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Becky had taken her leave at the hospital's car park, speeding off in the police car. Elsie had been relieved to be spared further teasing for the moment. She had noticed how scared and helpless Charles had taken in his surroundings and she felt truly sorry for him. DC Kent had brought Elsie's car around, leaving the keys in the glove box. She had waited patiently for Charles to get in the car and was driving extra careful to not disturb him any further. He was staring out of the window and she wondered if he saw the place the way it had looked in 1912 and compared it to now. "It looks so different", he said quietly as if he had heard her thoughts. "Hardly anything is left."

"Well, it's been a hundred years", Elsie pointed out.

"It's strange. There are so many things I don't know. I don't know what they're good for, not even what they are called. I must appear very stupid to you", he mumbled.

"Oh no, not at all", she assured him. "Just ask if you'd like to know anything."

"Those lights? What are they good for?", he asked, pointing at the traffic lights.

"Well, they help coordinate the traffic. These days most people have a car, so to stop everyone from doing what they want we have rules. These lights are called traffic lights. Red means stop. And Green means go", she explained. Elsie had to admit to herself that it was odd, talking to a grown man like he was a child, but she wanted to help and if that was the way she helped than she wouldn't complain.

"And yellow tells you to prepare to go or stop?", he asked.

She nodded. He was a fast learner. "What else you wonder about, Mr. Carson?", she continued the conversation.

"Do we still have a king?", he asked worriedly.

She smiled. "We have a queen now, Elizabeth II."

"Is she any good?"

"I think she is, although you should know that she has only a representative role. We are a democracy now. Prime Minister is doing the political stuff with his government."

Charles didn't like these news, in fact, he hated the thought of being ruled by a government elected by every Tom, Dick and Harry old enough to do so. That the monarchy had survived in parts was only of little comfort. "The Empire?"

"Long gone", Elsie said.

"Who is Prime Minister?", he wanted to know.

"David Cameron, conservative. Don't like him much to be honest. But then again I don't care too much about politics", she answered.

Charles remained silent for a while. Elsie was sure he was working through these new bits of information. She hoped that getting to know the world he lived in would help his brain remembering that it was the world he had lived in all along. She parked in front of her house. When she turned off the engine, Charles spoke again: "You said there was a Second World War… So there must have been a first."

"There was. 1914 until 1918. Horrible", Elsie told him.

"That's in two years", he mumbled. Elsie chose not to comment on that. "Let's not talk about wars now", she said and got out of the car. "Come on in and then we decide what we'll have for dinner."

Charles followed her through the front garden. It wasn't huge, but Elsie had made the most of it. Lovely flowers grew alongside the fence and the gate was painted in a fresh brown. The house had strong brick walls, a nice pitched roof and two floors. He followed Elsie inside, awkwardly standing in the hallway while she threw her keys in a bowl on a small commode and put her jacket at the wardrobe. It smelled like flowers, lemon, tea, grass and – which made Charles frown – sweaty socks. Elsie sighed. "Tommy, please don't leave your sports socks with your shoes. No one wants to be greeted with the smell of your feet."

"Sorry, mummy", a young voice sounded from the first floor. Moments later a young boy came rushing down the stairs. He had light brown hair and his mother's eyes. Charles' presence surprised him. "Oh, ehm, hello", he said. "Are you the man we hit with the car earlier?"

"I am", Charles confirmed. "Charles Carson", he said, holding out his hand. The boy took it. "And you must be Tommy."

"Tom, actually. But I don't think anyone in this family remembers that", Tommy told him.

"What does that mean?", Charles asked.

"To them I'll always be little Tommy, but I'm not little anymore", Tommy explained.

"I see. You know I had a similar problem. I was called Charlie for the most part of my life."

"How did you get people to stop?"

"Well, one day I was all grown up and started living my own life. And when I became a footman, the butler insisted on everyone calling me Charles and so I insisted on it too", Charles told him.

