The Village of Downton, Yorkshire, England

On a Thursday afternoon in the summer of 2023 a young woman with light brown hair approached the bar of the Grantham Arms, obviously lost as she looked down at her phone before looking up to the woman who had approached her behind the bar and stated, "I was hoping someone could tell me if any of the Molesley family members still live in the village."

"Oh." The woman frowned slightly, but didn't seem offended or put off by his question. "The Molesley family hasn't lived here for quite some time now. Are you looking for someone specific?"

"I'm not, actually." She replied with a sigh. "Just trying to find some answers about my Dad's side of the family. Thanks for your help."

"Hang on." The woman behind the bar stopped her as she turned away from the counter. "I know someone you might be able to talk to. Just give me a moment."

The woman disappeared for several moments before coming back out and waving for her to follow her to the back. "I'm Olivia Bates." She introduced herself as they began climbing the stairs. "My grandfather, Johnny Bates, was friends with the Molesleys who used to live here. If anyone can help you, it'll be him."

"I'm Sophie." She introduced herself in return. "Sophie McLain."

"Alright, Sophie." Oliva offered a warm smile as they reached the top of the stairs and headed to the end of the corridor to an open door that she directed her towards. "He's just in here."

"Thank you." Sophie nodded before making her way into the room and clearing her throat to get the attention of the man in front of her. "Excuse me, Mr. Bates?"

"Johnny, please." The old man insisted at he looked up from the crossword in his lap. "Mr. Bates was my father."

"Of course." Sophie nodded as she tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the statement coming from a man who must be well into his nineties. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I understand you might know something about the Molesley family that used to live in the village?"

"I do." He nodded with a bright smile. "I was very good friends with the Molesley family.

"I'm…" Sophie stumbled as she tried to figure out how to broach the subject. "I think I'm maybe related to them?"

"Oh." Johnny's voice raised in slight surprise and he reached up to remove his glasses as he stumbled through a question of his own. "Are… was your father adopted?"

"Yes." Sophie nodded as she moved to sit across from the man. "His birth certificate doesn't list a father, but the mother that's listed is Elizabeth Molesley. It says he was born in York, which isn't here, but it's close by, and while I haven't found an Elizabeth Molesley in York I found records of an Elizabeth Molesley that did live in the village so I thought it might–"

"You've got the right Elizabeth Molesley." Johnny stopped her gently.

"The artist, then?" Sophie pressed for confirmation. "The painter?"

"That's her." Johnny replied with a smile. "I was very good friends with her."

"And she had a son that she gave up?" Sophie asked eagerly. "You know that?"

"I do." Johnny assured her once again. "Actually, I was even there when she went into labor. Though I thankfully can't say I was there when the baby arrived."

"Oh." Sophie chuckled awkwardly. "I suppose that would have been a bit much."

"You're here without your father." Johnny observed in an attempt to redirect their spiraling conversation, only for it to spiral even further.

"He's dead." Sophie replied quietly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Johnny replied gently. "Was it recent?"

"Yeah. Last year. It was cancer." Sophie explained softly. "A brain tumor."

"Huh." Johnny leaned back in fascination as he noted, "Elizabeth's father, Joseph, he died of brain cancer. So did his father. That's something you should note for your own medical history."

"Oh." Sophie nodded in understanding, making a quick note in her phone of the information before looking back up to him and asking, "Is it… is it how she died too?"

"No." Johnny replied with a sad smile. "She died from COVID complications a few years ago."

"Fuck." Sophie sighed in disappointment only for her eyes to grow wide as she rushed to apologize. "Sorry."

Johnny laughed at the panicked apology and quickly reassured her. "Your grandmother would've said the same."

Sophie smiled slightly before asking, "You said you were friends?"

"We were friends for most of our lives, her, her sister and I practically grew up at The Abbey where our parents worked." Johnny nodded in confirmation. "I knew her as well as anyone else."

"What was she like?" Sophie asked eagerly.

"Feisty. Determined. Kind." Johnny listed off easily. "She was the best of humanity."

"Did she ever marry?" Sophie probed further. "Is there anyone else I might find to talk to?"

"No." Johnny shook his head. "She made plenty of excuses about not having time, or finding the right person, but I think it just wasn't her disposition. I think she didn't have any interest in any of it."

Sophie made another note in her phone before asking, "You said she had a sister?"

"Emma." Johnny replied with a smirk before pointedly adding, "And her wife Sybbie."

