| Primary Characters: | Thomas, Baxter |
| Rating: | MA |
| Spoilers: | Some |
| Warning: | m/m rape, non-con, m/m sex, violence |
| Description: | Thomas makes friends with a woman at the pub. Later her also meets a visiting servant and makes an error of judgment. That leads to disaster. |
It was Thomas’ evening off and for once, he decided he needed to get away from Downton. He would dare to go to the pub. Hopefully, most of the locals would be ignorant about who or rather what he was. After the treatment the other servants had put him through, he felt as if he was suffocating, even if he had to admit that Baxter was doing her best to be supportive. Just as he had come to expect of her, she smiled and nodded to him when she passed him on his way out.
”Going out?”
That didn’t really require an answer but somehow he found himself replying anyway.
”Yes. I thought I’d go down to the pub.”
He waited for a few seconds, in case Baxter would have an opinion or perhaps a warning about giving himself away, but she said nothing, just nodded again and left on her errand. No one could teach him anything about hiding himself and his true nature. Not that Baxter had tried, so he should just put the thought out of his mind and get going.
He decided to choose the pub on the outskirts of the village, rather than the one closest to Downton, just in case. It didn’t look like the worst kind of rough place, but rather one that catered to a mix of people from various classes, except the aristocracy.
There were plenty of customers at this hour and he found it hard to find a spot to himself. About twenty minutes after he’d sat down and ordered his drink, a woman walked in, looking left and right for a seat. Thomas ignored her and focused on finishing his beer. It was his evening off and he was going to enjoy it. Besides, most of the time it wasn’t women he needed to worry about.
”Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
He looked up to find the woman he’d observed moments earlier standing over him, an inquiring but polite look on her face. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he nodded, then found his voice.
”Yes. As far as I know.”
Apparently she took that as consent and sat down. He kept an eye on her for a few seconds, wondering if she was going to try to make conversation. It wasn’t often it happened, but sometimes young women like Daisy made the mistake of believing him available. When he was younger, he had sometimes been flattered. This one seemed rather educated and also a little shy. She seemed to be waiting for someone, but perhaps not someone who was going to come in very soon. It looked as if she was resigned to waiting a long time. Perhaps she had seen him as someone safe, harmless who wouldn’t bother her while she waited for her gentleman friend. If so, she was right. He wouldn’t bother her.
A few of the men passing by submitted her to rather rude stares. Thomas couldn’t help noticing. Her face took on a hint of colour but she refused to dignify their looks with any other reaction.
Then a rough-looking character stopped and cast an insolent glance on Thomas, seemed to decide he was irrelevant and said something to the woman. At first Thomas missed the comment. The accent was too broad for him to catch the meaning, then judging by the woman’s reaction, his mind leapt backwards and he realized that the man had been extremely rude. Stung by the obvious assumption that he didn’t count, that he was a nobody, he impulsively decided to interfere, though he knew deep down it was a bad idea. He wasn’t tough enough to stand up to a bully and besides, if this woman got it into her head that he was somehow available – but it was too late to back down now.
”Move on. The lady isn’t interested.”
The man took another look at Thomas, but to the latter’s surprise, he actually seemed to back down a bit. As if he’d misjudged Thomas. A coward. Hopefully.
”Sorry.”
The muttered excuse seemed to be directed to Thomas, rather than the woman, but at least the brute walked away. When the woman turned to face Thomas, he braced himself for potential trouble. If she thought –
”Thank you. That was kind of you.”
”Oh. Well, I just – ”
Embarrassed, he focused on his glass, that he now noticed was empty. Deciding to take the risk, he nodded and produced a half-smile that he hoped wouldn’t be interpreted as encouraging.
He went to have his glass refilled and for a moment agonised over whether he would be expected to buy the woman a glass now that they’d exchanged a few words. But he didn’t want any complications. If she thought him rude too, she would just have to live with it. Apart from other servants, Thomas wasn’t used to being around women, not since his childhood.
After a while, the woman went to get a glass of something that looked like ginger ale or some other soft drink and sat down again. She wasn’t looking around for her friend, so whoever he was, he was going to be late. Thomas couldn’t imagine that this respectable-looking woman was in the pub to pick someone up. She had to be waiting for someone.
After another few minutes, she turned and faced Thomas. She didn’t look at all – as if she was trying to pick him up. Far too respectable for that. He caught himself hoping she wasn’t from some kind of church, wanting a new proselyte.
”My name is Emily Parker.”
That meant he had to introduce himself as well, but somehow he didn’t feel threatened by her. She was almost but not quite a lady. Lower middle class was Thomas’ guess.
”Barrow. Thomas Barrow.”
She nodded amiably but didn’t seem to have anything more to say. About twenty-five minutes or so later, she caught sight of a man entering the room and got up, nodding again, this time as a goodbye.
He found himself mumbling something that could be construed as a polite goodbye. Strangely enough it had felt good to have exchanged a few words with someone, like everyone else. Perhaps next time he and Baxter had time off at the same time, they might go together. Unless of course she would be spending her time off with Molesley. It was hard for Thomas to imagine that anyone found Molesley attractive, but he had a feeling Baxter did, possibly merely because he was a kind man. To Thomas the other man’s behaviour spoke of weakness rather than kindness, but perhaps that was true as well. And he assumed a man who was like everyone else didn’t need to be as strong as someone like Thomas.
It was another two weeks until his next evening off. This time too, he decided to go down to the same pub, since it had worked out so well the last time. Baxter didn’t have her evening off until the following week, so it had been no use asking her. He rather thought she might have accepted. She was always kind to him, perhaps kinder than he deserved.
Just like the last time, the pub was full and it was difficult to find a seat to sit down in. As he scanned the tightly packed rows of people, he caught sight of a familiar face. That woman. Emily Parker. She looked up, recognized him and smiled. Since there wasn’t any other space to sit, he decided he might as well sit there, if the seat wasn’t taken.
”Is this seat taken?”
”No. My – friend – will not be in until later and we might go on to somewhere else then. So go ahead. Mr Barrow?”
”Yes. Miss Parker.”
She nodded. So she was still unmarried, but most likely with expectations on this ‘friend’. Good. Less risk of complications. As long as the friend didn’t misconstrue their acquaintance, this would be alright.
This time, Thomas thought he might be expected to buy Emily a drink, though he wasn’t quite sure what the rules said about buying another man’s lady friend a drink. Just to be on the safe side, he asked Emily discreetly if it would be alright for him to do so and she didn’t seem to find anything odd about it. Just as he had guessed she wanted a ginger ale.