"But I don't want to wait until I'm all grown up. And I don't want to be a footman. I want to be a cricketer", Tommy said.

Charles chuckled. "I understand. Well, Tom, I'm pleased to meet you."

Elsie felt very happy when Tommy's face brightened at being called Tom. "The socks", she reminded him then.

"Yes, mummy", Tommy answered, grabbing them and disappearing in the basement to put his socks in the linen bin.

"You have a wonderful boy, Mrs. Burns", Charles told her.

"Thank you, but don't judge too quickly", she laughed. "Shall I show you your room?"

"Yes, please." He followed her up the stairs, desperately trying not to stare at her bum. He hoped she wouldn't notice that he had blushed when they reached the guest room. It wasn't like him to be indiscreet, but then again he wasn't used to the company of a woman his age who wasn't either noble, married, both or a member of staff too. Alice was the only exception, but they hadn't spent that much time together. He stepped into the room. It was twice the size of his room at the Abbey. A nice old wardrobe stood in one corner, the bed was broad and looked comfortable for a man his size, the window offered a nice view on the garden and there even was an armchair.

"I'm afraid it's not properly furnished", Elsie said.

"It's nice, Mrs. Burns, really. I'm used to much less", he assured her.

"Well, let me know if there's anything you need. Would you like to shower?"

"If that's no trouble, yes", Charles admitted.

"It's no trouble at all", Elsie replied. Charles nodded gratefully. He left the bag with his belongings in the room and followed her to the bathroom which was right next door. It was spacious, clean, white and the smell of fresh soap filled the air. Elsie opened the cupboard underneath the sink and got out a towel. "You can use Tommy's shampoo. You know how everything works?", she asked.

"I'm not sure", Charles said. "It doesn't look that different, but better not risk anything."

"True", Elsie agreed. She quickly showed him how the shower and the loo worked. Charles was relieved that at least that hadn't gotten any more complicated.

"I'll be downstairs, seeing if Tommy and I can agree on what to have for dinner. Do you have any specific wish?", she asked kindly.

"Mrs. Burns, you are doing already more for me than I deserve. I shall be happy with whatever you and your son chose", he said earnestly.

"Ok, see you downstairs then", she told him with a smile and left, closing the door behind her. Charles stood motionless in the middle of the room for a few moments. Then he sighed deeply. He wanted to make the best of the situation and in a way it was made easier by the warm-hearted people who tried to help him with it, but he felt lost anyway. Rubbing his face, he forced himself to stay calm. He got undressed, folding the clothes and putting them in a neat pile next to the towel on the cupboard. After he had used the loo, he got in the shower and turned on the water. Closing his eyes, he just enjoyed the warm water running down his body. Then he turned and got the shampoo that said nivea for men from the tiny shelf that was fixed in the corner of the shower. It smelled nice and he freed his hair of the remaining pomade, sweat and the peculiar hospital smell. Switching the water off, he stepped outside and took in a sharp breath when the cold air of the room embraced him. He quickly picked up the towel and dried himself off. While he didn't like the way the modern clothes looked, he couldn't deny that they were comfortable. Not having a comb, he used his fingers to get his hair under control. He gave up quickly. The curls would do whatever they wanted if he didn't glue them to his head with pomade. More or less satisfied with how he looked, but at least thinking that he smelled much better, he made his way downstairs.

Elsie found Tommy in the living room, reading the latest Skulduggery book. He was sitting on the armchair with his legs crossed and looked up when she entered. Elsie sat down on the sofa, leaning back and relaxing.

"Is he staying with us?", Tommy asked.

Elsie nodded. "Are you ok with it?"

"He is nice", Tommy said.

"Yes, he is, but you know, there's something wrong with his memory. He doesn't remember who he is or anything at all, really. He is convinced that he is from 1912, so you might find him a little weird now and then", Elsie explained.

"Weird or not, he is nice." Tommy shrugged his shoulders while saying it and made Elsie smile. "So we help him together, right?", Elsie asked.

