Family matters

A/N A oneshot, I hope you like it….

o-o-o-o

'Have you visited her often?' Mr Carson asked his wife.

It was a late evening early August, and they were enjoying a glass of wine in their garden. The stern an strict Downton Abbey butler had changed into an avid gardener, much to everyone's surprise, no less his own. In the small garden in front he grew flowers, there was a rosebush and honeysuckle adorned the gate. In the much larger back garden Mr Carson grew fruits, herbs and vegetables. There had been a half dead plum tree when they moved in and he had brought it to full bloom. He grew carrots, French beans and onions. Lettuce and spinach and cauliflower. Parsley, dill, celery and rosemary. Sage, thyme and chive, just everything thrived under his care.

Mrs Patmore had been the first one to buy his greens and herbs. The villagers followed, and they made a nice bit of money on the side.

Mrs Carson kept the house as well as the books.

Mr Carson had been busy building a greenhouse where he could grow tomatoes, and now he was happy to sit down next to his wife, who had been busying herself knitting a tiny sweater for the Bates baby that was on its way.

'Who do you mean, Anna?' Mrs Carson asked.

'No, I meant your sister. Becky,' he said.

She sighed and put her knitting down on her lap.

'I used to, in the earlier years. I used to save my half days and went over to Argyll, to visit her for a day or two. I was only able to visit her about once a year…and it wasn't a pleasant experience. She kept asking about something I have promised her, only I have no idea what she means. When I asked her, she said, she can't tell right now. She was always disappointed when I left and I don't know why. And because of the money…you know, the train tickets and everything and I had to stay in an inn, I decided I'd best use that money to just pay for her care. And when I became housekeeper I hardly had any time to myself, let alone the opportunity to go and see my sister. I haven't seen her in years…at least ten, or probably more.'

He leant back and took a sip of his wine.

So she had worked all her life to pay for the care of her sister, whom she could so seldom see due to her tight working schedule. And if he hadn't married her, she would still be working, because she couldn't afford to retire. Because of her sister He swallowed.

'Elsie?'

'Mmm?'

'I was thinking. You know, we have all the time in the world now, and money isn't an issue anymore. How about we make a trip to Argyll? Meet Becky, and I would love to see your home town.'

The knitting slid off her lap as she turned to him.

'Would you really?' she asked in surprise.

'Of course, my love.' His smile and his eyes were so full of love it brought tears to her eyes.

'But you don't know Becky.'

'She is your sister and therefore I'd love to meet her. And yes, I understand she doesn't quite understand what's going on. But even then. She must be very dear to you, because you sacrificed your life to her care,' Mr Carson said.

But Mrs Carson shook her head.

'No Charles, it's nothing like that, I'm sorry. It was just the only thing I could do.'

He took her hand and squeezed it.

'Oh no, you could have brought her to an orphanage or one of those ghastly institutions. But you didn't. You made sure she was well taken care of, and you worked every day of your life so you could pay for it. That's a deed of love, Elsie. Tell me, how old were you when you were separated?'

She smiled. 'I was sixteen and Becky was twelve. Our father died just after she was born, in a pub fight, and our mother ran the farm on her own. I was five and I had to help. I never went to school, you know. Becky was so cute. She had rosy cheeks and blue eyes and honey coloured curls. She looked like a china doll. She wasn't of much use, but we were able to teach her to fold the laundry and feed the animals. We had sheep and some hens… When our mother died, I had no choice. I just couldn't run the farm on my own. So I did what I did.'

Mr Carson brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on it.

She smiled at him.

'Thank you my love,' she whispered and then continued her story.

'I managed to find a position as a scullery maid and there was a small place run by nuns nearby, and the housekeeper of the estate I came to work helped me to place Becky in their care. The nuns were good and very sweet, but Becky couldn't stop crying and kept asking why I left her. I went there every other day, but she didn't understand, and in the end the nuns asked me to come only once a week, to help her getting settled, and so I did.'

'That must have been hard for you,' he said.

'God yes, it was. She was all I had and more important, I was all she had. I knew the nuns were right but I… I just felt miserable about it. Mrs Parker, the housekeeper, was a great support to me, she understood what happened to me, she had been in a similar situation. She was the one who taught me to read and write, and told me I was bright and could make more of myself.'

