Mary is 10, Matthew is 11 in this chapter. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long; back to uni and all the hideous essays that entails... Everyone was so kind with their reviews so I found a moment to write this chapter for you guys, so I hope you enjoy it! And I love to hear what you think, so please R&R :D
Mary paced back and forth in annoyance, scuffing her shoes in the dirt and leaves.
They had agreed to meet at two o'clock today, but here she was, it was gone three and still there was no sign of Matthew. She slumped down to the leafy floor, resting her back against the tree trunk. She pursed her lips in frustration. How dare he forget to come? Did he forget? Maybe he just didn't want to come and see her... of course not! Why wouldn't he?
She wanted to tell him about dinner. Mama had said she could sit with the grownups for dinner today (at last!), instead of with her sisters in the nursery under the eye of their watchful governess. And she had a brand new frock and hair ribbon and...
Ugh! Where was he? He had promised to come. Matthew had promised to come and give her one of the paper boats that all the boys had been making and floating down the river. She had watched enviously from afar as Matthew and all the other boys had floated their little paper boats down the river, cheering their ship on as they raced on the current. Matthew had noticed her watching, a wistful look in her eye and had tactfully offered to make her one and bring it to her today.
Exasperated, Mary hauled herself up, pulling a scrap of paper and a pencil out of her bag. She scrawled Matthew a note, neat handwriting forgotten as her pencil flew angrily across the paper, jabbing out the full stop so hard that it pierced the sheet. She poked a thin, low branch of the tree through her letter to keep it in place and she stormed back to Downton, leaving the angry little note swinging gently back and forth in the breeze.
XxX
Mary twirled in front of the long looking glass, trying to see her new frock from all angles. Her disappointment and anger at Matthew was momentarily forgotten as she admired the way the jet beads sparkled in the candlelight and the red silk seemed to suit her somehow. Edith sat pouting and glaring at her elder sister, whilst Sybil gazed up at Mary with complete adoration.
"So pretty, Mary!" said Sybil, giving Mary a hug. Mary grinned down at her happy little sister, smoothing her hair away from her face.
"Thank you, Sybil darling."
Cora popped her head around the door.
"Mary? It's time to go down. The guests are here!"
Mary took one final admiring glance in the mirror, smoothing down her dress and following her Mama down the stairs. She couldn't believe Mama was going to let her stay up for her first grown up dinner! She tried to pay attention to her Mama telling her the names of the guests that were coming, but Mary was too nervous to take anything much in. As they entered the dining room, her Papa gave her a kiss and whispered to her.
"You look lovely, Mary. So grown up!"
Mary beamed and proudly took her place at the dinner table, feeling a little nervous as she sat with the adults for the first time. Her Mama sat on her right (presumably to keep an eye on her) and to her left sat a man of about her father's age, a Sir Anthony...something or other. Oh well! It wasn't important and besides, he was terribly dull. As the courses kept flowing, perfectly timed by Carson, no one paid too much attention to Mary and for once she was glad not to be the centre of attention. All these grownups! They laughed and chattered about the dullest things! Sir Anthony made a joke about farming and her Mama laughed as though it was the joke of the year! Mary couldn't understand it, but she saw that it pleased Sir Anthony to have amused the Countess. In fact, as she listened to the banal chatter, Mary began to observe that the ladies seemed to be merely making the men feel good about themselves, no matter how poor their jokes! Was this what being a lady was all about? It didn't seem very interesting at all. Apparently her boredom showed in her face, as when she looked towards Carson, solemnly standing to attention by the door, he relaxed his face when no one was looking and gave her a reassuring wink. Mary wanted to giggle desperately, but instead she calmed herself, making her face look placid as she sipped daintily from her water glass, just as Miss Edwards (yet another governess) had taught her. Her ears perked up as she heard a familiar name break into the conversation.
"I was terribly sorry to hear the news about Doctor Crawley, Lord Grantham."
"Ah yes. A terrible business, that. Poor chap couldn't have been more than forty five..."
What could he mean? What was the news about Matthew's father? Nervously, Mary raised her small, clear voice above the adults to ask her Papa;
"Papa, what happened to Doctor Crawley?"
Robert gave a small, sad smile, pausing for a moment whilst considering what to tell his daughter. The guests stopped talking and there was an awkward silence across the table, as the company looked everywhere except at the little girls inquiring face. Her Papa cleared his throat to answer her.
"I'm afraid he passed away last night, Mary," he said, turning away to face the rest of the guests, smiling his affable smile as he added, "but we mustn't upset the ladies with all this talk; shall we go to the library, gentlemen?"
