A/N: My thanks to elleisforlovee whose constructive feedback led to Tom and Sybil's conversation in the car appearing a little earlier than originally planned. Having never been either a step-parent or child, I'm plotting this on instinct and what I've picked up from friends in a similar position to Sybil. So I do really value all comments – positive or otherwise.
Regardless of its start, this chapter grew longer than initially intended and I ran out of time. So I have split it into two. More to come from Downton next time.
Tom insisted on driving to Yorkshire, picking Sybil up early on the Friday afternoon once his week's lectures had concluded.
"Very quick work!" she said with a smile, looking pointedly at her watch while she climbed into the passenger seat.
"I'm used to making a swift getaway on Fridays." he replied with a smile. "I have it down to a fine art."
Their route was monotonous – the intricate expanse of the British motorway system meant that they experienced little else until reaching Yorkshire, hit the inevitable Friday afternoon rush hour complications around the East Midlands and twice sampled the bland and soulless facilities of a Welcome Break service station. Yet for Sybil, who usually travelled the distance alone, it was refreshing to have company and to relax for once, without the responsibility of taking the wheel. Damian had always believed that they should each drive to their own family's residence, something which had always struck Sybil as profoundly unfair. His father had lived in Weston-super-Mare, a distance of precisely 55 miles, while his mother only resided on the other side of Cardiff.
"Kit-Kat? Banana? A slice of Eleri's barabrith?" she asked, rummaging around in the bag between her feet.
"You've come prepared!" Tom said with a grin. "I'm alright for the minute, thanks."
"I've booked those few days off work for camping, by the way."
He flashed her a sideways smirk. "Not gone off the idea, then? I've been looking at campsites on the web. There's one with a little swimming pool so I think I'll go for that one, just in case the sea's rough or too cold."
Sybil nodded, assembling the thoughts which had been recently occupying her mind.
"Have you told Josh that I'm coming with you?" she asked carefully and watched Tom shake his head.
"Not yet, no."
"Do you think he might mind? I mean, I don't want to get in the way if you think he'd be happier on his own with you. Please just say if you re-think it all, I won't mind."
"Don't think that you can get out of it that quickly, Crawley…" he replied in a teasing tone and she shook her head.
"I'm not, honestly. I just don't know how he's going to feel about it, that's all."
Tom cleared his throat, reaching out his left hand to gently squeeze Sybil's leg. "I know. I'm very aware of that, I promise. I just can't see any point in potentially giving him something to worry about at this stage."
"So do you think he might worry about it?" she pressed. Every time she reflected on the potential implications of her ongoing involvement in Josh's life, she felt as if she was treading water in treacle – powerless to steer her own course and riddled by obscured obstacles. She had no experience to go by, none of her friends were in the same position and she felt that her emotions came in fourth place for consideration – behind Josh and each of his parents. While she understood that was probably the correct sequence under the circumstances, it didn't make it any less frustrating or bewildering.
"I don't know, in all honesty Sybil." Tom glanced fleetingly in her direction and she could witness his evident unease. "This situation is new to me. I've told you that I've had very few girlfriends since he was born. None were very serious. One met him a couple of times when he was very little, so it wouldn't have meant anything to him. Another just met him once and I introduced her as a friend. It fizzled out soon after so it was never an issue."
He expelled an audible sigh before continuing. "I don't want to unbalance this unconventional stability that we've managed to create for him. But on the other hand, the idea that both Eddie and I are each going to remain single and unattached until he's an adult is unrealistic. It's quite possible that he won't consider it to be a big issue. I already live away and he's only been here in Wales with me once for a few days, so it's not as if I'm demolishing some kind of long-standing precedent. But anyway, I don't want him possibly fretting for two months about what it might mean. You know, you might change your mind..."
"I won't!" she interrupted indignantly. Her decision to join them may have stemmed from teasing and been made on impulse, but she wasn't one to capitulate easily when her mind was made up.
"I don't just mean about the camping, to be honest Sybil. I mean everything. Us. You can't be sure how you'll feel going forward."
She couldn't help but instinctively turn it into a joke. "My God, what are you planning to do at Downton?"