Tommy nodded and started reading again. After a few moments he started giggling and then burst into laughter. Elsie was used to it. She knew the style of the books and that there was a lot of sass and sarcasm in them. It was good for Tommy, because it made him laugh.

"Fancy pizza for dinner?", she asked.

"Yes, I'll have extra cheese and ham", he answered eagerly.

"Ok. How about you go to the supermarket and get ice cream while I go and fetch the pizza? And maybe take Mr. Carson with you?"

"Sure", he replied. "I just finish the chapter."

Elsie only now realised that the shower noises from upstairs had stopped. Then she heard Charles coming down the stairs. He found them easily, his large frame towering in the doorway.

"Feeling better?", Elsie asked.

"Much better, yes, thank you", he replied.

Elsie couldn't help, but smile softly. The curly hair made him look younger. He really was handsome. A good man, Elsie thought. "Tommy and I decided to have pizza for dinner", she told him.

"I'm afraid I don't know what that is", Charles replied, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"Well, then it's time you try it", Elsie said, not wanting to explain pizza. "Tommy is going to get us ice cream for dessert. Would you accompany him to the supermarket?"

"Of course", Charles said. "Supermarket… Is that what you call a grocery store these days?"

"Yes", Elsie confirmed. "Now, let's be off then, before it's getting any later."

Charles walked side by side with Tommy through the town Downton had become. The part Elsie lived in was nice. Mostly cottages, only a little different to those he knew, neat gardens and clean streets. The so called supermarket was small and in Charles' eyes a chaotic place. But Tommy seemed to know it well, navigating them safely through the aisles and getting strawberry and lemon ice cream filled in strange packages. They walked to what seemed to be the counter where they had to pay. A young girl was standing behind it, looking bored. She had long ginger hair, was wearing ridiculous huge earrings and quite revealing clothes.

"Hey, Gwen", Tommy greeted her.

"Hi", she replied half-heartily. "£4.10."

Tommy paid, all the while Charles waited patiently behind him.

"What's with that guy?", Gwen asked.

"Long story", Tommy said. "But he lives with us now."

"Your mum's got a boyfriend?", Gwen asked in disbelief.

"No, not like that. We hit him with our car and now he's got problems with his memory."

Gwen eyed Charles suspiciously. "Creep, but at least good looking", she then said, not seeing how his eyebrows shot up.

"Whatever", Tommy said. "See you."

When they were outside, Charles took the bag with the ice cream from Tommy. "Who was that?", he asked.

"That's Gwen, my cousin. Working there as temp."

"Miss Hughes has a daughter?", Charles asked confused.

"Yeah", Tommy said.

"But she isn't married", Charles pointed out.

"No, Gwen's dad left them on their own."

Charles decided to shut up. He shouldn't judge. Not in a world he didn't know.

Elsie balanced the three pizza cartoons home, laid the table and waited. Tommy and Charles came home a few minutes later. Her son put the ice cream in the freezer and joined them at the table. Charles watched how they ate the pizza with their hands and only hesitating shortly, he did the same.

Elsie had gotten him extra cheese and ham too, hoping that he would like it. It was obvious that he wasn't used to eating with his hands, but he seemed to be all right with it after a while. "You like it?", she asked.

Charles nodded. "It's very good." When he had finished he felt quite full. Elsie got up to clear the table, but Charles was quicker. "Let me do that, please."

Elsie didn't protest. She showed him where to put what and he was finished quickly. "Strawberry or lemon?", she then asked. "Ice cream", she added at his questioning look. "Strawberry, please", he replied. They returned to the table where Tommy started to hungrily spoon his strawberry ice cream while Elsie ate her lemon one much slower, finally stopping and looking at Charles. "We need to get you more clothes, Mr. Carson."