”Thank you, mr Barrow.”
He nodded, slightly self-consciously. How Andy and Carson would laugh at him if the found out he was out here, buying women drinks.
When the silence began to feel a little difficult, he found himself telling Emily about his work at Downton. Just his title really, nothing about what he did, which wouldn’t interest her anyway. She didn’t seem to find anything odd about it.
”I work at the grocer’s over on Kingsley road.”
”I see. Is it a good place?”
”Yes, I think so. I grew up with a greengrocer and my father still owns the shop, but I’m the youngest of five. Some of my older sisters and brothers are helping him out, though.”
Just as he’d thought. Lower, lower middle class or so Thomas guessed. Of course, her accent sounded slightly more posh than that.
”I hope Rodney comes in soon, or I’ll have to leave right away. Evening classes.”
That might explain it. She was looking to better herself. He could understand that. Hadn’t he tried the best he could to raise himself above his modest origins? Emily seemed to be doing better than he did.
”Oh. That sounds interesting.”
Why had he said that? She might think he was trying to impose. If she didn’t read him correctly, she might even misunderstand and take his interest as – He began to feel hot under the collar. A girl like that might have lived a sheltered life and might not realize –
”Yes, it is. I’m – perhaps it’s foolish of me, but I was hoping to become a teacher. If it isn’t too late already. Rodney tells me I’m a fool. Besides, if -”
She faltered, then looked up and caught sight of the by now familiar figure of her ‘friend’- Rodney. He didn’t look very pleasant. Thomas had expected someone like Emily to have a more sophisticated or at least well brought up friend. Someone like Molesley maybe, only younger. This one looked like he might be trying his hand at the illegal back street boxing matches Jimmy had told him about.
Emily got up hastily, then mumbled a few words of goodbye. She had told him she was in a hurry, but somehow Thomas had the impression that she was concerned about Rodney’s reaction to her lateness – even though he was the one who had arrived late. Having met many bullies in his life, Thomas was familiar with the impression. No matter what Carson thought of him, he wouldn’t have wanted to – have anything to do with – a man like that Rodney. He found himself pitying Emily and hoping she might meet someone better, someone nicer.
Two weeks later, when Thomas would be having his usual evening off, the Earl had an appointment in London and decided to take Thomas. It reassured Thomas that at least he wouldn’t lose his job just yet.
So it was that it was another month until the next time he had the opportunity to go out again, but he saw no reason not to visit the pub again. He had begun to enjoy his evenings there. The beer was good and apart from the odd rough character, most of the guests were civilized and polite, or at least minded their own business.
Thomas even caught himself looking for Emily, though he knew it would do him no good. People like him had no reason to expect friendship among the ordinary people. He kept expecting Emily to find out about him – perhaps someone would take it upon him- or herself to inform her and then – but he would worry about that if and when it occurred, not a moment before. Even if she turned away from him, he would still enjoy his evenings in the pub. Why shouldn’t he? After all, he had as much right as anyone else to go there. Who knew what secrets the other guests were hiding? He hadn’t seen anyone like himself, but he had more or less stopped hoping for that by now. It was just as well that he resigned himself to the thought of a lonely future. Better than risking his life at the hands of bullies. A little voice at the back of his mind whispered that it might be altogether for the best not to have his heart broken again.
Then Emily walked in, ordered her usual ginger ale then began to look for a seat. Remembering his earlier thoughts, Thomas couldn’t stop himself from waving discreetly at her. Just to see if she still – Her face lit up, but no more than anyone would at the sight of a casual acquaintance, he told himself. He was sure she was devoted to that brute Rodney. Or perhaps he was being unfair. Judging a man by his looks. Perhaps Rodney was a much nicer man than he looked. In any case it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
”Hello, mr Barrow. You’ve been away for some time?”
”Yes, my work took me to London.”
”Oh.”
Something about her tone hinted that she would not have minded work that took her to London. It wasn’t hard to understand her enthusiasm. Women would enjoy the brightly lit shop windows. Perhaps with her interest in education she would like to go to a play or show.
”I never have time to – see the sights.”
”I suppose so. London -”
She sounded wistful. Yes, he had guessed correctly. They exchanged a few more words, then Rodney’s arrival put a stop to any further conversation. Thomas thought he could detect a look of dismay on Rodney’s brutal features. Emily seemed subdued and unhappy. He didn’t think he was wrong about their relationship, but that wasn’t any of his concern so he forced his mind away from the topic.
After an other fortnight, Emily didn’t show up all evening. Then the next time, she had a big bruise around her left eye and she looked even more unhappy. Distressed even. No matter how much Thomas told himself this was nothing for him to put his nose into, he found himself pitying Emily. He was hoping it wasn’t his fault for sitting next to Emily and talking to her for several weeks. Despite her distress, Emily smiled faintly at Thomas, but chose another seat further away. So that was it. Not because anyone had told her about him, but because that brute had misunderstood. It would almost be laughable, if Emily hadn’t suffered for the mistake.
Thomas decided that he might take a break from his pub visits for a while. Not that he didn’t have a right to go anywhere he wanted, just like everyone else. He just didn’t want to add to Emily’s troubles.
As he was leaving, he caught some odd looks, not in his direction as he kept expecting, but directed at Emily. He even fancied he overheard some whispers, but he couldn’t interpret what people were saying. Perhaps there was something more behind her downcast features? In any case, it was time he removed himself from a potential problem situation. There was nothing he could do to help anyway and he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself.
Besides, a dinner party that was being planned made evenings off an impossibility for most of the servants. Some acquaintances of the Crawleys were coming for a visit and all the servants were required to do their part. This particular group were mostly unknown to most of the servants. They looked like they came from London or at least somewhere more sophisticated than the North. One of them brought his own man, Henslow. There was something about him that made Thomas feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he was relatively handsome. Thomas had learned years ago not to give away any unusual reaction to a pretty face or an attractive body. No, there was something else. Something nasty, even though the man hid it behind an ingratiating mask. Though Andy didn’t talk to him anymore, Thomas thought the other man was uncomfortable around Henslow as well.
When he was serving dinner in the evening, Thomas felt the three guests from London studying him out of the corners of their eyes. Something was wrong. He experienced a moment of fear. Why were they staring at him? What did they want? Had they heard something about him? He felt a shiver go down his spine and his immediate reaction was anger, which helped him recover himself. There was nothing for him to fear. He had faced the horrors of the trenches. These three were nobodies, despite their high connections. Dandies. Fools. Naturally, he had nothing to fear from them.
