Part Four

1

Elsie rolled over with an audible groan, tugging her cocoon of sheets with her. Anna had brought her toast and tea at breakfast time but she had found herself unable to eat more than a few mouthfuls. Her throat was sore, and if that had been all she might have been able to get up for a while. As it was she tried, much to Anna's amusement, landing back on the mattress with a thud. That was where she had pretty much stayed since. Briefly she had tried to read but her head hurt and the words swam before her eyes so she had relegated the book with as much force as she could muster to the floor. Sleep had seemed a logical next step but the clock on her night stand counted down the hours as she tried unsuccessfully to close her eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. So she was tired, and a little bored and frustrated if the truth be told, and lonely.

Mr Carson had promised to call on her after lunch but lunch had finished nearly two hours before and there was still no sign of him. She had found herself patiently watching the door, hoping he would appear. Now she was slightly annoyed although she had no right to be. He had a busy household to run, not made any easier by her not being there. Elsie rolled over again, her back now to the door, the covers tossed aside as she felt a surge of heat through her body. Seconds later she shivered and pulled them back over her. The hand on the clock moved another minute.

2

The day was getting beyond his control and his frustration was growing. He hadn't really had chance to catch his breath since breakfast and now he was sat in his pantry discussing china and menus with Anna. At that point he couldn't particularly care less about the merits of rose patterned dinner plates and the intricacies of egg custard. He had been looking forward to a quiet cup of tea with his best friend all day and the longer he spent with Anna the more likely it was that he would be heading straight up to serve dinner. He ran a hand over his forehead and glanced up.

Anna was staring at him, her head tilted to one side and he knew then that his mind had been wandering for some time.

"I'm sorry, Anna, what was that?" he asked, trying to feign interest.

"They are predicting more snow in the next few days. I thought if it holds through tomorrow we might beat the rugs. Who knows when we might get another chance," she finished, wondering if the rugs were up to the level of frustration she needed to vent.

Charles glanced at the ledger on his desk and back at the face of the young maid. "That sounds fine. Could you get someone to give the red room a thorough going over too?"

"Of course, Mr Carson."

There were things that he excelled at, things it seemed he was born to do, but there were other things that bewildered him, that he felt completely inept at. Which is why his housekeeper complimented him so well. As he stared at the young girl who must, he assumed, be going through a hell no one should have to suffer, he wished for Elsie's grace. "Why don't you get yourself some tea before you fall down."

"I'm fine," she said in a rush, hoping he hadn't caught the yawn she had tried to stifle.

The last thing she was was fine he knew but it was a testimony to her professionalism that she said it. "Well I'm going to get some and maybe take some up to Mrs Hughes." He rose to his feet, signalling that they were finished for the time being.

"Would you like me to have someone clean your room, Mr Carson?" she asked as they made their way towards the door. "I can do it myself if you would prefer."

He came to a halt and turned to face her, a little exasperated at her enthusiasm. As much as he aspired to be the best at his job, he had over time, with a little cajoling, learned when to take a break. The same could not be said for the Head Housemaid. " Anna, go have some tea, take a break." Lightly he squeezed her arm, surprising himself as much as her. "You are doing a fine job. Mrs Hughes has trained you well." He gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about my room, it can wait a few days. You have far too much to do."

Anna nodded, her brow furrowing as she contemplated how long it would take to change his bed and sweep his floor. She decided she had time before dinner. As she stepped into the corridor she hesitated, debating whether it was the right moment to ask what had been bothering her all day.

"Was there something else?" he asked, his tone lacking in patience.

"No, well, yes. Tomorrow was going to be my half day. I was going to see Mr Bates. But under the circumstances I can go another time . . . ," she trailed off, taken aback when he gave her a warm smile.

"If no one else is off and the work is done it might be a possibility. I need to check that the family won't be having guests. Let me consider it and get back to you," he said softly. He wasn't sure why he had said that. It was impractical for her to be out of the house when the housekeeper was laid up. Charles stepped out into the hallway to call after all and tell her no, but a nagging voice in his head, one that strangely chided him in a Scottish brogue, told him to let her go. He rubbed his eyes wearily with his hand and wondered when she had found her way into his head.

3

Charles climbed the stairs slowly, balancing the tray on one arm as he held onto the bannister with the other. At the top of each flight he briefly rested, taking a breath and moving the tray to the other arm but by the time he reached the attic he was out of breath. Composing himself, he made his way along the female corridor towards her room. Her door was closed and he knocked lightly, before stepping over the threshold.

Her back was to the door and for a minute he thought she might be asleep, his heart sinking a little at the prospect. Then he heard her voice.

"Mr Carson," she rasped.

"Sorry. I meant to come earlier but . . ." he trailed off, not really wanting to offer her excuses.

"You must be busy," she acknowledged as he rearranged the side table and placed the tray down. Gently she rolled over onto her back, wincing as pain seared through her body.

"Not too busy to pay you a call," Charles admonished, distracted by making tea and failing to notice her distress. "Although things do seem to conspire against me. Tea?"