He looked up. After a moment of thinking about it, he nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Well, that are our plans for tomorrow then", she said. They had dessert in silence afterwards. When they were finished, Elsie and Charles cleared the table together while Tommy returned to his book. Charles was drying his hands off, looking out of the window. It would be dusk soon. Elsie watched him from the door, leaning in the doorway. It was nice to have him help her.

"Would you mind if I go for a walk?", Charles asked.

"Not at all. You are my guest, not my prisoner", Elsie chuckled. "You needn't ask for permission to do things, Mr. Carson."

Charles gave her a half smile and nodded.

"Would you mind if I join you?", she asked then.

"Not all. At least I'll have guarantee then that I won't get lost", Charles replied.

"Deal", Elsie laughed.

They walked side by side, their arms touching now and then. Elsie was telling him about the school and he listened. They walked past the cricket grounds and he asked about Tommy. She told him how much her boy enjoyed the sport. It had been half an hour since they had left the house. Elsie was leading him over a hill, the sunset right in front of them. The hill offered a nice view over Downton. Charles turned to his right, taking in the sight of the countryside in the distance. A trail let that way. It was a short cut that had lasted over decades. He knew what lay down that way. And his legs carried him in that direction. There was nothing he could do to stop. Elsie followed him, having a hard time to keep up with his long legs that had bursted into a very fast walk. The distance between them grew and she got a little angry at him for not waiting for her.

Charles only stopped when the building rose into the sky right in front of him. Time hadn't harmed the Abbey. It was still standing, even though everything else had changed. He took in the familiar sight. For a moment it felt like he was home again. Back where he was supposed to be. Then the front door opened and a man stepped out. He was wearing a suit and tiny reading glasses. His body was slim, his face haggard. And then he spotted Charles. It was dusk, so he had to squint his eyes a little to see Charles properly. Then the man came closer and gasped. "Dear lord above!"

"Mr. Carson!"

Charles turned around at the sound of Elsie's voice. She was coming towards him, clearly not amused. He felt stupid for letting her run after him instead of waiting. Stupid, foolish and above all lost.

"What's gotten into you?", Elsie scowled him.

"Mrs. Burns, I…"

"This is insane!", the man exclaimed.

"Excuse me, I'm trying to have a conversation here!", Elsie told the stranger. "Mr. Carson, why on earth didn't you wait for me? I thought we were having a nice conversation and then all of a sudden you turn and leave."

"Carson? Charles Carson?", the man asked in shock, a little excitement in his voice.

Suddenly Elsie's attention was drawn completely to the man. "You know Mr. Carson?", she asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure", the man admitted.

"That's a funny answer", Elsie replied.

"Forgive me, where are my manners. Simon Bricker, historian. I'm writing a book about Downton Abbey at the moment", he explained and shook Elsie's hand.

"Elsie Burns", she introduced herself. "So, what do you know about Mr. Carson here?"

"Well, that might sound less absurd if I showed you", he said. "If you'd follow me?" He led them into the Abbey. Elsie was fully aware of how Charles swallowed hard when he looked around the hall. He looked like he was flooded with memories.

"Through here", Mr. Bricker told them. Charles stepped into the library. He was close to tears seeing his home this way – hardly anything had changed and yet it felt cold and empty.

"They've allowed me to work in here. Creates the right atmosphere", Mr. Bricker said with a smile. "Now, let's see", he mumbled, going through a pile of documents on the old desk at the window where Lord Grantham had used to write his letters and deal with business concerning the estate.

"You are doing research here then?", Elsie asked.

"Yes, it's a privilege, really. I've been given free access to the place. Ah, there it is." Triumphantly he held a photograph in his hand. "That is remarkable!"

"What is?", Elsie asked.

Charles knew. It had been taken not long ago. "The family had taken photographs of all members of staff in March 1912", he said quietly.

Mr. Bricker looked at him over his glasses. "Exactly. This is the photograph of the butler", he told Elsie and handed it to her. She gasped in shock when she saw who was staring back at her from the black and white photograph. "My god, that's you", she whispered, holding it next to Charles to compare the two properly. "There's no doubt! That is you!", she shouted in shock.

