A few days I was getting depressed over the Christmas Special, because we didn't get any bit of Tom Branson in the promos. Until today! Now at least now we know he's really in it and once again I'm looking forward to it.
But I really want some nice Tom scenes and the following one is something I would really like to see! I love Allen's and Rob's bromance and so I really would like a nice Tom and Thomas scene.
The lyrics are from the song "Johnson's motor car" which was obviously popular in Ireland 1920.
Thank you so much to Scarlet for editing this story!
Sharing a bottle of Whiskey.
The light in the garage was the only sign that someone was in there at this late hour of the night. Thomas Barrow stared through the window, but couldn't see anyone. Had Pratt simply forgotten to turn off the lights before he left for his five days off?
The Crawley family had left for two weeks to visit their relations in Scotland, only Mr. Branson and little Miss Branson were still at the house and they didn't require much attention. Mr. Branson took his meals with the staff downstairs although Mr. Carson wasn't happy about it, but couldn't really insist on serving him dinner upstairs. Even more so, as he was still uncomfortable about serving the ex chauffeur at all. He was a member of the family now, but with the rest of the family gone, it seemed odd to pretend Tom Branson was of higher rank than the staff.
So now the staff had two weeks to spend either catching up on work that couldn't be done while the family was around or like Pratt, Tom Branson's replacement, was taking the opportunity to visit his own family. The rest of the staff was enjoying their spare time. Tonight, they were all off to the fair in Grantham village. Thomas had wanted to go with them, but halfway through their stroll towards the village he had decided this wasn't a good idea and he turned around. Nobody was talking to him anyway and he was sick of getting odd glances from Alfred or Jimmy all the time.
He decided to go the short way back and just passed the garage when he heard someone singing.
"What will my local brethren think, when they hear the news
My car it has been commandeered, by the rebels at Dunluce"
"We'll give you a receipt for it, all signed by Captain Barr
And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you'll get your motor car"
"Who the hell...", Thomas couldn't immediately put the deep singing voice to a name, but the lyrics gave him away.
"Mr. Branson?" He stepped through the door into the garage and looked around. There he was, sitting on the floor behind the old Renault, leaning on the wall of the garage, a half empty bottle of whisky in hand.
"Well helloo there, Mr. Thomas Barrow", Tom Branson said, the words slightly slurring. "Wanna drink with me?"
Thomas grinned slightly. "Drinking uh? What's the occasion?"
"Sssad. Just ssad, Thomas. Drinking to my mmessed up life." Tom Branson suddenly looked as if he was going to cry any second. He took another gulp from the bottle and waved his hand around. "You can join if you want."
"I suppose I could", Thomas agreed and sat down beside the former chauffeur. "It's not that my life isn't pretty much messed up, too."
"Guess so. From what I've heard anyway." Tom nodded his head and handed him the bottle. "So you aren't at the fair with the others?"
Thomas laughed unhappily and took a sip. "No. Surprisingly I'm not really popular among my colleagues any more."
Tom giggled. "Oh come on, you never were. Didn't bother you then", his Irish lilt was even more noticeable when he was drunk. "But I know what you mean. Let's drink to outsiders!"
He took the bottle from Thomas' hands and raised it to his lips.
"Damn it, almost empty", he swore. "And I'm not even proppa-properly ddrunk yet."
"You seem pretty drunk to me. Wait until you get up and try to go to the house", Thomas grinned. "I bet you're going to find it more difficult than you believe."
Branson shook his head vigorously. "I don't go to the house. I'll stay here. I wanna remember Sybil. I always was here with her...my ssweet darling...", he pointed to the door with the bottle in his hand. "There. She was always standing there. So beautiful. Always so beautiful...", his voice cracked. "I need more Whiskey."
"So here it all happened then, uh?" Thomas found himself asking. It wasn't really curiosity. At least he thought it wasn't. He never had been close to the man back when he was still working as a chauffeur. Neither he nor Tom Branson had friends among the staff, but unlike him, Branson didn't have enemies either. Most of the other staff members liked Branson, because he was polite and friendly. He and Branson at least got along, which was probably more than he could say about most of his colleagues.
Tom let his head fall back to the wall. "Yes." He took another gulp. "Five years of waiting and hoping. Right here in the garage."
"Five years? You were in love with her for five years before you..." Thomas was astonished. "Never thought of that. I thought it was a sudden thing back then."
Tom sounded almost sober now all the sudden. He laughed unhappily. "No, far from sudden. I fell in love with her when I came here and stayed in love with her when she rejected me more than two years later. And then I waited another two and a half years until she said yes. And I would have gladly waited another five years or longer for her. She was so worth it." His voice turned bitter. "And then we had one year together. One blasted, single year! The most wonderful year of my life. And you know what? Now she's already longer dead than we were married... If that's no reason to drink what is?"
Thomas saw tears slowly run down the other man's face. He didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, really. He thought about what Tom had said. He remembered being astonished when Tom told them one day that he and Lady Sybil were going to get married. He had assumed it was for the money on his side and had felt sorry for Lady Sybil being so stupid to marry way beneath her. He also assumed that the chauffeur had seduced the girl and that she was probably "in trouble". When it turned out that she wasn't, he had to admit that he had been wrong about Tom's motives. Anyone who had eyes could see that the couple had been deeply in love when they returned to Downton again for Lady Mary's wedding to Mr. Crawley.
"You know what?", Thomas finally said. "I never liked you and I don't know if I like many people, but I did like your wife. She was kind and caring."
The corners of Tom's mouth switched slightly. "Yes she was", he broke in a crooked smile now and raised the bottle to him. "And I never liked you either. I thought you were a scheming bastard."
Thomas nodded. "I thought you were a dead bore with all your politics and Ireland and never having fun", he suddenly started to grin. "I always thought you were handsome though."
Somehow both men found that very funny. The started to laugh so hard that they had to hold their sides.
"I think we should go to the house now", Thomas finally gasped, when they stopped laughing.
Tom nodded. "I guess so." He tried to rise, but couldn't get up. "Oups..."
Thomas rolled his eyes. "Come on. I'll help ya." He pulled Tom to his feet.
"You think you can walk?"
Tom swayed a bit. "Sssure", he started towards the door, but almost tripped over his own feet. "See?"
Together they walked slowly to the house.
"Thomas", Tom said when they parted after sneaking into the house through the back door.
The underbutler turned around.
"Thank you."
Thomas smiled. "You're welcome", he said. And he was surprised himself that he really meant it.
THE END