He laughed. "Nothing untoward, I promise! But you know…anything can happen over two months. I hope it doesn't, but…"
"I know…" she conceded gently.
"So I thought I'd leave it until shortly before we go. Bring you into the conversation and remind him of the museum and the pizza. Maybe we can meet up with you again a couple of days beforehand? I don't know for certain that he would dwell on it if I told him now, whether he would pick up on the possibility of there being a substantial change. But I don't want him to worry that anything's going to change between me and him. I'd rather he just had a good time with us and that it developed naturally."
A nagging thought continued to bother Sybil. "But are you actually going to tell him that we're together in that way? Or just let him think that I'm a good friend who likes camping?"
"I will tell him, yes. But I don't want to make a big thing of it at this stage. It's not as if we live together or anything, but I will explain that you're my special friend. But I might not do that until we've already been away for a couple of days. I'm hoping that you'll both get on as well as you did last time and then it hopefully won't feel like a huge shift for him, just a natural progression."
"Has Eddie not got a boyfriend then?"
Tom shook his head. "I've not known about anyone, nor has Josh ever mentioned someone. About two years ago, when I was babysitting one Saturday night in her house, she didn't come home. I mean, she sent me a text to say that she wasn't coming back, but she arrived home at nine thirty the next morning. I always let her have a lie-in when I'm there on a Sunday so Josh didn't even realise that she wasn't at home. She never told me anything about where she went, but I presumed there was a man involved. But as far as I'm aware, he didn't stick around." He expelled a brief sigh. "It's weird really. On one hand, I wish she would meet someone. I don't want her to be lonely and she deserves some personal happiness. But on the other hand, it would be an uncomfortable experience for me."
Sybil felt the first stirrings of jealousy. "Why?" she said in as neutral a tone as she could muster.
"Because I can't help but think about it progressing. If she got married or moved someone in, that man would see more of my son than I do."
"Oh I see what you mean." She turned her head so he couldn't see her visible relief.
"And no matter how great a relationship I might have with Josh, you can't help but worry that this other man…" he gave a light laugh. "…this fictitious man who isn't actually around yet, might end up having more influence over my son than me. That makes me feel profoundly uncomfortable, if I'm honest. So I'll just have to deal with it, as and when it happens."
Sybil nodded, appreciating his point of view, but simultaneously deep in contemplation about the potential of her own long-term role.
"And how do you think Eddie will feel about me?"
"I think she'll be jealous." She turned her head to watch him as he spoke with discernible caution. "Because deep down I think she feels that I rejected her. I'm not saying that she still cares for me in that way, I don't know to be honest. She doesn't give the impression that she does, but I know that she wanted us to give it another go when it became clear that I was going to support her. But also because she's so fiercely protective of Josh and just like me feeling uncomfortable about the possibility of another kind of father figure in his life, she is bound to harbour similar thoughts about you."
"A mother figure." Sybil repeated thoughtfully. "I suppose that's what I would be. It sounds really weird to hear it said because it's such a dramatic, major shift from my life up until this point."
"Does it frighten you?" he asked and she spotted the tension in his cheek while he awaited her reply.
"A little, yes. I know we've become really close, very, very quickly and we're both fairly deeply involved already. But I do feel as if we're being forced to have these huge discussions about our future very early on. Far more quickly than we would otherwise. I can't help but feel that we should just be enjoying getting to know one another again, being completely self-indulgent and falling head over heels in love! Instead I find myself already having to consider whether or not we're likely to stay together in the long-term and try to envisage myself as a step-mother!" She expelled an involuntary gasp of laughter. "You see, even those words sound completely alien to me! I'm not a mother. I can care for him, make him clean his teeth and read him stories, but I'm not a mother!"
"It's just a title… words, that's all, Sybil. He doesn't need another mother, just a friend who helps me look after him. I know it's all too much, too soon. I understand that. But I can't just be completely self-indulgent. That stopped for me the day that Eddie announced she was pregnant. I have to think about him all the time, in whatever I do and so yes, you're right, we're having much bigger and more significant conversations than we would otherwise. It's a big ask and I would understand if you felt that you didn't want to have to deal with it." He paused and gave a brief sideways glance. "I'd be very upset, but I would understand."