To his surprise, the three young men were invited to stay on for rather longer than the servants had expected. The rest of the guests left, but the three remained, including their man Henslow.
One evening, when Thomas was returning to his room upstairs, Henslow intercepted him, smiling far more invitingly than earlier. If Thomas hadn’t known any better, he would have thought he’d been mistaken and that perhaps what he had taken as nastiness was something else. This time, Henslow was friendly, open, and even made a few jokes. Nothing in poor taste. It was as if he was going out of his way to be friendly. Thomas didn’t think he was wrong about the man, but found himself relaxing again. When Henslow began to indulge in what was unmistakable flirting, against Thomas’ better judgement, he was taken in. It had been so long since he’d even seen anyone smile at him, let alone touched him, even in a friendly way.
Though he suspected it was a mistake, he let Henslow follow him back to his room and go further than Thomas would normally let anyone, not at work. He knew it was a ridiculous risk, but it had been years. Mistake or not, it felt too good to finally feel wanted. Attractive. Henslow told him a lot of things Thomas knew were lies, but he pretended to believe them, because he wanted to. Because for once he wanted to relax and be – himself. Enjoy life, instead of this constant struggle to keep up appearances, to pretend he wasn’t bothered by the others’ slights and disparaging comments. Towards morning Henslow slipped out leaving Thomas to wonder if he had made the worst mistake of his life. If so, at the moment, he didn’t regret it, but he feared he still might.
Nothing happened in the day or two that followed and Thomas was beginning to relax a little. Perhaps Henslow had seemed so sinister simply because he too hid the same secret Thomas did?
A few days later, Carson informed Thomas that the servants could take their evenings off on other days than usual, as long as only one of them was absent at a time. That was an unexpected treat, so once again, Thomas decided to go down to the pub, but this time a different one. He wasn’t going to add to Emily’s troubles, he told himself.
This pub wasn’t as nice as the other one, but no one bothered him and he didn’t see anyone that looked familiar. He had a few beers, but decided to return early, just in case Carson would have more work for him. With guests in the house, no one could ever truly relax.
It was pitch dark, but Thomas knew the way to Downton like the back of his hand. He wasn’t concerned he’d lose his footing, even on the narrow bridge over the river. The road was uneven and stony, but he was still light on his feet.
Just as he was about to turn onto the final path, the one leading to Downton, he ran into a dark shape that was unyielding and hard. Arms grabbed him and he reacted instinctively and lashed out. A fist struck him on the chin and he began to flicker in and out of consciousness. More arms grabbed him, picked him up and carried him away. When he became more aware, he heard low voices talking close by.
”I told you, that was the one.”
”So you did. And didn’t I tell you, all of you, that Henslow is up for anything? Good man.”
”Thank you, sir. Much obliged.”
”Well, let’s hurry before the Crawleys’ miss us. Put him down over there. There’s grass and – it will be more comfortable. For us. I tell you what, Henslow, you have the first go, since you were the one to find him and – do the ugly deed with him.”
”That’s alright, sir. I don’t mind waiting my turn. You go ahead.”
”No, you start, Henslow. Get him warmed up.”
Their harsh laughs grated on Thomas’ ears. He knew something was wrong. What a fool he’d been. Now he was going to pay for it. He was beginning to wonder if they were even going to let him go afterwards. Because there was no doubt in his mind about what they were going to do to him. He felt torn between a wish to let them kill him if that was what they wanted and a stubborn wish to stay alive, no matter what they did to him.
Someone – and Thomas knew that someone was Henslow – began to tear his clothes. While he was partially conscious they must have tied him up because no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t get in even one good blow to defend himself. When his pants tore, he retreated inside himself and tried to think of anything but the situation he was in. The pain forced his mind back to the present and he bit down hard on his lip not to give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.
After Henslow, each of the other three took turns with him. He recognized the accents. His agressors had to be the three guests from London. Henslow’s masters. So they’d sent him to scout ahead. To identify him. So they could have their sport with him. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d reacted the way he was sure Andy would have, they couldn’t have known who he was. Perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. But he had been a fool and now they knew who and what he was.
When they were done with him, they began to kick and beat him and eventually he lost consciousness. Much later, he came to, only aware of a searing pain all over. There didn’t seem to be even a single part of him that didn’t hurt. Perhaps they had intended to kill him. The ground he was on, was bitterly cold. If he stayed much longer, he could still die, if his injuries weren’t bad enough to cause a lingering death later. But his time as a medic hinted that he wasn’t that badly injured. He’d seen far worse in the field hospitals. No, he wasn’t going to die, unless he deliberately stayed here all night, to let the cold do its work. For a time he was tempted, but somehow a stubborn wish to stay alive made him try to drag himself closer to Downton. Perhaps he ought to have chosen the village, but the familiar attracted him, perhaps foolishly.
He might have picked the wrong direction in the dark but somehow he found himself back on the path and when he turned a corner, slowly, painfully, he saw the lights of Downton beckoning to him, with their relative safety. He knew that there was no welcome to be had there, but at least it was familiar. What passed for a home for someone like him, a servant, without a home of his own.
He couldn’t hold his head up for too long and his strength was waning, but he stubbornly dragged himself along a little further. No, he wouldn’t give up. Too many people would cheer his demise. He would try to live for his own sake.
”Thomas?”
The familiar voice startled him and he lost the last trace of strength and slumped down.
”Is that you, Thomas?”
Baxter. She was out here, late at night, watching for his return. For a second, his eyes stung. The salt aggravated the pain. She cared that much about him, even though he had done his best to reject her friendly overtures. No matter how rude and unfriendly he had been.
”Thomas?”
Gentle hands probed him, but he couldn’t – wouldn’t let them – even if it was only Baxter. He heard a strange noise, like from a wounded animal and shamefacedly realized it was him.
A whiff of candle grease told him Baxter had brought a light and she bent over him to take a closer look. He heard her draw in breath, sharply.
”Thomas? What happened to you?”
A low whimper was all the reply she had.
He sensed the light moving over him, but he didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want anyone, not even Baxter to know what had happened to him, but he didn’t have any strength left to withdraw into the shadows.
”Thomas – I’ll have to – I can’t do this on my own. I’ll be back soon. It will be alright. I’ll get help.”
She was babbling. Nothing would be alright ever again, but he couldn’t miss the kindness in her voice, despite the underlying note of panic. He allowed himself to black out. Whatever happened now, at least he was away from those men. Inside the walls of Downton he would be as safe as he’d ever be.
