Chapter 18: The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up
"I've some good news for you, Carson." Lord Grantham told him one morning.
"What is that, My Lord?"
"Her Ladyship informed me last night that we will be having the Servant's Ball after all. It shall be a week from yesterday."
"That will be welcome news downstairs, My Lord."
"Can you and Mrs. Hughes pull it together so quickly? I understand this will be her first Downton Ball."
"I am certain we can. I know that Mrs. Pearson covered the traditions of the Servant's Ball in her training. I do not think we should delay any longer if the decision has been made. Do you have any idea what brought this decision about?"
"Her exact words were, 'Enough brooding, my dear. Let's have a party.' Have I been brooding, Carson?"
"It is not my place to disagree with Her Ladyship. She is in a better position to judge."
Lord Grantham rolled his eyes at this response. "Very diplomatically said, Carson. A simple 'yes' would have sufficed."
Carson thought it best not to comment further.
"I do not want my mood preventing the Ball, Carson. The staff certainly deserve their entertainment."
"I believe they do, My Lord."
Robert turned slowly in place so Carson could give him a final brush. "Have you noticed where Pharaoh is spending his afternoons?"
"My Lord?"
"I cannot seem to locate him after tea for the past few days. I'm sure it is nothing. Perhaps Mrs. Patmore has a stash of bones left over from dinner last week."
"I am sure it is something like that, My Lord."
-00-
"He is on to us. I think we should leave Pharaoh out of things for now." He warned the girls that afternoon.
"It is not as though he has many lines to learn." Edith reasoned.
"Very well, we shall rehearse without the dog." Mary allowed.
-00-
While dressing for dinner a few days later, Lord Grantham asked Carson, "Have you heard anything about the girls' plans for the Servant's Ball? Lady Grantham has been dropping not so subtle hints that I should be prepared for anything that evening."
"I do know of their plans, My Lord, but I am sworn to secrecy. Please do not ask me to betray a trust."
"I am surprised they told you anything, Carson. They should know you would tell me everything if I demanded it."
"They most likely are hoping that you will not do so. And I do not believe they have told me everything. I am only privy to the things for which I am required."
"I detest all this secrecy and sneaking about."
"If I may say, My Lord, you might still avoid it if you were to visit the nursery and spend some time with the young ladies."
"I am poor company for anyone, Carson, especially children." Robert admitted despondently. "I don't know what to do when I am with them."
"To speak frankly, My Lord, little would be required of you. The young ladies are quite company enough between them." Carson detected a small smile at this comment.
-00-
"Are all of your preparations for the Ball going well, Mrs. Hughes?" He asked her, over wine two nights before the event.
"Yes, Mr. Carson. The only difficulty was finding a band at such short notice, but the Dowager Countess solved that problem. Everything else has been as anticipated."
"And are there any special details of which I should be aware?" He asked, innocently.
"None that I can think of, Mr. Carson. Why do you ask?" She answered, just as innocently.
"It is only that I am aware that the young ladies are making extra work for you and I should be glad to lighten the load if I can."
She smiled knowingly at him. "You are trying to spy on them for His Lordship."
He did not look in the least ashamed at being caught. "You would tell me if there is anything I should warn him about, would you not?"
"I would, Mr. Carson. There is nothing to worry about, I assure you."
Satisfied with this answer, Mr. Carson let the matter lie.
"And how is the play coming, Mr. Carson?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, they've told you about that?"
"They've told me everything, Mr. Carson. My loyalty is not in question."
He huffed at this jab, but smiled. "The play is progressing well, Mrs. Hughes. Each of the girls play at least 4 characters, sometime simultaneously. It must be seen to be believed."
"And how many roles have you?"
"Only two. I am the narrator and the villain…and the stagehand."
"And the author and the director?"
"Oh, no. I'll not be taking any credit or blame for that. The girls are the authoresses and directors. I have been powerless to contain them in any way."
Elsie laughed at this. "I can imagine. And what is your assessment of the production?"
"It will be entertaining, of that I have no doubt. Though I am rather dubious that it will be coherent." He sipped his wine thoughtfully.
"They lent me the original play to read." She told him. "I've been trying to assign the roles in my head. I assume Lady Sybil is Peter Pan…"
"And a mermaid and several of the lost boys as well."
"Lady Mary will be Wendy...?"
"And a pirate, a lost boy and the red Indian chief."
"That leaves John or Michael for Lady Edith."
"She is John, Tiger Lily and Mr. Smee, whose role has been vastly expanded to the detriment of Captain Hook. Miss Randall will be playing the part of Michael."
"That sounds like excellent casting." Elsie teased.
