Chapter 32 – A Jar Full of Love
A/N: I am slightly traumatized from the last two chapters, so this one is filled with joy, to the brim. ~CeeCee
May, 1927
Elsie arrived at Yew Tree Farm right after dawn had stained the skies pink and orange, the morning dew still shimmering on each blade of grass. It was going to be a beautiful day, she could feel it. A perfect day for a wedding. She hurried through the farmyard, past the prize-winning pigs, who were snorting excitedly in anticipation of breakfast. Before she could reach the door to the farmhouse, Andrew's strong, gangly frame stepped around from behind the barn, each hand clutching a filled-to-the-brim slop bucket.
"Ah, Andy! The groom himself. A good morning to you, and the whole day through," she grinned at him. He was a kind, hardworking lad, and a good match for Daisy. "They've got ye workin' before dawn on your weddin' day?"
"If you think I'm working hard, Mrs. Hughes, wait 'til you see Mrs. M in there; she's not stopped moving, I think, in a week, at least," he grinned, rolled his eyes.
"Well, I'm here to help, lest she collapse before the big moment," she laughed, shaking her head. Beryl Mason, by any name, was certain to be a whirling dervish of nerves, love, potential outbursts and delicious food for the duration of the day. "Where are you getting ready? Ye can't come inside, lest ye see Daisy before this afternoon; its bad luck!"
"At Downton. Last day in the staff quarters," he grinned hugely, then flushed bright red.
"Go on with you now. Get your work done, and get yourself presentable. By the look of those pigs, you'll need some time for it," she shooed him away, chuckling, distracting him from his embarrassment.
She hurried across the yard and walked into one-woman chaos.
Beryl was standing at the stove, muttering angrily to herself. Every burner was covered with a simmering pot or pan; a beautiful, simple wedding cake, decorated with several delicate sugar flowers, was resting on the sideboard.
"Good morning," Elsie began, taking her jacket off and grabbing a spare apron. "I'm here to help, as promised. Though you seem to have everything under control…?"
"Ah! Thank goodness, Mrs. Hughes. Finally, someone with sense, unlike anyone else in this house," she huffed, slammed down a wooden spoon, sending a spray of some unidentifiable sauce flying. Elsie held in her laughter; it wouldn't do to get her friend more riled up than she already was.
Suddenly a distraction appeared in the form of Mr. Mason. "Ah, good morning, Mrs. Carson! What a lovely day it 'tis, don't you think?"
"A good morning, you say, until it all falls apart and nothing gets finished," Beryl turned to her husband, brandishing the spoon.
He seemed entirely unfazed, leaning over to plant a hearty kiss on her cheek. "That it is, my dear. The children are getting married today, there's only good, and even more good, still, to come out of that. Don't be fussed about the little things."
Everything about Beryl Mason deflated into happy acquiescence at his words. It was so sudden a shift that Elsie could hardly account for it. "Go on with you, Albert. You'd like some coffee, then?" She busied herself fixing him a large mug as he watched her appreciatively. She poured Elsie a cup of tea, strong, with milk, and one for herself too. They stood there, in a brief moment of calm, sipping their drinks. Elsie thought to herself how funny love was, how transformative.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes!" Daisy stood in the doorway that led to the back of the house, dressed in a simple housecoat. She looked happy and flushed, as she whispered, "Andy's outside, feedin' the pigs, is he? I don't want him to see me!"
The trio of them nodded, grinned at each other like schoolchildren. Beryl bustled over to the girl, pushing her down into a seat at the kitchen table, and placing an enormous plate of food in front of her.
"Mrs. Patmore, I'll never eat alla that! Not in two lifetimes!"
"You will eat it all, as we don't want yeh to keel over from starvation before the ceremony," she replied in a tone that wasn't to be challenged, as she turned back to the stove. Daisy merely stared wide-eyed at her, then glanced over at Elsie and Mr. Mason for help.
In a deft move, Mr. Mason walked over to Daisy, kissed her on the head, and snuck two pieces of toast and a sausage into his coat pocket. "I best assist the groom with the morning chores, so he can be on his way. I will see you later today, my dears, Mrs. Carson," he put his cap on with a nod and a smile, and went out into the yard.
Daisy gazed after him with real love on her face, digging into the other sausage. She turned back to Elsie, who couldn't help but laugh herself. Daisy choked a little, took a sip of tea.
"Are you ready, then, Daisy?"
"I don' actually know, Mrs. Hughes. Andy's awfully kind and thoughtful, isn't he? Hard-working, too, 'e is, and cleverer than he thinks. Imagine! Learnin' to read, from nothin', inna year? Mr. Molesley says he's quite keen," she grinned, looking very proud of her betrothed.
"And quite handsome, as any worthy young man ought to be," Beryl turned from the stove, shooting a crooked grin in Elsie's direction as she handed her a gigantic pot of who-knows-what, "Put that over there, for now, on the table past the cake. Mind it goes on the trivet. Ooh, ho, what an odd feeling it is, orderin' you around, Mrs. Hughes!" Elsie took the pot willingly, rolling her eyes.
"He is quite good-looking, isn't he? Andy, I mean? The way 'is hair sort of curls over 'is forehead, a little…" she trailed off, a small smile on her face, took another bite of her breakfast. The older women caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing.
Daisy's reverie broke, and her cheeks flushed deep pink.
"You sound perfectly ready to me, Daisy, and good on yeh, my girl," Beryl's voice broke a little on the last few words, and she leaned over and kissed her surrogate daughter in nearly the same spot her husband had a few minutes before. Elsie swiped a tear from her cheek, but didn't mind it much.
