Sybbie of the Abbey: a fan fiction of Downton Abbey

The Journey

"Well, I'm glad yer drivin', it'll safe me the trouble o' gasoline."

Tom's jaw clenched at the sound of his brother's careless prattle.

He was not in the mood for Kieran's flippancy. It had been a long morning, filled with worry for his mother, grief at his parting from his family, and uneasyness at what might happen when he was back in Ireland.

He had been persuaded, or rather forced, by his family, to use Henry's name whilst travelling. This was in order to divert suspicion. He had fought against it, fearing that Henry would be implicated if anything happened. Eventually, however, he was brought to the reluctant conclusion, that he must use someone else's name and it was best if that person actually existed. He had agreed, therefore, but secretly resolved to swear that he had taken the identification without his brother-in-law's consent.

Now, his eyes prickled at the thought that, if he was arrested and tried, they would not give him any leniency. He might be imprisoned for years in Ireland; away from his home and family.

He had been younger and more head-strong when he had attended those meetings against the English Aristocracy, and his views had changed considerably since the fateful night when they had burned down that estate. He had not wanted to hurt anyone, but that was not the way it had ended. He had assured himself that none of that family would be harmed; but when he had seen the children crying, watching their home burn...

He shook off the recollection, tuning back into the world, and blinking hard to clear his vision. He focused on the road and listened with a resigned air to Kieran. The latter rattled on in a self-centred way, with ne'er a thought of his heartsick brother.

When they got to Thirsk, however, and boarded the train, Kieran was more subdued. He talked half heartedly about a worker at his car repair shop, who had been giving him trouble. He stoped after a minute and looked at his brother. He was staring out the window.

Tom was able to give his thoughts full reign now that he didn't need to drive. He was daydreaming of the Abbey. Kieran snapped him out of it.

"Tommy?" He said, leaning towards him with something like compassion in his muddy eyes. "Are y' alright?"

Tom started and glanced up.

"What?"

"Y' seem distracted." His voice softened. "Are y' worried about Mam?"

"Yes," he responded, "and..." he broke off, dropping his eyes.

"And those people back in that place?"

Kieran scoffed.

"Frankly, I don't see how y' can live with 'em. How can y' stand ther grand airs?"

Tom stared seriously at his brother.

"Because they're my family... and I loove them."

"More than y' loove our family? More than Mam?"

Kieran was trying to goad his brother to make the situation less awkward for himself. Tom's expression did not alter.

"You know that's not true. I loove Mam, and you. But they are closer to me now, and since Mam refused t' leave Ireland... we... well, we drifted apart."

"Did you write?"

"Yes... I used to write more often, but somehow... somehow we slowed our correspondence." He sighed. "Now I wish I'd sent her more letters... she always hated t' be the first t' write; she said it was imposing." He paused. "Do you? Write, I mean?"

Kieran nodded rather self-consciously.

"Yes... but not often enough. Do y' still send her money?"