"The After-Show Party."/ "Going Wild."

It certainly wasn't usual behaviour for members of the ruling classes to really make friends with their servants; not properly anyway. On the surface it might seem as if they did, but in actual fact it was very rare indeed. But then, Charles reflected, Downton seemed to be making a point of displaying unconventional behaviour at the minute. He guessed that such an occurrence as the one he witnessed then, in the corridor behind the backstage area, had never been seen in any of England's major houses. Hearing the door leading onto the corridor open he was quick to withdraw his arm from around Elsie's shoulder, yet still only did so in time to avoid having it wrenched out of the socket by Mrs Crawley, who had come bounding towards them and hugged Elsie with all her might- evidently still over-excited from coming off the from the curtain call. Elsie for her part reacted rather calmly to being pounced upon, he thought. Whereas one time Charles would have found Isobel Crawley's behaviour unrefined and vulgar, he found himself smiling in spite of himself; she and Elsie he knew had grown fond of each other throughout the rehearsal period.

"Oh, Mrs Hughes," Mrs Crawley finally got round to explaining herself, "You were marvellous! Absolutely wonderful!"

Elsie, looking a little as if she'd been hit over the head with something solid, patted Mrs Crawley on the back, throwing rather a bewildered glance at Charles.

"She's right." As Isobel let go of Elsie, she was able to see Lady Sybil and Mr Branson hovering in the corridor doorway, "Well done, Mrs Hughes, you were wonderful, simply enchanting, I-..."

"Don't think that's going to get you any where with me," she warned the girl, snapping into housekeeper mode. Elsie fixed her with a shrewd stare. She had not quite forgotten what she'd overheard- their plotting- during the interval.

"Oh please, Mrs Hughes, let us," Sybil implored, "Mr Johnson said we could have the run of the place. I think you rather impressed him."

"I don't dispute that he might consent to it," Elsie conceded- noticing that Lady Sybil had not quite given up on flattering her-, "It's what everyone in the village will think- not to mention your parents- if Mr Carson and I let you all go running wild!"

"Come with us," Lady Sybil offered, then added rather daringly, "Go wild yourselves."

Elsie opened her mouth, staring in disbelief at Mrs Crawley. However, her own incredulity was not returned.

"It couldn't do much harm, Elsie," Mrs Crawley supplied, using the housekeeper's Christian name, attempting to soften her, "I think we could all do with letting our hair down a bit."

Good heavens, you'd have thought the fact that she was still dressed as Lady Macbeth might make this lot just a little bit frightened of her; but no! She turned to Charles, hoping that at least he might give her some support.

"I don't suppose... I mean, if we were there to supervise, Elsie..."

She looked at him, exasperated. She had a feeling that he wanted the chance to go mad just as much as the rest of them did, though he would never dream of admitting it!

"But what will her Ladyship...-"

"Oh you can stay with my mother, Mrs Hughes. In fact she's holding a small celebration for friends of the family who are here today. I'm sure they'd all be thrilled to meet you, and congratulate you themselves."

Lady Sybil wore a fiendish smile, and not without a good reason. She knew the housekeeper would loathe earnest flattery being flung at her from all directions: she simply wouldn't know how to take it. A muscle was clenched in her jaw.

"Oh, go on then."

…...

Lady Sybil had assembled rather a pleasant little group, Elsie had to admit that. Anna, Gwen, Mr Bates, William, Daisy, Lady Edith and all three of Mr Crawley's friends- whose names she got mixed up- met them at the back door and followed as Mr Branson and Lady Sybil lead the way. They took the short cut, the pond was at the edge of the village and this way they wouldn't need to go any where near the centre. Under the pretence of helping her over the uneven ground, Charles reached out and took her hand as they walked. Aside from Mrs Crawley- with whom Elsie exchanged an understanding smile- no one seemed to notice; so high were spirits all round. With much whooping and oddly well executed chants of "Double, double, toil and trouble" the merry rabble proceed through the long grasses and unkempt hedgerows until they reached the pond. The excitement was rather infectious, and Elsie began to understand how it was that she had been drawn into this madness.

There was some commotion as the menfolk- attempting chivalry- set about preparing the boats. The unintended effect of this was that one particular vessel was let go too soon and scooted away from the rest of the fleet. Charles was appalled; Mr Johnson had only allowed them this excursion in the good faith that all of his boats would be properly treated. Fortunately- Elsie supposed- taking a great running leap, Mr Branson managed to find himself in that particular boat before it drifted too far. Assembled on dry land the rest of them with laughter, Lady Sybil in particular.

"Tom!" she called merrily, "Tom! Come back and get me!"

The poor lad did genuinely seem to try to do as he was bidden, but by the time he had gained control of the oars, he was well into the middle of the pond. Lady Sybil didn't seem to mind too much, and got into a boat with Daisy and William cheerfully enough.

"I think I'll stay at the side and watch," Elsie heard Mr Bates tell Anna, as she herself was tugged into a boat by Mrs Crawley, "Go on with Gwen and Mr Carson."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes." Elsie clearly heard a note of amusement in the valet's voice; at the other side of the pond Mr Branson appeared to be rowing around in circles.

