The snow in York was coming down in thick clumps of snowflakes as Richard left Mrs Potter's house, next door to his parents home, after calling Thomas. He stood there outside her front gate for a bit, just listening. Snow is odd. It is essentially water but it falls to the ground with hardly any sound at all. Nothing, just silence. The only sound came from the occasional clump of snow falling off a leaf when the snow became too heavy to hold, or the squeals of delight far up the other end of the street as children played out in the road. Richard looked up into the cloud covered sky above him. It was dark now, but the white of the snow falling made it look grey instead. He walked back to his parents house next door, the snow crunching under his feet. He would normally not mind this rare kind of weather, it brought an almost childlike joy out in him usually. He thought back to when he and Thomas spent a few hours out in the snow when he visited Downton a couple of years ago. It was just after they had lost contact for a few months as a result of a blackmailer in Buckingham Palace. He had brought his ice skates with him on that visit, and had taken Thomas skating on a frozen pond in the Downton grounds. Thomas hadn't really skated before and he would never claim to be that good himself, but it was the best time he had skating in a long time, feeling Thomas pressed up close to him after so much time apart. Richard put his hands in his pockets as he stood in his parents front garden, miles away in his thoughts. He could have taken Thomas ice skating again, he thought. This situation he had found himself in today was cruel though as the snow and the cold were essential for ice skating and winter walks in the snow. However, it was snow that was keeping him from being able to do those two things. By the time the snow had cleared enough for him to return to Thomas, any hopes of ice skating would also have vanished. "Richard, come inside, you'll freeze out there," Richard's mother said, calling from the front door.
Richard jumped out of his thoughts, "Sorry, coming mum," he said, following her inside.
...
Chris steadied himself against the wall in the hallway of the cottage he rented, saving himself from falling over as a cat ran in through the open front door. The creature seemed oblivious to the fact that it almost caused an accident, and began rubbing itself affectionately around the bottom of Chris's legs. He had been asked by his landlady to feed her three cats while she was away visiting her sister over Christmas. He didn't mind as it wasn't much to ask. He had been glad to find somewhere to live where he wasn't asked too many questions about why he suddenly moved to Downton or why he wasn't married, the latter being a tricky one to answer without incriminating himself. He had no desire to end up in prison again. He had grown up and lived in a city for most of his life surrounded by people, but after those three years in a small cell with unpleasant company, he wanted to live out of the way of other people. He bent down to stroke the cat that had now started to wash its face with its paw, sitting happily at his feet. That was another reason why he didn't mind looking after her cats. Animals don't ask questions. He expected a lot of questions tonight though. He accepted the invitation from Thomas to eat with his lot up at the Abbey, not just because he enjoyed Thomas's company, but because he agreed with Thomas's reasoning in the note that he had sent to him just before he left the shop: 'It will give you a chance to get any introductions out of the way before Christmas day...'. That was true, so he had told the boy, Albert he thinks he was called, who delivered the note, to tell Thomas that he accepts.
...
"Richie are you feeling alright? You haven't eaten much of your casserole," Marion asked from across the table in their dining room an hour later.
"Probably saddened that he has to spend Christmas with us old folk," John, Richard's father, joked before Richard could reply.
"No I'm fine mum," Richard said. "It's not that I don't want to be here, it's just-" Richard didn't know how to answer that sentence without lying even more.
"You wish you had someone else for company too," Marion said, finishing her son's sentence.
"I had plans for this Christmas. It was going so well, even going to plan, and I had to go and ruin it by getting myself stuck on the wrong side of Yorkshire," Richard said sadly. "It was going to be our first Christmas together. Even after four years, we never managed to get one Christmas you see."
"It's not your fault, no one can control the weather son," John said.
"I'm sure Thomas will understand that," Marion said.
"I know he will, he does, but I don't want him to have too," Richard said, feeling frustrated. He took a few more mouthfuls of his tea. "Do you mind if I have this later mum? It's not that I don't want it, I just think I might feel more like it later."
"We can reheat it love," Marion said kindly. "Come back to it in an hour or two?"
"Yeah, thanks mum," Richard said as he got up and left the room.
Marion listened as Richard went upstairs to the spare room that used to be his room. "Do you think there is any chance that the trains might run tomorrow?" she asked her husband.
