1920's - The Upper Classes.. It Was All Hushed Up.. More Downton Abbey 4/5/16

You see, Sir Richard and his 'silent partner,' Lord Castle-Ross kept close watch on Lucas. If they lost him, they'd lose the whole thing. What proof would they have? So they tailed him day and night. A few days back, when he stopped Lady Mary in the street, or when he did the same to Lord Robert, they knew about it. Such things only helped move the plot along. But as Carlisle and Castle-Ross were watching Lucas, Mr. Bates was watching them. Few realized the Crawley's employed one of the best 'fixers' around. Most thought he was simply a dedicated valet. Well, he was, though that was simply his cover. John Bates did his job well. No fuss. No noise.

It was easy to find a nice looking creole gentleman of indeterminate race in London, the Empire's a very big place, after all. And when he crossed the lobby of a certain respectable hotel and exited through the front door a certain dapper, business type surrendered his leather club chair and fell in behind. Ten minutes later, the real gentleman in question, Lucas, came down in the lift and exited a side door. That's how he gave them the slip and wound up at Lord Beryl's office. Bates wasn't even there when it happened, but he has people too. Look, if you want to succeed in the world, 'people' are nice to have.

So now Lucas was on a mail flight to Calais, en route to his ship. Seven days hence he'd disembark in Baltimore, spend a week or so being tutored in the fundamentals before boarding a cross country luxury train for Los Angeles. 'Hollywood' is a wonderful place, indeed...

And to say that the Carlisle / Castle-Ross plan was in disarray might be a bit of an understatement, for those in the know swore that Sir Richard Carlisle had what appeared to be a minor stroke, thus freeing his notorious, press-lord friend to gleefully ruin another prominent family. The working classes ate it up. What other revenge did they have?

Life went on at Grantham House and Lady Cora never knew a thing. Tom and Henry commissioned the team at a highly recommended 'machine' shop to draw up plans for their soon-to-be luxury motor car, the Branson-Tolbert 'Dragon.'... Of course they might only make five B.T. Dragons in all of year one and subsequent cars would be by order only, but the estate took care of day to day expenses. Any profits would be immediately plowed back into the business... a sweet deal and it just might work. Long and sleek... a 'sporty' town-car sedan, available in dark, glossy gun-metal, midnight navy blue and ebony. Next there'd be a meeting with Count Cosimo di Lorenzi for coachworks and interiors. Then the fun begins.

Up north, in 'The Abbey,' things were happening too. Lady Violet's literary salon took off. There were weekly teas (like casual dinners) and the dowager really detested the informality of it all, but such was life. Memories poured like wine and before long they had more than enough transcribed reminiscences for a year of monthly runs in some magazine or another. Her mature colleagues hinted at Lady Edith's publication, but the Dowager Countess of Grantham wasn't sure they were ready for such notoriety, though deep down, she rather liked the idea...  'The Age of Innocence' English style, but true in every way... She chuckled to herself. Denker asked if she wanted a charcoal pill and got a dirty look for her concern. What business was it to these salon types how her digestion operated? If only Denker understood such things.

Thus was February, 1926, with The Crawleys... a close call... some exciting business news and a bit of potential media fun.

Martha Levinsohn's as yet unannounced springtime visit was still two or three months in the future... a sudden regret at missing the weddings and a need to see her great-grandchildren, you know.

Once she discovered that Lady Mary was expecting, who knew how long she'd stay? At her age, she'd want to see the birth.

But by then they'd likely all be crazy...

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Mayfair, London .. LUCAS Meets The Solicitors .. A DOWNTON ABBEY Episode.. 4/3/16

The meeting didn't take place anywhere near Grantham House. There are special firms that handle things like this and none of them are close to Mayfair or Belgravia. 'Scandal Houses' they're called... discrete suites of offices tucked away on respectable, though nondescript thoroughfares. Robert arrived first, then Bates and finally Lucas. That's how the drivers arranged it. Weakest party enters last, confronted by, shall we say, his 'betters.' Bates could have come over with Lord Robert, but best to keep all parties separate.... Attract as little attention as possible.

