Month: March 2015

After Edith’s departure to Casablanca, Marigold changes her name to “Mari” – as she believes her mother wishes. Mari and George have a whirlwind romance. They feel something so real for each other – as though they were meant to be together – as if they’ve always been connected. They spend their time together in London dancing in dance halls, eating in eateries, and strolling in parks. Soon George is ready to introduce Mari, the love of his life, to his family. When Mari and George arrive at the gorgeous estate home to which George is the male heir, Mari is astounded. It’s practically a castle! Although she knew George was an aristocrat, she did not expect such grandeur.

Mari is adored by George’s family – that is his mother and grandparents, for George’s father died tragically in a car accident the day he was born. George explains to his family that Mari’s father was killed in the War and her French mother, an aristocrat, died of the fever in India. George’s grandmother, Lady Cora, sighs and smiles, “Poor child. There must be something we can do.”

There is! George asks for Mari’s hand in marriage! Mari agrees without the slightest hesitation, knowing that her mother would be so proud.

As a house-warming gift for George’s family, Mari presents a small painting by Prince Kurigan. Its heavy coral brush strokes, aqua splattering, and fuchsia squiggles look a bit out of place in the traditional estate home, but George is sure that his mother will embrace it – as she is fond of all things modern.

Indeed, Mary – George’s mother – observes the painting with pleasant surprise. His grandfather, Lord Grantham looks confused, but it is the look on Charles’ grandmother’s face that is the most interesting. Lady Cora, who is quite an art connoisseur, blushes intensely when she see the painting. Doing his best to be polite, Lord Grantham suggests that the painting be hung in the sitting room for everyone to enjoy. Lady Cora quickly suggests that it might be more appropriate in a more intimate setting. Lord Grantham, thinking that Lady Cora is merely trying to spare him from having to look at the garish picture, good-naturedly says, “No, no – it belongs in the sitting room.” And he takes down a painting of a classic landscape and replaces it with the modern Kurigan.

Pleased, George suggests that he give Mari a tour of the estate. As soon as they exit, Lady Cora explains to her husband that the painting is a picture of his mother, the Dowager Countess, as a young woman IN THE NUDE!

“Nonsense!” laughs Lord Grantham, “Just because one loathsome art critic convinces you that you have an eye for art in order to make you swoon and sway for him, you think you are an expert in the interpretation of this ‘art’ – something that any child could paint? If only you were so confident in your own needlepoint – which is a much finer art than this sorry excuse for home décor.”

Whilst Lord Grantham is still chuckling to himself, Carson – the butler – announces the presence of Lord Grantham’s mother: the Dowager Countess, who nearly faints when her eyes fall on the painting.

“Mother, it’s ghastly, I know,” Lord Grantham sighs, “but we must get on in these modern times.”

Ignoring her son, the Dowager Countess urgently asks, “Where did you get that picture? Why is it hanging in the sitting room for all to see? Apparently you believe in the deficient decency standards of these modern times and have no respect or common courtesy for the mother who raised you! Exposing me like that! Take it down immediately.”

Lady Cora sends Lord Grantham a knowing smile, and an embarrassed Lord Grantham quickly removes the picture and secrets it away.

Meanwhile, George and Mari stroll on the grounds hand-in-hand, George showing her the gardens, gazebos, tenant cottages and farms that he will soon share with her. When they arrive at one of the tenant farmhouses, she has a passing sense of déjà vu. But it couldn’t be; she’s never been here before.

Halfway around the world, Edith disembarks from a small plane on the tarmac of a small airport in Casablanca. Wearing a smart dress suit and a fashionable hat, the brim dipping slightly over one eye, she searches the crowd for her true love, Michael Gregson. Their eyes meet and they rush into each other’s arms, embracing each other as though they would never let go again. Eventually Edith pulls away and straightens her smart outfit. Michael pays a porter to take Edith’s luggage to her hotel and helps Edith into his chauffeured car, suggesting that they should go to Tony’s restaurant and bar to get a bite to eat and catch up on all the lost time. While he’s finalizing details with the porter, Edith asks the driver, “Tony? Who is he?”

The driver replies, “Tony? Who is he? Mademoiselle, he’s the kind of man that, well, if I were a woman and I were not around, I should be in love with Tony. But what a fool I am – talking to a beautiful woman about another man.”