"I'm sorry, did you say wife?" Sophie stared back at him in confusion.

Johnny nodded with a small chuckle. "I know that many people my age are keen to believe that we simply can't understand such things, but I grew up with Emma and Sybbie. I've always known that they loved each other. Even when they tried to hide it.."

"So they wouldn't've had children either." Sophie shook her head in disappointment.

"Actually, they kind of did." "Emma and Sybbie were nurses and they cared for twins who had been orphaned in an accident in the village. Michael and Eleanor."

"Are they–?" Sophie asked only to stop as Johnny gave a sad shake of his head.

"The twins passed long before their mothers." Johnny explained gently. "They both had cystic fibrosis, and it was before any real treatment options were available. Michael lived to about twelve and Eleanor made it to fifteen if I remember correctly."

"God." Sophie shook her head. "How tragic."

"It wasn't. At least not really." Johnny assured her. "When they took them in both Emma and Sybbie knew their time with Michael and Eleanor would be limited and they got over a decade more than what they'd expected with them both."

Sophie smiled with a nod before thinking through all of the people the man had named and verbally realizing, "So there's no one left."

"Well, there's you." Johnny reminded her with a smile.

Sophie shook her head in protest. "Yeah, but I'm not…"

"You're a part of their family, Sophie." Johnny insisted. "They'd want you to know that and your grandmother is the strongest person I've ever known. You should be proud to be a part of her."

The pair sat in awkward silence after that until Johnny asked. "You know, most young folks like you don't care much about what came before them. Can I ask what has you all the way back here?"

"I'm an Art History master's student at the University of Edinburgh." Sophie explained, an immediately obvious passion in her voice as she dove into the topic. "My thesis started as an exploration of mid-century feminist art in Europe, but I found myself entirely entranced with one of Elizabeth's pieces. It wasn't until after my dad died last year and I was helping my Mum with the paperwork that I realized who she might be to me. So now it's a biography. Or at least that's what I'm hoping for it to be. I want to tell her story."

Without hesitation Johnny immediately turned toward the door and called out, "Lucy!" waiting a moment before an older woman that Sophie assumed might be his daughter arrived at the door before he asked, "Would you mind going up to the attic and fetching that folio with Elizabeth's things in it?"

The woman nodded, returning only a moment later with a large brown folio that she placed on the tea table in front of them before asking, "Anything else, Dad?"

"That'll do it, darling." He assured her before turning back to Sophie and prompting, "Well, go ahead. Open it."

Sophie sifted through papers and books that meant nothing to her from the outside until she found a thick canvas at the back of the file that she pulled out to reveal a portrait of a baby that was incredibly familiar. "I think this is my Dad."

"I can't really think of anyone else it could be." Johnny admitted with a smile. "She never said it was, and I don't think she ever saw him, she wasn't ready, but it probably is."

"It looks… just like his baby portrait." Sophie shook her head in disbelief as she scrolled through her phone until she found the photo to show the man. "Like… uncannily."

"Well it's yours if you'd like it." Johnny replied with a smile as he compared the pictures.

"Oh no!" Sophie shook her head in protest. "I couldn't."

"Sophie, my kids aren't going to want any of this when I eventually kick the bucket." Johnny replied evenly. "They knew the Molesleys growing up, but they were never close with them. I don't think any of my grandkids even met any of them."

Sophie stared down at the items in front of her as if they were the most valuable things in the world before she looked back to him and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Anything in here that you want is yours." Johnny replied. "Just promise me you'll do Lizzie justice in this book you're writing. If you're going to tell her story, you need to tell it all."

Sophie continued sorting through the items, asking various questions as she went before eventually stopping as she pulled a thin journal from the folio. "Is this her diary?"

"One of them." Johnny nodded. "There's a few more in here. I haven't read them, but I know this one-" He paused to lift a worn brown leather wrapped journal from the back of the accordion file. "Is from when she was pregnant with your dad."

"Oh." Sophie whispered in obvious awe.

"I should warn you that if the others are anything like this one you're going to find more sketches than text." Johnny explained with a grunt as he moved back into his chair. "Emma was typically seen as the more articulate of the Molesley sisters, but Elizabeth always found a way to say what she needed to. Even if it wasn't with words."

Sophie nodded as she began to gather up the items she'd spread across the floor to carefully place them in back into the file. "Is there anywhere else I should be going while I'm in Downton?"

Johnny nodded with a grin, asking. "How long do you have?"

"As long as it takes."