"Maybe if the snow stops and they can clear the track, but that will take a while," John answered.
"He's so disappointed though. I just wish he had brought Thomas with him to York today," she said sadly.
...
Chris walked across the lawns at Downton a few hours later. It was completely dark, the only light coming from the windows of Downton Abbey, which stood out like a ship in a dark ocean. He had decided not to walk up the lanes and paths to Downton, or at least he tried to avoid them as much as he could. He was at much less of a risk of slipping on any black ice or compacted snow if he went through the woods, he knew the way by now. The dark didn't bother him that much but nevertheless he felt welcomed by seeing Downton's lights. He went around the side, to the servants entrance and knocked on the back door, hoping that whoever answered would be someone he recognised, and who recognised him. A woman opened the door, "Mr Webster, glad you decided to come, Mr Barrow told me that we would be expecting you." She stepped back, allowing him inside. "Sorry I should have introduced myself. I'm Phyllis Baxter," She said.
"Pleased to meet you," Chris said politely. "Mr Barrow has spoken highly of you. You are a good friend to him from what I have heard."
Phyllis smiled at the compliment, she was glad that Thomas valued her friendship. "Mr Barrow should be around somewhere. You will have to forgive us, you've arrived in the chaotic moment at the end of upstairs dinner and the beginning of ours."
"Don't worry about it, I can sit down somewhere out of your way," Chris said. "I'm sure things are running a lot smoother than you think, especially under Mr Barrow's watch."
"I sure hope that they are," came Thomas's voice from down the other end of the hallway. "Chris, good to see you again," Thomas said, approaching them both and shaking him by the hand. "I'll put your coat in my office if you like?"
"That will be fine thanks," Chris said. Black suited Thomas well, the tie and waistcoat befitting a butler, looked good on him.
A bell rang on the board in the servants hall. "Excuse me Mr Barrow, Mr Webster, that will probably be her Ladyship," Phyllis said.
"Of course, you go Miss Baxter. You didn't see Stephen out there did you?" Thomas asked Chris after she had left them both.
"No, is he okay?" Chris asked, thinking back to the situation earlier that morning.
"Oh he's fine, although he may not be unless he shows himself soon as I need the tables upstairs clearing, which was his job last time I checked," Thomas said. Just at that moment, Stephen came inside carrying a bundle of logs for the fire.
"Hello Mr Webster, didn't expect you here," Stephen said.
"Joining you lot for tea, at Th- Mr Barrow's invitation," Chris said.
"Stephen, what are you doing with those?" Thomas asked.
"Fire in the servants hall is running low, thought I'd fetch these for it," Stephen said.
"That's good of you Stephen and at any other time would be appreciated, but you should be upstairs clearing the table, not doing the duties of a hall boy," Thomas said sternly. "Give those to Albert to sort out and brush down your livery before you are seen upstairs, you have splinters of wood all over it."
"Yes Mr Barrow, sorry," Stephen said.
"As I expected, you run this place like clockwork Thomas," Chris said. "It suits you, being in charge."
"Being in charge or giving orders?" Thomas said smiling.
"Both," Chris said.
"Can I do nothing wrong in your eyes?" Thomas asked.
"I don't think you can Thomas," Chris said as he followed Thomas to his office, "However hard I try," he said quietly to himself.
...
"Well it's certainly bigger than mine," Chris said, sitting down in the chair facing the desk as Thomas poured him a drink. "This room I mean. Suppose the office or cupboard in the shop is Richard's as well."
"You use it the most though," Thomas said, passing Chris a glass.
"Do you have time for this? Sitting here with me," Chris asked.
"Oh they can manage without me for a few minutes, this is what we do everyday, though Christmas always makes things busier for some reason," Thomas said.
"Must be nice to have this room to yourself, I imagine you need to escape every so often. Provides a more private setting for any late night phone calls too I imagine," Chris said.
"Yeah, one of the perks of the job I suppose. Mrs Hughes would probably say the same," Thomas said. "It did help when phone calls to Richard were all we had."
Thomas looked a bit sad all of a sudden, looking at the telephone on his desk. "I'm sorry that Richard couldn't be here tonight. I did wonder when it started to snow, but I didn't think it would get this bad," Chris said.