Back in London, Rosamund invites Edith to join her for tea. In the comfort of Rosamund’s stylish home, Rosamund hands Edith a charred note. Confused, Edith carefully opens the letter. Tears stream down her cheeks as she reads that Michael Gregson is alive and wants to reunite with her in Morocco. Edith alternates between joy and disbelief. Yes, it’s true. Astonishing! Michael IS alive!!

Then Edith remembers with dread that his wife – her dear friend Luna – is alive as well. And Luna is not a lunatic, as Michael believes. What is she to do? Does she reveal that fact to Michael? Does she tell heartbroken, dying Luna that her husband is alive? Or . . . . .

Edith decides that Michael has been through so much, it would be unkind to tell him that his wife is alive, but dying. As for Luna: revealing that Edith, her best friend, is the “other woman” who destroyed her life, would be unkind. It would be too much for anyone to lose a husband and a best friend. Kind-hearted Edith determines to keep the secret locked deep in her heart.

When Marigold arrives home from school, Edith quietly tells her that her father is alive and wants them to join him in Morocco. Marigold is devastated. “Why now?” she cries. “Now that I have fallen in love with the man of my dreams!?! Why, why, why? Oh, Mother, how can you follow your heart to your true love when it means separating me from mine? I’m nearly 18 years old! If I don’t marry soon, I’ll be an old maid!!”

Edith quite agrees. For all of Marigold’s life, Edith had one destiny for Marigold: to marry – the dream that had always eluded Edith. Edith agrees to let Marigold remain in London with dying Luna, so she can marry. Besides, it might be too much of a shock to Michael if Edith shows up in Morroco with his grown daughter. Best to break it to him gently, she reasons.

Edith sends word to Michael that her love for him is eternal and that she will be leaving in the morning for Morroco. Edith explains to Luna that her long lost brother – thought to be dead – is in fact alive. He is in need of care, so Edith must go. (Edith also implores Marigold to stick with this story to spare Luna the angst of knowing that Edith is leaving her for a man. Marigold is confused, but agrees to perpetuate the lie.)

That evening, Edith’s last evening in London, is dark and stormy, but Edith greatest desire is to see the young man her sweet Marigold is destined to marry. So as Marigold attends yet another debutante ball, Edith stands in the cold rain, under a tattered umbrella, peering through the window with pleasure as all the beaus are vying for Marigold’s attention. To any ordinary passerby who watched Barbara Stanwyck in “Stella Dallas” every night, this night would seem like any other. But that ordinary passerby would be wrong. It is no ordinary night. Tears of joy trickle down Edith’s weathered face as she watches Marigold place a red rose in a handsome young man’s lapel. That must be Marigold’s beau, George. The young man clasps Marigold’s hands with adoring affection. But while Edith’s heart is warmed with the joy of seeing her daughter in love, Edith’s feet, head, and hands are far from being warmed, so she heads home in the rain to pack for Casablanca.

Back in her modest apartment, Edith takes the “Best Friends” locket from its hiding place deep in her dresser drawer. She tries to pry-out the picture of Luna, but is unable to, so she just places a picture of herself over her best friend’s portrait and gazes longing at the locket – with her portrait next to Michael’s – reflecting on their destiny.

The next morning, Marigold wishes her mother bon voyage at the port, where Edith hands her a locket that bears the words “Best Friends.” Marigold opens the locket as Edith explains that the man in the picture is Marigold’s father. Edith beseeches Marigold to keep the locket hidden from Luna because, Edith lies, Luna once had a similar locket and seeing Edith’s would just upset her.

Before stepping on the gangway, Edith turns and delicately waives to Marigold, uttering a simple utterance that will forever change Marigold’s life: “Marry.” Then Edith strolls aboard the great ship. As was often the case in the early 20^th century, there were no speech bubbles, text messages, or emoticons, so Marigold misunderstood the meaning of her mother’s request and thought she meant for Marigold to go by her abbreviated name: Mary.

 

When Rosamond arrives at the Dower House in Ripon, the butler, Sprat, joyfully ushers her to the sitting room to have tea with her mother, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. Sprat pours tea, then lingers. “Thank you Sprat. That will be all,” the Dowager Countess nods, hinting to Sprat that the conversation will not begin in earnest until his curious ears leave the room. Sprat sighs as he exits the room. The Dowager Countess rolls her eyes, feigning exasperation, with pleasure.