They waited in a small conference room. A young woman served coffee. There was a tray filled with savory, open-faced breakfast sandwiches. The ubiquitous 'tall clock' ticked in a corner.... An older gentlemen, Sir Beryl, spoke first. He said - The important thing is to stress the cordiality and sincerity of all concerned. Actual agreements will be kept to a minimum.... And the amount in question? - asked Robert. Is it 'normal' in these circumstances? What kind of life will it afford him?.... Quite a nice life, actually - said the solicitor. If he opts for The States and I think he will, he'll live very well. New York would have never worked. You have in-laws there, your wife's family and there's no way she, or any of her people can ever learn of this...... My daughter and Mrs. Bates are very close. They share everything. How should we handle that? - asked Robert..... The gentleman gestured toward Bates and responded - Well, Mr. Bates will have to sign a nondisclosure agreement.... Bates cleared his throat, nodded and whispered - Of course..... Robert mouthed - Thank you.....

Now, knowing the ways of that household, it's quite possible, a few years down the line, everybody involved will know everything anyway. But it will happen in a natural and subtle manner. Given the loyalty they all have for each other the secret will be safe... just another episode locked in the collective conscience of Downton Abbey...

Then Lucas was brought in. He was scared. He was quiet. He was torn. Robert was his only surviving parent. He wanted to salvage whatever could be salvaged. The other ones, the people who found him first, had other aims. They sought humiliation and ruin. In his heart, Lucas did not want that. In fact, it's the last thing he wanted.

Robert offered his hand. It was accepted.... Sir Beryl said - I believe all preliminary agreements have been signed. You, my boy (indicating Lucas) will be established in Los Angeles. No longer half English and half Zulu, but a wealthy Colombian, raised in European schools. There will be a property somewhere in the new, glossy, western part of town, a car and eventually a 'couple' to keep house. Sufficient funds are already on hand with Bank of America. We've used them before, a highly reliable organization. Who knows? Perhaps someday, hopefully not too far in the future, quiet 'family' visits might take place. I've seen it happen before. The important thing is to keep you away from Sir Richard Carlisle and his cabal. They'd chew you up and throw you out in a minute. Don't doubt that..... Believe me, sir, I don't - said Lucas.... Good - said Sir Beryl. Now, as far as that group is concerned, you'll disappear. You'll cease to exist. I'm told they have photographs?..... They might - whispered Lucas..... Fabrications. Photographers' tricks. Nothing more - said the solicitor. It's almost impossible to prove the genuineness of a photograph in a court of law.....

Then they made small talk. The young woman came back in, transferred the breakfast sandwiches into a warming tray, brought fresh coffee and left...

When they were done, Lord Robert slipped out through one door... After a time, Mr. Bates left by another... and a few hours later, as dusk began to fall, a well dressed, newly minted 'Colombian' gentleman, exited a third.

London keeps its secrets...

Lady Mary knew the details... but no one else did, least of all her mother, Cora.

That night they all had a fine dinner. Lady Rosamund brought friends from the literary world and a professional harpist provided Celtic airs...

If you haven't already watched the video up above, take a look at it now. Mayfair was like that in the twenties too...

A very special place to be...

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Louis Armstrong - Savoy Blues (1927) Background To A Downton Abbey Scandal 3/31/16

 

It was one of those 'white' days. The sky was white and featureless. The grass was drab and colorless. Winter can be that way. Some days are moist and clear and blue, while others are like this. Lady Mary kept to herself. Henry and Tom went to see an automotive machinist operation across the Thames. They really do plan to press on with this motor car thing. Her father was ostensibly at 'the club,' but that was just a ruse. Lord Grantham was off with Lucas at some solicitor's office. Even Bates was in for the day. That's how important it was. If they could sincerely befriend Lucas... if they could forge some kind of a real link with that young man from South Africa, perhaps all 'the trouble' can be avoided?

