Ivy's 5th birthday became a quieter affair than planned with Robert in hospital. It took a couple more days before Ivy was taken up to the Hospital to visit and open her presents. Emma thinks it's rather sweet to see how the relationship between Robert and her daughter has developed.
Emma, now eight months pregnant, sits in a chair next to the bed Robert lies in. Robert, in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed, still looking a little worse for wear from his illness and surgery. He's holding one of the Open House flyers. Tom stands by the bed, Mary sits on the bench at the foot of it, and Cora is in an armchair. By the fireplace, Dr Clarkson is packing up his bag after checking on his patient.
"But what are they paying to see?" Robert huffs. "We have nothing to show 'em. A decent Reynolds, a couple of Romneys and a Winterhalter. That's your lot. They'd do better taking a train to London and visiting the Tate."
"That's not the point." Tom argues.
"People want to see a different sort of home. It's not the things in it." Mary adds.
"How the other half lives?" Robert says, disgruntled.
"Look, you might not think it's much because you're surrounded by it everyday but these people haven't. There's curiosity about these places, about this way of life." Emma argues. She literally was one of these people with her National Trust membership and everything.
"Dr Clarkson, what do you feel?" Robert asks the doctor.
"Keeping people healthy takes a lot of money in this day and age. We could raise more than you think." Comes the reply.
"Robert, we are opening for one day for charity, and there's an end to it. Mary and Tom have made the decision." Cora says, her tone declaring finality.
Robert pulls an annoyed face. "Ah. I know well enough that when Mary has spoken, my opinion has little bearing on the matter."
"You don't really mind, do you?" Mary asks.
"No, but I think it's crackers."
Emma and Tom exchange an amused look.
—
"It's funny how confused he is about why we're bothering to open the house and why the hell anyone would come." Emma chuckles as she lies slumped on their bed as Tom rubs her ankles before they head downstairs for afternoon tea with the others.
"Well, you can tell him he's wrong," Tom remarks, his thumb digging into a particularly tired and strained muscle causing Emma to let out a contented sigh.
"You know I can't tell him, or any of them, that I know that because I was a part of the lot going about these big houses in the future." Emma retorts.
"Must be funny though, you spent years traipsing around these old houses, seeing those photographs of the family and their servants and now here you are."
"Here I am," Emma huffs in disbelief, "casually suggesting to Mary a way we can raise money for the Hospital while pretending it's all such a foreign notion to me and having my eight month pregnant ankles being rubbed by my darling husband."
"He is rather, I think." Tom grins causing them both to laugh.
Emma sighs, looking down at her protruding stomach and stroking it causing the baby inside to nudge her hand. "What do you think it'll be this time? We've had a girl, a boy, what next?"
"Hmm. I don't know. I don't mind." Tom replies.
"Me neither."
Tom pauses in his rubbing, looking up at her. "Do you think this'll be our last?"
"I think so. I grew up as the eldest of three and it was a nice number." She answers.
"Is that the only reason?"
"No, but, Tom, I'm 35 now, I'm entering my high risk era. Another baby would be more dangerous for me." Emma replies honestly.
"Didn't your mother have you all in her late 30s and early 40s?" Tom questions.
"May I remind you that she was having children in the early 2000s and not the 1920s?" Emma retorts jovially.
Tom's resulting shrug admits defeat and goes back to rubbing her ankles. Emma frowns as she watches him.
"Is that alright though? Not having anymore children after this one?"
Tom looks up, startled. "Of course. I'd be happy with just three. I wouldn't want to force you into anything."
Emma smiles softly at him.
—
Emma sits on one settee in the Library with Tom next to her across from Mary and Cora as they sit in the other. Andy stands to attention by the table as Billy serves himself. Edith comes walking in, just back from taking a phone call in the Hall.
"Who was it?" Emma asks her.
"Bertie Pelham. He's going to be in London on the 6th, and he wanted to meet up."
Hmm… seems things are moving along well with those two.
"Why don't you ask him to stop in here on his way back to Northumberland?" Cora suggests. "If you'd like to."
"I would rather." Edith answers as she helps herself to tea while Billy takes a seat.
"Is he worth it?" Mary asks. Emma would describe it as anything but genuine encouragement and interest in her sister's love life.
"As opposed to your car mechanic?"
"I'm a car mechanic, thank you!" Tom retorts without any heat in his voice.
"It's nice to see how they view us, eh Tom?" Billy chuckles.
"We're opening the house that weekend. He may have some ideas." Cora continues.
"Well, I'll ask him." Edith says.
Mary doesn't look very enthusiastic at the prospect.
"I'm going to get more tea." Emma says, moving to stand.
Tom's immediately there, hovering. "I can get it for you."
"No, no, I'm alright. I can still do things you know." Emma huffs as she stands (admittedly with his help) and proceeds to walk (wobble) to the table.
