well enough to read between the lines of his letters.
He doesn't wish for her to worry and so she will not tell him what she suspects.
She keeps her words as light as she can, tells him stories that she hopes will make him smile if he cannot laugh.
She finally tells him that the maids are serving dinner to the family regularly now. His last letter had been too melancholy, he is thinking too much and this will give him something to bluster about.
She closes her letter just before it is time to ring the dinner gong. She will not tell him yet that she has started to serve too.
She wants to distract him from dark thoughts, she does not want to push him over the edge.