She shook her head, partly to dispel his fears but in addition, as an attempt to clear her head of disjointed thoughts. "I'm not backing out, I'm really not. The fact that I've invited you to Downton on what's quite an intimate family occasion, that I've told my parents about you and about Josh - that all goes to show that I'm committed. I mean as you said earlier, neither of us can be sure about what's going to happen in the long run, but we feel a lot for each other, don't we?"
She heard a fleeting touch of neediness within her tone, wincing at her own emotional frailty but feeling an inherent desire to hear him voice his commitment towards her as well as to his son. His left hand reached out for hers and for a few seconds, silence pervaded while they each found the sanctity they craved.
"'A lot' is an understatement, Sybil" he finally said.
ooOoo
They arrived shortly before nine and at Sybil's instruction, Tom parked at one corner of the vast expanse of stony drive, neatly tucked behind Matthew's Range Rover and her parents' Jaguar. Sybil observed him cast an appreciative glance at each while they walked towards the front door – his love of stylish cars had been superseded by the practicalities of cost, parenthood and a sometimes regretful transition from a sporty Mazda to a Ford Focus.
Sybil had primed him during the journey and as a result, he displayed no visible curiosity towards the elderly butler who welcomed him through the door with a noble nod of the head while swiftly removing his bag and suit hanger from his grasp.
"Hello Carson, how are you?" Sybil asked fondly and the indulgent expression on the man's face was evident as she lightly touched his arm and waited for a reply.
"Very well milady, thank you. Always better for having everyone back home again."
"Carson was my third parent during my childhood, you know Tom? He gave great piggy back rides!"
Tom flashed a grin, rotating slowly on his heel and turning his head to admire the Abbey's cavernous hallway. Sybil realised that her childhood recollections were taking second place to his admiration of undoubtedly impressive surroundings and made an effort to visualise her childhood home through unversed eyes. The sweeping staircase which implied ceremony and pageantry, rather than a particularly treacherous slide (you needed a sister carefully positioned at the bottom to help shield your fall), the sharp echo caused by heels clicking across the hard tiled floor (it was possible to skid a long way in woollen tights if you ran diagonally from the servants' staircase and to everyone's surprise, Edith still retained the record), the indication of domestic antiquity displayed in portraits and the family crest high upon the walls. To Sybil it simply represented home, interwoven in her mind with childish pursuits and teenage crises. Long before she had any firm desire to become a nurse, she had once turned the long, ornately crafted wooden sideboard into a toy hospital for her dolls and teddies, each carefully tucked up in shoeboxes or Mrs Patmore's spare storage containers. But now, with the absence of young children inhabiting the communal core, she could appreciate how it might appear imposing and lacking in familial warmth.
"We pretty much live in the library" she explained, reaching out to take Tom's hand and wondering as she did so, why her parents had not appeared to greet them. Carson seemed to read her mind and gave a gentle clear of his throat.
"Your father is his office on the telephone to a supplier, I believe. Lady Grantham is upstairs with Mr Crawley and young Master George. Shall I let her know that you're here?"
"Yes please, but tell her not to hurry. We'll be fine, I'll just show Tom the library."
"Can I get you some tea, perhaps, Lady Sybil?"
She hesitated, always reluctant to resist Carson's traditional offerings for fear of causing offence. "Um…"
He tipped his head with a fleeting smile. "Or a glass of wine, maybe?"
She expelled a grateful sigh. "That sounds more like it, yes please! Tom, a beer?"
"That would be much appreciated, thank you."
She had no doubt that the library would satisfy Tom's curiosity in the meantime and was gratified to see his eyes immediately light up with approval as they entered.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, heading immediately for the nearest shelves and running a finger along the first row of dusty spines in gentle reverence. "Look at these…Christ, there's some real old gems here. Oh…Thackeray's 'The Irish Sketch Book'. That was your Lonely Planet Guide of its day. Did one of your ancestors travel over to Ireland?"
Sybil shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. But most of these books were bought for display purposes only. My great, great, great grandfather made most of the substantial purchases, but I think he wanted to have a reputation as the custodian of books, rather than any great desire to read them all."