She nodded, swallowing hard. "I don't want to keep you from something more pressing," she offered hoarsely, her voice barely a whisper.

"You aren't." He lifted the teapot and filled her cup, adding a little milk before handing it to her.

"Thank you."

"Are you getting enough fluids?" he asked, leaning in to get a better look at her. She looked paler than the previous night, if that was possible, and he could barely hear her. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little," she lied. In truth she felt like death warmed up but she wasn't about to tell him that. "I just want to sleep all the time."

"Rest is the body's way of healing." He began to rise, concern for her health overriding his desire to spend time with her. "Maybe I should go."

His eyes darted to her hand as she reached out and covered his. Her skin was almost translucent, her hand so small against his, her fingers lightly massaging his knuckles. "Stay," she pleaded and he had to lean closer to hear her. Charles nodded, his eyes still focused on their hands.

"I'm so bored," she grumbled. "Lying in bed while everyone else is running ragged." Elsie knew that she should move her hand before it became uncomfortable, or worse still that someone saw them, but she didn't want to. "How is everything downstairs?"

"Anna has everything under control." He realised he'd said the wrong thing when she furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. "She is making sure the work is done. Keeping her eye on the girls. Checking in on me." He noted with amusement that she smiled. At first he hadn't realised what Elsie was up to, considering her visits to be purely casual, but as they got more frequent, her appearances more timed, he realised that she was keeping an eye on him. Since his collapse there had hardly been a night she hadn't appeared in his pantry. "I have the store ledger, and everything else can wait until you're back on your feet."

"You haven't given Mrs Patmore the store key," Elsie asked, her body tensing.

"No, Anna made sure I have it."

She relaxed against the pillow. "Is she alright?"

"Mrs Hughes," he groaned, wondering when it was that they had become de-facto parents for the younger members of staff. "She's been trained for this."

"That's not what I meant."

He knew exactly what she meant but he wasn't the girls father and he didn't have her sentimentality. "She's fine. Lady Mary and Mrs Crawley are keeping an eye out for her."

"She's been so sweet, despite everything." Damn it, she was going to cry and she could only imagine his reaction to her blubbering all over him.

"They don't blame you, I'm sure." Charles looked away. If she started to cry he would want to comfort her and that would only embarrass them both, better that he feigned ignorance. "Drink your tea." He took a sip of his own brew. "She asked me just now if she could take her half day tomorrow. I said I would think about it."

"You should let her go."

"We are already two down," he protested weakly.

She patted his hand. "Put yourself in her shoes. I know if it was me and I had only days left with the man I loved, I would want to spend every second I could with him. If Mr Murray fails she might not have many more afternoons. . . "

"I shouldn't be bothering you with this," he acknowledged as she winced in pain.

"Charles," she rasped. His eyes met hers and she knew this was one argument she would win.

"Yes." He didn't elaborate, he didn't need to. All the while Elsie was sick in bed and getting worse by the minute he was faced with the prospect of a life without her. Her absence downstairs had given him cause for thought, jolted him into facing up to the truth that time was running out for them. The fact Anna was so young and could love again didn't change that.

She took a small sip of cold tea and started coughing.

Gently he took the cup from her hands and placed it on the night stand. "I don't like the sound of that cough."

"I'm fine," she said firmly once the coughing fit had subsided.

"I'll ask his Lordship to get Dr Clarkson to come over."

"You will not!" she exclaimed with as much strength as she could muster.

"Mrs Hughes."

"Mr Carson," she responded.

He threw his hands up in surrender. "I'll get one of the maids to check on you before dinner and bring you up something."

"Thank you," she said, her voice much softer.

He picked up the tea tray and headed towards the door. With his hand on the door handle he turned to look back at her. "Get some sleep."

"Yes, Mr Carson," she said with a smile, turning over as he closed the door behind him.

4

Carson entered the library and announced his presence. "M'Lord, you rang."

"Ah, Carson, Anna tells me Mrs Hughes is not getting any better," the Earl of Grantham explained, turning from his desk. "She seemed worried."

"She does seem to be getting worse, M'Lord."

"Would you like me to phone Doctor Clarkson?"

Charles shuffled nervously, avoiding eye contact with his master.

"Is there a problem, Carson?"

"I do not think she would appreciate his visit," Carson offered finally, unsure how to deal with the situation.

The Earl nodded, twenty plus years of marriage under his belt. "In that case you may tell her that it was my decision to call the doctor." He furrowed his brow as he considered something. "We can tell her that we were worried about it spreading through the household."

Either way, Charles knew he would somehow get the blame."Very good, M'Lord." He moved to make his discreet exit.

"Carson."

He stopped in his tracks, swivelling to face him once again.

"Let Mrs Hughes know we're all thinking of her when you next visit." Although it had only been twenty-four hours since she had taken to her bed her absence was already being noticed. Mrs Hughes ran the house with a formidable grace, quietly, efficiently and with little fuss. The house and Mr Carson seemed strangely unbalanced without her daily presence. Robert liked calm and normality. He was also fond of the Scot and dry sense of humour.