"I told you", Charles replied quietly.

"How is that possible?", she asked. "What happened?"

"That's a very strange story, Mrs. Burns", he answered.

"Well, historically the butler disappeared and was assumed dead when they found his pocket watch damaged close to a tree that had been uprooted. A hall boy called Henry was the only witness and he swore that Charles Carson had disappeared into thin air and not died. Of course they all agreed that the boy was just in shock. They had a service for the butler and he was given a small memorial on the cemetery since there was no body to be buried. It's weathered now, unreadable", Mr. Bricker told them.

Charles found it hard to breathe. "What happened then?"

"Well, they carried on, got a new butler, suffered through two world wars before they had to open the place to the public to keep it. They didn't have enough money to run it by themselves, so they moved to London and ever since the Abbey has been a tourist attraction. The Crawleys still live in London. They are a rather ordinary family now", Mr. Bricker concluded. "Would you write down your name for me, Mr. Carson?", the historian then asked.

Charles didn't ask why, but simply took the pen and scratched his name on paper. Charles Carson.

"Fascinating, it really is you!", Mr. Bricker exclaimed, comparing the hand writing to on old document.

Elsie sat down on the settee, not quite understanding what just had happened. She turned to Charles. "So, you were born in 1856 and really don't know this place?"

"I've told you nothing but the truth", he said.

"Well, fuck", she commented. "Just… fuck."

"I think it's extraordinary. Such a pity I can't include it in my book. People would think I'd gone nuts." Mr. Bricker laughed. "Anyway, it's an honour to have met you in person, Mr. Carson."

Charles ignored the historian, carefully stepping closer to Elsie. "Are you all right?"

She got up. "I'm in shock and a little confused, I'll admit that, but what about you? You must feel terrible!"

"I'm not all right, but far from terrible. Your help is making it easier", he told her.

"I'm glad." She shook her head in disbelief. "This is insane. Are you sure you are not a descendant of that Charles Carson?"

"Charles Carson had no relatives. His parents were dead, no siblings, maybe distant cousins, but it's impossible to find out", Mr. Bricker told her. "There's no doubt. He looks just like Carson and his handwriting is the same. These are no accidents."

"I really am Charles Carson. And it's true. I don't… I didn't have any living relatives back in 1912", Charles confirmed.

Her dark blue eyes looked at him filled with concern. "That must have been hard."

"It were different times, Mrs. Burns", Mr. Bricker pointed out.

"And I had the staff and the Crawleys. It was a good life", Charles added her.

"And you'd like it back", Elsie concluded.

"Yes, but I can't have it back, can I?", Charles replied sadly. He forced himself to keep his composure. His throat had tightened, his knees were weak, his mouth dry. He felt grief. Grief for what he had lost to time. Everyone he knew dead, mostly everything he knew changed. "Excuse me for a moment", he said and walked outside. Away from this place that made him feel so lost, confused and sad that he felt sick. A sob escaped his throat when he breathed in the fresh air. He put his hands on his knees, leaning forward, eyes closed, fighting with tears. Another sob. He was shaking, threatened to collapse. And then there was a hand on his shoulder and another on his upper arm, trying to steady him. He knew it was Elsie. She didn't say a word, just stood there with him, steadying him while he cried. The sun had set when he had calmed, taking deep breaths and rising up, his back aching from the position he had been in. He couldn't speak. And even if he had been able to, he didn't know what to say. But Elsie did. "Mr. Carson, I promised to help you and I won't go back on my word. The situation might have changed, but for the better I daresay. I can understand you now. And that helps me to help you." She spoke words of comfort. But they didn't reach him. He wasn't looking at her, gently freed himself from her hands. "I don't belong here, Mrs. Burns. I'm beyond help." And with that he walked away.