"What a tragedy. So have you read many?" he asked with a curious smile.
"As much as I could. There's no way you could read everything and many of them aren't really very relevant any more. Dad's always felt that a library should be used and we were encouraged to utilise it as much as we could, but there wasn't much that was going to help us with our GCSEs in here. So over there…" she pointed a finger towards the opposite diagonal corner on which the shelves had more colourful adornments "…is what we call the 21st Century corner. Well late 20th and early 21st anyway. My parents' business books from when they were first trying to get to grips with hosting events and functions. Some of my very early nursing books, although I've got the more modern and relevant ones down in Cardiff. Dad's political tomes and various politicians' diaries, which I expect you've read, novels which have stood the test of time."
Sybil swung around with a smile at the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Darling!" her mother cried, walking briskly towards her with arms outstretched. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't down here to say hello…" She kissed Sybil warmly and drew her in for a hug before releasing her and turning with an outstretched hand towards Tom.
"And Tom…what a terrible hostess I've been, I'm sorry…"
"It's quite alright, Lady Grantham…"
She waved a hand lightly in the air. "Cora, please."
"OK then Cora. I've been admiring your wonderful library here. This room is my idea of heaven."
"Well I guess I'm not surprised by that! I could always count on finding Sybil down here if she wasn't in her room. Lying down on the couch with her nose in some novel." She turned her head at Carson's entrance through a nearby oak panelled door. "Ah, Carson, are those for our weary travellers? Thank you so much. Now what about something to eat?"
Sybil shook her head while simultaneously Tom patted his stomach. "Sybil's kept me well-nourished all the way, so I'm fine, thanks."
Gratefully accepting their drinks, they moved to comfortable chairs positioned around the fireplace.
"Is Mary here?" asked Sybil and her mother sighed with evident regret.
"No she had meetings all afternoon poor darling, so she was on the seven o'clock from Glasgow. She won't even get into York until just after eleven but Matthew's insisting on going to get her, even though he's already shattered. He drove up here early evening but George slept most of the way and now he won't go down again. So he's upstairs at the moment, trying to settle him. And Edith and Michael were leaving London after the rush hour, so they'll be late too." She tipped her head and gave a smile which indicated a contented pride for her homecoming brood. "Let's hope that Esmé just sleeps and they can put her straight to bed." She paused. "And Rosamund is at Granny's of course."
"Isobel?" Sybil asked.
"She's coming tomorrow morning. Apparently she had to attend a meeting about Syrian refugees this evening."
Sybil leant forward with curiosity. "Oh, what's her involvement with that, then?"
Cora's nose twitched a fraction, although her face remained impassive. "Oh single-mindedly resolving all international conflict, I should think."
Intercepting any sharp retort that Sybil might have in defence of Matthew's mother, Cora turned smartly in Tom's direction. "Talking about deserving causes, I think I may have possibly manned the tombola at the school Christmas Fair with your mother many years ago, Tom. I remember an Irish lady who was deliberating about whether to stay in Yorkshire or return home."
"Oh right! Yes, she did say she thought that she'd met you once." He smiled kindly and Sybil couldn't help but wonder whether beyond the school itself, their mothers would have found any common ground.
Any reverie on the matter was interrupted by the arrival of Matthew, sweeping tousled fair locks of hair from his forehead with one hand and clutching a baby monitor to his ear with the other.
"Hi Tom, really good to meet you!" he said warmly, reaching out to shake his hand with great enthusiasm and embracing Sybil soon after. With a sudden frown, he turned and took several paces back, retracing his entrance. "I've lost the connection" he muttered, holding the monitor high in the air.
"That book shelf worked last time" Cora suggested, raising a finger towards a wall. "No, higher Matthew. For some reason it can't….ah!" She and her son-in-law exchanged satisfied glances as the device lit up with flashing red lights and George's voice became clearly audible.
"Dada..no bed. NO!" he bellowed and Matthew gave a resigned sigh, accompanied by a wry smile.
"Right…obviously not, then! OK I'll just go and …." He nodded towards Tom's now half empty glass. "If Carson's about, could you possibly ask…"
"I'll have one ready for you, Matthew" Cora assured as he made his exit.