"Yeah me too," Thomas said. "Would have been our first Christmas together you know. It's pathetic really when I say that. Over four years we've had but never one actual Christmas day."
"It's not pathetic at all. It's not easy to have anything for us lot," Chris said. "Still I hope I can be a good substitute for company this evening."
"You're not a substitute Chris," Thomas said.
"Yeah I know. I can never compete with Richard. He will win every time," Chris said dryly, draining his glass.
"I don't mean it like that," Thomas said quickly. "I mean, I like having you around, you're not just here because you are the second best option."
"Right," Chris said.
"Aside from Richard, and I suppose Stephen now, you are the only person around here that can truly understand me. We share a bond over that surely?"
"We do Thomas. And I hope a bit more besides just that," Chris said. There was a knock on the door, indicating that they should be eating soon.
"We should go," Thomas said, as they both stood up. Before Chris opened the door though, Thomas stopped him. "I just want to say one thing."
"Go on," Chris said.
"I know you still carry a torch for me," Thomas said.
"Thomas I-"
"No, it's fine. I just want you to know that although we don't have the relationship that you desire, I do care about you. Just in a different way to how I care for Richard, if that makes sense," Thomas said.
"Yeah I get you," Chris said. Chris opened the door before any more could be said on the subject or before he could say anything that he may come to regret.
They walked into the servants hall, the table had been laid. "No that's not right," Thomas said.
"What is it Mr Barrow?" Charlotte said.
"We need to make room for another chair to my right," Thomas said.
"But I thought Mr Ellis couldn't make it?" Charlotte said.
"He can't but Mr Webster can. Can you set another place there for him?" Thomas asked.
"Of course Mr Barrow," Charlotte said.
"Albert, fetch another chair would you?" Thomas asked the hall boy.
"Yes Mr Barrow," Albert answered.
"Admit it Thomas, you like bossing people around," Chris said.
"He does," Daisy said coming into the room with some plates, before Thomas had a chance to answer. Thomas and Chris both exchanged a smile.
...
A bit later on and the staff's evening meal was well under way, a few different subjects of conversation were going on at different ends of the table, and there was a lot of chat about Christmas related festivities. Chris was sat to the side of Thomas, who was at the head of the table, opposite Mrs Hughes and next to Miss Baxter, who was opposite Mr Carson, who had decided to turn up this evening of all evenings. Thomas expected him to be there on Christmas day of course, but he was not the happiest to see him today when he had invited Chris. Thomas had an odd relationship with Mr Carson. There was a level of respect between the two of them, but Thomas always felt like he wasn't quite good enough to be butler in Mr Carson's eyes. He always felt like he was living up to expectations rather than perusing them on his own terms when he was present. There was also an unsettling feeling of being judged too. When Richard had been at Downton the same times as Mr Carson had, he felt the disapproval and suspicion radiating off him, and he was beginning to get the same feeling with Chris sitting next to him too now. Thomas didn't fear his disapproval as they had been down that road before, but it irritated him that he felt like he was still an object of suspicion. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He wondered if Chris felt it too. "So how are you finding Downton Mr Webster?" Mrs Hughes asked, to make conversation at their end of the table. "You've been here for a few months I understand."
"I am very happy here thank you Mrs Hughes," Chris began, whilst bracing himself for a wave of questions. "It is a bit of a change to what I had been used to back in York but I enjoy my work. Mr Ellis is a good person, and a decent employer." Chris noticed the little smile flicker across Thomas's face when he complimented Richard.
"Ah yes, you work in the book shop in the village. Was that hard to adjust too?" Mrs Hughes continued.
"Not really. I held a similar position in a different shop in York for a while before unfortunate circumstances meant I had to leave that position behind me," Chris said. Thomas was hoping he could jump in and change the subject before Chris was forced to think of a way of explaining why he left that job, without having to explain the real reason for his change in circumstances, but before he had the chance, Mr Carson jumped in on the line of questioning.
"What 'unfortunate circumstances' would they be Mr Webster? It must have been a rather pressing matter to have you change city life for country living," Mr Carson said. Thomas glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice.
