A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Thea Gilmore is recommended.
I'll Remember You
Sunday, August 3, 1913 on
Over the next few days Mary started to be bothered by the behaviour of her family towards her. They were not warm and welcoming towards her but neither were they cold and distant. They were reserved. They did not talk with her, they would exchange a few pleasantries with her but then they would remember a pressing appointment elsewhere.
Just for the sport of it she tried to pick a fight with Edith but Edith walked away as if she were not even there. Sybil would not talk to her all, the most she had gotten out of her was an angry 'how could you?' tossed over her shoulder by Sybil as she stalked off down the hall.
Her father acted as Mary were a ghost, acknowledging her existence, but acting as if ignoring her would somehow kept him safe from whatever bad luck she represented. Her mother at least enquired every day after Mary's health and saw that her every need was met, but even she did not make any effort to connect with Mary. After a lifetime of trying to keep Mary on a tight rein it seemed as if her mother had turned her out to pasture and was now content to watch to her from the paddock gate.
Her family below stairs was both better and worse. Carson, her doting uncle in every way except lineage, was ebullient. That is, to the extent that his impassive butlertorial visage would allow. It was 'Lady Mary this' and 'Lady Mary that'; whatever Lady Mary wanted that was in his power to bestow was hers. She could bask in his adoration. Not so with Anna.
It appeared that Mary had lost Anna's friendship. They did not chat. Anna did not offer her opinion on which outfit to wear. She did not stray beyond the boundaries of her role as a servant. It was all 'Yes, my lady', "No, my lady', 'Will that be all my lady?'. When asked a direct question about anything other than the strict mechanics of her employment she would just answer 'It is not my place my lady'.
When her grandmother came to dinner Mary thought she would at last be able to talk to someone. Then, looking across the dining table and seeing her grandmother giving her a cold appraisal, Mary had an epiphany. Her family were treating her the way they treated her grandmother's cat, Turandot. They were all frightened of her. They thought she would blow up and hurt them. But they were also angry with her. Why?
As soon as the ladies had left Robert to his solitary cigar and glass of port and passed through to the drawing room Mary sought out her grandmother.
Without preamble she asked "Why is everyone scared of me? And why are they angry with me?"
"Ask Matthew" was Violet's answer.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean Matthew can answer both those questions for you."
"But he isn't here"
"That is not my problem, it is yours"
Mary had had enough. Pleading tiredness she went to bed.
Matthew. During her waking hours, while she was alert, she did not speak of him, no one mentioned him to her. Matthew was no more than an irritation to her; the cause of all that afflicted her but now safely gone from her life. But. If her mind wandered, if her back ached and she thought of how nice it would be to have someone rub it for her, it was Matthew. Trying to read she found that it was Matthew's voice reading the book to her. Laying back in the warm water of her bath she closed her eyes and it was Matthew washing between her toes.
And each night she slept with Matthew. The good dreams were all different. Different to the extent that they took place in various domestic situations, some involving six children, a number she found extraordinary, but they all ended with Matthew and her making love in one way or another. She slept well after those dreams. The bad dreams were all the same: she told Matthew off, sometimes screaming, sometimes in cold clipped tones, and he left her. And she never saw him again. Those dreams woke her up.
Mary finally decided that things could not go on as they were and she started to piece together the details of her hospital stay.
Dr. Clarkson was a fount of information for he was not a party to the conspiracy of the silence that surrounded her in the Great House. He called in to take her temperature, check her pulse and generally confirm she was well on the road to recovery. As he was putting his paraphernalia back in his bag he recommended that she do some walking, to get some muscle tone.
"Doctor, I am remiss in not thanking you for saving my life" Mary gave him her most gracious smile.
Dr. Clarkson allowed himself to bask for a brief moment in the glow of that smile, never before bestowed on him, but then he confessed "As much I would like to claim the credit, I cannot. Your situation was beyond anything medicine could do for you; no, you should give credit to those who prayed for you"
"Come now Doctor, are you, as a man of science, saying I was saved by a divine miracle?"
"If you define a divine miracle as something that happens which is inexplicable, yes." Dr. Clarkson nodded at her "I must be off Lady Mary, please remember to do some walking". As he was leaving the room, he turned back to her. He had been primed to say what he was about to say by Isobel. "If you don't like that explanation you might consider the power of love"
"Love?"