"She's right, Tom. Nothing's more irritating for a pregnant woman than not being able to do anything herself." Mary quips.
"Sybil reminded me of that daily." Billy adds. There's a sad but fond chuckle from everyone. Emma sees that Edith remains silent, unable to bond with them all over the trials of pregnancy.
At the table, Andy holds up a plate of cake to her. "Ma'am?"
"Oh, thank you, Andy." She takes a slice.
He puts the plate down once she's taken a slice. Emma watches him as tidies a crumb that had landed on the table.
"Thomas tells me he's been helping you with your reading that Mr Mason gave you?" Emma broaches the topic.
Andy tenses. "Did he? What did he say?"
Emma frowns in confusion before mentally shaking her head and physically shrugging. "Oh, just that cause they're about farming, a topic that's unfamiliar, you've had a little trouble with it."
Andy relaxes. "Er, yes, Mr Barrow's been very helpful, Mrs Branson."
Emma smiles. "That's good. Well, I hope you do well, you know, with the farming."
"Thank you, Mrs Branson."
—
The next day, Emma and Cora are urgently called to Isobel's and on entering the Drawing room, Emma is startled to see Dr Clarkson is already there. He's holding a letter in his hand.
"We got your message. What's happened?" Cora questions Isobel.
"I'll ring for some coffee." Isobel says instead. She seems rather tense and uneasy.
"You sound as if you need to sit down more than I do." Emma half-jokes. She takes a nearby seat while the others remain standing.
"If you mean is it serious, it is." Dr Clarkson says, indicating the letter he's holding. "I received a letter this morning from the Board of Governors."
"Go on." Cora urges.
"They are going to combine us with York."
Ugh, finally.
"As we knew they must." Cora says.
"Indeed. I am to remain in my post here." Dr Clarkson continues.
Emma nods. "Good."
"Mrs Crawley is to stay on as our Almoner."
"Very sensible."
"But they want to offer the role of President to you." Dr Clarkson adds, turning to Cora.
Wait, what?
Cora is highly surprised. "Me? Why?"
"You made a good impression when you went into York."
"I don't understand. What about Mama?"
Ah, yes, oh dear, Violet will not be happy.
"Lady Grantham is to be, and I quote," Dr Clarkson turns to his letter once again, "'allowed to step down after so many years of noble service.'"
Wow.
Cora's jaw drops, and she has to sit down. Isobel sits down with her.
"Golly. They've sacked the captain." Cora utters.
"You can see their point." Emma argues. "What's the point of them having someone managing a system that they don't even believe in?"
Cora turns to Dr Clarkson. "And you support this notion?"
Dr Clarkson begins to reply but is quickly drowned out by Isobel talking right over him, "Of course he does. He put your name forward as replacement."
Cora looks at Dr Clarkson, utterly taken aback.
"Lady Grantham is not as young as she was," Dr Clarkson begins to explain, "and, as Mrs Branson says, I'm afraid she'd be almost willing the new regime to fail."
"Probably." Cora admits.
"Besides, I want to involve the new President in the logistics of running things. She would never have agreed to take that on." Dr Clarkson further says.
"So, I'm to step into her shoes and then be given more responsibility than she had?" Cora questions.
"We both think you'd be marvellous." Isobel says fondly.
Emma nods encouragingly. "She's right, though who's going to tell her?"
"They'll write, as soon as they hear back from me." Dr Clarkson says.
Well, that's at least a bit reassuring.
"I need to talk to Lord Grantham." Cora says.
"The thing is, we don't want someone to come up with another name."
"Don't we? It might be easier all around if they did."
Cora's terribly in two minds about this whole idea. Emma can see the moment on Isobel's face when she realises this, too.
—
Emma's visiting Robert, having gotten back from her meeting with Dr Clarkson, Isobel and Cora when Mary comes in to say her goodbyes.
"We're off," Mary says. She sits down on the other side of the bed to Emma. "I'm taking Billy. It's time he had a break."
Mary is going up to London to take Anna for an appointment to see Dr Ryder because Anna hasn't been feeling well but Mary has also made plans to go out for dinner, a dinner that includes a certain Henry Talbot along with Evelyn Napier.
Emma nods. "Good, he needs it. All he does these days is work, see Sybbie then hang around us in his spare time."
"Oh, I envy you. I'm so sick of this room, I could scream." Robert grumbles.
Emma stifles her laugh at the sight of the great Earl of Grantham looking like a child who's been told by his mother that he's not allowed to do what he wants.
"Barrow was in the Gallery, looking rather glum. Do we know why?" Mary asks.
"We've talked about making changes in the household. Carson and I both feel he's the obvious candidate." Robert explains.
Emma looks at him in surprise. She knows they need to cut down, and of course she does, she's married to the agent, but Thomas?
Mary looks similarly shocked as well. "You're not going to sack him?"
