Chapter Six: The Lost Boys
As payment for Mr. Carson's help in settling the window situation, Mrs. Hughes waged a steady and stealthy attack of logic upon Lady Grantham. For the last days before the family's departure for London, Mrs. Hughes made sure to point out on every presented occasion the logistical nightmare of transporting the children beyond London. She artfully sprinkled their interactions with innocuous comments such as, "I went to Southampton once, My Lady. It took almost as long to get there from London as it had taken to reach London from Glasgow, but I am sure it's much better now."
Or, "I hope Lady Rosamund will be there to help you watch the young Ladies and keep them from seeing something they ought not. The people at the docks can be quite colorful."
Or, "I am sure Miss Randall will be such a help with the young ladies. I remember them running almost wild under Fraulein Kelda."
Cora's defenses were weakening with every moment. The girls, though sweet, did have a tendency to try one's patience when they traveled. They had almost lost Lady Sybil in King's Cross when she stopped to chat with a beggar.
With Mrs. Hughes fulfilling her role in the campaign, Carson strategically recruited a crucial ally two days before the family left for London. Carson was showing the Dowager Countess to her carriage after her afternoon visit.
"I understand you will be joining us in London for Christmas, My Lady."
"Yes, Carson. I did not feel the need to overwhelm Lord Grantham with a welcoming committee." Violet was desperate to see her son, but knew his nature well enough to give him space. "We don't want to drive him back to Africa."
"Very wise, My Lady. And Southampton can be so cold this time of year."
Lady Violet stopped and turned to Carson rather than enter the carriage. "Southampton?"
"Yes, Lady Grantham and the young ladies will be meeting him there; at the docks." Carson counted silently to three as the information sunk in.
"Are you certain, Carson? She said Southampton? I understood they were going to Lady Rosamund's in London."
"And then on to Southampton, My Lady. I am sorry, I believed that you knew."
"I most certainly did not." Carson suppressed a smile as he saw her consternation and as he watched the gears begin to turn in her head.
"It is a good thing you were not planning to accompany them, My Lady. The logistics of the trip are already daunting enough with just the four of them." Carson offered innocently.
He saw the spark of inspiration in her eyes and the sly curl of her mouth's corner. "Yes, Carson. I am sure you are right." Finally, she climbed into the carriage, still grinning. Carson closed the door and signaled the driver. Only then did he allow himself a triumphant smile.
That evening, the Dowager Countess hit Cora with a commando attack by sending a note announcing her intention to join the family reunion in Southampton. She proceeded to complicate the trip further by demanding they stay overnight in a local hotel. And so it was that Lady Grantham was outflanked and overrun before she even knew there was a battle being waged.
Cora thought she still might accompany Carson to Southampton, but the girls would not be left behind. In the end it was decided that Carson would meet His Lordship in Southampton; alone. The family would wait impatiently in London.
On the morning of the twenty-first, Elsie stood by the loaded carts as they were sent off to the station. He exited the house through the front door, wearing his heavy coat and his always pristine bowler hat. Mrs. Patmore swore that hat was over ten years old, but it looked as though he had bought it only yesterday. Pulling on his gloves, Mr. Carson bid his housekeeper goodbye. "We're off then, Mrs. Hughes. Thank you, again, for your hand in convincing Her Ladyship to wait with the girls in London."
"I am glad to have helped, Mr. Carson, but I feel the Dowager made the real difference."
"And it was you who suggested recruiting her to the cause, even though you didn't agree with me."
"I trust you to know His Lordship better than I. I hope you do not find him terribly altered."
"I am sure I shall find all my precautions were unnecessary. But I do not like to leave such things to chance, Mrs. Hughes." Not where the girls are concerned.
"So you are to be in London over Christmas?" She hid her disappointment behind a smile. This was her first Christmas as housekeeper and she had hoped to share it with her butler.
"At least the household will be spared that extra work. The wine for the staff's Christmas dinner is in my pantry. I trust you will not let them celebrate too much."
"It will be a dignified and solemn holiday, Mr. Carson."
"Well, there's no need to go too far, Mrs. Hughes. With all their hard work, they deserve a chance to unwind. The staff should enjoy the holiday. There will be plenty of work to be done when we return from London."
"You will write if your return plans change?"
"I shall write to confirm our plans regardless. We should be back before the new year, at the least." The last wagon was leaving now. The family's carriage would be pulling up soon. Mr. Carson swung easily up to sit beside the wagoner and tipped his hat to her. "Have a Happy Christmas, Mrs. Hughes. Do take some time for yourself and put your feet up with a glass of wine in the evenings. You deserve it. Maybe Mrs. Patmore would join you?"
"That might be asking too much of the holiday spirit." She laughed. "Travel well, Mr. Carson and try to enjoy a bit of London if you get the chance." She waved him off as the cart rolled away. She watched the cart a little longer than was strictly proper, but she had been struck by the contrast of his strong, rigid posture sitting beside the slumped figure of the wagoner.
The next day, Charles Carson watched the large ropes drawn up to the boat as it tied up to the Southampton dock. Ranks of enlisted men lined the railings, searching the sparsely populated dock for a familiar face. This was not a boat bringing back a full regiment, but one of the final boats, carrying a hodgepodge of left behinds and wounded soldiers. There was to be no pomp or bands or speeches accompanying this arrival.
