Unlikely situation alert. About a month after war is declared.

1.

The smell, she couldn't deny it, was absolutely pungent despite the fact that some chemical had been used in an attempt to cover it up. She momentarily indulged in wrinkling her nose at it. Well, as it smelt like that chemical was the fluid that Mr Carson used to clean the silver, it wasn't altogether surprising that the attempted disguise had been unsuccessful and she experienced a brief shock of incredulity that someone in service would attempt to cover the smell of vomit with silver polish, but then reminded herself that that was the very last thing she should be worrying about.

This was the third time this week- to her knowledge anyway- that this had occurred. The first had been on Monday morning when she had returned to the servants' quarters after breakfast for some reason or other; upon visiting the bathroom the most foul stench had reached her nose. After that she had made a note to check the offending room whenever she could without drawing undue attention to herself. Each time the miscreant- for she was sure that there was something subversive about this- had attempted to cover up the evidence, in each instance with a different but equally absurd chemical. In her experience, vomit in the mornings in a women's bathroom was never ever a good thing: housekeeper's prerequisite matronly instincts on full alert.

It had not escaped her imagination that someone could be ill- she was not given to reaching melodramatic conclusions too immediately- but then why had no one come forward and asked for time to recover? That no one was willing to admit to any ailment made her highly suspicious of the whole affair and their attempts to cover their tracks increased her conviction. Then it occurred to her- out of a wish to make a bad situation not as bad as it could be- that one of the girls had been drinking. It would certainly account for the furtive air of the whole thing but then, she thought with an inward roll of her eyes, was it likely that she would have missed someone who clearly couldn't hold their drink drinking three times within the space of a week? No, it wasn't, she forced herself to admit. There was only one explanation left, the one that had been her gut instinct; and exactly the explanation that she had hoped against hope wouldn't turn out to be true.

2.

"Are you quite all right, Mrs Hughes? You look rather pale, if you don't mind me saying."

She nodded briskly and took that as an invitation to sit down, wondering as she did so how it would be best to convey her assessment of the situation accurately without giving the butler a stroke.

"There is something rather serious that I need to talk to you about," she began, "I know I can rely on you discretion and this matter, well... it's rather a delicate one."

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again, his concern apparent.

"I'm fine," she told him grimly, "But I'm pretty sure someone else in the house isn't."

It did not take her long to inform him of the goings-on of the past week and the conclusions that she had regrettably drawn from them. He listened patiently although she was sure that inside he was panicking almost as much as she inwardly was. Once she had stopped talking he was quiet for a moment longer, seeming to contemplate everything that she had said. Then;

"And that is your hypothesis?" he asked, seeking confirmation, "That one of the female staff is... with child?"

"You don't think I'm jumping to conclusions, do you?" she wondered.

"I pray to God that you are," he replied, not attempting to disguise the bleakness in his voice, "The talk doesn't bear thinking about. Goodness only knows what I'm going to say to his Lordship! And you say you've no idea who it could be?"

She shook her head.

"No one's particularly been themselves these last few weeks, so there's no use trying to base it on that. And I would ask you not to mention anything to any of the family until we're sure that I'm not barking up entirely the wrong tree."

His huff of discontent was audible.

"And you've not noticed any changes in anyone's... physical appearance?"

"I tend to neglect to measure the girls' waists with a tape measure every week," she replied sarcastically, then added, "Though the way we are at the moment, it might not be such a bad idea."

He half-snorted at that.

"We shouldn't really be laughing about this," she reprimanded gently.

"No, you're right."

His voice was deadly serious.

3.

"Has Mrs Hughes been asking you any funny questions?"

Anna finally caught up with Gwen that evening. In response to the question, Gwen seemed to rack her brains for a moment.

"Not really," she replied, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Only she seemed quite inquisitive earlier on."

"How'd y' mean?"

Briefly, Anna recounted the conversation that had occurred between herself and the housekeeper than morning. Gwen listened, the look of puzzled surprise growing as the tale went on.

