Thursday afternoon

"What do you think?" Beryl asks and picks up her cup. Her trembling fingers are in stark contrast with her steady voice. Elsie pours herself another cup before answering and holds it in both hands - most unladylike, but it chases away the chill that had fallen over her when Beryl told her the news.

At first Elsie had thought her good friend was visiting to spend the time of day, or perhaps to have a little gossip. Maybe to talk about Mr Mason and his slow, gentle courting or about the rumours of the Abbey being sold to the National Trust with the family not actually making much money at all. She wondered if it might have to do with the bed and breakfast and if Lucy was perhaps leaving.

But it had been something quite different.

"Maybe it's something in the water," Elsie says and she watches Beryl snort a laugh in spite of herself. She doesn't stifle the chuckle that escapes her and the friends share a giggle.

"We oughtn't laugh," Elsie says, still hiccuping.

"We really shouldn't," Beryl agrees and retrieves her handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe away the tears that are streaming down her face.

"It's actually very serious," Elsie manages to say, her eyes crinkled shut.

Beryl nods, averting her eyes.

"No, really. They should have been more responsible." Elsie frowns and sighs. After all, it is easy to say people have to be responsible when you're safely married and of a certain age.

"No use saying that now. I'm afraid it's a quick trip to the Registry Office."

"Have they told Mr Mason?" Elsie asks and reaches for her cup; only when she lifts it does she remember it's empty.

"I shouldn't think so. I had Daisy in with me only this morning as she was getting fairly green about the gills when I told her to scramble the eggs for the dining room breakfast." Mrs Patmore is stacking the saucers and cups, so they are ready to take to the sink to be washed.

"Has she told Andrew?"

"Your guess is as good as mine! I was rather shaken, I can tell you."

Elsie sighs again and just as she wants to start making plans, she hears the front door being unlocked and opened and the humming of a very contented man is drifting through the hall towards the kitchen.

"Best not discuss any of this with Mr Carson, yet," Elsie whispers to her friend and they both rise to take care of the cups and biscuit tin.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you with this on your day off," Beryl says, and Elsie shrugs.

"I suppose you can take the house out of the housekeeper, but the housekeeper will always have some secret to keep."

"What's all this about secrets?" Charles obviously heard the last of Elsie's words and she turns to him, smiling, speaking quickly to distract him.

"Why, a secret is no longer a secret when it's told, you know that. Did you have a nice walk?"

From the corner of her eye she sees Beryl biting down on her lip so she won't burst out laughing again.

"Hmm. Nice day. Built up a bit of an appetite. Is there more tea in that pot?" He leans over the table and lifts the lid and shakes his head.

"I'll make you a fresh one as soon as I've seen Beryl to the door."

Quickly Elsie ushers Beryl to the hall and helps her with her coat. As Beryl checks the glass to see if her hat is straight, she quietly says they'll have more to discuss in the morning.

"In the sanctity of the Housekeeper's Parlour," Beryl agrees and opens the door and turns around.

"Things will be alright, won't they?" she asks and Elsie shrugs.

"We'll have to wait and see."

Elsie watches her friend walk down the path and down the road that leads to the house that still dictates so many aspects of her life. When Beryl is out of sight, she closes the door and leans against it, the wood hard against her head, the pins pricking into her skull.

"Are you alright?"

It's Charles, standing in the doorway, a cheese sandwich in his hand, looking handsome in his tweeds and shirtsleeves rolled up to halfway his elbow.

"A Housekeeper's work is never done," she says and she sees a frown flit over Charles's face.

"Isn't it your birthday soon?" he asks then and she thinks the question a little quaint at least.

"It is. Are you planning a lovely surprise for me?" she teases him.

He smiles. "Perhaps."

"Come on. Let's go in and I'll fix you that cuppa."

Together they go back into the kitchen where it's warm and where they are just Charles and Elsie. Where they can leave what they do - or used to do - behind. Where all they are, is an elderly married couple. Happy to see each other. Drinking tea and eating cheese sarnies.

But in the back of Elsie's mind is Daisy's predicament and she is already preparing for the moment she is going to have to tell all of it to Charles. Secrets left too long become burdens too heavy to carry, she knows that from experience. But it's not the time for it yet. She really hopes it will be sooner rather than later.

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possibly to be continued