"Let's get to work, now, yeh hear?" Beryl was wiping her own cheeks dry on her apron.
It was going to be a beautiful day, alright.
oooOOOooo
Charlie arrived at Yew Tree Farm in the late morning, entering the happy, frenetic rushing back and forth that he so loved about large events; the long picnic tables with mismatched plates and the wildflower bower were a far cry from anything he'd overseen at Downton, but there was always something life-affirming about the gathering of people in celebration, and he'd known Daisy since she was little more than a girl.
He walked through the yard towards the house, and ran into Anna heading in the opposite direction.
"Good morning, Mr. Carson! Looks like a fine day for wedding, doesn't it?" She grinned at him, her face slightly rounded from her pregnancy. The Bateses were expecting their second child at the end of the summer.
"Indeed it does, Anna. Where are you off to, then?"
"Going to nick some flowers from the tables – we need a few more for Daisy's hair. Miss Baxter is helping her with her dress and jewelry right now. We finally got Mrs. Patmore out of the kitchen about a half hour ago, so she'd be presentable for the ceremony, but only after Mrs. Hughes swore up and down she'd everything under control in the kitchen. Not a word that she's in there minding Will right now," she smiled and patted him on the arm and walked purposefully away across the yard.
He walked into the farmhouse and grinned at the sight that met him. Elsie, be-aproned and hair escaping its pins, surrounded by platters loaded down with food, pots steaming on the stove, and tiny Will Bates in her arms. She was singing to the small boy:
"A frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigh ho! says Rowley,
A frog he would a-wooing go,
Whether his mother would let him or no.
With a Rowley,
Powley…."
She spun the boy around, dipped him upside down and back up, so his dark hair went flying, and he shrieked with delight, patting her cheeks.
"A'gin, a'gin!"
"Aren't you supposed to be keeping things under control here?" He said, with mock sternness.
"Oh, look, wee Will! It's Mr. Froggie, coming a-wooing!"
He raised his eyebrow at her.
"Fooooggg!" Shouted Will, and pointed at him. "Fogggieee! A'gin!"
"Well? You are the expert, from a long times past, if memory serves," she proffered the baby at him. They both glanced at his right hand, which, while it hadn't gotten worse in a long while, wasn't exactly still and steady, ever. She smiled gently and nestled the little boy in the crook of his steady arm, keeping her hand on the baby's bottom. "Together, then?"
And he lifted the tyke way up, high, higher, with Elsie supporting him – them – and the child giggled with glee and delight. "Foooggiee!'
"A-wooing, indeed," he said, leaned down, and gave her a quick but thorough kiss.
"You're getting rather bold in your old age, Mr. Carson."
"Whom are you calling 'old' Mrs. Hughes?"
Anna walked in, with a bunch of pink and white flowers in her hands. She grinned up at her son, perched atop Charlie's shoulder. "Look who's way up there!"
"Foggie, Mum! A'gin! A'gin!" Anna grabbed his foot and tickled it, turned to Elsie.
"Mrs. Hughes, I do believe you best be getting dressed, unless you're planning on making a daring fashion statement at the wedding," Anna's eyes were twinkling.
"Dear me, is that the time? Quite right, Anna. We'll leave Will in the capable hands of Mr. Carson, shall we?" The two ladies smiled at the pair of them and disappeared further into the house.
"It's just we gentlemen, then, Master William." He looked seriously at the small boy.
The baby put his hand on Charlie's tie, patted it. "A-woo, Foggie. A'gin."
"I suppose you're right, at that, m'boy."
oooOOOooo
The two young people were wed, under a bower of flowers and a canopy of trees, their joy infusing all of those around them. Elsie and Albert Mason nearly had to hold his wife upright during the ceremony, but Beryl made it through only using about five handkerchiefs for the duration.
And just as they were all moving to the long tables to eat, something of a surprise: Andy waved his hands to everyone for attention, and the crowd stopped to attend to the groom, who was blushing from his chin to the tips of ears.
"Thank you, everyone, for being here today. I am no speaker, a'tall. I am a footman, soon to be a farmer," he paused, as the crowd cheered their encouragement. "I've something I'd like to read, to Daisy – to my wife," he grew redder, if that was possible, as he snuck a glance at the woman in question, who smiled contentedly up at him. "But I first need to thank a few people, if you'll bear with me. Most importantly, Mr. & Mrs. M, Mason, that is," another cheer went up, and Elsie handed her last dry handkerchief to her friend, as Albert put his arm around his wife's shoulder, grinning broadly. "We'd never be here without you."
"And then, I said I'd be readin' something here today, for Daisy. But I'd not have been able to do that without three other people. So, another thank you goes out to Mr. Molesley and Mr. Barrow, for the teaching of it, and Mr. Carson, helping me select the right words. So this is," he paused, cleared his throat again, and unfolded a pocket-worn piece of paper. Elsie could see his hand was shaking, a little. "This is Sonnet 116, by William Shakespeare,
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken…"
Elsie leaned over to Charlie, whispered. "Ye never said ye were helpin' Andy with this declaration of love," she grinned up at him.
"Well, some things can still be a surprise, can they not?" He grinned back.
"This certainly classifies. Who knew you were so well versed on love poetry?"
"Again, some things are better as surprises."
"Ye've never read me love poetry," she said teasingly.
"No, I've not, I am ashamed to say," he responded, then continued, a gleam in his eye. "However, if you are very lucky, I may sing you another chorus of 'Frog Has Gone A-Wooing' before the night is through."
"How romantic," she swatted his arm, bit back laughter. She meant it.