AN: Attention please! Spoiler Warning! We've reached the finale of the third season of Downton Abbey. I don't want to spoil or trigger any of you, so here's an explicit warning! Get your tissues ready. The next two chapters will be emotional.
"Shall I take you to Downton Abbey?" Matthew asked, gesturing towards his car.
"I would love to" replied Emma, "But I still have to buy cigarettes for Dad," she added with a roll of her eyes. Since Thomas could hardly leave the bed at the moment, he tasked his daughter with buying a new pack of cigarettes. Emma didn't like it, but her Dad might nag at her if she returned empty-handed.
"I understand," said Matthew, "How is your father? I heard what happened."
"Better, but he's still in pain."
"Please give him my regards," said Matthew as he got into his car, "When George comes home in a few days, I'll personally introduce him to you, I promised," he winked.
"That would be great!"
Emma kicked a stone ahead with her foot. It wasn't far to the Abbey, but on some days, the path surely felt infinitely long. Why did her Dad have to insist on those stupid cigarettes? She could have easily caught a ride with Mr. Matthew... the only consolation was that she saw Ruby again in the village.
"Do you know how it works? Maths?" Ruby asked.
Emma shook her head, "Not really," she admitted.
Ruby looked at Emma with a resigned sigh, "Me neither," and quickly changed the subject to something joyful, "The circus is coming to Ripon!" she exclaimed.
"Really?" Emma inquired eagerly, her face lit up with excitement.
"Oh yes, and it's bringing lots of animals! Maybe we can go there this weekend," explained Ruby.
"Animals?" Emma's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Like lions and elephants?"
"Yeah, and maybe even acrobats and clowns!" Ruby added, her enthusiasm matching Emma's.
Emma's heart raced with excitement at the thought of seeing such spectacles. "I've never been to a circus before. Have you?"
Ruby nodded, her grin widening. "Yeah, once when I was little. It was amazing! You'll love it... Oh, I have to go this way. See you at school tomorrow. Bye!" and with that, the girls parted ways.
The circus. Emma had never been to the circus. Surely she could convince her Dad to visit the circus on the weekend. The thought brought a wide smile to her face until she suddenly stopped in her tracks. At the junction, a pick-up truck was parked across the road. Other tracks led from the road down the small slope, revealing another car lying on its side.
"Keep walking, there's nothing to see here," one of the two men explained, but Emma stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the crashed car. She felt a strange tingling in her stomach as her heart pounded wildly against her chest.
"Don't you live at the Abbey?" one of the men asked.
Emma nodded, seemingly in a daze, her eyes still fixed on the accident scene.
"Please inform His Lordship that Mister Crawley has had an accident."
"Come on, run!"
As if on autopilot, Emma started moving. Instead of rushing through the back door as usual, she briskly knocked on the grand entrance of the estate.
"Emma," Alfred hissed anxiously as he saw her. "You can't come in here," he whispered hastily, but the girl had already darted past him, driven by an urgent need to speak to Lord Grantham.
"Lord Grantham!" she exclaimed excitedly as she saw the man disappear into his library. Carson, who opened the door of the library, shook his head vigorously. "Lord Grantham!" Emma called out again, "Lord Grantham!" as she finally caught sight of the Lord.
"Now, Emma, what is so urgent that you wish to share with me?" Lord Grantham asked with an annoyed look at the agitated girl. "As you surely know, dinner is about to be served, and I still have business to attend to and still need to change."
Emma tried to catch her breath, her heart pounding wildly as she struggled to form her words. "Mister Matthew..." she began, when suddenly the words of the man at the accident scene echoed in her head. Tears welled up in her eyes as she delivered the terrible news, "Car accident."
Lord Grantham froze, his eyes widening in horror. "What are you saying?" he asked, shaken.
"They say he's had an accident," Emma sobbed, her voice breaking with grief, "Mister Matthew's car veered off the road because of the transporter."
A heavy shock descended upon the estate as the words sank in. Lord Grantham turned to Carson with a decisive gesture. "Carson, please send one of the staff to check on the situation. And please take care of the child."
Carson nodded solemnly and turned to Alfred, "You heard. Go to the main road, Alfred," and gently placed his hand on Emma's shoulder, "I'll take you down to Mrs. Hughes."
Emma lingered in the comforting arms of Mrs. Hughes as the sad news was officially confirmed by the police. Mister Matthew had died in the accident. The words echoed in Emma's mind, and a sense of emptiness and despair engulfed her. She felt infinitely cold, though it was actually a warm late summer afternoon.
No one spoke. Not even Mrs. O'Brien uttered a word. Emma was the only person allowing her tears to flow freely, while the adults looked on in shock. Only Mrs. Hughes held Emma a little tighter as tears rolled down the child's cheeks.