The sun had gone down and the only light in the garden now came from the kitchen and the full moon.

Mr and Mrs Carson remained seated in the moonlight for a long time, holding hands.

When the clock was about to strike eleven, Mr Carson got up, pulled his wife up in his arms and kissed her.

'Let's go to bed my dear,' he whispered, stroking her hair. 'And tomorrow you will tell me more about the past.'

She nodded.

o-o-o-o

It was almost ten when she came down for breakfast the next day.

'I'm sorry for last night, I don't know what came over me,' she said shyly.

He wrapped her in his arms and held her close.

'Don't be sorry, love. Have you ever said anything about this to anyone else?'

She shook her head.

'No. Only ever to Mrs Parker. I thought I shouldn't bother other people with my personal affairs.'

'Oh, Elsie,' he sighed.

So that had to be why she had been crying last night. They had been snug in bed, his arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest, when he had been thinking out loud.

'I suppose we could get up there next Monday. I'm sure Mrs Patmore will be happy to take care of the garden, and… Elsie? What's wrong love?'

She was crying and he grabbed his handkerchief from under his pillow.

'Now, now, love….'

'I'm so sorry,' she managed between sobs. 'She didn't understand, and I left her there!'

He knew better than to try to comfort her now. He just held her, and let her have a good cry.

'She had no one but me, Charles…'

He stroked her back and kissed her temple.

'I know, love.'

She buried her face in his shoulder. 'I am so sorry…'

He wrapped her in his arms. 'It's all right now, love.'

He held her close and kept rocking her gently in his arms for a long time, and finally she began to calm down.

'I know you are sorry my love. It can be very hard, being the sensible one.'

She heaved a deep trembling sigh and he felt her nod against his chest.

'Good girl. Now try to get some sleep.'

'Thank you,' she whispered before she fell asleep in his arms.

o-o-o-o

Now, at the breakfast table, he poured them both a cup of tea.

'Don't be sorry Elsie, about anything. You did what you thought was best at the time, and I suppose it was indeed the best thing to do.'

'I know that, we'd probably starved to death had we stayed living on the farm. But sometimes your mind can't put your feelings to rest, you know… I've said it before but I'll say it again; thank you for understanding.'

He took her hand and pressed a kiss on her fingers.

'Of course love, you don't have to thank…' but she jumped from her chair before he could finish his sentence. 'Elsie, what…'

'The toast Charles, it's almost burning!' She deftly picked up the slices just in time, and put them on a plate.

'Oh dear me…'

'It's all right,' she smiled. 'Here, have a slice before it turns cold.'

He chuckled. 'Do you remember your electric toaster?'

'I do, yes,' she smiled. 'But I believe they are much improved since then. Would you care to purchase one?'

'Well, some day maybe…who knows.'

They laughed and finished their breakfast.

When the dishes were washed, the kitchen cleaned up and they were enjoying a cup of coffee in their garden, Mr Carson cleared his throat.

'I meant what I said last night, Elsie. I would like to meet your sister and visit your childhood home. And I think we could go up there next Monday. For a couple of days, or even a week. We have all the time in the world now, love.'

He took her hand and squeezed it, and she smiled up at him.

'I'd love to, oh how I'd love to…' she whispered. 'But Charles, the garden.'

'Don't worry about that love. Mrs Patmore and Mr Mason will be happy to tend to it, and it will give them some extra time to spend together. I have a feeling they would like that.'

She chuckled.

'You've noticed that too, didn't you. Oh please Charles, let's go, I haven't been home in I don't know how many years…'

'Well, it's decided then,' he said. 'Monday it is. I'll go and purchase us tickets on the first train and inform Mrs Patmore, and you can start packing your suitcase.'

o-o-o-o

'Mmm, black pudding and haggis,' Mr Carson said. 'I could get used to that, you know. Why have you never prepared us a nice Scottish breakfast?'

His wife smiled at him. 'Because I can't cook,' she said.

He nodded. 'Of course, how could I forget that. I'll have to ask the chef for his recipes before we leave, then.'