Mr. Carson could not suppress a smile as he remembered. "Lady Edith informed Miss Randall that she would be playing Michael because he was the dullest character and she would not have to act much. I do not think she meant to be unkind, but Lady Mary's laughter did not smooth things over."
"I should imagine not." Mrs. Hughes hid her smirk in her almost empty wine glass. After recovering, she inquired. "And your salt mixture will be Tinkerbell?"
"Half of her. We'll be using a lamp and mirror for some of the scenes, as they did in London. That reminds me, Mrs. Hughes; the ladies would like to borrow your keys to play the voice of Tinkerbell."
"My keys? There are plenty of bells to choose from in the house, I am sure."
"As I tried to inform Lady Sybil, but she insisted. She said, and I quote, 'Tinkerbell must sound sweet and familiar, like a happy memory you've yet to make.' End quote. When she put it so poetically, I found I could not argue with her."
Elsie blushed at the compliment that she felt was meant for herself as much as for her keys. "From the mouths of babes. How could I say no to that?"
-00-
The night of the Servant's Ball finally arrived. Robert was surprised to see his uniform laid out when he came upstairs to change for dinner.
"I have my orders, My Lord." Carson explained when Lord Grantham asked why.
"From whom?"
"Whom do you think?" Carson asked as he removed His Lordship's tweed jacket.
"This is all part of their surprise?" He removed his vest.
"I am not privy to this particular detail. I have only been told enough to be sure that you attend in uniform this evening, My Lord."
"Secretive little minxes. They are very much their mother's daughters, Carson."
"And their father's also, My Lord. They are adamant that you wear your uniform. My livelihood was threatened should I fail." The joke did not sound as light as Carson had intended.
Lord Grantham looked abashed. "You know that is all bluster, Carson. No one would ever consider sacking you for any such slight. We all know full well that this family would be lost without you."
"Thank you for saying so, My Lord. Please keep that in mind as the evening progresses."
Now they both smiled. "I shall try, Carson."
"If you will follow me, My Lord."
Carson led Lord Grantham downstairs, out the drawing room French doors and towards the garden. "Have they moved the Ball?"
"No, My Lord. Your ride is awaiting you here."
"My ride?" A wagon clattered to a stop on the lawn beyond the garden. Robert looked at the wagon and then at his butler with confusion. HMS Downton was painted roughly on the side of the wagon and small ship's mast had been erected in the middle of the wagon. "What is all this about, Carson?"
"I was not aware of this detail, My Lord, but I would say they are giving you a second chance."
"A second chance for what?"
"To come home." The garden was silent about them as Carson looked at Lord Grantham frankly. "You cannot continue to live betwixt and between, My Lord."
"But, Carson…"
"I must go and take my place, My Lord. I shall see you soon. They are waiting for you." Carson turned and practically ran away from Lord Grantham and the wagonship.
Back at the front door, the staff waited patiently. They were not wearing their usual livery, but all were dressed in their finest for the Servant's Ball. Mr. Carson, who's best happened to also be his livery, walked briskly out the front door to take his place beside Mrs. Hughes just as the wagon rounded the corner of the house. Carson nodded at Mrs. Hughes, forcing himself not to dwell on the way her light green dress complimented her complexion, or how the lower than normal collar accented her graceful neck. He told himself there would be time to admire her later in the evening.
Opposite the staff, the family waited, similarly dressed in their festive best. Lady Mary looked nervously at Mr. Carson, who gave her an encouraging smile and a nod. The wagon 'sailed' to a stop in front of the assembled household. Geoffrey and Roger ran forward and lifted a gangplank to the back of the wagon. Lord Grantham stepped down the plank, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Carson knew he felt ridiculous, but was glad to see Lord Grantham following gamely along with the girls' plans.
"Welcome home, my dear." Lady Grantham stepped forward to formally greet her husband.
"This is ridiculous." He whispered to her as she kissed his cheek.
"Yes, it is." She whispered back as she kissed his other cheek.
"Welcome home, my son." The Dowager Countess spoke in her turn. She rolled her eyes to signify that her participation was reluctant at best.
Robert smiled at his mother and exchanged kisses dutifully. "Thank you for being here, Mama."
"Have I gone mad? I distinctly remember doing this in London."
"No, Mama, but how could you welcome me home in London when Downton is in Yorkshire?" Robert was beginning to understand what all this pageantry was meant to accomplish. He turned to his brave young girls who had orchestrated all of this. How was it that his children understood how he felt better than he himself did?
"Welcome home, Papa." Mary said very seriously. Robert bent down to kiss her on each cheek.
"Welcome home, Papa." Edith curtseyed. He kissed her as he had kissed Mary.