How they got him away from his handlers was a master stroke in itself. God bless John Bates. God bless Anna too... home with the new baby and all. If this works, a few thousand outright will be transferred to a discrete little bank in York and a certain highly esteemed domestic couple will be very well fixed, indeed. Look, as far as Bates is concerned the 'domestic' aspect has been a ploy since day one. Even Cora suspected. Thank God she didn't know the rest of it.

So Mary sat there on a chaise lounge artfully placed in a little second story landing tableau, listening to a jazz recording and gazing through an old pair of mother-of-pearl opera glasses at what was going on across the square..... Notorious, tabloid, newspaper publisher, Sir Richard Carlisle oversaw the arrival of his 'things.'.... Probably bought them all in mass from some distressed noble, or gentry family... No, there's no 'probably.' That's how he did it. That's how he is.... And that man was trying to destroy them. Oh, there'd be 'fronts.' He knows everybody in that amoral, sensationalist cabal. None could pin it all on him, but his greasy fingerprints were all over it.

Mary loathed him... To think they'd almost married. God bless Carson. His disapproval was the thing. A butler... especially one as rarified as he, 'knows.'... Mary loved him.... What would he make of all this?

If the morning went well it might all be over... at least the scandal part. Lucas would be set up for life... not in South Africa. He'd never go back there. They'd place him somewhere in Canada, or America, or Australia, or the British Caribbean... There'd be no public acknowledgement, but rather a private arrangement beneficial to all. Would Cora find out?.... How would she take it? Infidelity is infidelity and sometimes she can be so 'American' about things.

Nothing is easy.... To think, a fortnight ago Edith went off with Bertie, Anna had her baby and all was right with the world.

Well, the world turns.....

So she sat there, watching through her grandmother's opera glasses, as a vindictive enemy climbed ever higher, beneath a bone-white sky...

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the scandals of the 1920's & CRAWLEY INVOLVMENT.. 3/23/16

Cora didn't know. Robert was sure of it. He'd almost forgotten about the whole thing itself. Odd to think of a son as an almost forgotten thing. But that's how it was. One paid people to 'cover up' and life went on. Look at Edith... 'poor old Edith'... even she did that and now she's the wife of a marquis. But the truth doesn't go away. It's always there... waiting to spill out, like wine in a carafe on a table full of drunks.

The War Office knew, or certain men within it knew. John Bates knew. He was one of the first.. Bates knew everything there was to know about almost every member of the Downton household. Look, do you want to know what he was? He was 'the fixer.' All the big men had one.... that person charged with 'hiding things.' Even Bates was hidden. Being valet to Lord Robert, the earl, was only his cover. And now he had 'Lucas' to worry about....

Lady Mary was sure her new found half brother was being manipulated by unseen forces. Her father felt so too. What else could they think? Perhaps it was shared blood? Save for the light brown skin tone he looked so much like one of them. For God's sake, he WAS one of them.  Official acknowledgement was remote. 'Racial' prejudice wasn't even considered a prejudice. It was just how things were. Few questioned it. Fewer even cared.

The thing is, they were re-opening Tea Pot Dome investigations in Washington. Mary heard it on the wireless. It was in all the papers. Her Uncle Harold in New York had a close call. They almost prosecuted him in the first g0-round, but Robert, supposedly a blameless, British peer of the first rank, vouched for him. Character witnesses were big back then. But what if it came out that the earl's character was... shall we say, less than sterling? What then? Everything is connected. Life is like a big Tinker Toy just waiting to fall down.

So that's how it was... a season, or at least part of a season, in London... waiting for the next shoe to fall.  There were dinners and 'assemblies' (formal dances) ... trips to the theater. Mary and her new husband, Henry, saw the acclaimed, West End production of SHOWBOAT at The Haymarket Theater. She cried during most of the performance. Some parts of the plot came too close to home.