"In all my practice I have never seen such fierce love and devotion as your young man showed you. It may be that he was only thing keeping you from boarding Charon's ferry." Although Isobel had wanted him to say this to Mary he believed it. He would have given a thousand to one odds to anyone betting Lady Mary was going to recover.
"Thank you Doctor, I will tell him you said so"
He nodded to her and left. He smiled to himself, he knew she had driven Matthew off, it would be awhile before she told Matthew anything.
-0-
That night when Anna was helping her get ready for bed Mary decided to get the whole storey.
"Anna please sit down"
Anna sat on the edge of the bed.
"I want you to tell me everything that happened at the hospital from the moment Matthew first came."
"It is not my place my lady"
"Anna don't give me any of that crap!"
Anna put her hand to her mouth. "My lady!"
"Anna you are my friend. I know you are angry with me. Everyone is angry with me. I want to know why."
Anna sighed and nodded. "Well my Lady you had been in the hospital for about a week. Your fever was getting worse and worse and there didn't seem to be anything they can do. Your mind started..."
"Yes I know, I was quite mad. Go on"
"Anyway about two days before Mr. Crawley came you started talking like you and him were happily married, and he was at work in Ripon and you were waiting for him to come home and you would call out for him and he didn't come and it was really quite pitiful. Then he came and..."
As Anna talked Mary sometimes interrupted her. Usually with short questions along the lines of 'He saw my ..?', 'He touched my...?', "He wiped my...?', 'Where?', "I was that horrid?', 'I said what to him?.'
Finally Anna concluded "The last morning, the one you ... ah.. sent him away, I relieved him about 7:00 a.m., you were still sleeping, he kissed you on the forehead, said 'I'll see you later Sleeping Beauty', and then he left to get breakfast and to shower. Three hours later you woke up and well ... you know the rest."
-0-
"How did the baby come to be named 'Matthew John'?" Mary threw her question into the middle of dinner that night. The question splashed down and the ripples spread out from it touching every member of her family. None of them answered; indeed none of them looked her in the eye. Her sisters did not know and her parents were each worried about how Mary would react if they told her.
"Well?" Mary was imperious. "Someone here must know."
Robert looked at Cora, she gave him the barest hint of a shrug. They both wished Violet was there; she could out Mary, Mary.
"There was not much time when the baby was born" Robert began, watching Mary "and he needed a name in order to be baptized" he paused waiting but Mary just looked at him "and Matthew showed him to you and asked you if you had a name picked out and you told him to name the baby and so he named him 'Matthew John' and you agreed" this last came in a rush as Robert hurried to get it out before Mary blew up.
But she did not, she just asked, in a neutral tone "And why did he pick those names?"
"We don't know" Cora answered.
"No one asked him?" asked Mary.
"No"
"'Matthew' means 'Gift of God' and John means 'God is gracious' so if you put them together the baby's names mean 'Gift of God's grace'"
They all looked at Sybil.
"I looked the meanings up" she explained. "'Grace' means..."
"We all know what 'grace' means, thank you Sybil" Robert told her. He and Cora both looked at Mary.
In the same neutral tone Mary asked "And where is Matthew John now?"
"He is buried in the family plot"
"I would like to go there tomorrow"
"We will take you" said Cora.
Tuesday, August 12, 1913
There was not much to see. Just a small rectangle of disturbed sod with three small bouquets laying on it. Mary sank down to the ground beside the plot.
"We haven't ordered the headstone yet" Robert told her "We wanted to know what you and.. what you wanted on it"
Mary could see the inscription in her mind 'Matthew John Crawley, Beloved son of Matthew and Mary Crawley, July 23, 1913 Forever Young' "I will write it out for you"
Robert and Cora looked at each other. "Certainly" he said.
"Who are the flowers from?" She asked.
"Your father and I; your grandmother and your mother-in-law." answered Cora.
Mary touched the flowers. "There were other flowers, little white flowers, what happened to them?" Mary asked in a very quiet voice.
"There were two wreaths of tiny white lilies and roses. Edith and Sybil brought them." Cora looked at Robert.
"Matthew laid one of them on the coffin and he took one to give to you." Robert finished.
Mary put her hand to her mouth. "I told Anna to throw it away" she remembered.