"Welcome home, Papa." Sybil bounced excitedly. Her father knelt in front of her. He took Sybil by her shoulders to calm her before kissing her on each cheek.
As he knelt, Pharaoh ran up beside Sybil and demanded to be acknowledged. Laughing, Robert took the dog's face in his hands. For a moment, it looked as though Lord Grantham was going to let the dog lick his face. Elsie heard Mr. Carson cough quietly beside her. Robert contented himself with a friendly pat on the head as he rose from the gravel.
"Welcome home, My Lord." Carson bowed.
Robert approached Carson with two great strides. The butler looked momentarily afraid that His Lordship was about to greet him as he had greeted his family. His relief when Robert merely shook his hand was palpable. "Thank you, Carson. This has been lovely."
"Oh, but this is just the beginning, My Lord." And he ushered the Crawley family inside.
Family and staff were shown to seating that had been set up before a small stage in the Grand Hall. As people were finding their places, Miss Randall and the girls ran around to the back to change into their costumes and put on makeup. Mr. Carson would not need a costume for several acts and he had steadfastly refused makeup. He had made only one allowance.
Receiving his cue from backstage, Mr. Carson took his place on the stage and opened the play. He turned the pages of the script and began to read.
"This production is an abridged version of Mr. J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan, as interpreted by Ladies Mary, Edith and Sybil Crawley. Liberties have been taken with the original manuscript. It should be noted that, though Mr. Barrie is a close acquaintance of the Ladies Crawley, he has not given his blessing to this production. We are certain that no one associated with this production will profit from their involvement. This includes the audience."
Only a few small giggles greeted this opening.
"Oh, dear. This is going to be a long evening. For all of us." Mr. Carson quipped. More, scattered laughter peppered amongst the audience.
"It should be known," Carson continued to read, "That audience participation is welcomed by the players. There will be no repercussions for those who choose to jeer the villains nor any special favors granted to those who cheer the heroes. However, there may be consequences for remaining silent." With a wry smile to the audience, Mr. Carson removed the last barrier of propriety.
"We shall open our story in the Darling nursery in London…" Mr. Carson stepped backstage as the lights dimmed and the curtain opened upon Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Miss Randall jumping on their make believe beds. Their beds were little more than three separate piles of blankets. "The Darling children, Wendy, John and Michael were fighting their evening routine, as was their routine. Even their governess, Nana, could not calm them."
At this point, Edith took a bone out of her pocket and whistled. Pharaoh, wearing the nurse's cap, ran from back stage and almost devoured the girl's hand. Edith wrestled with the dog for a while, but eventually let go. Having achieved the bone, Pharaoh left the stage to sit at Lord Grantham's feet where he slobbered happily.
"Nana soon gave up and left the children to their own devices."
The audience erupted in laughter.
"Soon enough, the children tired of their playing and fell asleep." The light dimmed further as Carson covered the main lamp with an opaque cloth. Lady Edith gave several large, stage snores to sell the illusion. "Although they knew the danger, the children insisted on leaving the window open. And tonight, as on several other nights, a visitor flew in their window."
A glimmer of light appeared on the window sill. It was not very bright, but stood out well on the darkened stage. Several of the younger maids gasped as the light began to flit around the room, finally disappearing behind a clock on the fake mantle.
Lady Sybil/ Peter Pan climbed stealthily through the window wearing a hunter green shift tied at the waist with a band of leather. Anna clapped at the entrance, startling Sybil, who took a moment to bow gracefully to the audience before sneaking around the room. Obviously not finding what he sought, Peter Pan sat on the end of one of the beds and began to weep.
"Why are you crying, boy?" Wendy/Mary asked, pretending to give a great yawn and stretch to denote that she had awoken but was still sleepy.
"I have lost my shadow. I last saw him here. He is very mischievous, but I should very much like him back."
"Oh, that must be what Nana found. We've got him here." Wendy handed Peter a length of silk cloth, but Peter seemed unsure of what to do with it. "Shall I sew it on for you?"
"Yes, please."
The lamps were uncovered and the stage was once more awash in bright light. Mary pantomimed sewing the silk to Sybil's foot. John/Edith and Michael/Miss Randal both stretched and yawned in the background as they awoke.
"There; all fixed. What is your name, boy?"
"I am Peter Pan! I am Captain of the lost boys."
"Who are they?"
"They are the children who fall out of their prams when the nurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed in seven days they are sent far away to the Never-Land."
"What fun it must be."
"Yes, but we are rather lonely. You see, Wendy, we have no female companionship."
"Are none of the other children girls?"
"Oh no; girls, you know, are much too clever to fall out of their prams." Sybil paused here for the laughter to die down. The girls had insisted on keeping this exchange verbatim from the play and rightfully so.
