1.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

Anna rolled her eyes, though she did so with a smile. Deep down she knew he was right to be cautious considering what they were doing.

"I told you," she affirmed, "It was Mrs Hughes' idea, I heard her suggest it. She would have probably done it herself if she could have got Mr Carson to agree to it."

Mr Bates grinned a little at this, probably pleased- as Anna had been- by the feisty side of her personality that the housekeeper had briefly displayed.

"I wouldn't have told her what was going on if I'd known she would react like this," he announced in feigned irritation.

"Yes you would," she informed him, with little doubt in her voice, "She would have talked it out of you, she has a way to make people."

He could obviously imagine that this was true as he said nothing in response, leaning against the wall for a moment. Glancing to ensure that no one was coming, Anna checked her pocket for the glass jar and, most importantly, that it was still inhabited. She had insisted upon large air-holes- it wouldn't be much good if their prime specimen died on them before they even reached the servants' corridor- but had now come to regret it: the mini-heart attack she experienced thinking it had escaped and waiting to feel the crawling sensation somewhere on her body was not one that she relished. Thankfully, the spider still sat in the jam jar, probably profoundly confused by its circumstances. She fleetingly hoped that Miss O'Brien wouldn't kill it in a fit of panic.

"Are we going to get on with it?" he asked, "Or would you like a little longer to form an acquaintance with the spider?"

She scowled at him.

"I'm just working up my nerve," she told him.

"And you're sure she won't know it's you who's done it?"

"Not unless she's psychic."

Which, knowing Miss O'Brien, would be absolutely bloody typical. The smirk on his lips showed that he was thinking the same.

"Try not to get caught," he told her, "Though," he added as an afterthought, "It's only her you really need to watch out for: I imagine anyone else on the staff would give you a medal for it."

She smiled, one hand on the door to the required corridor, the other grasping the jam jar. He saw she was ready for the off- as Mrs Patmore would call it.

"Off you go, then."

2.

The piercing shriek could surely be heard by the whole length of the corridor, Elsie thought. Whoever was carrying on at this time?- she wondered, it was well nigh bedtime. Throwing down the nightdress she had been about to change into with a sigh, she hurried into the corridor, looking for any indication of who could have made the sound. It didn't take long, the only door that wasn't open was Miss O'Brien's. Mrs Patmore, standing at her open door in a heavy dressing gown and a hairnet looked at her enquiringly, evidently waiting for some kind of decisive action. She sighed again.

Crossing the corridor not without trepidation, she wrapped on the door. Though she received no reply- she hadn't really expected to- she opened the door anyway and peered round it. She was met by the sight of Miss O'Brien sitting on top of her high chest of drawers, staring frantically down at the floor as if she expected a fire-breathing dragon to spring from there. Given the frankly disturbing noise she had just made, along with her particularly unorthodox use of furniture, Elsie thought that she merited the right to adopt an imperious manner.

"Really, Miss O'Brien," she asked, "What on earth is all of this uproar?"

The expression on the lady's maid's face as she looked up to behold the housekeeper was almost comical.

"Spider," she managed eventually to choke out, "Over there."

She indicated to the bedside table. Sure enough, there sat a jam jar- with rather extravagant holes in its lid- containing a solitary spider. Elsie was more than confused: she could have sworn blind that Charles had talked her out of her plan. But here sat evidence to suggest that she had gone along with it anyway, yet she couldn't for the life of her remember looking for a spider in the first place.

"I will remove it," she told Miss O'Brien, moving to the bedside table and scooping up the jar, "Now for heaven's sakes, come down from that chest of drawers before you send it through the floor."

It took her a further five minutes to coax the lady's maid back to the floor, all the while her head doing loop-the-loops: there was something quite seriously wrong with her if she could go to the trouble of planting a spider in someone's room and not be able to remember doing so afterwards. Assuring Miss O'Brien that no further creepy-crawlies were lurking she returned to the corridor.

Charles was standing there, though mercifully he hadn't not changed yet either or else she thought she might have had a heart attack. Having been talking in a low voice to Anna, he looked around to see her approach.

"Anna let me in," he informed her, apologising for his unusual presence on this side of the door, "Is everyone all right? I wondered what the screaming was about."

Walking to the other side of him so that the maid wouldn't hear her, she spoke in a quiet voice that felt far too high-pitched.

"I think I'm going crazy!"

He frowned at her, waiting for an explanation. Not trusting herself to give one verbally, she simply held up the jam jar. His eyes widened once he realised what she was implying.

"Oh Elsie," his voice was low and for the most part serious, but she could have sworn she detected a hint of a chuckle, "You didn't, did you?"

"No!" she protested in a squeak, "Of course not! But then I don't see how it could have got there at all."

Charles reached and took the jam jar out of her hand, inspecting it and its contents. She thought he looked at it rather fondly.

"I recognise this covering," he said at last, indicating to the checked cloth with several holes in it which was serving as a lid.

"Where from?" she asked.

"Anna!"

The maid, who had been just about to slip back into her room, froze. Then, after a long moment, she peered her head back around the door frame, biting the inside of her lip.

"Yes, Mr Carson?" she asked tentatively.

He sighed deeply.

"I believe you have some explaining to do."

3.

"We were lucky to get out of that one alive," she sighed sitting down next to him at breakfast the next day.

They were the only two there and so took the opportunity to discuss their exploits.

"I don't know," he replied with a smile, "Mrs Hughes didn't look as displeased as she should have done when she told me about it. I think she was secretly quite proud of you."

She laughed out loud a little at that. It was true, once she had explained to Mrs Hughes that she had done it because of what Miss O'Brien had said about Mr Carson- although, of course, omitting that she had overheard the conversation in his parlour- Mrs Hughes had certainly ceased to be as foreboding. She grinned at the slightly absurd memory of the slightly absurd experience: someone trying to congratulate her while also trying to pretend to tell her off.

"How is Miss O'Brien?" he asked, looking as if he only narrowly avoided giving quite a wicked grin.

"A bundle of nerves this morning!" Mrs Patmore bustled in from the kitchen, arms laden with plates, "I can't imagine what's got into her!"

Apparently, the butler and housekeeper had remained good to their word and had not informed Miss O'Brien who had been responsible for the incident, provided that it never happened again.

"I think it was something to do with a spider," Mr Bates informed her.

Anna gulped at her tea, trying not to laugh to conspicuously.

"Makes sense," remarked the cook, bustling back out again.

They only just managed to hold their laughter in until she was out of earshot.

"We're acting like children," Anna remarked between hoots.

"I know," he replied, "But it's fun."

That was true. She found she quite liked being silly with Mr Bates, though she would swear otherwise if Mrs Hughes ever asked her.

"What's all of this silly giggling?"

As if on cue, the housekeeper entered the room. Anna immediately arranged her facial features more seriously. She needn't have, however. Although she never thought she'd see the day; Mrs Hughes had only been teasing and she was shortly followed by the butler; her mood was light. They took up their usual seats a short distance away from Anna and Mr Bates. There was a kind of mutual respect in the room- between the four of them- now, Anna thought: she and Mr Bates had seen a decidedly more human side to the heads of staff and had earned the respect of their superiors themselves by doing their bidding without being asked. Mrs Hughes looked happier than Anna had seen her in days and Mr Carson did even more so. Both sat quietly, lazily tapping the fingers of one hand on the surface of the table. Lowering her gaze, she saw that they seemed to be holding hands behind the table leg. And in spite of herself, for a moment she thanked the Lord for Miss O'Brien's meddling.

End. (This time, unless anyone has more ideas)

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