"Here's something for us! Alfred, Mr Branson," Jimmy enthusiastically announced and gestured towards the sign. Tug of war it said. Cash prizes to win. Instead of spending money at the fair, they could be winning some – and it was a decent sum too. Jimmy's eyes glistened with excitement at the prospect. "Let's give it a go," he suggested.
The company following behind him all stopped and also proceeded to read what was written on the sign.
"I don't mind," Mr Branson said, a smile drawn across his face.
"What about you?" Alfred asked and examined Mr Barrow head to toe, with eyebrows raised in doubt that he would wish to partake.
Jimmy chuckled scornfully under his breath. "Isn't it a bit rough for Mr Barrow?"
He could feel Thomas's eyes slowly turning to him; that's why he made sure to look away, avoiding eye contact at every cost. Jimmy could handle Thomas giving him an angry look, but he knew it wouldn't be that. He would look at him exactly in a way that Jimmy hated the most – with sadness, akin to disappointment.
"Oh, I think I could manage."
This was the only emotionless reply Jimmy received before the dark-haired man made his way past him and moved along, headed towards other attractions at the fair.
Ivy and Daisy followed, their hearts set on finding some games, and Edna held Mr Branson's arm as they strolled along to see what interesting-looking stands they could find.
"Well," Jimmy shrugged as everyone but Alfred went about their business. "Let's go sign us up then."
Alfred nodded and the two stepped over to the stand across from them where they were signing up participants for the rope pulling contest.
"Right lads," the chubby man taking applications announced after they'd filled in the form. "Your team's up in half an hour."
Alfred turned to Jimmy. "Right, well I'm off to give the spices a look in the meantime," he said. "You comin'?"
Jimmy gave him a look of disinterest. "Huh, not really interesting that, is it?"
"Suit yourself," the tall man shrugged rather indifferently, and he was off.
As he was walking around, Jimmy found himself immersed in the sounds of the crowd. People chatting, laughing, cheering. Children running around, chasing each other playfully. The sound of the barrel organ a man played somewhere in the distance. Some acrobats with painted faces dancing and juggling skittles, around them a crowd applauding their performance.
The fair was a sight for sore eyes after long days at Downton; entertaining and exciting, full of people and experiences that called his name. Jimmy's mind was set on enjoying the day, basking in the sun, winning some money or a prize or two perhaps–
Isn't it a bit rough for Mr Barrow? – Oh, I think I could manage.
The thought intruded Jimmy's mind like a blunt blow.
Damn it, why are you thinking about it?! He scolded himself. You did nothing wrong, he did, that night when he- It was only a tease, and he deserved it, he proceeded to convince himself angrily and desperately struggled to chase the thought away. Why should you feel guilty about saying it? Why are you even thinking about him!?
It had been like this for a while; these intrusive thoughts about Thomas were not new to Jimmy, but when they started, he didn't register that it was Thomas making him upset. Whenever Jimmy would get irritable for seemingly no reason, he would think that he was just having a bad day or that he was snappy because he was stressed and had overworked himself. He only recognized anger and irritability; the consequences, not the cause of his feelings. Yet no matter how hard Jimmy tried to deny it, he could no longer avoid the cause.
Jimmy did feel guilty about what he had said to Thomas earlier today at the fair. He wanted to take back the words the very same second he uttered them. It was uncalled for, and he didn't know why that was his immediate impulse. But then again, he tended to speak before he would properly think things through anyway, so he blamed it on that.
Ever since that unfortunate incident, Jimmy's instinctive reaction was to be mean to Thomas, to deflect his attempts of kindness with scorn. As if he needed to put up a wall, because for some reason he felt in danger of being scrutinized whenever Thomas was around. Jimmy was aware of what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself because whenever he spoke to Thomas – in private or surrounded by others – he felt as if there was a threat. As if a part of him could become exposed – which was ridiculous because there was nothing to expose. There was no threat but still, Jimmy felt like he had to work extra hard to distance himself from that man. To make it absolutely clear that he was not the same as he was, that there was nothing–
His mind felt like it would burst. He had to stop thinking about it, he had to focus on the game that would soon start – but first, he needed to calm his nerves. I could go for a pint, he thought to himself, already scanning the surroundings for a stand that could provide the much needed beverage.
"Care to have your fortunes read, dear?" a voice behind him spoke.
He turned around to notice a short woman with long, dark brown, frizzy hair standing before him. She had olive skin and large round eyes that had to be the most remarkable feature of her face. She was far from old, but he concluded that she had to be at least a couple of years his senior.
"Um," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think so, but thanks…"
His feet had already moved to carry him away, but the woman's hand, wearing an assortment of colourful beaded bracelets, reached for his wrist.
"Oh, do come," she insisted politely, without being discouraged by his response. She squeezed his wrist gently. "I sense a storm in ya. Your future begs you to listen," she continued in a strong Irish accent.
But then her face suddenly became pensive – as if she were falling in some sort of a trance – yet only for a split second.
Jimmy thought little such matters – fortunes, spirits and crystal balls – and he was getting rather uncomfortable. He yanked his hand away.