“So, my dear, what pleasantness brings to you visit me today?” the Dowager Countess asks her daughter.

“Mother, I must know: Do you know the whereabouts of Edith?” Rosamund counters.

The Dowager Countess replies, “Heavens Rosamund! Stop talking in riddles. Get to the point.”

Slowly and firmly, Rosamund asks, “Do . . you . . know . . the . . whereabouts . . of . .Edith?”

“Well, let’s see,” answers the Dowager Countess pondering with an air of innocence, “about 16 years ago, she left a note saying that she was leaving. I don’t believe that the note said where she was going.”

“Mother, I know where she is and I’m wondering if you know as well. Perhaps your friend, the Russian Prince, mentioned something to you?”

“Oh, why yes – I do remember, vaguely, someone mentioning something about Edith,” the Dowager Countess says – feigning recent recollection.

“Mother, have you told Robert and Cora that you know where their daughter is?”

“Oh dear, Rosamund. I have not told them. I know Edith wants to remain separated from the family, so as long as she is managing, I will honor her wish. I’ve been giving Kurigan a small sum every week to pass on to Edith and Marigold. She believes the money represents a portion of the proceeds from sales of his paintings. My dear, it is best that we hold the secret in our hearts. Besides, it’s always good for a Crawley to have one or two secrets tucked away,” she says with a wink.

After dressing for dinner, Rosamund and the Dowager Countess join the rest of the Crawley family for dinner at Downton Abbey.

Dinner is delicious, but uneventful. No one reveals a scandal. No one utters a curse word. No sauce is accidentally spilled. Then the Crawley family retires to the sitting room, lounging about.

Mr. Carson enters sitting room. “I’m sorry to intrude My Lord, M’Lady. But a letter has arrived – for Edith. I thought you would want to see it at once,” Mr. Carson says as he hands the note to Lord Grantham.

Lord Grantham opens the envelope, reads the note, takes a deep breath, looks up, and exhales as his eyes meet Cora’s. “It’s from Michael Gregson. Apparently, he had to fake his death in Germany. He escaped to Morocco and wants Edith to join him there.” Reading from the note, he continues: “I know much time has passed, and I would understand if you moved on and married another man and raised a family. I know I should wish that for you, but my deepest hope is that you have continued to hold me in your heart as I have never ceased holding you in mine. All my love, Michael.”

Amused, Mary laughs, “The one man who loves Edith wants her to be a spinster, and every other man who’s met her shares that sentiment. It’s dreadfully hopeless.”

The Dowager Countess, cautions, “Mary, stating the obvious makes you appear dull.”

“Oh Granny,” Mary continues smugly, “I daresay we should avoid dredging-up the whole ‘lost Edith’ thing again. Let bygones be bygones. Besides, she’s been on her own for so long, she has probably forgotten how to properly use a fish fork. If Michael saw her now, he would hardly want to keep her.”

Lady Cora replies, “Mary, we’re talking about long-suffering love, not dinnerware. But I don’t like the idea of Edith running off to Morocco. Isn’t it full of foreigners?”

Always helpful, Tom interjects, “They’re actually called Moroccans, and since they are now a French protectorate, I’m sure you’ll find that they are quite civilized.”

The Dowager Countess chuckles to no one in particular, “How, exactly, does one where a fez-beret?”

Robert, Earl of Grantham, ends the conversation, “I quite agree with Mary. There’s no point in disrupting our lives trying to track down Edith again. It’s time to move on – for us and for Gregson.” And with that, he tosses the note into the fireplace, where it gently glides down, landing just to the side of a flaming log.

“What’s that?” the startled Dowager Countess exclaims, “I thought I saw a black llama through the window.”

While everyone except the Dowager Countess and Lady Rosamund rush to the window, the Dowager Countess flicks the note from the fireplace with her cane. It lands near Lady Rosamund, who cautiously tamps the red-hot edges with her shoe, then carefully places the charred note in her petit purse, unobserved by the llama-seekers.

After several minutes of looking out the window for the llama, the group returns to the sitting area. It would not have been astonishing to see a llama, since several tenants were raising alpacas and llamas – thanks to the foresight of Tom and Mary into a growing trend of exotic pets.

As the evening comes to a close, the Dowager Countess and Lady Rosamund take their leave.