When Baxter returned with Molesley in tow, Thomas was unconscious. She realized that it was probably for the best. Molesley made a lot of worried noises, but for once Baxter ignored them. If she had been able to carry Thomas herself, she would have, but as it was, she needed someone she could trust and the only one – apart from maybe Thomas himself – was Molesley. She sensed that Thomas, for reasons she determinedly decided to ignore for the time being, would want his condition kept as secret as possible. Knowing what she knew about Thomas, she was very much afraid –
Unfortunately, they ran into Andy on the way up to the servants’ quarters and Baxter had to waste precious moments ‘explaining’ something to Andy she had no idea about.
”Yes, Thomas has had a little accident and we’re taking him upstairs.”
She was painfully aware of the strong light, mercilessly exposing Thomas’ ruined face and worst of all – something she herself had failed to notice until just now – his state of undress. Andy wouldn’t miss one single detail and a minute or two later, everyone else inside the walls of Downton would know as well. How stupid of her not to go on ahead to check if the coast was clear, as it were. But Molesley, poor dear Molesley, wasn’t as strong as she had hoped and was clucking rather like an upset hen about – everything.
Baxter was able to get Molesley to put Thomas down on his own bed, then was able to get rid of him, thanking him profusely. She smiled warmly and had the satisfaction of hearing Molesley stop complaining and returning her smile. He really was a very nice man, but at the moment, she wanted everyone else as far away from Thomas as possible. She had to think. There had to be something she could do, but she had to know –
Only moments after Molesley had left, the door opened again to reveal him back again, face drawn with renewed worries.
”Mr Carson wants a word with you, miss Baxter.”
”Oh. About -”
Molesley nodded, obviously making an effort to calm down. What was she going to say to Carson? She didn’t even know anything yet, but she was afraid – With an effort, she forced herself not to begin to bite her fingernails as she used to as a child, whenever she was scared or nervous about something.
If she said – Andy had seen Thomas, which was extremely unfortunate, but other than him, only Molesley had seen the full extent of Thomas’ injuries and she knew Molesley wouldn’t give them away. She could tell Carson – yes. Even if Andy talked, there was a chance that everyone would think the young man had exaggerated out of a wish to cause a stir. It would be her word against his and maybe –
While she was making plans, she had ended up outside Carson’s office and she took a deep breath to collect herself. She could do this. If only she kept a cool head, she might still protect Thomas’ secret. She knocked on the door and waited.
”Come in.”
She opened the door and slipped inside, forcing herself to project a calm expression on her face.
”Miss Baxter.”
”Yes, mr Carson.”
”I hear that Thomas – is indisposed.”
”Yes, he had had a little accident on his way back from the pub. Lost his footing near the bridge, I believe and fell and hit himself. I haven’t had time to check any further, but -”
She was babbling. Carson would notice. Stupid of her. Now he would begin to wonder.
”I see. Andy – But I should have known that boy would be exaggerating. Boys will be boys.”
Carson took a deep breath and once again presented that inscrutable servants’ face to his visitor.
”I suppose we must give Thomas some time to recover. How very inconvenient with guests in the house, but I suppose we shall have to make do. Very well, you can return to your duties, miss Baxter.”
”Thank you, mr Carson.”
There she went again. Stupid. What was she thanking him about?
Before she returned to the kitchen to take up her darning again, she hurried up the stairs to check on Thomas. He was beginning to regain consciousness which only marginally reassured her. In the bright electric light, his injuries were horrifying. One eye was completely swollen shut, the other at least half shut. She couldn’t see much more than – dried blood caking the inside of his thighs. Baxter had to bite her lip and swallow hard not to throw up. Surely that had to mean –
”What are you staring at?”
Thomas’ sharp question was almost a relief, it reminded her so much of his usual self, or at least his earlier self, before he had softened a bit and warmed up to her.
”What happened?”
”I fell. I slipped and fell from the bridge and – it was an accident.”
”I see.”
”I – will try to be back at work tomorrow -”
His voice trailed off uncertainly. Thomas had been a medic in the Great War. He would know that it would be more than a week, probably more before he was back on his feet.
”I will send for dr Clarkson.”
”You will do no such thing, Baxter. I mean it. This is – nothing.”
His show of bravado didn’t fool Baxter and she knew that he was most likely aware of the fact as well. Now she noticed that his lips were crushed and his entire face was covered with emerging bruises and there was blood all over the rest of his face. His nose looked crushed as well. She tried not to look any further out of respect for Thomas’ feelings.
”Even so, if you want to get back to work as soon as -”
”NO!”
This time he didn’t just sound harsh. The single word came out as a growl. Baxter knew it was time to go before he upset himself even more, but she couldn’t help trying one more time.
”I could -”
”No. I don’t need anyone’s help. Just go.”
She stared down at her own feet, feeling miserable. Once she had promised Thomas’ sister to look after her younger brother. There had to be something she could do.
Perhaps realizing how ungrateful he sounded, Thomas’ voice came again, softer this time and she sensed in how much pain he was to sound so subdued.
”Thank you for – bringing me back here.”
To he relief, it didn’t occur to him to ask her who had helped her carry him because Thomas had to know she didn’t have the strength to carry a grown man herself.
”Of course. I’ll – be up later with something to drink or -”
He didn’t reply. The eye that was still partially visible was hidden by the discolored eyelid. He wasn’t losing consciousness, just shutting her out. There was nothing more for her to do here. But she would be back. She would think of something to do to help him. Even though she didn’t have any knowledge of nursing, she had a dreadful suspicion that if nothing was done, he might die. Bleed to death of unseen internal injuries or perhaps – a word half-remembered from some news report – shock. She shouldn’t have asked, just sent for dr Clarkson anyway.
On her way downstairs, she caught Andy whispering with Daisy outside the kitchen. They broke off when they heard Baxter passing. She sat down on her chair by the kitchen table, restlessly moving her darning from one hand to another. Was it true that mrs Crawley – mrs Isobel Crawley – was a trained nurse? Could she send for her, even though Thomas had refused to accept dr Clarkson’s help? Or would that too, mean betraying a confidence – even if it was one she’d stumbled across by acccident?
The worry was gnawing away inside her. Wouldn’t it be better to betray his trust and save his life? But what if he wasn’t nearly as badly injured as she had thought? She was painfully aware of her own ignorance. Yes, he must have been physically attacked and perhaps more, but what if she was led astray by all the blood? Or if he had had a voluntary meeting with another man and – run into some bully on the way back? Either way, Thomas wouldn’t thank her for giving him away. But surely he was as badly injured as he seemed?
