TURN-UP FOR THE BOOKS

The next day, Mrs Hughes had another rather lonely day at work. The fact that they weren't too busy, didn't help. She wished she could occupy herself with a pile of urgent tasks, but because Lord and Lady Grantham have gone to London, all she could do was to look for the odd often forgotten jobs that simply didn't give her the satisfaction she needed. She was counting minutes before she could head over to the cottage. In the end, she was so frustrated, she decided to sneak out a little earlier, hoping nobody would notice.

When she arrived home she found her husband in the living room with a fair amount of crumbled pieces of paper around him on the table. He wasn't expecting her.

"What's that you're doing, Charlie?" She asked him when she was hanging up her hat and coat. He was trying to frantically hide the mess but soon gathered it was perhaps too late since she already saw him…

"I err…" He was staring at the papers in front of him. "…was writing a letter to Mr Pattinson."

She looked away so he wouldn't see the satisfaction in her broad smile. He got there in the end. As always…

"And how is it going?" She came closer to him.

"I'm getting there." He assured her. "Slowly but surely…" It was difficult to control the tremble in his hand, and also to not let the anger and disappointment take over his choice of words.

"Good," She stated bluntly as if she was commending a child. "Mr and Mrs Mason sent us a postcard from Leeds." She sat down opposite him.

"That's nice of them," He looked up from his unfinished letter. "What does it say?"

She narrowed her eyes and lifted the postcard in front of her nose so she could read it out to him. "The first day was good, the second was better, the third will be the best, three days is not enough, we will soon want to go again." He didn't find it as funny as she did but still chuckled a little. "They also say they hope we're also having a great time… anyway, see for yourself," She didn't read the rest, she handed him the postcard instead.

She was watching as he was reading their message when suddenly, they were both startled by a loud knock.

Mr Carson hurried to open the door and was thrilled to see Lady Mary behind it.

"Carson, I hope I'm not interrupting." It wasn't just a polite phrase — after what she'd heard in the barn the other day, she was genuinely worried she might interrupt and witness something even more disturbing upon her arrival.

"Not at all, milady, come in." He walked her to their living room.

"I've got some news for you…" She announced proudly. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down."

After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, he sat down — very reluctantly nonetheless. His wife sat down next to him.

"I had a very interesting day in Sheffield today." She paused, she enjoyed stringing out the moment. "I found you a publisher. He was more than impressed with your work!"

Mr Carson was a little confused "How-"

"Mrs Hughes kindly provided me with some samples of the memoirs." The young lady gratefully nodded towards the housekeeper.

Mr Carson wasn't as appreciative. He glanced at his wife in disbelief, his mouth slightly open. How can she keep a secret from him so easily when he can't?

Lady Mary understood that he might need some time to take it all in, therefore, she didn't wait for his belated (hopefully excited) reaction but carried on. "Moreover, I bought a typewriter and hired Mrs Kent who will be your typist. She will be coming over from the village to help you out. She used to be a receptionist and is extremely efficient with typewriters. I saw her in action, she types faster than Mr Talbot drives."

Now, this information brought a half bewildered half elated expression not only on Mr Carson's but also on Mrs Hughes' face.

"I don't know what to say, milady." Again, this wasn't just a polite phrase, he honestly didn't know.

"It is very kind of you, milady, to go to all that trouble for us." Mrs Hughes spoke up.

"Nonsense, the memoirs are very important for the Crawleys and I have to admit I am rather ashamed none of us have stepped up until now."

"I'm very grateful." Mr Carson finally managed to find the right words.

Lady Mary got up from her seat and was ready to leave. "That's settled then, you can start whenever you like, Carson, just let me know and I'll arrange everything."

"I will, thank you, milady." He walked her to the door and bid his goodbye.

"Well, that's a turn-up for the books." He beamed when he came back to the living room. He looked very pleased with himself.

"It is, indeed," She agreed.

…

"Have you managed to finish the letter?" Mrs Hughes asked her husband as she was getting into bed next to him.

"I have," He was looking at her very lovingly. He was glad she decided to wear the special nightgown every day and not just on special occasions. Because every day they spent together was special.

"What did you say to him then?" She tried hard to not sound too nosy but didn't succeed.

He rolled over on his side so he could see her better, his left hand supporting his head. "Do you always need to know everything?" He was teasing her.

"No," she stated firmly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to…" She sounded a little bit hurt and offended.

"Hmm…" He cleared his throat. "I told him that I am not the man he thinks I am." She looked up at him in surprise, she was beginning to lose faith. "I said I can't be any more averse to his outlook on women. I find his outlook regrettable and I pity him." His voice was low and soothing. "Because loving a woman, especially a woman who loves you back is the most amazing thing that can happen to a man. I encouraged him to give it another chance and I asked him to be happy for me."

"Oh, Charlie," Her eyes were glistening.

"Yes, Elsie?" His voice turned a little hoarse.

"I do love you so."

He quickly rolled on top of her and kissed her deeply so she wouldn't see the tears of love and sentiment forming in his eyes.

THE END