"The joys of parenting!" she exclaimed with a light laugh before Sybil spotted a brief ghost of a frown in her expression. "Of course, you'll know all about that as well, Tom?" her mother continued.
He nodded and placed his beer on a nearby table, giving the impression of being wholly at ease. "Yes. My son, Josh will soon be six so it's not quite as full on nowadays, but I'm fully acquainted with the tribulations of sleeping in the car and the subsequent repercussions."
Cora smiled, a mask of affability once again in place as she offered polite enquiries about Josh's recent visit to Wales and his schooling. However, the indication that her parents may feel uneasy about Tom's personal situation had been momentarily laid bare and Sybil felt stirrings of personal disappointment.
"Where's Dad?" she asked, flicking a lock of hair over her shoulder as if it might banish any discouraging thoughts.
Her mother's frown resurfaced, only this time there was no attempt at concealment. "He's on the phone to the caterers, we've had a few problems recently."
"Oh no, not to do with Granny's lunch?" exclaimed Sybil in alarm and Cora shook her head, her look of disquiet unremitting.
"No, Mrs Patmore's doing that. She's got a couple of catering students from York College who are coming in to help tomorrow. No, it's the company we've been using for the larger functions, they've proved rather unreliable and there seems to be a credit issue. They want us to pay up front all of a sudden. Dad's been trying to speak to the Manager for ages and finally he rang back just before you arrived."
"You should get Mary to go over and see them. She'll sort them out!" Sybil said, immediately regretting her blithe manner as she watched her mother's face contort with anxiety. "Mum?"
"No it's fine." Cora shook her head and her expression once again re-arranged itself into something more up-beat. "I'm sure he'll ask Mary if he wants any advice. It's just that we're getting into peak wedding season so he wants to be sure that everything's in order. They'll thrash it all out, I'm sure."
The conversation moved on to other issues – Sybil and Tom's respective jobs, the recent illness of a great aunt, local furore over a planning application for six new houses in Downton village – before the Earl of Grantham's entrance was revealed by a golden Labrador bounding enthusiastically into the room and greeting Sybil with a slobbery lick of the tongue.
"Hello Isis, gorgeous boy" she declared, rubbing his ears vigorously and standing in anticipation of her father.
"I'm so sorry…" The Earl's voice preceded him by several paces as he strode confidently towards Tom, his hand outstretched. "How lovely to meet you, welcome to Downton! Did you ever come here in your youth? Sybil's explained how you met both now and then – the marvel of the internet, eh?"
Vigorous hand pumping completed, he then moved across to kiss his daughter. "You look tired" he said sternly.
"I've been in a car for hours, that's all" she reassured. "What about you, what's all this about the caterers?"
Her father waved his hand in the air nonchalantly. "Nothing that can't be sorted out." He glanced briefly at his wife. "We'll have a little chat before going up later Cora, but then put it to one side." With a fond squeeze of Sybil's arm, he continued briskly. "No work this weekend, it's my mother's birthday and all my girls are home. I intend to be quite relaxed!"
"Even with Mum, Granny and Isobel all at the same table?" Sybil quickly retorted with a grin.
"Your mother has promised to be on quite her best behaviour!"
Sybil raised her eyebrows. "But what about Granny?"
"Ah…" He paused for dramatic effect. "One step at a time, Sybil." He swung around on his heel. "Right, I think I deserve a whisky after that call."
"Robert…" Cora's tone was gentle, but Sybil recognised its intended caution. Her father's blood pressure fluctuated widely and she was aware of the medical instruction to minimise his alcohol intake.
"Just a small one, Cora. It's Friday night for goodness sake! Now Tom, can I tempt you? I've got both Irish and Scottish varieties here, a couple of good single malts."
"I wouldn't say no, thank you very much" he replied with an easy smile and she reached for his hand, grateful for his seemingly comfortable assimilation into her largely unconventional domestic setting.
"My brother came here once." He explained companionably, once he was nursing his tumbler, leaning back into the sofa, one leg casually draped over his knee. "Not to the house. Just in the grounds. I believe you let the school use it for a geography field trip?"