Carson was relieved to see that there were not many families waiting ashore for returning loved ones. Certainly, judging by the unkempt state of the few children present, there were no officers' families. Lord Grantham would not feel slighted by the absence of his family. He might even be flattered, as Carson seemed to be the only valet amongst those waiting to greet the returned soldiers.
After the initial rush of anxious young husbands and fathers, a steady parade of soldiers marched ashore. Among them were the walking wounded; their limps barely discernible. But then came the stretchers bearing the more seriously wounded. At least ten stretchers passed by, carrying broken young men who had given their youth to an ultimately unpopular war. Carson was intensely glad that the young ladies were not there to see these poor men or to consider the countless others who would not be returning to their mothers. Even Carson's pragmatic heart was moved by the misery before him. He knew Lady Sybil's tender heart would have been broken by the sight.
The flow of soldiers from the boat had slowed to a trickle when Captain Robert Crawley finally stood at the top of the gangplank. He sighed with resignation when he saw Carson waiting for him. Though he was glad that the girls were not there, Robert did not think he could stomach Carson's company today. There had been little to do on the voyage home but reread the letters from his family. By the end of the second week, Robert had been perturbed at the constant mention of Carson in these letters. He knew his family was only trying to assure him that they were well looked after, but, now that the war was over, he did not find the words as comforting. By the third week, Robert was harboring jealous and rather unkind thoughts towards his butler. Rationally, Lord Grantham knew this was a ridiculous reaction, but his consternation had grown rather than lessened as they had approached England.
From where Carson stood, it was difficult to say whether Robert was more green or yellow. He looked drawn and gaunt. Once again, Carson was glad that the young ladies had not come to welcome their father home. Lady Grantham would have been strong enough to see him like this, but the children would not have understood.
Carson had known Robert since he was a young boy. He had hoped that the pressures of war might bring out something as yet untapped in the young man. He knew that some men found inspiration and purpose through enduring the horrible conditions of war, but Lord Grantham looked more lost than found. But at least he is alive, Carson reminded himself. And now, he is home. It will just be a matter of transitioning. And Carson was determined to help him with that. Carson greeted Lord Grantham at the bottom of the gangplank. "Welcome home, My Lord."
"Thank you, Carson." Came the automatic answer, but his eyes showed no hint of recognition. How do you greet the man who has made you redundant? Lord Grantham mused darkly.
"Lady Grantham and the young ladies are all awaiting you anxiously in London. They are at Painswick Place with the Dowager Countess and Lady Rosamund. If we hurry, you've time for a hot bath and a proper shave before the train leaves." He tried not to look too judgmentally at the shabby stubble on His Lordship's face. He had obviously tried to groom himself, but had not achieved the desired effect. "If you'll follow me to the hotel, My Lord."
"A hot bath and a shave?" A spark of life seemed to be struck in Robert.
"But we must hurry. Lady Grantham will sack me if I make you miss the train. They are so very excited to see you, My Lord. It was all the Dowager could do to keep them all from coming to Southampton." The spark was fanned and grew to a small flame.
"Then lead on, Carson. I should not wish to put your job in jeopardy." Robert smiled gratefully at Carson. Lord Grantham had finally remembered something that he had forgotten in his long journey home. Carson was not just at Downton to look after the Crawley women; he was there to look after Robert Crawley as well. It felt very good to be looked after again.
Lord Grantham could not help splashing about in the tub a bit. The hot water felt so soothing, he kept dipping his head under the surface and shook his head vigorously as he tried to scrub the film of a five week journey off him. There had been water with which to wash on board, of course, but it had always been salt water. He had even shaved with saltwater though his shaving cream had refused to lather. Robert's hair had taken on a coarseness and he could never feel fully clean. But now, he felt cleansed; body and soul. Robert's irrational resentment towards Carson dissolved as easily as the salt he washed from his skin.
During a lull in the splashing, Carson called into the bathroom, "Do you still wish to wear your uniform, My Lord? I've brought you a change of civilian clothes, but I think the girls would be very proud to see you in uniform."
"If you can make it presentable, Carson. I'm afraid that I've had no one to care for it properly since my batman returned to England four months ago."
"I welcome the challenge, My Lord." Carson watched the clock closely, allowing Lord Grantham every possible moment in the hot bath. Robert shaved himself while in the tub, using the shaving kit Carson had brought from Downton and tons of lather. His own kit was packed away in the luggage that Carson had already directed to the station.
Freed from having to shave His Lordship, Carson had time to run down to the hotel's laundry to press the wrinkles from the pants and dab away the stains of brine and tar on the coat of His Lordship's uniform. There was not time enough to polish the buttons properly, but Carson made quick work of the small tear on the left elbow, which Robert had not noticed.
Returning to the room with the revitalized khakis, Carson called to His Lordship, "We should leave in just over ten minutes, My Lord." Carson gave them an extra ten minutes, but knew His Lordship would delay if he knew they had more time. Reluctantly, Robert rose from the tub and toweled himself off. He slipped quickly into the fresh undergarments Carson had laid out for him.
Shortly, he was sharply dressed and looked a new man. Before exiting the room, Lord Grantham appraised himself in the full length mirror. "What do you think, Carson? Do I pass muster?"
The butler nodded his approval. "Aye, My Lord."
"Shall we to London, then? I am very anxious to see my girls."
TBC...
A/N Posting a second chapter today because it's ready and, judging by the views and reviews, the previous chapter has reached saturation.
FYI, some of the play tie ins will be less on the nose than in previous chapters and more general, like this one.
Thank you, as always for the reviews, it is rather pathetic how much they mean to me;)