Charles had woken up in a dark cloud of a mood that was proving hard to shift, if he'd even wanted it to. He wasn't prone to feeling sorry for himself but this morning it suited him quite well to grumble and groan his way through the morning chores despite there being no one to listen to him. Why must it be such a task to bed one's own wife, he'd muttered incoherently to himself as he'd collected the hamper and blankets from the dinghy. It was his right as a married man...no, he corrected himself, not his right, his privilege. More than that, he mused. With Elsie it was divinity itself, his absolute pleasure that she should even entertain the idea of being wooed by him. And she did, my goodness she did. And that's what made it all so very much more frustrating. He knew what wonders lay waiting for him in the marriage bed if he could just get her there and, he admitted remorsefully, stay awake.
The required second trip to the lake, to collect the chairs and table this time, was more tiresome than the first. It had taken three trips the previous day but only because he'd forgotten one or two things. He'd had a fanciful motion that they'd walk back there today during her midday dinner break, delight in the romance of the setting, steal a few kisses in the sunshine before she'd have to head back. But she wouldn't be able to escape the house today, Mr Bates' knee had put pay to that. They'd be too short without him and Anna. Not that he blamed him of course, it was just that the timing was just so unfortunate. However there was little to be done now other than wallow in his misery and so wallow he would.
This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, Elsie muttered to herself as she rushed away from the Abbey. Some weeks it felt like that's all she did, walk up and down this blasted path and this was certainly one of them. She'd be pulling tiny pieces of gravel out of her shoes yet again this evening. Or perhaps not, she mused, a curl of a smile on her lips as she let herself consider what far more tempting activities might be available to entertain her. But it was all so silly. She wasn't a slip of girl off to meet her beaux, but why then did she feel so excited? Because she knew, knew what it was to be a wife. Yes, he had opinions, left his socks on the floor, forgot to rinse the bowl after he'd shaved. But he also rubbed her feet when they were sore, let her steal the bedcovers from him in the night, and made her feel like the most desirous of women when they were finally alone in the dark.
She thought he'd probably be back from the Bates' by now and out in the garden, tugging out weeds and bemoaning the greenfly on his roses. Perhaps she'd be able to sneak quietly upstairs and change, freshen up a little before surprising him. She felt warm just daring to think about it. She had lived without this for so long, pushed any thought of it from her mind that it wasn't for her. Over the years she'd heard certain terms to describe what she supposed she'd been, some of the coarser hall boys sniggering in the corner using words that didn't bear repeating. At the time she'd accepted it, a spinster in a position of responsibility, but now she knew better.
Damn and blast, Mr Bates! He was yet to go to check on him and time was getting on. Best get it done now, he considered. It wasn't fair to leave a man stuck on an uncomfortable settee for too long. Once more Charles picked up his hat and set off. He wasn't used to all this walking these days. Gardening had made him stronger, it was physical work, more so that carrying a heavy tray laden with silverware. But it didn't require him to cover so much distance as walking the halls and stairs of the Abbey once had. He thought he'd miss it more than he did, the responsibility, the sense of doing something worthwhile, that was needed. But looking after their cottage combined with the odd village committee were enough he'd found and he felt quite content.
And then there was Elsie. Dearest Elsie who kept him in check like she always had, teased and mocked his silly ways as he deserved, loved him despite his moaning and high opinions. His Elsie who tickled him in the quiet still of the night so he couldn't resist her, bringing her close and holding her. He wasn't an affectionate man but she made him want to touch her in ways he hadn't thought possible. He pushed thoughts of that aside and focused as he approached the Bates' cottage. He shuddered at the inappropriateness of being distracted by thoughts of his wife as he helped an invalid upstairs. It simply wouldn't do.
The lane was blocked by a tractor attempting to turn through one of the narrow gaps in the hedge that ran the length of the lane. It had become caught up in a low overhanging branch and, whilst the farmhand was attempting to free it, it seemed to Elsie to be stuck fast. There wasn't quite the space to walk around it, not wanting to risk ending up in the drainage ditch, and so she was forced to wait. She took a moment to soak up the joy of being free. She always felt like this on her half day, released from the shackles of work, but it was heightened today given how unexpected it was. The kindness shown to her by Anna and Miss Baxter was one of the reasons she'd stayed and made her life here. Not them specifically but the sense of working together, of a shared understanding of what life was. Service could be a lonely beast. Less so than it used to be perhaps and not because she was now married and living away from the Abbey, but generally. She'd lived the gradual lifting of strict rules as to what could be tolerated. Times had changed, that was for certain.
