After an exhausting day at Downton Abbey, Thomas was finally sitting on the rocking chair in the darkest corner of the servant's hall. The daily newspaper in one and a cup of tea in the other hand, but in the end he did neither read nor drink. Thomas was observing the other servants. It was a nasty habit – to be honest – but a useful one, because secrets were useful for him. From his position, he could easily see that Anna, the little blonde housemaid, was chatting with Mr Bates. Sometimes Thomas even caught a word or two. However, he didn't need to understand everything to see that Anna was fond of Mr Bates, and vice versa. Why this was so, he couldn't tell. Mr Bates was older, his face somehow crumpled, and his soul as crippled as his leg. You could see it in his eyes. Thomas didn't trust him, because Mr Bates had shown up only a couple of weeks ago to be Lord Grantham's valet. Albeit the crippled man couldn't fulfil his duties, he was allowed to stay, and the other servants had to do some of his work. It wasn't fair. Even Mr Carson, the severe butler, appreciated Mr Bates work, but only because Mr Bates was an old friend of Lord Grantham and an old friend of Lord Grantham couldn't be a bad servant.

Thomas sipped his tea. It had turned cold, but the taste of camomile was still strong. It was his favourite, because it remembered him of a time long past. He sipped again while turning his gaze toward the young blonde man who was chatting with one of the kitchen maids. His name was William. He was the second footman, and albeit he was only one year younger than himself everybody treated him like a child. Mr Carson was very indulgent to him, and Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper, watched over him like a mother would watch her child. As Thomas looked at her, he felt the typical pressing feeling in his tummy area. It was sharp, but short. He always felt it when he looked at her, but he had decided not to ask his body, especially his heart, why. Feelings were for the weak, and envy was for the weakest – the ones who envied others because they weren't able to achieve anything by themselves, but Thomas was certain, he wasn't one of them. One day he would be butler, and one day others would envy him. "One day," he whispered soundlessly, before a loud bang jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Didn't I tell you that the cooking pot should not stand on the table, Daisy?" Mrs Pattmore scolded.

"I … I am sorry. I really am. I … I didn't want this to happen. I … I," said the kitchen maid quietly, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"I am sorry, too. The preparations for tomorrow's dinner were in this pot. I don't have the time to do it again, and," Mrs Pattmore's round face turned from red to white, "I don't have enough lemons. The dinner is ruined." She sat down, silenced by realisation.

"Mrs Pattmore, I could go to the shop tomorrow, if you want me to go?" Thomas said with a smile, which didn't reach his eyes.

"You would do that? Oh, thank God. - Daisy, you also should give thanks to Thomas. He probably saved your job." As the young kitchen maid turned to him, he could see how her cheeks were turning red. Her small but dirty fingers burrowed sheepishly into her beige apron.

"Thank you, Thomas."

"It is my pleasure," he said with a wink, noticing how she blushed even more. He knew, she was in love with him, and he also knew that one day she could be useful.

"Mr Bates, may I help you?" Thomas said quietly. The valet was staring at him.

"Why do you do it?" he whispered back eventually.

"What do I do?"

"Why do you want to go to the shop tomorrow?" Thomas sighed.

"It is my duty as first footman to ensure that the reputation of Downton Abbey won't be ruined tomorrow. As you know, Lord Grantham is expecting important guests and a poor dinner would ruin his reputation as well as ours. I just fulfil my duty."

Mr Bates was not convinced. Thomas could tell by the wrinkles on his forehead which were deeper than usual, but he didn't care. If it meant that he could escape Mr Carson's scolding, Mrs Hughes's attentively gaze, as well as Anna's and Mr Bates's billing and cooing just for an hour, he would do everything.

-/-

It was an unusually cold day for April. Thomas's ears were hurting from the chilly wind; the black cap on his head merely protected half of it. Nevertheless, he enjoyed walking back from the shop to Downton Abbey. There was hardly anybody to be seen in the streets; the air was fresh, but vitalising. He walked slowly despite the bleakness, because those moments in which he was alone were rare. In a house like Downton Abbey, where more than 20 servants worked together, and where you have to share a room with at least one other person, you couldn't be alone for a second. Privacy was a privilege, which was not granted to servants – except you were butler, housekeeper, or valet. Another reason why Thomas wanted to be promoted: he needed his privacy, because he was a man with secrets; secrets as dark as the unfathomable depths of human nature.

As Thomas went to the back entrance, the entrance for servants and supplier, he could immediately tell that something was wrong. The door was slightly ajar, and indistinct voices were carried by the wind.

"What are you doing here, boy? Answer me? Did you want to steal something?" It was Mr Carson's voice, which Thomas heard first, followed by William's.

"Shall I get the police, Mr Carson?"

"Boy, tell me why you are here!"

At this point, Thomas entered. His pulse rate increased with every step, because it was rare to have a stranger in the house; maybe a stranger with a dark secret or with a story to tell. He could only see Mr Carson's broad back at first and Mrs Hughes brown hair, but the moment Thomas stepped on the last of the three old wooden stairs which led to the servant's hall, he could see the stranger at once. He could see the boy's dark brown hairs, but what got his attention were the greyish eyes. Eyes like steel, eyes like his eyes.

"Tomasz!" the boy exclaimed, and as if on cue, everybody turned to face the astonished footman.

"Thomas," Mr Carson was the first to speak again, "You'll explain immediately what's going on. Now!"