They were having breakfast in the small inn near Elsie's home town. They had arrived there late Monday afternoon, and after spending a night at the inn they decided to book the room for a week. Nice and clean and a bathroom with a bathtub large enough for two. They would take a bath together in the evening, turn in early and get up early.

To Elsie's surprise, Charles behaved like he was visiting some foreign land. They had spent the first two days walking and enjoying the wild and deserted Scottish landscape.

'You enjoy being here, I can see it,' he had told her on the second day. 'You actually like hiking over these hills, don't you?'

Charles Carson thought he knew his wife, but spending time with her in her birthplace gave him a completely new view. Wearing a simple dress and very sensible shoes, hair in a loose knot, she had enjoyed the wild landscape, the wind and the roughness of it and it made her look even more beautiful.

He had spent his youth in a small flat in crowded and filthy Whitechapel, and he had never experienced the feeling of freedom this landscape gave him.

She had given him a radiant smile.

'I love it, it's my homeland Charles! All this fresh air, the moors, the hills, and look, down there is my home…let's go down there, I haven't been there in decades.'

They followed the neglected dirt road and stood before a deserted farmhouse.

'I'm surprised it's still here at all, after we left, no one took care of it,' she whispered. The door stood ajar and she carefully pushed it open and went inside. It was pitch dark and she went back outside to remove the shutters from the windows.

'Oh Charles…' she sighed when she came back in. 'My goodness, it's all still here…the stove and pans…and the table. I had no idea…' she walked around the place, a large kitchen it seemed, opening drawers and cupboards.

Charles opened a door opposite the stove and saw a dark, empty place, smelling vaguely of hay.

'What was here?' he asked her. 'Not your bedrooms I suppose?'

She laughed. 'No Charles, those were the stables, where we held the sheep. This room is not just the kitchen, it's the whole house. We slept in the attic…unless it was very cold en we would put up our beds down here, near the stove. Wait, I'll go find the ladder. I want to have a look up there.' She found the ladder behind the cupboard and placed it near the hatch.

'Elsie, don't do that. It's broken,' Charles said, pointing at the two missing rungs.

'Oh, don't worry, it's always been like that,' she said and began to climb up. It may have been decades since she climbed that ladder, but he could see her body had not forgotten the movement.

'Elsie, I'll stay here if you don't mind! I'm a lot heavier than you are and I don't trust that ladder with my weight!' he called after her.

'All right…' came her answer. But she couldn't help searching the attic for…for memories maybe, she didn't quite understand what she was expecting to find, she only knew she was mesmerised.

He was right not to come up she thought, she hardly trusted the floor with her own weight. There were some major holes in the roof and the attic had suffered from it. The door to her mother's bedroom stood ajar, she peered inside but saw nothing but a ruined mess. By the look of it, the room had been a home to the bird population for years. The floorboards creaked alarmingly and she tiptoed to the other side of the attic; hers and Becky's old bedroom. That door was closed. She pushed the door-handle…and it opened.

Inside it was very dusty, but the window and roof were still intact so no birds had set up home in this room. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at the two small beds, still having their covers although damaged by hungry moths. A small chest of drawers stood near the window; it had contained the few pieces of clothing they possessed and was now empty. Elsie just stood there and watched her childhood room. She felt uneasy, because she didn't know what she had expected. Certainly not to feel sorry and lonely, but that was how she felt right now. she took a deep breath and was ready to leave the room, when outside a cloud was wiped away by the wind and allowed the sun to shine through the dirty windows.

That was why she noticed the lump. A small lump under the covers, in the bed that had been hers. She had no idea what that could mean and lifted the covers, creating a big cloud of dust. But when she could see again, she almost broke down. There, safely tucked away in her bed, lay a doll. An old rag doll with one leg missing.

'Oh no,' she groaned, she hid her face in her hands and remembered a conversation that took place many years ago.

'They say I can't take anything with me, but I want Janie!'

'Of course you can take her with you.'

'But they say I can't!'

'You don't have to bring clothes but you may bring Janie, I'm sure, Becky.'

'No, Sister said I don't need anything from home, because it's all dirty. I'll have to hide Janie or they will throw her away. Will you take care of her Elsie?'

'Of course I will, darling.'

