THE RETURN OF THE BUTLER

Charles didn't plan to be gone for so long, nor to leave like a thief in the early hours. He just could not sleep and gasped for a bit of fresh air. It felt so liberating to walk with the cool breeze pushing him further forward and the smell of the ocean encouraging him. He walked and walked until he ended up in the middle of nowhere, somewhere a couple of villages down. It was almost 5 o'clock when he decided it might be a good time to head back. He found and took the bus back; his feet were sore from all the walking he had done that day.

When he finally arrived back at the hotel, he saw his friends and his wife were already dining. Without being spotted, he hurried upstairs to change and then came down afresh. He startled everyone when he suddenly stood tall in front of their table.

"Charlie! Where have you been?" Elsie questioned him, standing up abruptly, struggling to keep balance. But he didn't look at her, nor replied to her.

He turned to the Masons instead. "I just wanted to let you know I've returned, and that I will have my dinner at the bar." Then he turned on his heel, leaving everyone in mild shock.

He ordered a glass of whiskey and some stew. He was trying to ignore the looks and whispers coming from his friends' table.

"Go on then, Albert." Mrs Patmore nudged her husband, pointing her chin towards the butler. "Go and talk to him."

"Beryl, I told you, I don't think it's a good idea." The farmer tried to convince her one more time.

"What's this?" Mrs Hughes wanted to be in the picture.

"I said to Mr Mason he should try talking to Mr Carson, man to man." She explained but the housekeeper didn't say anything, just kept fiddling with her napkin.

"Mrs Carson agrees with me-" Albert started but Elsie interrupted him.

"No, no." She shook her head. "Anything's worth a try, I'm just not sure it will work."

"See!" Mrs Patmore raised her eyebrows and prodded him again.

"But she's not sure if it will-" He stopped mid-sentence and gave up when he saw both the ladies' pleading eyes piercing him. "Alright, alright."

Soon he sat down on a stool clumsily, next to the butler who was just finishing up his stew. He asked Mr Bennet (who was now working as a barman) for the same drink as Charles was having.

"Cheer up, Mr Carson, it can't be as bad as that." He said after a few long moments of awkward silence between the two men.

Mr Carson turned to the farmer with one eyebrow raised up high. "Did they send you?" He clocked it immediately.

"Yeah," Albert whispered, defeatedly, worried he might have made things worse already.

"Why do women always feel the need to meddle in everyone's business?"

"I don't-"

"What did they ask you to tell me?"

"Well," Mr Mason still wasn't sure how to approach this. "Beryl asked me to remind you how loyal your wife is." He tried to put together and translate his wife's previous suggestions into a more appropriate language.

"Loyal?" Mr Carson inhaled sharply. "Didn't this revelation - this secret date she went on - just prove otherwise?"

"I wouldn't say that-"

"Well, I would." Charles insisted, took a sip of his whiskey, and stopped for a second. "And what did-" His voice was suddenly quite weak and tense. "What did Mrs Carson ask you to tell me?"

"She didn't give me any specific instructions, Mr Carson. It was mostly Beryl's idea, Mrs Carson said just to try and talk to you."

"I see." He didn't succeed in hiding his disappointment.

Another long silence break followed.

"I hope this won't sound impertinent but, why don't you just talk to her about it, I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this disloyal mishap as you say." Mr Mason broke the peace.

Mr Carson exhaled loudly. "I don't know. But I hope you are right." He looked over his shoulder towards his wife and noticed she was watching him.

"Let me give you one piece of advice, Mr Carson."

"Go on."

"Don't dwell on the past. Life's too short for that." Mr Mason scratched his nose. "You never know how much longer any of us will be here. You don't want one mistake to ruin what you have. Take our William, for example, we had quarrels sometimes, he used to have a lot of quarrels with his mother when he was a teenager, but the memories that stick are the happy memories and the love we all had for each other. I would never forgive myself if I'd let anything come between us. I can't imagine how I would feel if we were at odds when he-" He stopped himself as he could feel emotions taking over him.

"Of course, of course, you can't imagine that Mr Mason, you loved him very much." Mr Carson consoled him; he was touched by his words.

The farmer just nodded at him in appreciation.

Mr Carson finished the last of his drink and stood up, ready to leave. "You are right, and I will talk to her, Mr Mason, thank you." Yet instead of to her table, he headed straight upstairs to their room, without sparing her a single look.