Sybbie of the Abbey: a fan fiction of Downton Abbey

News From Ireland

(Narrative)

It was the night of December fifteenth, when the news came.

I was with George and Marigold in the evening after dinner; lying on the floor of our room finishing a board game we had started in the afternoon. We lounged about; talking and listening to Fred Murray on the gramophone, which had been a present for George on his birthday and had belonged to his father before he died.

We finished the game, and it was still an hour before bedtime.

Marigold yawned and began to play with her doll, as George rolled over onto his back, groaning up at the ceiling.

"I'm bored!" He grumbled, "and we don't have anything to do!"

He thought for a moment, then seemed to have a good idea. He jumped up.

"The servants should be done with their meal by this time; why don't we go down to the kitchens and surprise them?"

Marigold brightened instantly, but I sighed, shaking my head in disappointment.

"I don't know if I can get downstairs."

"Don't worry!" Marigold said, leaping to her feet, "we'll help you! C'mon!"

I allowed them to pull me up and help me down the passageway to the main staircase. We went down it with difficulty, and I had to rest my ankle halfway down, but we made it eventually. We got to the servant's door without anyone catching us. When we opened it, however, we heard footsteps heading for the entrance hall.

We hid behind the door just in time to see Mummy walk hurriedly across our line of vision. Her brow was furrowed and she looked worried. She broke into a jog as she got nearer to the telephone in the hall.

"That was close," George whispered as she moved out of sight, "let's go down!"

I hesitated, wondering why my stepmother looked so intense.

"You go, I'll follow in a moment. I want to see what Mummy's doing."

My cousin shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Come on Marigold."

They ran off down the stairs and I slipped out into the hall. Limping painfully, I made my way to the entrance hall, where Mummy was talking to someone over the phone.

I hid behind the wall and watched as she spoke through the phone, which I was never allowed to touch.

"What is it? Why are you calling me?"

She attended to what the other person was saying for a moment. Then, suddenly, she put her hand to her mouth and looked as if she had received a blow to the stomach.

"You can't be serious! A day before he was to leave!" She listened some more, then exclaimed, "a Doctor! He wasn't ill was he?"

My blood ran cold as I heard that remark. I knew she had to be talking about Daddy. What had happened to him?

There was a pause, and Mummy's face turned ashen.

"Hit with a club!" She cried in horror, and my heart skipped a beat, "is he alright?" A short break. "Well then, why can't I talk to him?" Another break and she seemed to be about to blow up. "I don't care about regulations! I want to talk to my husband!"

She listened for a long while, seeming to become calmer, but more disparaged.

"Alright... that's fine... I know, I'm sorry; I'm just worried."

When she finally thanked the person at the other end and hung up, tears were filling her eyes.

Aunt Mary came into the hall from the library and I ducked out of sight as she went to her sister-in-law.