Mary's face blanched as her father imparted the news of Matthew's father's death. Poor Matthew. She had to go and find him, she had to do something. She wanted to run away from this horrid dinner and find him. Mary gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth as she realised something else.
That terrible note. How could she have written it? What if Matthew found it and read it? The idea was incomprehensible, gut wrenching. No wonder he hadn't shown up this afternoon. She had blamed him, but it was her fault. Why had she been so angry? She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, imagining his reaction to her childish, bitter note, her words only making him feel worse. She had to get the note back, destroy it, burn it, do anything to stop him reading it, to stop a fresh source of hurt being piled on him. The image of Matthew's face crumpling in sadness whirled around in her head; her heart ached. She was supposed to be his friend! She was supposed to comfort him at times like this, not to hurt him. What kind of girl was she? What was wrong with her?
"Mary? Are you quite alright, darling?"
"Yes, Mama," choked out Mary. "May I go? I'm...I'm so tired."
Noticing her daughters pale, drawn face, Cora let her go.
Released at long last from the tedious company, Mary snuck out of the front entrance. Thankfully no servants were on hand to observe her as they were all preoccupied with this dinner and the guests. Mary flew to the tree where she had left the note, hoping she could get rid of it before Matthew could read it...
It was gone.
XxX
Matthew curled himself up under the bedclothes. He was still fully dressed but he couldn't find the strength to change out of his clothes into pyjamas. He was just so...numb. He was ashamed of himself. His father had died and he couldn't... he just didn't feel anything. The thought made him sad. He was more upset at that the fact that he wasn't upset than at his father's death. What kind of a boy was he? What was wrong with him?
And Mary's note. Matthew still clutched it tightly in his hand, the note warm and crumpled in his grasp. Her few words had made his stomach squish up somehow. Her few words had made him feel terrible, like the worst person in the whole world.
He couldn't have met her, however much he might want to. His mother had kept him close by all day, holding his hand and sobbing quietly into her handkerchief. She had handed him one of her handkerchiefs (lightly scented with lavender, the safe, soft smell of his mother) last night, expecting him to cry. But he hadn't.
In his last few moments, Dr. Crawley had spoken to his son, never letting up his strict demeanour even at the end.
"Matthew...you must be... you must try to be a man now. Look after your mother... don't let me down..."
Shortly after this, Dr. Crawley had drawn his last breath and his mother began to cry, clutching her husband's hand as he lay perfectly straight and still under the white sheets. Matthew sat completely still, hardly believing what had happened. This was when his mother had handed him the handkerchief. He looked down at it in surprise. He was supposed to cry. He knew he should. For Heaven's sake! His father had just died. But...nothing. He felt oddly as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Matthew groaned and buried himself deeper under the covers as he recalled and still felt these things, these terribly wrong feelings.
Mary had said he was a horrible boy. He believed it.
XxX
Matthew woke just as the sun was rising and beginning to peep through the crack in the curtains. He just lay there, warm and cosy in the mound of sheets and blankets, staring up at the ceiling. He watched the dust floating about in the sunlight, the slow fall of the dust making him feel pleasantly relaxed. A tapping sound began to pierce his consciousness. Tap. Tap. Tap. What on Earth was that? He dragged himself out of bed, noticing he was still dressed in his shirt and shorts. He tiptoed around his room, trying to source the mysterious tapping. It was coming from the window! He peered out of the window, down into the dew soaked garden. Matthew smiled in surprise.
"Mary?"
"Matthew, I just came to say...to say..."
"What are you doing here? You must have been up earlier than anyone!"
"I'm sorry, Matthew. About your father and..."
Mary suddenly realised how silly and insignificant she would sound if she brought up the note. His father had just died! That was the important thing.
"You came here at half past five in the morning to tell me that?"
Matthew looked down at her with a knowing look. Under his gaze, his blue eyes staring at her, Mary had to tell the truth; he was the most honest person she knew, so she had to be honest too.
"I'm... sorry about what I wrote. I...I didn't mean it...truly."
"I know."
Matthew turned away and disappeared from the window. Mary's eyes started to prick with tears. He couldn't forgive her! She began to walk slowly away when a loud whisper called her back. Matthew was back at the window, something small and white in his hand. She couldn't make out what it was.
"I promised you this and, well, I thought I'd put your note to good use!"
Matthew threw the small white thing out of the window to her and it floated gently down, landing at her feet. Mary bent down to pick it up.
It was a little paper boat.
Hope you enjoyed this! In Chapter Six, Matthew is going to help teach Mary some Greek and Latin I think... Also, they are growing up so fast... I can't wait for them to be teenagers ;)