"Oh yes, that's right!" Cora replied with a firm nod. "They still do from time to time. We're happy to lend them our support even though the girls are all long gone."
"Kieran was in Edith's class actually."
"Oh you must tell her. Have you already mentioned it Sybil?"
Sybil confirmed that she had. "Yes she remembered him. At least I think she did, she went rather vague on the phone at the time, but then she seems to do that a lot at the moment."
"Baby brain!" her mother said with a soft laugh. "I think she's found it all a big adjustment, but she's doing a marvellous job. Esmé is such a happy baby."
The evening passed in a succession of short-lived greetings and departures. Matthew returned in a flustered state, having fallen asleep next to George. He declined the awaiting beer with evident regret and hurried towards his car in order to meet Mary off her train, leaving Cora in charge of listening out for her grandson. Edith and Michael then arrived, scurrying immediately upstairs with their sleeping daughter. After their reappearance downstairs half an hour later, there was a short-lived impediment with the two baby monitors which battled against one another for a frequency and at one point intercepted a radio conversation between two local police cars.
"Sounds like they've got trouble at closing time in the Grantham Arms" Robert said with a frown, reaching forward to grasp a monitor before Cora lightly tapped his wrist.
"Will you please keep out of it! It's not your fiefdom, let them deal with it!"
Mary and Matthew arrived with Sybil's sister visibly drawn and exhausted, clutching a brown leather briefcase against her chest with what seemed like exaggerated importance.
"I won't stay up" she explained apologetically. "I'm sure George will be up at the crack of dawn and I can hardly stand for swaying." She blew a kiss in Sybil's direction and made a concerted effort to smile at Tom. "Hello. I'll meet you properly tomorrow. I promise that I'm much nicer when I've had some sleep."
Edith accepted a whisky from her father, who refilled Tom's glass, then surreptitiously added to his own while his wife's attention was diverted elsewhere.
She smiled in Tom's direction. "Have you spent much time in Yorkshire since your family left?"
"No, I just came up one weekend while I was studying in Oxford over ten years ago."
"It probably seems like a very long time ago, now."
His face crinkled in recollection. "In some ways, yes. But now I've met Sybil again, all the memories are flooding back and it seems hard to believe that it was twenty years ago. By the way, my brother Kieran asked me to send you his regards."
Edith glanced towards the fireplace, scratching the side of her neck and simultaneously swirling her drink around in her glass. "Oh, that's nice" she replied courteously, before meeting Tom's gaze once again with a more hesitant smile.
Undeterred, he pressed on. "Yes, he said to say that he has very fond memories of the geography field trip here at Downton."
Instantly, Edith's face flooded with colour and she jumped to her feet. "Did I hear Esmé?" she cried, her voice rising in pitch. Michael turned from his conversation with Cora in puzzlement.
"No, I don't think I heard…" he began, but Edith was already heading towards the door.
"I'm just going to check on her!" she announced, while Tom and Sybil exchanged mystified glances.
"What was that about?" Sybil whispered and Tom raised a fist to his mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to disguise his amusement.
"I'm not sure but I'm definitely going to be asking Kieran when I next speak to him."
By midnight, everyone was unified by exhaustion, Carson collected the empty glasses and wished them all goodnight.
Cora took Sybil's elbow and guided her gently towards the window, any moonlight now impeded by a swathe of thick velvet curtains. "I've put Tom in the old bachelors' quarters" she began, her eyes offering an apologetic beseech. "I wasn't sure if…"
"That's fine, Mum. Whatever you think's best."
"I mean, if you'd rather…" Cora cleared her throat and patted her daughter's arm. Sybil was grateful for her mother's gesture regardless of the visible discomfort it was causing and leant forward to give her a hug.
"This is your house and Tom will sleep wherever you would like him to."
"Well I don't mind. It's only that Dad…"
"I know" Sybil replied firmly and their eyes met in mutual recognition of Robert's conservative values, despite his own lapse of principles with a Westminster colleague ten years previously. There were times when Sybil felt sorely tempted to remind him of his double standards, but doing so would only cause her mother further distress and she had no wish to revisit the feelings of disillusionment which she herself had experienced once the discovery had been made public.
