𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗦, downton abbey + peaky blinders

04 | a house divided

"Good morning, Marcie!" If there was ever a time to question Daisy, it was now. The girl, usually a "tame mess" as she described it, had attempted to balance a bicycle against a wall in the courtyard. Based on the loud crash and ring left in her wake, it hadn't worked for long.

In her defence, she was late and Mrs Patmore is not a woman you want to leave waiting.

Marcella made her way back to the servants' hall, where the servants were eating breakfast, and sat next to Jeanie, stiff as a board; the two were still to make up. Marcie firmly believed she would never forgive her horrible words. They were towards the end of the table, meaning it was hard to hear any important discussions.

But then again, she didn't need to.

Something to note is that Marcella Sullivan has a tendency to space out. It caused more trouble than she was willing to admit, but she hated it for the opposite reason. She missed all the drama.

"May I remind you Mr Barrow that Mr Bates is a wronged man seeking justice. If you have any problems with that definition, I suggest you eat in the yard."

She had never heard Mr Carson speak in such a way. She had never heard anyone speak in such a way to Thomas.

But it happened.

The situation of Mr Bates was one of misfortune and despair, and Thomas Barrow's lack of sympathy was more unwelcome than usual.

Marcie found herself, at that moment, resenting being so friendly to the man. She caught his eye as he raised his spoon and watched what little regret he had sink in. There wasn't much.

Thomas Barrow and John Bates never got along. From what Marcie knew, Thomas was jealous of Mr Bates in every sense, and was rude to disguise that fact. But it was a fact all the same.

With that, everyone began their day. Jeanie was to spend most of the day upstairs helping with wedding preparations where possible. Marcie, however, lent a hand to whoever needed it downstairs. It continued like this throughout the day until the evening when it was time to leave.

Grabbing her coat, she made to open the door, only for it to swing towards her on its own. Mrs Hughes and Anna stood in the doorway, saying their quick goodbyes as Marcie rushed home.

Dinner was cold, but the food was hot. Angela attempted conversation, to which her only replies were blank stares. In truth, Marcie couldn't bring herself to answer. That would mean giving up, and she couldn't give up. Eventually the woman heaved a sigh, placed her plate and fork into the sink and trekked to bed. Marcie stayed for a few moments, and glanced at the sideboard.

There lay the two letters from Christmas, still unopened. She stepped towards them. And again. With each step, it became more and more daunting. It had been a year since anything had been said between her old family. They used to laugh at the idea of losing touch, and yet here they were.

Before she could second guess herself, Marcella had grabbed the envelope inscribed to her and ripped it open.

A Christmas card.

Inside, a messy scribble read "mery cristmas!", obviously missing a few letters here and there. It may have been a year, but Marcie could recognise Finn's ugly scrawl any day. She would never tell the boy that, for he couldn't read it. She had promised to teach him days before she left.

And that's when the idea struck.

She was still on her defiant high as she grabbed the paper and pen from the cupboard and began to write.

Dear

Marcie stopped. How do you write to a boy who can't read? Of course, write to Polly! Tommy would analyse each word, John and Arthur would poke fun, and Ada could be doing who-knows-what with Freddie Thorne.
Polly wouldn't overthink it, and would keep her opinions to herself. Sure, she would mention it to Tommy, but only because he'd want to know if they were okay.

With Polly and the Shelbys in mind, she knew exactly what to say and for the first time in a year Marcie's mind had a break from Downton and Small Heath.

The next morning, Marcie ran to the post office before her mother could wake and set off for Downton Abbey. As usual, the house was already at work, even the new addition.

The girl would usually enter what she now considered her area with a wave and sit until she was needed, but apparently not today. A giant, ginger boy stood at the end of the table in a brown suit with his eyes forward. Marcie almost giggled as Carson stood next to him, like a sergeant ogling a new recruit.

It seemed like an interview for a minute before, "What have you done?" had been asked and not even a dam could hold back her laughter.

To anyone, it would sound as if he had done something wrong. But they all knew better. It took a moment to catch her breath and apologised, not missing Thomas suppressing a smile and Mrs Hughes letting hers curve upwards for a moment.

The new footman, Alfred, stated his past jobs in the army and as a waiter. If Mr Carson could have looked more unimpressed, he did now. Hughes and O'brien exchanged words, and Alfred was sent to the attic with Miss O'brien to find a livery that would fit.

Marcie spent most of that day helping in the kitchen with a spring in her step that even Daisy's strop couldn't flatten. She refused to explain herself, knowing they would tell Jeanie and she'd be marched down to the post office to retrieve her letter.

No, I won't tell anyone. She liked that idea.

Alfred's first dinner went as expected - he was, after all, trained as a waiter not a footman - and before anyone knew it, Lady Sybil and Mr Branson arrived for Lady Mary and Mr Crawley's wedding.

Dinner downstairs was alive with gossip that night. Arguments of whether Mr Branson or the family were harder on the other were almost skipping through the room. Until he appeared at the door.

"And you are?"

"Oh, I'm Jean and that's my sister Marcella. I got a job here right when you left and she may as well have one too."

"Well, it's nice to meet you both. I won't keep you from your dinner." He made his way to the stairs. Marcie almost felt bad for him. An outsider upstairs and a superior downstairs, he didn't fit in with either group at that moment.

"Thank you for coming down." Thank the heavens for Mrs Hughes. As he left and the chat broke out again, Marcie caught Jean's eye for the first time in weeks and made a face. No reaction. At least she tried.

As each day passed, things seemed to get more and more disastrous. Lady Grantham found out about an investment accident involving her fortune, Mr Branson's drink was spiked at a party as a cruel joke, and Lady Levinson arrived with her own list of dietary demands that Marcie was surprised Mrs Patmore didn't already know.

The night before the wedding, Marcie was supposed to help out in the kitchen because Daisy went on strike (something about being promised a promotion) but decided she better stay well away from it. She stuck to her usual fetching and carrying until she passed the kitchen as Daisy dried some dishes. "You gave in then?"

"Oh, shut it, Marcie!"

------ charlie says --
oo 2 updates in a week, who knew? not me
ily guys take care of yourselves