Now they went off completely in their own direction. "Would you come to Never-Land and tell us your stories and be our mother? Your brothers may come as well."
"Yes, let us go, please, Wendy." John begged.
"Won't Mama, Papa and Nana miss us?"
"You can come back whenever you like." Peter assured her. "So long as they keep the window open."
"Alright, then. Let us go now. But how do we reach Never-Land?"
Peter pointed out the window. "Second to the right and straight on 'til morning."
"Do we walk?" Michael asked dully.
"Of course not! We fly! You do remember how to fly, don't you?"
"I am not sure I ever knew." Wendy confessed sadly.
"Oh, all children know how to fly when they are first born. But it is one of the first things we forget amongst all the many things we forget after we are born. You will remember very quickly with the help of pixie dust. Tinkerbell! Tink!"
Elsie's keys tinkled as the light rekindled behind the clock. The light landed briefly on each of the Darling children and then fluttered out the window.
"Now, follow me!" And Peter dove out the window. "To Never-Land!"
The three Darling children shrugged and jumped out the window as well. "To Never-Land!"
The narration returned as the curtain closed. "And so, the Darling children flew off to find Never-Land." Sometimes, Mr. Carson had to raise his voice to be heard above the scraping of props being moved on and off the stage. More than once, the narrator's voice moved behind the curtain to a particularly noisy part of the stage. Elsie knew he was helping them with the heavier items. "They flew all night because, as everyone knows, Never-Land can only be found in the morning. Peter and Tinkerbell led the children to their home in the Never Wood, where the lost boys awaited the arrival of the mother that Peter had promised them."
The curtain reopened and, from this point on, the play devolved into a confused mess. The Darling children, played by the two eldest Crawley girls and Miss Randal, were introduced to the lost boys, played by all the Crawley girls and Miss Randal. The different characters were signified by different hats or scarves or coats, but these soon became jumbled. Mr. Carson's narration tried to untangle the chaos, but could only do so much. Lady Edith kept glaring at him in the wings with each improvisation.
None of this mattered to the audience. Everyone was enjoying the spectacle immensely. Mrs. Hughes and Lady Grantham, being the only two in the audience with any inkling of the true plot were able to follow along somewhat, but both soon gave up trying and just let the play unfold before them.
Finally, the moment Mrs. Hughes had been waiting for arrived. Captain Hook strode onto stage, dwarfing the four other actors, who were currently portraying a total of nine characters. Elsie bit back a peal of laughter and was not entirely successful. Thankfully, Roger's loud hisses and boos covered her faux pas.
No one could have blamed her for laughing. Mr. Carson stood over the girls and Miss Randal wearing a long coat and brandishing his hook. He had drawn on a curly, black, greasepaint mustache and was wearing a fur stole as a wig under a homemade tricorner hat. He looked about as happy as a wet cat.
Without his narration, the plot dissolved entirely. Mostly, Captain Hook blustered and Peter Pan ran about teasing him. At one point, he did capture Tinkerbell in the lamp and impressed the audience with his pyrotechnics. And Sybil's impassioned plea for Tinkerbell's life had most of the audience clapping, even if they were not sure why they were meant to be clapping.
Finally, the big showdown happened and Captain Hook was kicked overboard to the waiting crocodile. Miss Randall, who had snuck off stage as planned, threw two glasses of water on stage from the wings to simulate the splash as Mr. Carson jumped past her. One glass of water caught Edith/Mr. Smee right in the face as she stepped forward to deliver her very important line. A great hand, that Mrs. Hughes would have sworn was a hook mere seconds before, reached out with a towel and wiped the sputtering Mr. Smee's face so he could say, "You are our Captain now, Peter Pan. Where would you have us sail?"
"To London, Mr. Smee. We must return the Darling children to their parents, who will adopt all the lost boys and any pirates who wish to remain in England."
With that, Mr. Smee took the ship's wheel as Peter Pan jumped upon the 'prow' of the ship and pointed the way.
Curtain.
The applause and cheering were disproportionate to the talent and skill of the production, but perfectly matched to the enjoyment of the audience. Roger jeered Mr. Carson one last time as the red eared butler took a reluctant bow with the rest of the cast.
Lord Grantham could not contain his pride. He beckoned the girls down from the stage and embraced them all at once. Pharaoh barked excitedly and the whole assembly laughed when they realized that the dog still wore the nurse's cap.
Though the run was short and there would be no notices in the papers, the play was long hailed locally as a theatrical triumph.
TBC…
A/N We should be wrapping up in the next chapter with some good ole bittersweet Chelsieness; more sweet than bitter, I promise. Thanks for sticking with me. Reviews are the loveliest things…hint hint.