Elsie was worrying her bottom lip and followed. They didn't speak. He walked on the side of the road like any gentleman would have done, safely accompanying her back to her house. Tommy was in his pyjamas when they entered. He seemed to sense that something was amiss and bit them good night. Elsie felt like she should say more, do more, but looking at Charles she knew it would do no good. He was pale; his eyes dull, like he was dead.

This world might have welcomed him, but in a cold, unfeeling way. It had let him know that he wasn't supposed to be here. He looked up. His brown eyes searching her blue ones. She was there, looking at him. "Nobody is beyond help", she whispered. "And I think that you are supposed to be here for whatever reason." She stepped towards him. "We will figure out something, okay?"

"I'm grateful", he stated simply.

"We should get some sleep", she replied, receiving a nod from him. He walked past her and startled when she squeezed his hand. "Welcome in 2012, Mr. Carson", she said softly, letting go of him. "Because you are welcome, truly."

"I've got to build a new life", he said more to himself than to her.

"Yes, step by step. Just remember that you aren't alone in this", Elsie reminded him. "Maybe you should avoid the Abbey for a while. I think seeing your old home gets you in a state of despair."

"It does", he admitted. "I'm sure I'll be better in the morning. It was all too much today, for both of us."

Elsie nodded in agreement. "Good night, Mr. Carson."

"Good night, Mrs. Burns. And thank you, for everything", he said sincerely, heading up the stairs and disappearing into the safety of his room. He had trouble falling asleep. Worries over worries raced through his mind. At some point, exhaustion won and he got his rest. He was woken by Tommy who gently tapped his shoulder. The boy was still in his pyjamas and a little sleepy. "Morning, Mr. Carson. It's 6:30. Breakfast is at seven."

"Thank you, Tom", Charles mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tommy shuffled out of the room and Charles heard the bathroom door closing. He freed himself from the blanket and got up.

"Tommy's not exactly a morning person", Elsie's voice sounded from the door. She was already dressed and ready for the day. Charles blushed, standing there just in his undershorts and the t-shirt, but he held his tongue. "I've overslept for the first time in my life", Charles replied instead.

"My, my, you are an early bird then?", Elsie wondered.

"Usually I'm up between four and five", he said. "A Butler's life."

"Sounds exhausting. I go and make breakfast", she told him and disappeared down the hall.

Tommy was quickly finished in the bathroom and Charles splashed cold water in his face. Ten minutes later he sat downstairs and tried not to smile at the sight Tommy was. He was almost falling asleep while spooning his porridge. Elsie was reading the newspaper. "You are very quiet for an early bird", she pointed out, folding the paper and putting it beside her plate.

"I always thought there was something rather foreign about high spirits at breakfast", he explained, sipping his tea.

Elsie laughed. "That was very English. Tommy, finish up. You've still got to pack your bag."

"I clear up", Charles said. "When does school start?"

"Lessons start at 8:45 here. I've got to be there earlier of course and Tommy chose to hand out the newspapers in this part of town before school. I told him not to, but he wouldn't listen. Now he hates mornings", Elsie informed Charles. "Come on, Tommy. You must be off in five minutes."

"Don't rush me", he mumbled, sliding off the chair to get his things.

"I'll pick you up at around three. We'll drive to York to get some proper shopping done. You can do whatever you like until then. Go for a walk, read or relax in the garden. Make yourself comfortable", Elsie told him.

"Thank you, Mrs. Burns. I'll look after your house", Charles assured her.

"Good. See you then", she said, grabbing her car keys. He heard the engine of the car and saw her driving off through the window. Tommy got his bike and was off too, leaving Charles all by himself. He stepped into the garden and breathed in the morning air. So today he was going shopping in York in 2012. What a strange thought, but Charles felt all right. He knew he could count on Elsie Burns' support.

So that was Charles first 2012 experience, a few doubts and a bit of despair, but he got Elsie, right? Next: The two make a shopping trip to York.