Mister Matthew, who had always been so kind and helpful, was gone. She would never see his smile again or hear his encouraging words. Time seemed to stand still as Emma remained in Mrs. Hughes's embrace. But even the gentle touch couldn't ease the pain raging in her heart.
Trembling, the girl stood up and continued her way upstairs, as if in a trance. The bedroom door was open. Jimmy's voice was clearly audible. The blond-haired man sat on a chair near her father's bed, reading from the Yorkshire newspaper. He stopped when he noticed the distressed girl in the corner of his eye.
"Are you alright?" Jimmy asked hesitantly.
Thomas kept his breath close at the sight of his weeping daughter. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned, patting the bed next to him. "Come here, my little dwarf."
At nine years old, Emma understood what it meant to be 'dead'. Her Mama was dead. Edward was dead. William was dead. Lavinia Swire was dead. Lady Sybil was dead. Mister Matthew was dead. They would never come back. She would never see them again. Never laugh, play, or talk with them again.
"Emma?" Thomas asked again, but it was as if his daughter neither saw nor heard him.
"You look quite pale," Jimmy remarked, "And you're trembling."
Why was the world so unfair? Why were all these people torn from her life? Why did it hurt so unbelievably when someone was dead? Why those particular people whom Emma loved so much? Mama. William. Lady Sybil. And Mister Matthew.
Emma was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice Jimmy getting up.
"Is this normal?" he wondered aloud. Thomas shook his head in denial as he sat up straighter, emitting a slight groan of pain. "Jimmy, could you bring her to me?" Thomas asked.
Only when he gently touched her shoulder did the girl startle and stare wide-eyed into the face of the young man before her. "Are you alright?" Jimmy repeated his question, but Emma broke free from his grasp.
"Emma!" Thomas called out worriedly, but the child ran out. One more time, Thomas called after his daughter, "Emma, what happened?" and shortly after, Carson's voice rang out, "Emma Grace!", closely followed by the housekeeper, "Stay here!"
The two men didn't have to wait long. Soon after, Anna came by to bring Barrow's dinner tray early.
"What happened?" Thomas asked, concerned. Anna hadn't even properly entered the room when she was bombarded with questions from the two men. Thomas would have liked to go after his daughter, but in his condition, it was hardly possible. He was glad when he was sitting or lying down in a relatively comfortable and pain-free position.
Anna swallowed hard, searching for the right words, but there were none. She placed the tray on Thomas's bedside table before uttering the unimaginable words, "Mister Matthew is dead."
"What?" Both men stared at her speechlessly, their eyes wide open. Jimmy was the first to regain his composure. "But that doesn't explain why Emma was acting so strangely and ran off," the servant remarked.
"It was Emma," it burst out of her.
"What?" Thomas asked with a very uneasy feeling in his stomach.
Anna fought back tears. "She found him," she explained. "Emma found him on her way home from school. It was a car accident."
Thomas sat up, trying to stand despite all the pain. "Mister Barrow," Jimmy said, puzzled, "You should rest. You're under strict bed rest, remember?"
"I need to get to my child."
"You're injured," Jimmy said, while Anna sadly shook her head. "We don't know where she is right now," she explained hesitantly.
"We have to find her," Thomas insisted. "She needs me!"
"No, Thomas," Anna said. "She needs time alone. Mister Carson will leave the back door open tonight so she can come in."
"Anna, she was completely distraught!" Thomas explained, worriedly.
"I know."
Time alone. That's exactly what she needed. Emma ran through the fields and meadows. She needed time to be alone, to understand, to mourn. Hours passed as Emma wandered through nature, without a watch and without a destination. She ran against the wind, feeling its freshness on her skin. Her thoughts whirled wildly in her head as she tried to process the pain and sorrow.
Emma settled on the small hill. The sun, about to set, warmed her face, and the wind gently played with her hair. Yet despite the outer calm, a storm raged within her. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"Why?" she whispered softly into the wind, but no answer came. Life seemed so unfair to her. Mama - although Emma never got to know her - Edward and William, Miss Lavinia Swire, Lady Sybil, and now Mister Matthew. How many more had to be torn from her life in such a painful way? Emma closed her eyes for a brief moment...
A Summer day in 1916. Lady Sybil stood somewhat awkwardly in front of a simple kettle, while the kitchen maids could hardly contain their giggles. Water splashed around, but not into the kettle. An amusing spectacle that even made Mrs. Patmore laugh. "Clearly, not everyone can do this," she remarked with a mischievous grin.
Determined to help Lady Sybil, the cook turned to the young girl. "Come here, Emma," she called out, lifting the little girl up to sit beside the kettle on the kitchen counter. "We'll show Lady Sybil how to properly fill the kettle."