"So she asked you if you'd been ill?" she asked for confirmation.

"Yes."

"And have you?"

"No."

"Then she asked if there was anything you'd like to tell her?"

"Yes."

"And did you?"

"No!"

Gwen thought on the matter for a moment. It was apparent that the housekeeper who, while usually not completely averse to confidences didn't normally actively seek them out, had her own agenda. This wasn't altogether unusual except that it involved the housemaids: generally hidden agendas were reserved to deal with those who weren't under Mrs Hughes' jurisdiction; she could afford to simply order the housemaids around. Gwen saw Anna watching her expression.

"Odd isn't it?"

Anna nodded.

"Yes."

4.

"So she's been asking you as well?"

It came as a great relief to Anna and Gwen, who had later been questioned herself, that they were not the only ones with whom Mrs Hughes seemed to have been taking an extremely understanding- for want of better word- tone with.

Gwen nodded.

"Yes, though I can't think why," she added with a laugh, "I'll have gone before the week's out!"

Daisy looked relieved by the former but, like Anna, seemed to feel a pang at the latter.

"Odd in't it?" she remarked.

Anna nodded.

"She had us wondering what we'd done wrong."

"And what 'ave you done?"

The interjection into their conversation was unwelcome- the voice being unmistakable- and it fleetingly crossed Anna's mind to ask Thomas when he would be gone too. But she turned quite calmly and replied that none of them had done anything for which they could be blamed.

"What's all the fuss about then?"

Knowing that he could really give two hoots and was just being his usual intrusive self, Anna was quite prepared to ignore him but Gwen answered in her place.

"Mrs Hughes has been asking us some funny questions is all."

"What kinds o' questions?"

Did he have to know everything that went on? Gwen too, it seemed, had decided against holding a serious conversation with him and offered a very vague response. He wasn't, however, content with it: insufferable man.

"What about you, Miss O'Brien?" he called across the servants' hall.

It took Anna by surprise; she had hardly noticed that the lady's maid was present until it was pointed out to her. Miss O'Brien looked up with something of a start, evidently surprised herself.

"What about me?" she asked.

"Has Mrs Hughes been poking her nose into your business recently?"

"No more than usual,"she remarked dryly.

"No but she's about to."

At the sound of the housekeeper's voice the inhabitants of the table jumped out of their skins and tried to leap to their feet at the same time. Turning around, it appeared that both Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson had arrived almost unnoticed.

"Thomas, I'll thank you not to use such an unflattering verb again," she instructed.

Anna tried not to smile at the withering element in her voice.

"Miss O'Brien, I'd like to ask you something."

Her tone was balanced. She seemed to be waiting for Miss O'Brien to accompany her out of the room but she remained in her seat. Anna couldn't help but think that she looked almost as if she were paralysed in her seat. The housekeeper cleared her throat a little before continuing.

"Do you know anything about the vomit in the upstairs bathroom?"

Anna's mind went into overdrive as she tried to recall her interview with Mrs Hughes and the significance of all of these questions. The servants' hall was suddenly a deathly silent.

"What about it?"

The tone of it was sharp and guarded: far, far, far too guarded. Mrs Hughes blinked hard. So did Miss O'Brien, who seemed to have realised what she had just admitted to.

"It is you then?" Mrs Hughes asked cautiously.

There was very little point in lying with virtually the whole household now present and Miss O'Brien's silence indicated that she realised as much. Her cheeks glowed scarlet and Anna, momentarily forgetting exactly who this was, felt her heart go out for her.

"Miss O'Brien," it was Mr Carson who eventually broke the silence- Mrs Hughes was looking dumbstruck- "I think you had best come with us."

Anna got the feeling that there was a great deal of explaining to be done. Mrs Patmore's eyebrows raised alarmingly at the three retreating backs.

I am back in business with the melodramatic plots. Please review if you have the time!