"I hope not. I hope he's going to find another job."
"Oh, so he'll stay in a house where his employer doesn't want him until he does?" Emma retorts heatedly.
Robert looks startled at her comment.
"Well, that explains it." Mary cuts in. "He's awfully sweet with the children. You do know that?"
"And when George is older, he can ask him back." Robert counters. Emma rolls her eyes at that.
"Goodbye, darling. Get some rest." Mary kisses him and, with a squeeze of Emma's hand, walks out.
"Rest." Robert scoffs.
"Don't worry, I'll be joining you soon." Emma quips though not with much sympathy or reassurance in her tone.
"You're annoyed at me, aren't you?" Robert states rather than asks. "Over how we're treating Barrow."
Emma raises an eyebrow. "What ever gave you that idea?" She stands to leave. "But at least you're self aware."
—
The next day, Anna, Mary and Billy return with the good news that Anna's pregnancy isn't in any danger and it is simply the body adjusting though Dr Ryder's given her exercises and suggested a warm towel if the feeling lingers. Also, Mary spending time with Henry Talbot apparently went well according to Billy though Mary remains tight-lipped.
Then its soon it's the day before the house opening and Bertie Pelham has made his entrance. Emma is happy to see him again particularly when watching him and Edith interact. Edith had pulled Emma and Tom to the side earlier to say that Bertie had even joined her when she checked on the children before they came downstairs as well. Emma's really happy for her as Edith has always been the sister down on her luck but now it seems things are looking up.
Once all are seated, except for Robert who's still in bed, the conversation soon moves to discussing the open house day.
"You've probably thought of this, but I'd place someone, maybe a servant, in each room the public will enter. Just to keep an eye on things." Bertie says.
"Literally." Mary quips.
"I think that's a good idea," Billy agrees, "but I really don't think anyone's going to actually steal anything."
"You never know."
"Carson, can you sort it out?" Cora asks the butler.
"Of course, M'lady." Mr Carson replies. "I understand it's only the ground floor."
"Not too much of that." Mary dismisses. "They'll start in the Small Library, then through the Big Library, into the Painted room, the Drawing room, the Smoking room, the Great Hall, in and out of the Dining room and back outside."
"Should be a small tour then. Maybe we should open upstairs?" Emma can't help but quip sarcastically.
Tom, Billy, Bertie and Edith are all amused by her comment as well as Thomas, Andy and Mr Molesley while Cora and Mary shake their heads and Mr Carson gives her a scathing lip.
"Rope off across the staircases and the back wing." Bertie says to Mr Carson before turning to the rest of them. "Who are the guides?"
"Do we need guides?" Tom questions.
He glances at her as if to say: "Why didn't you mention guides?" to which Emma shrugs as she genuinely forgot about that though she's pretty sure most National Trust houses had a person in the room rather than a tour guide taking people around.
"Heh, I don't think so. Not if you want them to go away happy, and leave behind what's not theirs." Bertie replies. "Who knows about the history of the house?"
"Only our librarian, Mr Pattinson, but he's away." Edith answers.
"You'll have to fake it. Lady Mary, Edith, Mr Branson..."
You can tell this guy used to be a career soldier. He talks like a field marshal mustering his forces. However, Emma can appreciate someone actually taking this open house event seriously.
"Not me." Tom cuts in. "I don't know a thing. I'll sell tickets, but that's it."
"Me too. I'd love to help with the tours but I don't think my body would agree with me." Emma says regretfully.
"Well, then, Lady Grantham, you and your daughters and Mr Prior can take parties of ten each, with no more than thirty in the house at any one time." Bertie decides.
"God…" Billy seems to be almost balking at the prospect.
"Crikey." Edith splutters at her (technically) boyfriend.
"Heavens. I feel like the Belgians waiting for the invasion." Cora remarks.
"Or the monkeys in a zoo." Mary quips.
Bertie seems actually amused.
—
Emma and Mary come out of the Drawing room at the end of the evening. Cora had already gone to bed but Billy, Bertie, Edith and Tom had wanted to stay up longer with their card game.
"He knows a lot about everything." Emma comments.
"The trouble is, I think he does." Mary remarks.
Emma chuckles. "So, I heard from Billy that you've both, as well as Tom, have been invited to watch the races at Brooklands. Have you decided if you're going? I will if you will."
"Are you sure? You'll be very close to term." Mary asks concerned.
"I will be." Emma reassures. "Unlike what people used to think, excitement is nothing bad for the baby."
"If you're sure." Mary says before sighing. "I know I won't enjoy it one bit, but at the same time..."
Emma smiles softly. "You'd like to see him again."
"It's not that." Mary replies as they stop at the bottom of the stairs. "I could see him for a walk in the park. No, I suppose I want to get over it. To get over myself. He asked me if I'd give cars another chance. Perhaps I should."