And so Becky hid Janie in her big sister's bed, trusting she'd take care of her. But Elsie had left the cottage on the very same day that Becky left, she had packed her few personal items and hadn't looked back. And she had never noticed Janie, and so she had never understood why her sister kept asking for the doll.

She sank down on the bed, folded Janie in her arms and hugged her, allowing a single tear to run down her cheek.

Oh Janie, and all these years I thought the sisters had thrown you away…

o-o-o-o

'Elsie, are you all right up there…Elsie?'

Her husband's voice brought her back to the present. She wiped her eyes and stood up.

'I'm fine, well I'm not quite fine but I'll explain it to you. I'll come down now.'

She descended the ladder and he caught her in his arms.

'What happened love, what has upset you so much?'

She warmed herself in his arms.

'I'll tell you but not here, please Charles…can we go back to the inn?'

'Of course.'

o-o-o-o

They returned at the inn at seven, and after Charles had a quick word with the innkeeper, they went to their room and had a bath together.

It was just what she needed; a long, relaxing soak in a warm bath that smelled of lavender, in her husband's arms, leaning comfortably against his chest. While she had undressed herself, Janie had appeared from her pocket.

'What is that?'

'It's Janie, and she needs a bath, she's a bit too dusty.' She submerged the doll a few times and carefully placed her on a towel to dry. And then she told her husband the story about Becky and Janie.

'I had no idea, Charles. I found her in my bed today.'

He pulled her a bit closer and kissed her neck.

'Please Elsie, don't worry. We'll visit Becky tomorrow and then we'll see. Now, we should get out of this tub before we melt.'

Elsie wrapped herself in her bathrobe and sighed.

'I wish we didn't have to dress again to have dinner.'

'But we don't have to,' Charles smiled while slipping into his bathrobe. 'I have asked the manager to bring us...' a knock on the door interrupted him, ' ah, there it is I suppose. Enter!'

'Room service Mr Carson,' the boy announced as he pushed a small trolley into the room.

'Thank you very much,' Charles gave the lad a tip and he bowed and left.

'Nothing extraordinary dear. Bread and cheese, some fruit, chicken and a bottle of Merlot.'

'It's absolutely lovely! Oh Charles, I love you so much, you are the best husband anyone could wish for!'

'Just so you know,' he chuckled.

o-o-o-o

The next day they got up early to catch the first of the three trains that were going to bring them from their lodges to the town where Becky lived.

Charles had bought tickets in advance and was glad he did so. Elsie was nervous, he could see that although she smiled and said everything was fine when he asked her.

Janie was clean and dry and wrapped in one of Elsie's scarves.

They were alone in the train coupe and she cuddled up against him.

'I am nervous, Charles. Isn't that silly? I am visiting my sister, my own baby sister Becky and I am nervous.'

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so he could drop a kiss on her forehead.

'We'll be fine, my dearest,' he whispered in her ear.

'I am so happy you're with me,' she sighed.

'Of course I am.'

o-o-o-o

The institution in which Becky lived wasn't far from the train station, just a five minute walk.

He held out his am to her and she took it gladly. He pulled her a bit closer and patted her hand, but said nothing. She already knew.

The receptionist smiled at them.

'You're here to see miss Hughes and you are Mr and Mrs Carson,' she noted. 'I will call a nurse to take you to her, just a minute.'

It really took just a minute and a nurse appeared, an elderly woman with a kind face. 'you come to visit our Becky? She rarely has visitors the last five years or so, I'm a bit surprised. She has a sister who pays for her stay here but she has to work hard to do so, bless her, this place is not cheap. Are you family?'

'In a way,' Elsie answered and Charles looked at her in surprise. Seeing her white, tensed features he didn't comment, just squeezed her hand. They followed the nurse through corridors and wide halls, which looked light and sunny.

'Well, here we are!' the nurse announced and knocked on a door.

'Yes?' came a voice from inside.

The nurse opened the door. 'Becky dear, you've got visitors, Mr and Mrs Carson are here to see you. I will have a lunch for three brought up. Should anything be wrong, just call me dear!' she said.

But she didn't leave yet.

Charles and Elsie stood in the doorway, riveted to the spot. It was a nice, spacey room, light and sunny. In a chair near the window sat Becky, busy with a pile of socks and rolling them into pairs.