All in all, Elsie thought, she and Isobel- as she insisted she was to call her from now on- didn't do too badly, having never found themselves in such a boat before. They didn't capsize or crash at any rate, and it was in good spirits that they crashed into the side of the boat where Anna and Gwen had insisted upon rowing, while Charles entreated them to be careful.

"Edith!" she heard Lady Sybil call to her older sister, "You're only supposed to have three in each boat!"

Lady Edith had somehow managed to negotiate her way into a boat with all three of the young men. She now realised that Mr Branson had been rowing in circles for a reason; Mr Crawley's friends had been chasing him in their boat and he trying to get away from them. Beside her Isobel roared with laughter.

"I wish Matthew was here to see this," she remarked.

"Didn't he want to come down with us?" Elsie asked.

"No," Isobel gave her a knowing smile, "Mary invited him to accompany her to Cora's party."

"Oh."

"Edith!" Sybil was still calling- apparently letting none of this rule breaking pass, most unusually-, "Get into Tom's boat. Go on, or you'll all sink!"

In between side splitting heaves of laughter it occurred to Elsie that she was still dressed as Lady Macbeth. A little distance from them, Mr Branson had lined his boat up alongside Edith's so she could step across. Completely forgetting that she too was in a precariously balanced rowing boat, she stood up to get a better look.

"Careful!" Isobel exclaimed, grabbing the oars and almost knocking her back down to steady them.

And by the time she looked up again, everyone else's mirth had apparently tripled. Wondering what on earth she had missed she looked around frantically, just in time to hear a tremendous splash. The boat steered by the young men was drifting gracefully away amid torrents of laughter. Lady Edith was sitting, looking mortified, alone in Mr Branson's boat, apparently soaking. As for Mr Branson, he was in the pond. Having attempted to assist a very jumpy Lady Edith between the two boats, she had panicked and- thinking she would fall- pushed against him, causing him to lose his balance and go flying into the pond. Across the water from them Elsie saw Lady Sybil, grabbing onto Daisy's arm for support; laughing herself daft.

…...

"So you all had a good time this afternoon?" her Ladyship asked Elsie that evening, "Sybil tells me you all went down to the village pond."

Elsie considered her response carefully. In fact, she needn't even need to lie to avoid telling her Ladyship what had really happened.

"Yes, my Lady, we had a marvellous time," she informed her.

Lady Grantham smiled, picking up her drink and moving off to where Mrs Patmore was giving a detailed account of how she had murdered Thomas during Act 3. She could not help but breathe a sigh of relief, picking up her own glass and taking a hearty drink. As the bachelors' corridor had yet to be turned back to its proper state, the family had decided to hold a party for the cast there- family and staff. The cubicle curtains had been taken down and copious supplies of food and drink had been prepared beforehand so everyone was helping themselves. She perched herself on the edge of the table that had been in her dressing room, looking around the room, absolutely exhausted but very pleased all the same.

"Mrs Hughes?" she turned her head to see Lady Sybil standing beside her, "How alike do you think Gwen and Christopher look?"

What a question, she thought; but looked anyway. At the other side of the room Gwen was talking to one of Mr Crawley's friends. Though she would normally have stormed across and given the girl an errand to do- keep her out of trouble- she thought she could make an exception this once. Now that she thought about it, there was rather a resemblance between the two of them; both with rather fiery hair, and their faces a similar shape. She eyed Lady Sybil suspiciously.

"Why?"

"I'm looking for some twins," she was informed, "I'm thinking of Twelfth Night in time for Twelfth Night. What do you think?"

"You want all of this chaos again?" Elsie asked incredulously, "It'll take me another twenty years to recover from this lot!"

"Oh don't worry," Lady Sybil informed her casually, "There aren't any Scottish people in this one, you're quite safe."

Elsie was about to retort that she might not be limited to playing only Scottish roles- Lady Sybil shouldn't underestimate her- when Charles and Isobel approached them, apparently sharing a joke amongst themselves.

"What are you two up to?" Isobel called, helping herself to a piece of cake, "You have that look. Plotting."

Elsie snorted.

"That's her," she indicated to Sybil, "I wash my hands of it. She's planning all of this madness again come December time!"

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Isobel wanted to know, "I for one have had a splendid time. Oh for heaven's sakes man!" much to Elsie's surprise she rounded on Charles who was perched beside her- a measured distance apart, as they were used to-, "You may as well put your arm around her! We both know."

Elsie sat there a little stunned, not least because Isobel had worked up the nerve to say that to them. There was a moments pause and then she felt Charles' arm drape gently around her shoulder. They sat there, the four of them- two servants, an aristocrat and an upper-middle class mother- for a little while watching their friends, employers, colleagues, family mixing cheerfully in the room before them.

"You know what this is?" Sybil reflected after a while, "This is what Tom calls democracy."

The End.

That's not all there is, though. If you'd like, I'm more than willing to write a sequel and have them put on Twelfth Night like Sybil suggested; I have cast it and have a few plans ready. I hope you've all enjoyed this, it's been terrifically fun to write. Please review if you have the time.