Robert reached down to help Mary get up.
"Don't fret" Cora said "Cousin Isobel told me she rescued it from Anna and is pressing it under a pile of Matthew's law books."
"I would like to see it"
Robert offered Mary his arm. "Then let us go drop in on Cousin Isobel"
As they walked Cora asked Mary "Do you remember the other flowers?"
Mary thought "No"
"When we laid Matthew John out you insisted that he lay on a bed of flower petals and so we ended up denuding our garden and your grandmother's and Mr. Molesley's"
They walked along in silence for awhile then Mary remembered "He was dressed in something blue"
"Yes" Cora replied "we dressed him in a blue outfit and wrapped him in a blue baby blanket" she sighed "When we let my mother know I was expecting, you as it turned out, she sent us two baby outfits with matching blankets, one blue and other pink. Well you know what happened, we used the pink one three times and saved the blue one, just in case."
Cora was starting to tear up and so Mary stopped and hugged her mother. "Thank you for all you've done." She looked at her father. "Thanks to you both"
When they arrived at Crawley House Mary asked "Do you mind terribly if I see Isobel on my own?"
"No, of course not" said her father. "Look we don't want you to get too tired, how about we send Branson to collect you in an hour's time"
Mary agreed and watched her parents walk away and then she walked up to the door and rang the bell.
Isobel was surprised to see Mary. She had not seen her since the day Mary had sent Matthew away. She was not sure she wanted to see Mary now. But she invited her in anyway.
Once Mary had been plied with the requisite cup of tea Isobel gave her an expectant look.
"I...I.." Mary stammered, it was so unlike her; she did not know what she wanted to say, there was so much she wanted to say, she did not know where to start. "I would like to thank you for all you did for me. I am told I was not the most pleasant of patients."
As to be expected Isobel waved off Mary's thanks with the usual polite responses. Another long silence ensued.
"I would like to see Matthew" Mary said with a calmness that she could feel was starting to slip away from her.
"I don't know where he is"
"But I must thank him.." Mary's voice quavered and then she started to cry "I need him"
Isobel got up and sat beside Mary and hugged her. "There, there dear. I'm sure he'll come back" sooner or later, probably later, Isobel thought, you really put the boots to him. It's going to take a long time for him to forget, and forgive, that kicking.
Mary sniffed and regained her composure. "Mother says you saved the baby's wreath"
"Yes, I'm pressing it. Would you like to see it?"
"Please"
Isobel lead Mary upstairs to Matthew's room. Mary had never been there before. On the desk was a stack of law book and Isobel started moving them aside until she came to a layer of wax paper.. Underneath was the wreath. Mary touched one of the leaves.
"It's not totally dried out yet. When it is I will get it to you." Isobel told her.
Mary nodded her thanks and then started to sway. Isobel steered her over to the bed. "Sit down dear.. I think you've done too much today, it's worn you out." Isobel touched Mary's forehead and then took her pulse. "We don't want a relapse. Why don't you slip out of those clothes and get in bed. I'll find you a nightgown."
"I can't. It wouldn't be proper..."
"...for a wife to sleep in her husband's bed?"
Mary gave her a tired smile. "When you put it that way... I am feeling quite tired."
"Good" Isobel pulled back the covers on the bed while Mary started undressing. Isobel was about to go get one of her nightgowns when a thought struck her. She looked in Matthew's armoire and found his pyjamas from the last time he had worn them. Definitely not recommended from a sanitary point of view, but Matthew didn't have any communicable diseases and he hadn't mentioned any rashes.. it was worth a gamble. She picked them up and threw them to Mary, who was down to her smalls. No corset Isobel noticed with thanks. "Here put these on"
Mary caught the pyjamas and then realized what they were. "I can't..."
"Because?"
Mary couldn't think of any reason why a wife couldn't wear her husband's pyjamas. She shrugged.
"Exactly, now get them on and then crawl into bed. I'll go get you a glass of water."
Mary snuggled into the bed. The room was warm and she was very tired. When she closed her eyes the scent of Matthew enveloped her. She smiled.
When Isobel came back with the water Mary was sound asleep.
A half an hour later, when Branson arrived, he was sent back to the Great House with a message that Mrs. Crawley would be spending the night with her mother-in-law at Crawley House.