"Who is this flexible and reasonable person?" Emma raises an amused eyebrow. "I don't recognise my own dear sister Mary. Could this be love?"
"Oh, shut up." Mary grumbles yet there's no heat to it. She precedes Emma up the stairs. Emma chuckles and follows.
—
Preparations for the open house on the day are in full swing. Shutters are open and cushions have been plumped with a rope cordoning off upstairs. A table has been placed outside with a box for a till to take in the money for the Hospital along with two chairs for the ticket sellers, the tickets, and another poster announcing the Open House event.
From her seat where she is selling the tickets, Emma watches on amusedly at everyone's shock at the growing queue that is building up. Despite expectations, Emma, along with Tom, is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people. Previous experience of jobs in the retail business, when she lived in the future, is helping marginally with coping mechanisms when dealing with frustrated customers. Bertie struggles to organise groups of ten, which, while initially met with frustration, eventually falls into a rhythm that works.
Emma however, due to being eight months pregnant, has to take frequent trips to the toilet, and leaves Tom and Bertie to fend for themselves. It's when she enters the Great Hall on her way back to the front of the house does she hears an angry voice.
"Cora! Excuse me!" Violet cries as she charges through Cora's group, scattering them to get to Cora. "Did you know, when I was last here?"
Ah, Emma knew that Violet would be angry about her loss of position at the Hospital but this is really the worst time for her to vent her anger.
"Mama, I think maybe we should..." Cora tries to placate in a quieter tone. Everyone in the Hall (including Emma) is now staring at the spectacle.
"Did you know when I was last here?" Cora answers this with guilty silence. "And you let me babble on about my victory? Have you told Robert?"
"Mama, you of all people don't want to bore our vis—"
"Just be quiet! Excuse me!" Violet snaps. She plunges back into the throng of visitors, heading for the stairs.
Emma gapes after her and then throws a sympathetic glance towards a stunned Cora.
—
The family are debriefing after the Open House day in Cora's bedroom. Robert is on the chaise lounge, Cora at his side. Mary, Edith, Billy, Emma, Tom and Bertie have pulled up chairs to form a circle with them. Tom is pouring after-dinner coffee.
"Golly, Moses. You astound me. And all from the sale of tickets?" Robert remarks.
"It's a great deal of money." Bertie says.
"I don't suppose we could open the house on a regular basis?" Tom questions. Emma perks up at that.
"For charity, you mean?" Cora questions.
Emma eagerly shakes her head. "No, no, maybe for the house though."
"It costs a ton of money to run, and at the moment, it doesn't raise a penny towards washing its own face." Tom adds.
"Tell me you're not being serious." Robert says indignantly. "To charge money so people can come and snoop around our home? What a revolting suggestion."
"It is rather a frightful idea." Edith agrees.
Emma scoffs. "Fine, but one day you won't be able to ignore such a large source of income at our fingertips."
"Hopefully when I am dust." Robert retorts.
"Still, Tom, Emma and Isobel were right." Cora argues. "People are curious about what it's like to live here."
"Which is sad in a way." Edith says.
"Why?"
"Because it means our way of life is something strange, something to queue up and buy a ticket to see, a museum exhibit, a fat lady in the circus."
Bertie smiles. He's clearly considering marrying into this family.
"Trust you to cast a pall of doom over our successful day." Mary retorts snidely.
Bertie instantly reconsiders marrying into this family.
"I had a visitor, a child who'd escaped his mother. He thought we were mad to live here when we could be so comfy in a normal house." Robert tells them.
"Oh, I refuse to listen." Mary huffs. "Downton Abbey is where the Crawleys belong."
"I hope we'll stay as long as we can. But I suppose we all realise it may not last forever." Cora says almost remorsefully.
"Oh, this is weakling talk." Mary scoffs. "George and I are made of sterner stuff than the lot of you."
"That, I'm sure, is quite true." Billy grins.
"And we are not going anywhere." Mary declares.
—
A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.
What's funny is that Cora says the open house happens on the 11th and that it's a Saturday despite all the signs saying the event happens on the 6th of June and the 6th of June 1925 historically being on a Saturday. I changed it so she said the correct date for everyone's sanity.
Also, information I didn't know was the painters Robert refers to (Reynolds, a couple of Romneys and a Winterhalter) were all famous portrait painters of the 18th and 19th centuries. Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723 – 1792) is considered one of the major European painters of the 18th century. George Romney (1734 -1802) was the most fashionable artist of his day. 'Winterhalter' is probably the German-born portrait painter Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805 - 1873), who was very popular among the royal families and aristocrats of European countries. He worked in Germany, France, Spain and Britain, earning the nickname ''painter of princes''. His brother Hermann Fidel Winterhalter (1808 - 1894) was also a painter, but with no ties to Britain that I could find, so let's stick with Franz Xaver here.