The sound of a bell ringing from upstairs, called Baxter back to the present. Her ladyship wanted her services. Years of servitude had made Baxter put aside her own concerns and focus on her duties. She found that even tonight this helped. It was awfully late for such a request though. She was hoping it was nothing to do with Thomas’ situation.
But the Countess only wanted help to retire for the night. If she noticed her maid’s distraction, she made no mention of it. Lady Edith was away in London and Baxter assumed Anna was helping lady Mary, so nothing further was asked of her.
She couldn’t stay away from Thomas’ room so instead of retreating to her own room, she walked upstairs to the male servants’ quarters. Normally, she would never visit a man in his room, but she knew no one would have anything to say about her visits to Thomas. At least that was some consolation, but it was nothing she had time or energy to waste on considering.
When she knocked on the door, there was no reply and she was considering walking in anyway, but in the end, she knocked again. A weak, but exasperated reply was heard from inside.
”Yes, alright, come in if you have to. Is that you, Baxter?”
”Yes, it’s me. Shall I bring up a glass of water or something?”
”What? Water? Yes, I suppose – do what you want. I don’t care.”
”Alright. Something to eat?”
There was no reply and she felt her cheeks heat up at her own stupidity. Thomas would be in no mood to eat after something like this.
In the kitchen she was met by mrs Patmore.
”Is Thomas expecting his supper to be sent up to his room?”
”No. I’m just going to take him a glass of water.”
”That’s alright then. I heard -”
”Yes, he had an accident on his way back from the pub.”
Mrs Patmore studied Baxter thoughtfully. She might seem both sharp and jolly at the same time, but she was nobody’s fool and Baxter had never thought so.
”An accident? I see. Well, then -”
On her way back upstairs, Baxter ran into mrs Hughes, the new mrs Carson.
”Are you going up to Thomas?”
”Yes. He asked for a glass of water.”
Which wasn’t quite a lie, nor quite the truth either, Baxter recalled. At least he hadn’t violently opposed the suggestion.
”I thought I’d come along and take a look for myself.”
Baxter felt prey to widely diverse impulses. Part of her wanted to protect Thomas from the prying eyes, even such kindly eyes as those of mrs Hughes. Another – was relieved. She was a coward. If someone else took the decision from her, she might wash her hands of any further action taken by her superior.
The two women walked upstairs in silence.
Baxter knocked again and waited.
”Yes, go on if you have to.”
She wanted to call out that she wasn’t alone but knew she couldn’t very well tell her superior to stay outside. It was out of her hands now.
It was a moment before Thomas caught sight of the new visitor. When he did, he started, but to Baxter’s relief, he didn’t cast her any reproachful glance.
”Thomas. What happened to you?”
Mrs Hughes walked all the way up to Thomas bed and took a closer look. By now, he was covered by a sheet and blanket and only his face was visible. Even so he shrank away from the penetrating gaze.
”I’m sure Baxter has told you I slipped and fell. By the bridge. I was clumsy and hit myself. That’s all. If I can have a few days -”
”You’ll be away for much longer than that, if I’m not mistaken.”
”I spoke to Carson earlier and he – was going to make arrangements. Andy and – ”
Thomas made as if to nod, but couldn’t quite manage it.
Baxter forced herself to insist on giving him at least a few sips of water. She almost wished she hadn’t. His first reaction was to shrink away from her hand, then when he must have realized he was giving himself away, he made a painful effort to tolerate her touch. His lips started to bleed again. Baxter winced.
”Well, I should be going.”
Mrs Hughes hesitated, then turned and walked over to the door.
”I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Thomas seemed indifferent to Baxter’s whisper. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
Outside on the stairs, mrs Hughes stopped and made eye contact with Baxter.
”Have you sent for dr Clarkson?”
”He insists he doesn’t need a doctor.”
Mrs Hughes nodded.
”I see. We’ll – see about that. For tonight, we’ll do nothing. Tomorrow -”
Baxter nodded. Again, she felt torn. If mrs Hughes took the decision out of her hands, it would be a relief, but on the other hand – she felt responsible for keeping Thomas’ secret, always assuming there was one. She couldn’t be completely sure.
The following morning, Baxter overheard much talk about Thomas. Most of the other servants had little or no compassion or sympathy for him. It was as if everyone assumed that whatever had occurred and no one was quite sure about that, which at least was a relief, it was all Thomas’ own fault. She had known that would be their reaction, but it still felt too harsh. If they’d seen him – not only Andy – but all of them – surely they’d see that no one deserved such horrific injuries.
Even though she strictly speaking didn’t have time to spare, she went upstairs to check on Thomas so many times he snapped at her to leave him alone. If anything, he seemed worse than better and Baxter knew she would have to come to some sort of decision soon. She would not face Thomas’ sister and tell her that she had let her down, failed her little brother and allowed him to die.
When the bell rang and called her upstairs to the Countess, Baxter forced her mind back to her work.
To her dismay, it turned out the news had come to her employers’ ears.
”Baxter – I just heard about Barrow. Is he very badly injured?”
Baxter felt herself go cold. What was she going to say?
”I – think so.”
”I hear he – fell and hit himself?”
”Yes, something like that.”
”I see. Well, if he needs help -”
”Yes, mylady. I’ll – let him know.”
Baxter waited breathlessly, but apparently the Countess had nothing more to say. After finishing her duties for the morning, Baxter was allowed to retreat to the servants’ quarters.
In the late afternoon, she was told to go upstairs to the library. Her heart was beating painfully in her chest. What was going on? She was shown inside the spacious room to find Mrs Isobel Crawley seated on one of the sofas.
”There you are, Baxter. I heard about Barrow. What is this about not sending for dr Clarkson? I’m surprised at you. All of you. From what I hear, Barrow is badly hurt and no one’s thought to call for a doctor. No, not another word. I realize that none of you have any medical training, so I suppose it’s no wonder, but – Never mind. I called him myself. He’s on his way here as we speak. In the meantime, Baxter, take me upstairs. I will see for myself.”
”Yes, mrs Crawley.”
It was out of her hands now. In a way, it was a relief. She was only hoping Thomas would see it that way.
Mrs Crawley took the stairs so quickly Baxter had to struggle to keep up. She had a feeling she was seeing the nurse in action, not the upper class lady.
To her relief, mrs Crawley stood aside and let Baxter knock on the door. Again, the reply was so long in coming, Baxter’s breath caught in her throat. What if they were too late?
”I suppose you’d better come in. Can’t you just leave me alone?”
Before Baxter had time to open the door, mrs Crawley practically pushed her aside and burst inside. Baxter followed as closely as she could.