Mrs Hughes did though. "Mr Carson, it may not be any of our business," she said to her husband. Miss Baxter was looking concerned though she was trying not to show it, instead focusing heavily on the plate in front of her. Aside from Thomas and Chris, she was the only person at the table who knew the real story, as Thomas had confided in her a few months ago.
"It's alright Mrs Hughes. Only natural to be curious. The business ran into financial difficulties Mr Carson, my employer had invested money overseas and when the depression hit in 1929, he was forced to sell up," Chris said. It was a complete lie of course, but what followed was less so and more a twisting of the facts. "I found myself in some desperate circumstances and I ended up living in a part of York that did not contain much in the way of pleasant surroundings or good company. If I am honest Mr Carson I found myself living in a neighborhood made up of criminals, although there were a few innocents hidden amongst them." Credit where credit's due, Thomas thought as he listened to Chris's cryptic tale. He understood the clues of course, as did Miss Baxter who caught his eye very briefly while Chris was explaining, but to anyone else it would be assumed that he ended up living in one of York's poorer neighbourhoods.
Mrs Hughes seemed to have fallen for it too. "Many others like you would have been victim to financial ruin in that year Mr Webster, I'm sorry you had such bad luck," she said. "What brought you to Downton if I may ask?"
"Well I was stuck in that part of York for a while but as soon as I could I got out and after a while of figuring out what I wanted, I decided to visit a friend of mine, Mr Barrow," he explained smiling at Thomas.
"Oh so you knew Mr Barrow before you lost your job?" Mr Carson asked.
"Yes, we met in a pub in York once," Chris said with confidence. Thomas glanced at him hoping to tell him silently to be careful how you proceed with this. But Chris just smiled back briefly as if to say: 'It's okay Thomas I've got this.' "We got chatting, good ale can make me talk a bit more than I should have and I think I kept Mr Barrow from leaving, but he talked about how he worked here so I thought I'd pay him, and Downton, a visit. He sang the praises of everyone here so I thought why not? What have I got to lose?"
Thomas caught on to Chris's 'edited' version of events. "Mr Webster said he was looking for work and I introduced him to Mr Ellis, who eventually offered him a job, and therefore a reason to stay," Thomas said. Of course it was a lot more complicated than that, but it's pretty much true, he thought.
"Seems you got good fortune back after all Mr Webster," Miss Baxter said, though there was a lot more meaning in that than the others could possibly understand.
"That I did," Chris said, Thomas and him exchanged a smile again. "I'm lucky to call Mr Barrow a good friend."
There was a pause in the conversation then, each of them finishing their plates of food. Thomas hoped that would be the last of the questioning that Chris had handled very well. However several minutes later Mr Carson spoke again. "So is it just you then Mr Webster or are you married?"
Crap crap crap, Thomas thought as he held his breath. Why couldn't he keep his questions to himself? Chris took a while finishing his mouthful, playing for time. Of all questions he had to ask that one. "I am not Mr Carson. I have found over the years that I am best suited to my own company and that I wouldn't make a pleasant catch. Not when I didn't have much to my name."
"Things are better for you now though?" Mrs Hughes said. Shut up! Thomas said silently to Mrs Hughes whilst catching Miss Baxter's eye, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Come on Thomas you useless fool, say something! Thomas thought as he tried to will himself to say anything to get them to talk about anything else.
"They are yes, but I am happy as I am, that's all I can say really. I don't want to push my luck," Chris said. At that moment Mrs Patmore announced that dessert would be ready soon and that since some of the guests upstairs couldn't make it due to the weather, they would be eating a sherry and raspberry flan with custard as otherwise it would go to waste. This got a joyful reaction from the table and Thomas was ready to kiss Mrs Patmore for her absolutely perfect timing of that announcement, as it provided the perfect distraction from the horror that was unfolding at his end of the table. "Since we have to wait for the custard to cook, do you mind if I'm excused for a moment?" Chris asked.
"Not at all. You're the guest here," Mrs Hughes said. Chris got up and exited the servants hall. Thomas heard the back door shut.
"I'll be back in a few minutes Mrs Hughes," Thomas said, also getting up from the table before heading in the same direction Chris had gone in.
...
