"We cannot postpone the deadline again. You need to produce something, or we cannot work together anymore." Cora's publisher sounded harsh, but she did understand where he was coming from. He needed her book to sell, and she was not producing anything. It had now been weeks since she last heard that piano player and her brain did not want to produce any words. She tried but failed miserably. What if the person had moved? How would she ever find her muse again. It did also not help that she had not seen Robert, for the same amount of time.

"I will make sure to have it ready next month. I promise." Cora heard herself say those words, but she knew they were empty promises. How was she going to produce those last chapters? She needed to find a solution, really quick.

"Do not let us down." The dial tone sounded before Cora could answer. She sighed and sat down on the sofa. As it did for the entire last week, her notebook was smirking at her. Maybe she should start by digitalising what she already wrote. It could help, get back into the writing process. She opened her laptop and started typing.

She was thankful her mother had told her to take typing lessons, now she was able to use the keyboard with ten fingers and without looking at it. It saved her a lot of time. There was not much her mother had told her to do, but this was one of those rare ones. She loved her mother, but the relationship had always been strange. She was much closer to her father. Or at least she had been closer to him. She still felt the pain in her heart thinking of that day.

He had been out golfing with some of his friends. They normally took a golf buggy to go around the course. But one of his friends had said that the weather was nice enough to walk that day. So, they all went on foot. Cora wished her father had been lazy that day and had taken the cart. But he did not, true to his nature he was the first one to be enthusiastic. They had walked several holes, and when they decided that it was time for a beer, it had gone terribly wrong.

Another player that was out on the course, was new to the game. He was good at smashing the little ball far, but aiming was not his strong suit yet. Isidor had been at the wrong time at the wrong place.

The ball was hit hard and flew over the course. But instead of going in the direction of the hole. It flew directly at their group. He was hit on his head. According to his friends, he had dropped to the floor immediately and there was nothing they could do.

Later with his autopsy, they found that the artery that lay directly under his temple had burst. It meant an instant death or at least one from which he did not suffer. That was the only consolation she had; he had not suffered.

She shook her head and looked at her screen again. She had still a lot of work to do, she loved writing in the old-fashioned way. With pen and paper, but it did give her extra work. That extra work was a good distraction, otherwise she would start panicking. She needed to find another way to get inspiration.

Robert pushed his father inside. He had been in the hospital for a long time, but finally he was allowed to go home. They hired a private nurse, and with that condition, they finally agreed to let him go. Patrick could still not use his left arm or leg and his speech was still slurred. But as Robert had expected, he was working hard and very determent to get as much function back as was possible. "Welcome home, Papa."

"This is not my home son, and you know that." said Patrick gruffly.

Robert knew that he only saw Downton as his home. "Your home away from home." He tried.

Patrick shrugged his shoulder. It was a weird sight, seeing one shoulder moving and the other one staying motionless.

"Can you bring your father to the living room please. We do not have to stand in the hallway, do we?" Violet's voice snarled in his ear.

Robert walked further on; his parents were staying in their London home for the time being. In the end it was best that they had opened their London home and were not staying in Robert's apartment. He would not like living with his parents again. Especially not with his father being this depending on them. Violet would probably get very cranky, and he could only imagine the frustration his father felt.

"You will be alright then?" Robert looked at his father, he had wheeled him close to the fireplace. Since his stroke he was constantly cold.

"What do you mean?" Violet sat down on the sofa. "Are you leaving?"

"Well, yes. What can I do here?"

"Your father needs to explain you everything about the business. You need to step up now, the time of being lazy is behind you."

"Dear, we cannot state that Robert is lazy. He never has been."

Robert gave his father a thankful look. It was indeed not something they could say, he had never slacked off at work. "Mama, I know I have to take over fully from now on."

"For the time being." Patrick added.

"For the time being, sorry Papa. But Papa is not even home for one hour, I want him to take it slow these days. I will do whatever I can without his information already. And then in a couple of day, Papa and I will sit down to see what I can do."

"Dear, you know Robert is right. I am, to be honest, too exhausted to think about work. I would love to go to the bedroom and sleep."

"I will ask the maid to prepare your bedroom right away."

"The bedroom is already ready, Milady." Maud's voice sounded from the door.

"Good." Violet looked at Robert. "Are you going to help your father to the bedroom, or is that also too much to ask?"

Robert ignored her words and pushed his father into his bedroom. He could not understand how they could be married, but never slept in the same room. How did Rosamund and he came along. Deep down, he knew exactly how it worked. His mother was old fashioned, and she did not allow his father to sleep in her bedroom. From time to time, he was allowed to have fun with her, but that was it. He could not imagine that those things were still happening in these modern times. He shivered; he did not want to think about his parents doing those things.

"Papa, I will be back in two days. Please take the rest you need. I am taking care of the business for now and we will not make any major decisions."

"That is alright son. Thank you."

Annoyed Robert stepped inside his apartment in Westminster. He wished he could go back to Richmond; he missed his small house there. The garden, his piano but most of all he missed bumping into Cora. It had been weeks and he felt foolish for asking her number. He was intrigued by her and just wanted to know more. But with his father's situation, it all got complicated.

He walked to his kitchen to get some water when he made a decision. He was going to Richmond tonight; he would just stay the night and go back tomorrow morning.

He called for a cab and took only a small bag with him. He had clean clothes left at his house, so he did not need much.

Relieved he opened the door to his house and walked straight over to his piano. He caressed the instrument before sitting down. He tossed his bag into a corner and his fingers went to the black and white keys.

Cora popped up in his mind and he started playing. His music turned into a melodramatic song, which brought tears to his own eyes.

He did not stop for several hours, and when he finally looked up and noticed that it was three in the morning, he realised that he had not closed his window. Slightly ashamed he walked over and closed the window. Murmuring an apology to his neighbours.

Once more he stroked with his fingers over de piano, one day I will tell Mama about this. One day. He said to himself, before walking into his bedroom.

With a deep sigh, he lay down and stared at the ceiling. He promised himself that he would bury his personal life. But how could he? It was part of him, a big part. He did not feel complete without his piano. And it seemed that he also could not be genuinely happy without seeing Cora. That last part still shocked him. He had seen her twice; how could she have this effect on him? But more importantly, was she feeling the same thing for him? What if he was dreaming of meeting her again, but she was not? He needed to find out what she felt for him, but he was not sure how he was going to do that.