"I don't have time for th- "
"The night from twelve moons ago still remains with you, does it not?"
Jimmy remained riveted in his place. He stared at the woman, dumbfounded, baffled by her strange words, which made even more of an impact as they were delivered in an ominous tone and accompanied by her hazel-eyed gaze that relentlessly tried to establish eye contact. Jimmy felt very uneasy, and despite the warm midday sun that was shining on him he felt cold shivers run down his spine.
The night from twelve moons ago… Her words echoed in his mind. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't intrigued after this, but still – a gypsy fortune teller? He scoffed at the idea. It was ridiculous to think that she could actually know anything about him- though admittedly, it was very odd- but he had to be on his way- but what was she talking about? He was torn between leaving right this instance and staying to learn more or to at least make sense of her words.
He stood there, still staring at her, she staring back, her expression blank and impossible to discern. She looked as if she were attempting to read his own expression and to read what he was thinking, what he would do.
When she'd concluded that he was interested in what she apparently had to tell him, she slowly turned around and gestured him to follow.
Jimmy remained still for another second, but then walked after her.
Well, that's dandy, he laughed at himself. If anyone from Downton saw me now… He looked around nervously, hoping that no one he knew was watching – no doubt that would bring all sorts of mockery upon him! It wasn't how he'd imagine his day at the fair to go, but he concluded that it'll probably only take a few minutes with the woman and then he'll be off, devoting his time to more interesting matters. Maybe I can at least ask her if we'll win at the game later…
He followed the woman to a small, rather plain-looking red tent at the sidelines, slightly away from the other ones. The curtain over the entrance was pulled back just enough so that he could see a dim amber light inside, illuminating the darkness.
He entered and was instantly struck by the strong smell of incense. Everything that made the tent look rather humdrum on the outside was made up for by the interior. It was still rather dark, but bright enough that he could see a colourful abundance of silks and different fabrics hanging around, in red, orange and lilac shades, embroidered with various patterns and decorated with tassels. There was a small round table in the middle, on it a thick red table cloth and a single large candle that was casting a light on the place.
Jimmy approached the woman who'd already sat down by the table on a chair opposite the one clearly meant for Jimmy.
"How much?" he asked in a tone of indifference.
She looked at him and smiled in an amicable manner.
"That's alright," she replied. "Future is free – only lies have a price."
He furrowed his brow. He didn't understand – but it didn't matter. If it was free, all the better.
She nodded for him to take a seat across from her. He stepped closer hesitantly and sat down, the incense already making him dizzy.
He couldn't help but take another look around the small space he'd found himself in. He'd heard stories about gypsy travellers before; he'd even seen a group of them once when he was a boy. He remembered their colourful outfits, wagons and tents, and above all their music, so exotic-sounding to his ear. He'd snuck out one night to the plain by the forest where they'd set up their camp. He'd watch them dance and sing by the fire. There was something about their free spirit that intrigued him, a sense of adventure-
"I'll need a personal object," the woman's cordial voice announced and brought Jimmy back from being immersed in nostalgic memories.
"Anything will do, so long as it belongs to you and has some meaning."
"A personal object?" Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you just touch my hand earlier and… saw something?"
She nodded once. "I did."
"Well, can't you just do that again?"
"I can only see bits of your soul that way," she proceeded to explain, her eyes glistening like embers in the dim light. "The mind obstructs much, but the things we carry close to our hearts – they capture fragments of our souls; unmarred and clear."
Jimmy pondered for a moment, deciding whether he was satisfied with her answer. Then he slowly reached inside his pockets, unsure if he even had a "personal object" on him that the gypsy could use.
He remembered it the very moment he felt it under his fingers; his father's pocket watch. He fished out the little silver thing, dangling on its thin chain. The mechanism was broken, but the watch was still in decent shape. He always carried it around, when he wasn't working of course. He liked to keep it close. Jimmy inherited it from his father after the man had been killed in the war. It was real silver, likely worth a decent sum. In fact, it was probably the most valuable object that he owned.
The woman observed the watch and gave him a little nod, tapping on the table. "Put it here."
He hesitated, looking at the watch once again and then carefully placing it in the middle between them.
The gypsy reached out with one hand and wrapped her long thin fingers around it, Jimmy distrustfully observing her three shiny rings as she did.
The woman closed her eyes, as if trying to focus on the object under her palms.
There was a pause. A rather uncomfortable silence, at least for Jimmy. His eyes wandered from her face to her hands, to the candle, then all around the tent and back to her.
"So, do I-" Jimmy began to ask, but she interrupted him as he spoke.
"You seek love above all," she began slowly and melodically, lost in her own world it seemed. "But love has already found you." Her voice sounded hopeful.
Seems a pretty basic statement, Jimmy disregarded the words that were uttered. Who isn't looking for love?
"But the time ticks away," the woman continued, more ominously now.
Jimmy would be amused at her performance if the words didn't unsettle him somewhat. He shifted in his chair and straightened himself.
The gypsy's fingers wrapped themselves around the watch tighter. After another, shorter moment of silence she spoke again in a voice that rang in its deep and solemn tone.