With a serious expression, Emma held the kettle firmly with both hands while Mrs. Patmore carefully poured the water. It was almost delightful to watch the little girl rise to the task.
"Now, place it on the stove," the cook instructed Emma. Emma nodded eagerly and slid down from the counter. With small, purposeful steps, she hurried to the stove, tiptoed, and gently placed the kettle on the burner.
Lady Sybil observed the scene with astonished eyes. She never thought that a four-year-old child would have more knowledge in the kitchen than herself. "I would surely be better at it if I had learned it from a young age," she murmured self-critically.
Mrs. Patmore tried to comfort Lady Sybil. "You can speak French, after all," she joked. "Emma will never learn that."
"When I grow up, I'll be a cook," Emma revealed with a grin. "Then we'll have chocolate biscuits and pancakes every day!"
"Every day?" Lady Sybil inquired, and Emma nodded eagerly. "Every day," she confirmed once more.
The day was filled with joy. Lady Sybil attempted to bake a cake, and Emma was allowed to help her.
Late in the evening, Emma learned through the gossip of the staff that Mister Matthew had come to visit and was staying upstairs. The four-year-old girl hurriedly ran up the stairs and slipped unnoticed through the large green door. She didn't have to search for him for long. She quickly recognized him.
"Mister Matt-you," the 4-year-old Emma spoke with a cheeky grin on her face as she caught the man's attention.
"Who are you?" Matthew winked amusedly.
"It's me, Emma," she giggled.
"Emma?" Matthew marveled, "You've grown so much! I can hardly recognize you!"
"Yes, because I'm almost a big girl. I'm already four years old!" Emma proudly announced.
Matthew laughed heartily and leaned forward slightly to be at eye level with the little girl. "Time flies here, doesn't it?" he remarked. "You know, at the front, time often seems to stand still, but you are proof that life goes on here."
"Uh-huh?" Emma nodded, confused. She had no idea what Mister Matthew was talking about. Before the girl knew it, Matthew pulled her into a hug. "You have no idea how much I missed this. The innocence in your eyes. You're just a little child, without worries or responsibilities," he explained wistfully.
Meanwhile, Lavinia Swire watched the scene with a smile. It touched her how lovingly he interacted with her.
"Matthew, who is this enchanting little lady?" Lavinia asked with a warm smile as Emma released herself from the hug and shyly leaned against Matthew.
"Who is that?" she whispered the question to Matthew.
"Why don't you ask her?" he chuckled, encouraging the 4-year-old girl with a smile to ask Lavinia the question.
"Who are you?" and she scrutinized the young woman skeptically. She wore beautiful hair accessories and a long, elegant light green dress.
"I'm Lavinia," she introduced herself kindly. "Lavinia Swire."
"Are you a princess?"
A soft laugh escaped Lavinia, and she shook her head. "No, I'm not a princess."
"Emma's father, Thomas, was a servant here," Matthew explained as he noticed Lavinia's questioning gaze.
"My daddy is fighting in the war," Emma explained, "But he writes me letters very often!"
Lavinia looked at the girl sadly. Matthew cleared his throat, "Thomas is a single parent. When he went to war, Cousin Robert offered that Emma could continue living with the servants. She doesn't have anyone else."
"That's very generous of Lord Grantham."
"It is," said Matthew, standing up cautiously. Mindful that Emma still looked at the stranger with skepticism, "Emma, Lavinia is my fiancée," he explained, placing a hand on Lavinia's back.
The little girl's eyes widened in surprise. "That means you're getting married?!"
"When the war is over," said Lavinia. But before Emma could react, William's voice rang out, "Emmi, where are you again? I said we're not playing hide and seek now!"
"Oops," grinned Emma.
"You've sneaked away," Matthew stated.
"No," she innocently shook her head. Matthew knew perfectly well that Emma was fibbing. She had of course snuck away quietly and unnoticed. Why else would the child be upstairs? The concert was over, most guests had already left, and surely such a young child should already be in bed at such a late hour.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Matthew, Miss Swire," said William with a nod of his head, "I'm afraid Emma has gotten lost on her way to bed."
"No, I haven't," she replied cheekily, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and stuck her tongue out at William.
"It's alright, William," said Matthew, "I actually enjoyed the short time with Emma. Children are to be envied. They don't know what's happening in the world out there."
"Now it's time for the little lady to go," announced William, "Hop on," to which Emma jumped onto his back, "You've chosen a carriage ride to bed," and carried the child piggyback to bed.
In just one day, she interacted intensely with four beloved young people, all of whom are no longer alive. With a deep breath, Emma stood up and began slowly making her way back to Downton Abbey.