Cora shook her head. "It's so silly, I mean you're thirty-three. Honestly!"
"Mum, I said it's fine."
Sybil showed Tom to his door, wrapping her arms comfortably around his waist and leaning in for a gentle kiss. "You see, we lock single men down here so that they can be shielded far from temptation."
He gave a solemn nod, struggling to contain the corners of his mouth from twitching. "I see and will you be wearing your chastity belt tonight in case I'm overcome with desire and unable to resist?"
She tossed her head back so that her hair flowed over her shoulders and offered a coy glance. "Oh I threw mine out years ago. It seems it was faulty, you see?"
A smile preceded his lips once again meeting hers and they stood entwined, relishing the sensation of simply kissing when there was no likelihood of subsequent progress.
"Much as I love being back in my childhood bed, I would actually prefer to have you in it with me" she admitted.
Tom tipped his head to one side, his curiosity raised. "So is it completely forbidden, or just at the beginning of a relationship? I mean, does your father decide when it becomes appropriate?"
Sybil attempted a grave expression. "Yes he rings a bell after a year. 'Shagging now permitted!'" Her face crinkled with amusement at the concept. "I love him dearly, but he is such a hypocrite."
It was clear that Tom understood the implication and his face contorted in empathy. "I read about it at the time, I just haven't wanted to ask you. I presume they're alright now? I mean, they seem perfectly happy together?"
Sybil sighed, her shoulder pressing against the corridor wall. "Yes, they put it behind them. As much as you can, I suppose. I mean, Mum never talks about it any more but I'm sure it must still hurt."
"And you? Did you feel some kind of betrayal as well? I know you weren't a child, but still…" He tailed off, looking uncomfortable.
Sybil gave a regretful sigh at the reappearance of memories she generally tried to sweep from the forefront of her mind. "Well, he didn't betray me personally and I know it was entirely separate from his love for me, or for any of his children. But I did feel very let down by him, yes. I guess everyone eventually realises that their parents aren't perfect, but it seemed a very abrupt discovery at the time. And the press intrusion was just awful. We'd never been a family who was interested in putting ourselves in the public eye, although obviously the title attracts a certain amount of attention. I was just out of uni and somehow journalists got hold of my number and were asking me for my opinion."
"What did you do?"
"Ended the call and changed my number as soon as I could, but it felt like people were watching us for a very long time."
Tom reached out to take her hand. "I remember really wanting to try and get in touch with you at the time, I thought about writing to you here. You know, just to offer a friendly gesture really? But I thought it would look as if I was prying or taking advantage of the situation."
Sybil raised herself on to her toes, leaning forward to bestow a grateful kiss. "That's very sweet. I'm not sure what I would have done in all honesty. I mean, I've always thought about you from time to time, but you're right, I might not have been very receptive to anyone at that point in time. It felt as if I had curled up into a ball and was ready to strike anyone who came near. On the other hand, maybe we'd have been together for ten years by now?"
Tom's eyes widened in reflection before he gave his head a tiny shake. "Ah who knows? Fate drew its hand when it did. I'll take what we've got now rather than the risk of you chasing me away with a pitchfork ten years ago."
She conferred a slow smile, indulgently gazing at him and aware of an accompanying sensation of overwhelming happiness. "Well with that image in my mind, I think I'll leave you to get some sleep" she said regrettfully.
He nodded. "After that long drive and three of your father's generous whisky measures, I'd give it about two minutes before I'm snoring."
She tugged at the front of his shirt, glancing up with a half-hearted effort at demure. "Not going to sneak in on me in the middle of the night, then?"
"And have your father throw me out of the house?"
"Well if he did, the old chauffeur's cottage by the garage is quite waterproof, you wouldn't have to sleep in the grounds."
"Oh you make it sound so appealing!" he teased. "Remember, if I have to drive away in disgrace tomorrow, you're on the train home."
She wrinkled her nose in exaggerated distaste. "Oh no and you need to change twice to get to Cardiff! Okay, you stay where you are! Besides it's probably for the best. You need to keep your strength up to compete with Granny tomorrow."
Tom stared at her intently with only the ghost of a smile passing across his lips. "Why do I not find that in any way reassuring?"