Carson retreated from the room, an apology to Elsie already forming in his mind. As he returned to his work he found himself lost in the flurry of activity below stairs. It was only later as he was checking on the silver for dinner that he remembered his Lordship's parting comment – when you next visit – and the knowing smile he had given when he made it.

5

"I'm going to be gone all tomorrow afternoon," Anna declared as she leaned over the bed, tucking in the corners of the blanket.

"I know."

"Will you be alright?"

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Of course. All I do is sleep."

Anna removed the jug of water from the night stand and replaced it with a fresh one."I'll make sure to bring you lunch, fresh water and a Beachams powder before I leave."

"Don't fuss, Anna, I'll be fine for one afternoon." she chided, closing her eyes as the room spun before her. "Please give him my l . . . Regards." Love was such a hard word to use even now. She had spent so long trying to forget about love that she no longer allowed herself to feel it in any context, reverting to fondness and respect for those that merited it. "I'm very fond of him." Tears pricked at her eyes and she squeezed the bridge of her nose to stop them flowing over her cheeks.

"I know. I think he's very fond of you too." Anna gave a shy smile. "I'll make sure I check on you when I get back."

6

Anna opened the door and turned on the small side lamp on the dresser before crossing the room to the patient. "If she's sleeping maybe we should leave her be," she said, glancing down at the small blanket wrapped bundle. It had been barely an hour since she had left the room and now she was back with the doctor in tow.

Elsie opened her eyes, adjusting uncomfortably to the sudden light, shifting position so that she could see who was speaking.

"Mrs Hughes, it's Dr Clarkson," he announced moving closer to the bed. He could see instantly that she looked worse than the call had suggested.

"I told him not to call you," she complained hoarsely, barely recognising her own voice.

The doctor pulled the arm chair closer to the bed and sat down. "His Lordship was concerned for you."

She tried and failed to sit up, landing unceremoniously back on the pillow, the ache in her back causing her to grimace.

Gently he took her wrist in his hand and felt for her pulse. After a few seconds of massaging he finally found a faint beat, concerned he felt for her forehead. "You seem to have a fever," he said mildly, trying to keep his voice calm.

"I have influenza," she said firmly, struggling to keep her eyes open. She had been sick before but she had never felt so tired, her body seeming to shut down after the slightest of exertion.

"Have you been coughing? Vomiting?" He continued to question her, his hand gently touching hers, making assessments as he went. "Headache? Any delirium?" It was a stupid question but he needed to ask it.

She nodded mutely, her eyes drifting closed as the world spun on it's axis.

Moving until he was leaning over her, he lifted her eyelids gently, not liking what he saw. He turned to the young maid in the door frame. "Anna, isn't it?" At her nod he continued in a professional tone. "She needs cool wet towels, and a cool bath if you can manage it, plenty of fluids and plenty of rest. Give her aspirin six hourly if she can keep it down. Get his Lordship to call me if she gets any worse. I would move her to the hospital but she would probably be more comfortable here."

Anna's eyes widened, "It's not . . . ?" she trailed off, not really wanting to voice her fear. The housekeeper was clearly sick, just how sick she hadn't been aware until a few minutes before. It didn't bare thinking about. Her thoughts sprung to how angry she had been with Mrs Hughes on the day of the trial and she quietly berated herself.

"She has influenza, and a nasty case of it," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he glanced back at the bed. "I'll organise some medicine and you'll need to see she gets it."

"Oh course, Doctor."

"I'll be fine in a few days," the rather restless patient mumbled, throwing the covers off of her as her temperature soared.

Dr Clarkson turned away, giving her some resemblance of modesty. "I'm sure you will, Mrs Hughes, in the meantime Anna will take care of you and I'll be back tomorrow." He patted her hand and walked towards the door, ignoring her protests. "Go back to sleep."

6

The Earl and his butler were waiting at the bottom of the stairs as the doctor made his way down. He inwardly groaned and fixed a smile on his lips.

"Dr Clarkson. How is she?"

Although it was the Earl who asked, he couldn't help but notice the Butler's incessant fidgeting and look of consternation on his face. He addressed them both. "She has a strain of influenza. She's very sick. As I said to your maid I would move her to the hospital but she's better off resting in her own bed. I'll be back to check on her tomorrow and I've left Anna will instructions for her care."

"Is it Spanish flu?" Carson asked, suddenly a little scared. While he had been struck down with a mild dose the previous year, he knew the devastation the illness could cause. He couldn't bear to think of her suffering in that way.

He shook his head. "I don't think so. But she's been under a little strain lately, hasn't she, so the virus may have worn down her immune system. I've left some medication but what she needs is plenty of rest."

"She'll get it. Carson, you'll make sure of it?"

"Yes M'Lord," Charles said perfunctory. Elsie would get anything and everything she needed. He would make sure she was taken care of even if it meant doing it himself. She would do no less for him, and had on numerous occasions.

"I'll come by tomorrow," Dr Clarkson said, gathering his coat. "But call me if there is any change."