"Blood of love will lift the veil, and when your dozen moons have passed, you'll be ready to step through the looking glass."
She went on, her eyes moving vigorously under her eyelids as if she were asleep.
"You'll be given back the time, and when you cross to the unknown, you'll find your soul more there, than it was ever here before."
Jimmy found himself sink into the moment, sink into her poetically recited words; as easily as one drifts into dreams. And just before you fall asleep, there's that kick, that feeling that you're falling, that rouses you. The same thing happened to him: before he could dive completely into her words, he found himself awake and in need of answers.
"'Scuse me?" he asked, as baffled as ever, not entirely sure if she could even hear him in her current state.
The woman's eyes flew open dramatically, two deep hazel wells that seemed to be staring right into his very being.
"Your mind is putting up a fight, but your heart is yearning since that night."
Jimmy darted up from his chair at those words, his eyes wide, chest heaving and nostrils flaring – all in a sudden burst of emotions that appeared a mixture of anger, fear and bewilderment.
His immediate reaction apparently brought the woman back to a normal state. Her fingers relaxed their grip on the little silver watch and her hands dropped down by her sides. Her eyes focused back on Jimmy, and her expression was plain, with a slight upward twitch of the muscles in the corners of her mouth, as if she were pleased with her prophecy – Jimmy certainly wasn't. She blinked a couple of times, her eyes still large and mysterious looking, but normal, compared to the mere seconds before when they seemed absolutely alien.
Jimmy stared at her for another moment, looking at her fiercely as if she just told him that she had murdered someone he loved or something similar. He turned around without saying a word and paced away, forgetting completely about his pocket watch.
He burst out of the tent, throwing open the crimson curtain in a furious motion. The sun almost blinded him after the long minutes he'd spent in that poorly lit place, but he didn't let that for one second impede his determination to leave.
His mind was foggy. He saw nothing and no one as he marched away, not really caring where – just away. His steps were long and angry, his fists clutched at his sides, lips tight and his jaw clenched in a defying way, like that of a child who had just been scolded.
This was the strangest experience he'd ever had. His mind was stretching to its limits at an attempt to decipher and make sense of the gypsy's words.
It was all a scheme! A set up scheme! Must've been! There's no other explanation! People don't just fall in a trance like that, say words like that!
His rational side was looking for logical answers. He could find none, so instead he opted for convincing himself that what he'd just experienced was a sham.
But she didn't even take any money, what use was it to tell me a bunch of lies? What did she gain from that? He'd forgotten that she was in fact left with his watch, be that her plan all along or a coincidence.
Your heart is yearning since that night… This was the part that made him restless. He felt exposed; as if some hidden depth of his had been lurking in those words and was now bared. But truthfully, if anything had been bared, it had been to no one but to Jimmy. Couldn't he have just pretended that it didn't matter, that the woman was wrong? I could've just laughed, I should have just laughed at her, tell her she was babblin' nonsense!
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Why was he so upset about it?! He wanted to scream; to scream his lungs out, let everybody hear it! It was as if his fears were boiling right underneath the surface and he had to make sure they never saw the light of day – but at the same time, he knew that keeping them at bay would never kill them; it would only kill him overtime.
Your mind is putting up a fight, but your heart is yearning since that night. The woman's words were pressed into his mind with a branding iron – and they burned just the same. The defiant fire overtook him once again.
I'm not yearning for anything! Especially from that night! This is stupid! Jimmy had an interpretation, a specific night in mind, but this damn right wouldn't be it! Twelve moons ago… so that's a year then… did that happen a year- ugh, to hell with all this, he grunted, fairly sure that he actually made an audible sound of disapproval.
Why was his mind set on twisting everything to fit that moment?! It could have been anything! So many things happened a year ago! And the rest of it was stupid too: Blood of love, the looking glass, my soul… my soul's right here is where it is-
"Ouch!" he let out a small groan as he bumped into someone.
"Careful."
Jimmy looked up and gawked in surprise. "Thomas? What are you doing here?"
Thomas replied in his signature sarcastic but not ill-meaning tone that sounded more like a question that a statement: "Looking for you?"
Right! Idiot, of course they're looking for me!
"The question is what are you doing?" Thomas went on. "You were the one who suggested that we sign up for the game, and then you disappear right before it's about to start."
"Well yeah, I was just on my way now, wasn't I?"
Jimmy was still annoyed at the gypsy woman's words, and though he didn't have the intention of telling anyone what had happened, he also didn't bother to conceal his emotions which were very evident through his surly tone of voice.
Thomas stared at him for a moment, cautiously trying to read him. Jimmy knew what he was about to ask, and he didn't have either the time or the will to talk about it.
"Well, come on, let's go then," he urged Thomas and shot him a look of assertiveness.
Thomas said nothing and they hurried towards a crowd of people gathered around the two teams of men who were waiting to start the tug of war.
Just forget those stupid rhymes and focus on the bloody game now, Jimmy kept repeating to himself as he and the black-haired man made their way through the crowd.
Alfred noticed them first and approached Jimmy, an expression if disapproval across his face.
"Where've you been?" he began to ask, but Jimmy quickly cut him off.
"Not now, let's just do this!"