Again it took Thomas a moment to realize he had another visitor than he had expected. He opened his mouth and closed it again, seeing that there was nothing he could do or say to turn his persistent visitor away.
”Hello, Barrow. I’ve come to take a look at you.”
There was no reply. Baxter could easily imagine how Thomas felt about the intrusion but knew there was nothing she could say or do to help, so she remained in the background.
”The doctor will be here any minute now, but I thought I’d come up right away and take a look.”
Thomas gasped then turned an agonized gaze onto Baxter.
”The doctor? But I told you not to -”
”Baxter has nothing to do with it. I called in dr Clarkson. It’s all very well to keep a stiff upper lip, Barrow, but in a situation like this – I would have thought you of all people would see that. You were a medic, after all. May I?”
Her question was just a formality and Baxter and Thomas both knew that. He steeled himself for the touch.
Mrs Crawley pulled the covers back. Baxter noted that Thomas must have managed to rearrange his clothing. Mrs Crawley’s fingers touched Thomas’ face lightly and he found that he could just about bear it. She didn’t comment, just continued her examination.
When her attempts to undress Thomas met with a desperate resistance, mrs Crawley accepted, again without comment.
”I’m sorry, Barrow. The doctor will be up shortly.”
She patted his hand ineffectually, then left, leaving Baxter to face Thomas on her own.
”It’s like she said. I had nothing to do with it.”
Thomas nodded weakly.
”Yes, I see that. I’m done for. It’s over. They’ll send me away. Who would want me around after this? I’m finished.”
”No. That’s not fair. This can’t have been your fault and -”
”Don’t be naive. You know that won’t matter to them. They know what I am and -”
”Who was it? Someone from the village?”
He silenced her with a look. At first she thought it was merely because he felt she had overstepped the mark, then it began to dawn on her what his silence really implied. Someone from the upper classes? Middle class at the very least. In any case, someone beyond the reach of the law. Thomas was right, no matter how little she wanted to see that. His only hope lay in convincing the doctor, a trained medical professional, that nothing more than an unfortunate accident had occcurred. Which was to say no chance at all.
”Thomas -”
Knowing she was wasting her time, she couldn’t help reaching out to touch his hand. To her surprise, he didn’t snatch it away. He seemed hardly aware of it.
It seemed like only a few seconds had passed when there was another knock on the door. Baxter went to open it, after a hesitant glance at Thomas who seemed oblivious. It was really only a formality anyway. There was no real way of refusing the doctor’s visit now.
”I’ll – come back later.”
Again, it seemed Baxter was speaking to empty air. There was no reply, at least not from Thomas. The doctor merely nodded.
”So, Barrow, I hear you’ve been injured.”
”Yes, I slipped and fell on my way back from the pub. I’m sorry you had to come all this way for nothing. I suppose – ladies tend to overreact.”
”I see. Hm. I shall have to examine you now.”
Thomas knew he was giving himself away to the doctor, but he couldn’t control his reaction. He tensed up and tried to move away from the doctor’s hands.
”Barrow, please. Calm down. Would you like me to ask mrs Crawley to come back?”
All the reply he had was Thomas’ shallow breathing.
”I’ll go get mrs Crawley.”
A few minutes later they were back. Once again, Thomas was forced to fight his own reaction and was able to endure mrs Crawley’s touch, then even the doctor’s. He didn’t want to pay attention, but he was called back to the present by the sound of mrs Crawley’s indrawn breath. Her hands were on his left hip. It hurt terribly, but somehow he was only partially aware of that.
He overheard snatches of conversation.
”… hip… yes, broken… ribs… I don’t think – no haemorrhaging – but the other – surgery…”
Eventually, the hands withdrew, giving him a momentary relief from the constant tension.
”Barrow. I shall have to take you to the hospital. Your hip needs surgery. It’s broken and if we don’t do something about that, you’ll never walk again. And there’s – anyway, I can’t do it here. Mrs Crawley – will you please go and send for a car? We shall do without the ambulance, I think.”
Thomas heard mrs Crawley’s heels tapping on the floor, then vanishing and the door closing behind her. He was hoping that would be the end of it, but he couldn’t help wondering what the doctor wanted.
”Barrow – I give you my word that no one outside this room will ever know what we discovered. Mrs Crawley will assist me at surgery and – no one else will be involved. As for the paperwork – I will – make an exception and note that you were in an accident just as you told me.”
Thomas stared at the doctor, as if he hadn’t heard a word he said. Even if he had heard, he found it hard to make out the meaning of the words. It was as if they were coming from very far away.
”Why?”
The doctor looked baffled.
”What do you mean why?”
”Why would you do that for me? You know -”
”Yes, I have heard the talk just like everyone else, but that has nothing to do with this. I know what I saw. It may not be the most common – occurrence for a country doctor, but I can put two and two together. Someone did this to you and you had nothing to do with it. I wish you’d tell me who was responsible, so we can set the law on them, but I do see that it would be hard to -”
”Hard? You have no idea. It’s not – anyone the law can reach anyway.”
A stunned silence followed. Something moved in dr Clarkson’s eyes, then a grim look settled on his face.
”I see. Well, we’ll say no more about that, then. Barrow – I want you to know that at college I met three or four excellent fellows, good friends, great doctors – what I’m trying to say is that I for one, do not judge people. You served your country with merit. I don’t see that there’s anything else to say. We are who we are. Good people deserve respect.”
Once again, Thomas felt his good eye sting. He had no idea the doctor was so – kind. Even when he’d helped him become a medic.
”Thank you, doctor. I -”
”Save your strength. Don’t worry, I’ll patch up that hip so it will be as good as new. I’ll bandage the ribs too, so you can breathe more easily. And – the rest. Don’t give it another thought. Mrs Crawley and I will see to everything.”
Thomas knew that the doctor couldn’t mean to be so naive. He had to know that it wasn’t as easy as not giving it another thought, but he also knew the doctor meant well and he held back his sharp retort. Besides, how would it look if a servant answered back? Then he thought of something that had been on his mind for a while.
”Doctor – try again.”
”What?”
Clarkson looked as if he hadn’t heard Thomas correctly.
”Mrs Crawley – she turned him down, didn’t she? Try again.”
Clarkson’s mouth dropped open and Thomas was beginning to think he’d made a mistake. Stupidly he had wanted to say something to repay the doctor for his kindness but when he heard his words come out, he knew he had been too forward. But the doctor didn’t seem to be offended. Merely so baffled he had difficulty finding the words.
