Twenty-seven:
Letters from Home

19 March, 1901

Dear mum, dad, and Gracie;

I have arrived in York and unpacked my things. The room the teaching college has given me to use is very small – even smaller than the shared scullery maids' quarters at Downton. I've got just enough room for a half-pallet mattress (which rests upon a sliding set of drawers that functions as a dresser), a washstand, and a very small space to put my shoes by the door. The pillows are not so fine as we have at home, nor the bed coverings, and I feel very much that I am a stranger in a strange place.

My classes are going well; I am at the top of the literature, Latin, and French classes, middling at history, geometry, and social economics, and I am being tutored by Mrs. Langston in algebra and basic sciences, as they were not as well taught as they might like. I must pass those classes in order to get my certification. I am the youngest student here, which is why I have the room that is smaller than the closet Gracie and I share, and why there is a watchman posted in the corridor at night.

I am going to have tea with Aunt Becky after church on Sunday. I've bought some biscuits to take with the pocket money dad gave me at the station (and there is still some pocket money left for our next visit so I might get chocolates then), and I hope she will be happy to see me.

I miss you all and I love you!

Your girl,
Fiona

5 April, 1901

Dear Fiona,

The baker's boy asked of you after church. I think he thinks fondly of you and you must discourage him if you want to pursue a career in teaching, my darling girl. Besides, you are much too young to encourage gentlemen to set their caps in your direction.

Gracie is beginning to crawl; nanny can hardly keep up with her now, and I certainly cannot. I wonder if she is looking for you, darling, because she looks so very forlorn when she comes around a chair or the sofa and there is no one there. She misses you, as your father and I do.

I am pleased to hear that your classes are progressing well. Your father and I are very proud of you and have no doubt that you will come home with your teaching certification. Just remember to take the time to sleep and not to do as you normally do and continue pottering to all hours of the day and night.

I love you, my darling girl.

With all my love and blessings,
your mam

5 April, 1901

My darling girl;

Your mum says she is sending you a letter, and I begged that she might hold off long enough for me to scribble down a few things.

Firstly, I am glad to hear that you are well, if not slightly cramped in your lodgings. We must always remember that the grandeur that we are used to living in at Downton does not spill over into the rest of the world. We are humble people of humble stock, and we merely inhabit such a world.

Secondly, seeing as how you've already spent the majority of your pocket money on your Aunt Becky, I am sending more in this letter. You are entirely too kind and selfless, Fiona, and I wish you to have what you need even when you've given everything away to others.

Thirdly, I've not yet told your mum, but we are coming to visit you and Becky on April 30th. Please mark your calendar and make sure to communicate it to your teachers so we might have a visit without you being held in contempt for not being in class. Gracie, your mother, and I all miss you dreadfully. Beryl misses you even more, if such a thing is possible. I am ashamed to say that the big house is not the same without you in it.

Do not give your pocket money away.

Love,
your father

23 April, 1901

Dear dad;

I wanted to write to you separately from mum because I know she's always busy with Gracie, but I'm worried about her. She hasn't written like she promised and I just want to know that she's all right. I know that you're busy as well, but… I just need to know.

Classes remain just as before – boring for the most part, now that I understand the mechanics of algebra and science a bit better. Am I the only one that thinks science is rather like Auntie Beryl in the kitchen, throwing things at the wall until they stick?

I miss you all so very much,
Fiona

26 April, 1901

Dearest Fiona;

Mum has had many bad days mixed in with the good few. She did not write because she did not want to worry you with her 'whinging' and 'self-pitying'; I have, of course, told her that you are worried because she did not write, which led to rather a long shouting match. Your mum continues to be unwell and Dr. Henderson has prescribed a regimen of exercise and morphine that made her send him to the floor, cowering from fear that she would rip him apart. It is nice to know that she has enough spirit for two women, but must she show it at the most inopportune moments?

She is greatly looking forward to our visit to York: please do not tell her that I have written to you about her illness, my dear, or she might have my guts for garters.

Much love,
your much suffering father

April 1901

Fiona burst out of the teaching college as soon as she saw her father approaching. She knew she didn't look very much like a young lady as she threw her arms around him and wept with joy. "Daddy," she whispered, "I've missed you so much – where are mum and Gracie?"

"Mum took a turn last night," Charles said softly, holding her close, "and she's at the hotel with Gracie. She said I should go ahead with the visit and take you and Becky out for tea –"

"No!" Fiona yelped sharply. "No, we'll go visit mum," she said. "I want to see mum, dad."

"Sweetheart, she's in no shape to –"

"I don't care, and neither will Aunt Becky," Fiona said firmly. "We want to see her."

Charles sighed. "It's more than my life is worth…"

"She wasn't happy when you left, was she?" Fiona asked. "Then let me make her happy."

Charles sighed again, then said, "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, and I must be back by eight," Fiona said with a small smile. "They know I am spending the day with my family, or I would have to be back by five."

He took her arm, tenderly, fatherly tucking it around his as they walked down the cobblestones. "We have missed you very much, Fiona," he said softly.

"And I've missed you," Fiona replied with a smile. "I think I will be content to get my certification and return home to Downton forever, daddy. I shouldn't like to leave you and mum and Gracie too long."

He sounded very choked up as he said, "And we shouldn't like to lose you for very long, my darling girl."

END PART TWENTY-SEVEN