Then there was the gossip. People said a house across the square had been sold. The old owner, a Miss Hammersmith, from an ancient, august gentry family had died. Relations in Canada wanted the cash and a certain notorious newspaperman wanted the house....

Sir Richard Carlisle was coming to St. James Square.... The Merlin behind the magic, revealed...

Oh, he'd never claim credit. He couldn't ... But that doesn't mean he wouldn't stir the pot.

Old enemies never really disappear. They just plot and wait.

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"SONNY BOY" AL JOLSON in "THE SINGING FOOL" 1928 vitaphone .. Playing on wireless late one night in GRANTHAM HOUSE .. 3/18/16

The house, more an urban, petit palace, was quiet. Almost everyone was upstairs sleeping after an evening of dining with friends and attending the cinema ( Abel Ganz' NAPOLEON). All was dark, or almost dark. Small sconces scattered here and there provided a bit of illumination for the occasional night owl. London was not without its private 'after hours' clubs. Many were elegant affairs frequented by bright young things, the smart set, dashing scions and noted beauties. Lady Mary Crawley Talbot certainly made the cut. True, she was in her early thirties, but a noted beauty none the less... and a handsome, daring auto racing husband only added to her allure. When the film ended, she and Henry joined a group at The PEACH TREE CLUB, a posh spot full of cream colored walls accented by classic columns and banquets all upholstered in pale, muted oranges and tans. The kitchen served racks of tiny, grilled lamb chops accompanied by smooth, almost custardy dollops of buttered grits and small cubes of the best toasted corn bread this side of The Old Dominion. But people just nibbled. Most went for the minty, supposedly American Southern cocktails and (if they still had enough energy) took a few turns on the dance floor ( the 'Charleston' and all that )

But Mary seemed distracted. Henry could tell. Indeed, everyone could tell. She feigned a headache. He got their coats. They left. He asked her what was wrong and she wanted to explain, but the family was still so new to him and old scandals can be so tedious.

So they rode in silence. She caught the eye of the driver in the rear view mirror. Even he sensed something... But London cabbies were oh so discrete. Henry didn't want to press her and pretended to be taken with the lights of Piccadilly...

Upon arriving home, Lester, the night watchmen, let them in. That's how late it was. Even the butler couldn't be expected to wait up at that hour.

She kissed Henry and told him she wanted some cold lemonade in the kitchen for her headache. He offered to join her, but she insisted he get his sleep. He didn't press it.

And Mary really did want a cold drink, but on her way to the kitchen she saw a bit of light coming from the small 'parlor' off the 'family' dining room. She peeked through the crack. Her father was in there, nursing some scotch and staring into space.... The wireless was turned down low, but you could still hear Al Jolson singing 'Sonny Boy.'

She went in and silently took a seat across from him. He knew she was there but didn't say a word.... 'Sonny boy,' how fitting. Then she whispered - I met someone on the street today.... Oh, really? Who? - mumbled her father..... In a 'calm' voice she said - Lucas, your son.....

He didn't say a word, but he tensed and his eyes teared up.... Mary said - Do you know who that is?.....

He nodded....

She quietly asked - What do we do now?.... That's when he broke down... Mary got up and locked the door....

For earlier that evening, her father had seen him too....

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TALES OF CRUSHING FEAR AND HEART POUNDING INTRIGUE .. 3/16/16

This is not a regular post. VERY HARD to post while dog sitting. I am prisoner of SOVIET PUPPIES... Want to continue DOWNTON ABBEY series and put up a bit about latest intrigue with Philadelphia vampires and nosy neighbors, Constance and Lars. But tonight is different.

Was watching TV FX show #TheAmericans.. Love that show (about Russian spies embedded in pre Soviet collapse America). Big writer/producer JOEL FIELDS ... (clickable to his Twitter account) is on line and all should follow.)