”Eh – well, you know, I doubt if that would help, but thank you for the advice. How did you -”
”How did I know? I may be – who I am – but I’m not blind. She’s a good woman. You’re a good man. I’m not saying Lord Merton isn’t – but -”
”Eh, yes, quite – I think that’s the car now. I’ll just give you something for the pain and we can be on our way.”
Thomas steeled himself for the doctor’s touch again, but found that it wasn’t that hard to do. The sting of the needle didn’t bother him and by the time mrs Crawley returned, he was beginning to feel pleasantly numb. He was wondering who would come to help him downstairs and hoped that it wouldn’t be Andy or Bates, but that was hardly likely. Bates walked with a limp and – if the doctor was wrong about his qualifications as a surgeon, so would he. To his relief, mrs Crawley and Baxter supported him on his way down the stairs. Carson must have given orders that no one else be present as he was taken away so he didn’t see anyone, not even mrs Hughes. He should have known no secret was safe in this house.
Mrs Crawley sat in the back with him all the way to the hospital and dr Clarkson rode in front beside the driver.
The next few hours were a blank in Thomas’ mind. He suspected it was partly because the doctor kept him generously dosed up, and during the surgery, he was of course out cold. When he came to, he had to admit he didn’t feel anything, at least not physically.
He wasn’t too surprised Baxter came to visit on the second day when he was coming out of the anaesthetic. There were screens around his bed which provided them with a measure of privacy, but as he’d known Baxter wouldn’t say anything compromising. She merely held his hand and he let her. Somehow he didn’t feel like keeping up his tough outward behaviour. Not with her. She was an old friend, no matter how little he liked to acknowledge such debts.
They didn’t say much. What was there to say? It pained him that she knew and that mrs Crawley and dr Clarkson did as well. In fact, it was far worse that the two latter knew than Baxter. That they had seen – and with their medical knowledge been able to draw every conclusion there was to draw. It wasn’t fair, but he was ashamed. Felt guilty even though he knew he had done nothing to deserve such a treatment. Except – if he hadn’t been such a damned fool with Henslow – There was no denying that indirectly he was to blame. He should never have been so stupid. His initial instinct had been not to trust Henslow and his baser needs had forced him to ignore his mind. So in a way, he probably did deserve what had happened. Though he would rather have died than shown weakness, he found that his eyes – both eyes were now functioning as well as could be expected – filled with tears.
Baxter shyly reached out and put a hand to his cheek, poised to withdraw it at the first sign of resistance, but none came. Encouraged by that she gently ruffled his hair. Damn. He had always suspected that his sister and Baxter saw him as a child still. And here he was behaving like one. She bent over him and – was she going to embrace him? He was torn between his first impulse to cower away like the pathetic wreck he was – and – two seconds later he was resting his head on her shoulder and crying like a child, like he’d never done since he was one. Strangely enough, he felt a little better afterwards. Perhaps he should thank the hospital and their drugs for that, but he thought not.
”Thank you. I – know I never say this – but you’re a good friend. A far better one than I deserve.”
”Oh, never mind. I think I know you better than you know yourself. There’s a good man inside you, Thomas. You just need to let him out once in a while.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiled. That felt wrong somehow, and it wasn’t because of the crushed lips. It just wasn’t like him to smile. He had never felt he had much reason to do it, since he’d realized what he was.
Baxter said her goodbyes and got up to leave. Her work called her back to Downton.
In the dower house, Thomas was, unbeknown to him, being discussed by mrs Crawley and the Dowager Countess.
”And it just makes me feel so powerless. That those – ruffians – will get away with their crime, just because -”
”This sort of thing would never have happened when I was young. Besides, I wouldn’t call these three gentlemen. Regardless of their background. Let’s see – I know – yes – a great uncle of one of those three. A very strict man. If I have Robert hint at – yes – I think those three will find themselves in a not very pleasant situation. Rest assured, there are always ways, cousin, if you take the time to think things through.”
”And you will take care of it?”
”I said, so didn’t I? Is your hearing going? Mine is still excellent, thank goodness.”
Isobel pressed her lips closed. She wasn’t going to dignify that with a reply. Especially now that the Dowager Duchess was going to make sure those three got their just punishment. She had seen what horrific injuries they’d inflicted on poor Barrow and – she also knew – though the doctor hadn’t spelled it out in so many words what had been going on just before the physical attack. What a vile despicable thing to do. They must have felt quite sure a servant, and one with Barrow’s weakness especially, would never be in a position to have justice. How wrong they were. For once, she was very proud of her new cousin, insufferable as she could be at times.
After a week Thomas was told he could return to Downton, but dr Clarkson impressed on him that he wasn’t to resume his duties until at least another week had gone by. At least the doctor’s confidence in his skills as a surgeon hadn’t been unjustified. Though at the moment, Thomas walked with a slight limp, he had been assured he would eventually regain full mobility in the hip and leg. The ribs would heal eventually, as he had known they would. Much of the rest was really nothing, just as he had tried to convince people when it happened. What wasn’t nothing had been dealt with. Physically, he knew he was going to be fine.
The first week after his return, he remained in his room, visited only by Baxter and once, by Mrs Hughes. That was easy, but he kept undermining himself by imagining what Andy and Bates and Carson would think of him. What they would be saying. And worse, what would the Crawleys be thinking and saying? A hard knot formed at the pit of his stomach. He asked Baxter but as he’d known she was too kind and tactful to tell him the truth. Besides, everyone knew she was his friend. They wouldn’t talk freely in within her hearing.
When he did get back to work, he wasn’t sure if his fears were realized or not. Andy – found it hard to face him. He wasn’t sure if the boy was embarrassed, disgusted or – Bates was his usual hard, sarcastic self. Carson had that look of solemnity that could mean just about anything. For a while, that almost seemed reassuring.
Later, Thomas realized that no matter what the other servants thought or said, or even the Crawleys, he couldn’t forget. He was the one who couldn’t get over what had happened. Until those men had begun their physical assault he had been more or less fully conscious. He had known everything they were doing to him. In every last painful, humiliating detail. He couldn’t take it. The incident grew in his memories, and far from getting over it, he found himself more and more disturbed and shaken. During the nights, he woke up screaming, cold and numb, but his mind alive with images from the assault more vivid than on the night they had occurred.
He was forced to face the fact that he would never feel better, never be able to leave the incident behind him.