The tractor eventually passed and allowed her to continue. She was almost there now, the gable just visible. Charles was going to be a problem, she acknowledged. On seeing her his brow was going to crease in confusion, then it was going to lift in judgement as he began to understand, and finally he'd be simply cross that the system had been manipulated. Oh yes, her Charlie was one thing but Mr Carson was never far away, not really. As she reached to push open the door she took a deep breath and whether it was to calm her nervous anticipation of steel herself against the looming argument she really couldn't say.
Although not prone to discord between them Charles thought that he and Mr Bates had rarely been in such close agreement that his visit had been a complete waste of time and energy. He'd let himself in and found a fairly cheerful Bates sitting up, his legs propped up, a newspaper by his side. Anna had left him a veritable feast on a tray, more than enough to last the day, and a stack of books for entertainment. He'd needed some assistance to stand but after that he'd managed quite well at getting himself up the stairs. Too many years of pain and discomfort not just to grin and bear it, he'd said as he'd taken one step at a time, before reaching the bedroom and collapsing elegantly enough in it. Charles had fetched the food and books and after a few minutes of pleasantries he made his excuses.
The walk back home was enjoyable enough and with the key tasks accomplished he could consider how to use the rest of the day, essentially counting down the minutes until Elsie returned. Not gardening, he concluded, he'd had enough of that for the time being. Perhaps a bath and then a short nap. A little indulgent but it had been a late night and he didn't want to risk a badly timed slumber later. And then refreshed he could whip the duster round and start the supper, see if he couldn't recreate the mood of the previous evening in hopes that the spark that had been ignited could finally burst into flame.
Of course he wasn't there. Had she really expected him to be? He didn't sit around waiting for her all day. He did things. Cleaned, tidied, went to the village for provisions, attended meetings, chatted to the neighbours. She couldn't pretend she wasn't disappointed. For all of her fantasies about surprising him in her best dress, her hair unpinned just as he liked, mostly she'd wanted to feel his strong arms around her. That was all, not much really.
Elsie went through the motion of removing her hat and shoes, putting them away neatly in the little cupboard in the hall. His bowler was missing, she noticed, so that ruled out Mr Barnes next door. He rarely bothered when he popped over to enjoy an afternoon glass of beer, the two men putting the world to rights. The kitchen looked as it had that morning although the washing up had been done at least and the back door firmly shut. She didn't bother with the sitting room, he was never in there. The stairs creaked as she made her way up and as she entered their room the sight of the bed brought on a wave of exhaustion. She'd been fighting it but now it consumed her. Just a little lie down, she thought. He'd wake her when he returned and then, rejuvenated, they could enjoy one another all the better.
Maybe a nap was too much, Charles thought, entering the cottage. What if he overslept and missed her when she came home? That wouldn't do at all. No, a cup of tea out in the garden would be enough. He'd been tired before and he'd be tired again, he reasoned. He'd come through worse fatigue than this and never by accepting defeat.
The cottage was quiet as he entered. Depositing his jacket over a dining table chair, his hat casually left on the table, he put the kettle on boil and laid a tea tray ready. He opened the back door, a rush of fresh air filling the kitchen which had got stuffy as the warmth of the day had built. He breathed deeply, the scent of the cut flower bed reaching his nostrils. He was pleased with how that area of the garden was progressing. It seemed to attract so many bees and butterflies. Maybe a hive would serve well as his next project, he pondered, imagining presenting his own honey to Mrs Patmore. Now that would give her pause for thought, he didn't wonder. His attention back on the kettle he caught it before it let off its shrill call that it had boiled and before too long was comfortably seated on the painted bench, the tray alongside. This is the life he thought, casting his eye over his pride and joy once more. His head tilted up, he marvelled at the clear blue sky above, the sound of the gentle breeze in the trees beyond the fence, and couldn't help but close his eyes, just for a moment.
Oh, sleepy Carsons…but, fear not, soon they will awake…
I tried something different with the writing of this chapter. I hope it worked.