Show gave me ideas for other themes....

Here's one----

BREATHING ROOM

In near future governments have tiny sensors planted all over cities. Sensors constantly sample air for various DNA signatures. Every time we exhale tiny bits of our DNA float out into the vapor. In this way govs can track almost everyone. They even recruit population at large to help. EXAMPLE - speakers might say --- Attention populace, the 'arch criminal' Joe Blow is living in vicinity of First Street and Second Avenue blah blah blah...very bad individualist (FLASH PICTURE). Bring him to justice and receive many fabulous luxury gifts from grateful OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OPPRESSOR...(or whatever)

We follow a few people running for their lives... sort of like THE FUGITIVE..

Imagine even being afraid to draw a breath...

after all... Everybody has to breathe<~~~ tag line.

Second show is somewhat similar too.

SUBMARINES -----

Germany in the 1930's and 1940's....

Forty Thousand Jews hide in plain sight in Berlin with false papers proving they and their families are Christian and have always been so for generations.

Some are inducted into the armed forces

Some work for Nazi hierarchy.

What was that like?

Imagine... nothing to fear...

except every single move they ever make...

This is based on real events. About forty thousand people are known to have survived this way.

They did call each other 'Submarines.' Some had small children with them... Think about the crushing fear...

I think these two examples would make good stories, on say FX or Syfy...

OK, that's it... Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to post out regular ongoing tale..

Thank you ALL!

Billy

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Perfect Love (1920's jazz ballad) LADY MARY MEETS A POSSIBLE SIBLING .. 3/14/16

Lady Mary stepped out alone. Even new brides need time for themselves and she decided to walk. The day was bright. She liked the way she looked in her new chic, fox collared coat. Shop windows made perfect mirrors. It was that kind of day. Everyone was left to their own devices. Her parents took the children to a matinee of Peter Pan. 'The boys' made the rounds of all the top drawer automobile showrooms... a perfect opportunity for a little innocent self indulgence. Perhaps a jaunt down to Selfriges for a tiny bit of 'war paint,' as her father called it. Maybe she'd visit the salon and have her 'doo' sharpened up? London in the 20's... what could be better?

The young man fell in behind her. He'd been watching the townhouse for days. At first he considered approaching the countess. He'd heard see was American. Maybe an American would be more accepting? Everyone supposed that's how they were. Who could tell. Britain was changing too. Every tabloid and magazine shrieked about the Lady Vera Cathcart scandal. My God, the American's even denied her entrance... questionable morals and all that. But he had to share what he knew. So he zig-zagged through the throng (almost skipping at times) and caught up.

She was looking at a display of smart, stylish handbags when he came up behind her. She saw his reflection in the window, right behind a snappy, little Coach number .

He spoke. He said - Excuse me, but are you Lady Mary Crawley? Forgive me, but I've seen pictures.... She said - No, I am not.... for since her marriage, the 'title' was more or less only a social courtesy... And some people did stroll the district in hopes of meeting 'posh' types... Some even asked for autographs. He seemed well behaved and polite. Probably a visitor from the colonies.

He spied the lie, but had to press on and said - Please, I have something to show you, a photograph..... Another blackmailer? - she thought. That business with the hotel maid was supposed to be over and she told him so... He said - No, I'm not (he looked hurt), but, if you would, kindly look at these.... He took two photographs from his pocket and held them out so she could see....  One was of himself. The other amazingly enough was of her father, taken when he was about the same age. They almost matched. Save for the skin tone, everything else was nearly identical.... even the smile.

She said - Who are you? What is this?.... Struck by the immediacy of it all, he responded in a still, small voice and said - I believe we may be related.

They spoke for a bit. He left... Lady Mary just walked. She teared up, but she walked... Composure it everything... at least on the outside....

That's how she met Lucas...

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