Baxter wasn’t helping either, though he knew she tried. She was doing all she could, but it wasn’t enough, and Thomas now knew that nothing ever would be. It wasn’t her fault. No one could have done more. There just wasn’t anything anyone could do. At least not –
On his next evening off, he told Baxter that he was going down to the pub. Once he was out of sight of Downton, he turned and took another route, one leading down to the railway bridge. He had taken the time to find out when the next train was coming. All he had to do was wait just over an hour and his troubles would be over. There was a grove right next to the bridge where he could wait. No one would see him from the road or the railway until it was too late. He had left a note up in his room, or rather two notes. One for Baxter and one for his sister. He didn’t think they’d understand, but – he couldn’t live for them. If he couldn’t find a way of going on, their love for him couldn’t hold him back.
He made his way into the grove and leaned on one of the trees. It was less than an hour now. Fifty-seven minutes. When he thought maybe a quarter of an hour had passed he looked at his watch again. Close enough. Then another twenty minutes. Just as he was about to look again, he was distracted by a noise. Someone was coming. His first reaction was anger. Why did this other person need to come out here today? Couldn’t he or she just have left it until it was too late? Until there was nothing they could do to stand in his way. Then he recognized the person who was coming towards him.
”Miss Parker?”
”Mr Barrow?”
She appeared to be equally surprised to see him. Then something furtive crept into her eyes. Perhaps because of his own intention, Thomas jumped to the conclusion that she was here for exactly the same reason. He glanced discreetly at her to try and discern what her intentions might be. Was it his imagination or was she – somehow fatter today than when he’d last seen her? Women’s bodies weren’t familiar to him but surely that belly protruded a little too much? As if she’d sensed his scrutiny, she blushed. She began to pace back and forth, looking as if she might change her mind and disappear any second now. Thomas didn’t know what to say.
”Mr Barrow –
”Miss Parker -”
They had spoken at the same time and broke off self-consciously. He forced himself to remember his manners.
”Sorry. You first, miss Parker.”
”I – heard that you had had – an accident.”
Her tone – it was impossible but – had she heard what had really happened? He felt his face heat up. It had to be his imagination. His guilty conscience.
”Yes.”
”I’m sorry.”
”And – you? What takes you out here?”
He couldn’t believe he’d said that. That he’d be so – direct.
Her face took on colour. Perhaps she had something on her mind too. Some shameful secret she didn’t want to share. Surely it wasn’t the same thing? That Rodney seemed to be an awful brute, but surely not even he could be so –
”I don’t know if you’ve heard, but – Rodney – I thought – I expected him to ask me to marry him. Then when he heard that I’d – fallen – and everyone else had heard too – he told me he – he said that anyone could be – the father and -”
She looked as if she might faint, but Thomas could tell it was mostly the embarrassment. He wasn’t familiar with women, but he knew enough to be able to tell that this wasn’t something she would have shared with anyone, except perhaps a close family member, at least under different circumstances. Her confession reminded him of that time when she had been beaten by her ‘friend’ – perhaps because of him. He felt impelled to ask.
”Miss Parker -”
”Emily.”
”Emily. The last time we saw each other – I apologize if I’m being too forward but – it looked as if perhaps your friend Rodney -”
She almost touched her eye, then thought better of it.
”Oh, that. Yes, he – was jealous. I tried to tell him that he had no reason to – but he wouldn’t listen.”
”Emily – was it – me – he was -”
He broke off, self-consciously. This was just too absurd. How could any man be so jealous of a man like Thomas? What a fool.
”Yes. One of his friends had mentioned that we were speaking on a few occasions and that – was enough. Don’t pay any attention to it.”
”But he refuses to – marry you?”
”Believe me, it wasn’t your fault. He would have – I know him too well. He has a new lady friend now. And he never liked my ambition. My wish to better myself. He told me it was no use for the likes of me.”
”Then he’s a worse fool than I thought.”
He couldn’t believe he had said that. How well did he know Emily anyway? He was being too forward again. Stupid of him. But stupid or not, he didn’t think he was wrong in assuming that Emily had come out here for the very same reason he had. She was pregnant and on her own. Would the grocer let her continue working for him? Would her family take her back? He thought not, or she wouldn’t have resorted to this – measure.
Suddenly, he felt fed up with all the injustices. When he was younger he had assumed that everyone else was in a better position than he was. They were all – normal. He was flawed. A pervert. Someone everyone could spit on. Look down their noses at. He had been wrong. Baxter’s situation had shown him that. Now Emily. Women at least, had their own set of problems and injustices to deal with.
She smiled faintly at his words, but the smile barely reached her eyes. He thought he knew what she was thinking. What he had been thinking before he knew who had come to disturb him when he was about to carry out his plan. As if the thought had conjured it up, he heard the train approach. The whistle broke the silence, then a cloud of steam billowed up and for a moment obscured their sight. Then it was gone. Too late. He noticed a look on Emily’s face. Despair. Resignation. Was she thinking the same thing? Too late.
”Emily – if someone else was to marry you – would that change anything?”
She frowned as if she couldn’t quite make out the meaning of his words.
”Marry me? Yes, I suppose so, but who would – No one would marry someone like me. A fallen woman.”
The tone was bitter now, not puzzled anymore.
”Fallen? People like to talk. Forget them. What do they know? Emily – I – I’m just a – well, you know what I do. Perhaps you also know – everything else about me. But if – if you don’t mind about that – I’d marry you. If you’ll have me. I won’t be able to provide much of a home for you – for us – but – at least – it would save your reputation. If you want to saddle yourself with a man with my reputation.”
”You’re – very kind. Your reputation? Yes, people do like to talk, but they don’t know you. I think I do, at least enough. You’re a good man. I – I’d be honoured to be your wife.”
Not until now did he realize what it was he had done. Suddenly, he felt weak, but deep down, he knew that he didn’t regret his offer. He knew that he felt partially responsible for what her ‘friend’ had done to her and also for refusing to do the right thing.
”Then – I’ll – I’ll – get you a ring?”
”There’s no need, if you don’t have one or – your word is enough.”
”No, I want to do this right. I’ll – get you a ring and – all the rest. If you could – I’m not sure what exactly -”
She smiled again, and this time the smile really did reach her eyes.
”Of course. I’ll help you with all that. And – you won’t -”
She glanced briefly down onto the railway tracks. Thomas blushed. So she’d known too.
”No. I give you my word.”
He would have to find a way of going on anyway. At least he would be doing someone else some good.
He couldn’t imagine what Carson would think, or Bates, or Andy. They would laugh but that was their problem. He didn’t live to fulfill their expectations of him. This was something he never could have imagined, but the more he thought about it, he found himself warming up to the idea. Why not? At least this way he wouldn’t grow old alone.
FIN
© Tonica