Charles was fascinated. There was his Elsie, a younger version but with much more grey in her auburn hair. Elsie just stood there, watching her sister.

'Hello Becky,' she whispered finally.

The women looked up from her work and watched them.

She put the socks aside, stood up and walked towards them.

Charles felt how Elsie tensed up and held her breath.

Becky looked at him and narrowed her eyes.

'I don't know you,' she said after a while.

Elsie closed her eyes shut and so she didn't notice how Becky's eyes were scanning Charles' large frame.

'No, I don't know you,' she told him again. Then she turned her gaze to Elsie.

Again she studied the person before her very closely, with narrowed eyes and then she said: 'You are not Mrs Carson. You are Elsie.'

'What..' she whispered, not quite believing her ears.

'You are not Mrs Carson, you are Elsie. My sister,' Becky repeated. She took Elsie's hand and pulled her into the room.

'You are my sister,' she repeated and a warm smile formed on her face.

Elsie couldn't help it, she felt tears run down her cheeks.

'I thought you didn't remember me,' she managed.

Becky smiled and kissed her on the cheek. 'Of course I remember you, Elsie. You're my sister and you promised to take care of Janie,' she said. 'Nurse Smith says you work very hard to earn money so I can't see you often. I can help with the laundry and in the kitchen. I don't know that man that came with you. Is he your friend?'

Elsie wiped away her tears and wrapped her sister in her arms.

'He is my husband Becky. I love him very much and he is the reason I can finally visit you today.'

'Is he nice?'

She smiled. 'Yes, he is.'

'That's good.'

When they let go of each other, Elsie took the small package from her purse.

'I've got something for you, Becky.'

'For me?'

'Yes dearest, for you. It's yours.'

Slowly the scarf was unwound and Janie appeared.

Becky stared at the rag doll in her lap.

'It's Janie.'

'Yes love, it is.'

'I haven't seen her in a long time.'

'I know darling and I'm so sorry.'

Becky smiled and stroked Janie's face. 'Hello Janie, I've missed you… but Elsie took care of you, I knew that because she promised me. And now you're back.'

She looked up at her sister with a happy, radiant smile on her face and wrapped her arms around her neck. 'Thank you Elsie, thank you, thank you…!'

o-o-o-o

The train neared their destination and Mr Carson gently nudged his wife, who had fallen asleep against his chest. There were no other travellers in their compartment so he had felt free to wrap his arm around her shoulders and had dropped a kiss in her hair as he pulled her close to him.

She had been exhausted when they left Becky. The lunch of bread, cheese, fruit and coffee had been welcome, because Elsie had not been able to eat anything for breakfast.

The emotional reunion of the two sisters and Janie had taken its toll on her.

'Elsie, time to wake up love,' he whispered.

'Mmm, are we home?'

'No, we're back at the inn, it's past eight and you need a hot bath and something to eat and an early night. As do I, actually.'

She yawned and he held out his hand to help her out of the train.

'Come on, Elsie. A bowl of soup would be nice I think before bath and bed,' he said, taking her hand and leading them to the inn.

oOo

In the tub, she almost fell asleep again, leaning back against his chest. He gently massaged her shoulders.

'I spoke to the nurse when you were in the gardens with Becky,' he told her. 'She said your sister is happy there, and I had that impression, too.'

He pushed her upright and climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around his waist and held another one up for her.

'So did I, and she told me so herself when we're in the gardens. They have her tend to the chickens, one of the things she could help with at the farm. And she's got Janie back. She is convinced I have kept her all those years, until it was safe to return her. I didn't have the courage to tell her the truth.'

She took the pins from her hair and brushed it before braiding it for the night.

Charles arranged the pillows on the bed and held the blankets up while she put on her nightgown.

'I'm so glad we came here,' she said while cuddling up against him. 'I thought I'd never find out what was bothering her al these years.'

'We can go visit her more often now.'

'Yes, she would like that I think. She told me she thought you were a nice man.'

'Did she?'

'She did, and I agree. You are the nicest and sweetest man in the world.'

'And you are the nicest and sweetest woman in the world,' he smiled and kissed her forehead. 'Goodnight Mrs Carson.'

'Goodnight Mr Carson.'

THE END

Please tell me what you think! x george