Thomas found Chris lighting up a cigarette whilst leaning against the same wall where he himself used to spend many moments when he used to smoke more than he does now. Chris turned his head towards him when he heard Thomas close the door behind him. "You know that is my smoking spot?" Thomas said as he walked over, careful not to step on the frozen puddles in the yard.
"Want one?" Chris said, offering Thomas a cigarette.
"No, thanks. Been trying to have less of those," Thomas said, though he stood next to Chris about half an arms length away, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets in an attempt to hide them from the bitter evening air. "Sorry you had to endure being asked that question."
"I should have seen it coming really," Chris said breathing out the smoke. "I'm sure you've had to answer it too at some point right?"
"I have, at a job interview," Thomas said. "No surprise that I didn't get that job."
"It's their loss Thomas," Chris said. "Wish people can keep their noses out of our business though. I don't mind answering questions about where I came from or why I'm here, as that's only to be expected, but not more than that really."
"If I'd known Carson chose this evening to visit then I would have invited you some other time. I would have tried to spare you from that," Thomas said. "The rest of them would have known better than to have asked that question. I hope you don't regret accepting my invitation?"
"No of course not! It's been a good evening, I'm glad I came," Chris said.
"Despite practically being on trial?" Thomas asked.
"I've been on trial and trust me these questions tonight are a lot kinder than the ones I was asked," Chris said, a note of bitterness filling his voice.
"Sorry, poor choice of words," Thomas said.
"Don't worry about it," Chris said.
"Still, you fooled them though. I say I was rather impressed by how you told them about what happened to you before you came here. Almost would have believed it myself," Thomas said.
"The best lies are told within a truth Thomas," Chris said.
They were both silent for a while, but still feeling comfortable in each other's company. Thomas looked up at the sky. It was still an odd kind of grey colour, and snow was still falling, but it was lighter than before. Chris watched him and seemed to read his mind. "He could still be back by Christmas Thomas."
"A lot more snow could fall by then though," Thomas said.
"Yes. But it could stop soon as well. You and him still have tomorrow and maybe Christmas morning at a pinch for things to clear enough for him to get back to you," Chris said. "Richard comes across as a determined fellow to me. I wouldn't be surprised if he has found some snow boots and is preparing to walk here if necessary!" Chris hoped that would cheer Thomas up a bit, and it was a little victory to him to see Thomas smile and chuckle a little at that.
"He would. Although I would tell him not to be so stupid," Thomas said.
The back door opened suddenly, spoiling their little moment. "Mrs Hughes told me to fetch you too," Stephen said. "Custard is ready."
"Thank you Stephen," Thomas said.
"We should go in," Chris said. "I love your company Thomas but it's bloody freezing out here."
...
Marion couldn't stop herself from yawning as she went upstairs later on that same evening. It was late and she and John would be heading to bed, but she wanted to check on her son first. Richard did come down later for tea and his hunger must have gotten the better of him as he finished everything and the crumble for dessert, he always did have a good appetite as a boy and as a man he hasn't lost that. He was where she expected him to be. He was sitting in a small armchair that sat parallel to the window in his old room, and now her and John's spare room. He hadn't heard her come upstairs, he had one elbow resting on the windowsill, his hand supporting his chin as he gazed out at the night sky. The clouds had cleared making way for a cool winter's night sky. Richard knew most of the main constellations, he had shown an interest in spotting them when he was younger. She knew a lot of them herself. Once you could spot the patterns in the sky and learn their names, you couldn't unsee them. In his other hand was a glass that was half empty of his father's favourite whisky. He turned as he heard her come into the room. He had left the light off as to best see the sky so the only light came from downstairs and outside. "I should be able to find you some pajamas Richie, and a few spare clothes if you like. You didn't actually take everything with you when you stayed here back in September."
"I don't have anything with me do I? Forgot about all those things," Richard said miserably.
"You can't plan for every eventuality," she said. She sat down on the bed. "Can I put the lamp on?"
"Yeah, the window is facing the wrong way for my favourite ones anyway," Richard said. The first constellation he ever found was Orion the hunter. It was always so bright and majestic, hanging there at an angle in the east in the evening at this time of year.
"We will try and get you home tomorrow or even Christmas day itself. They do run a few trains, even if you beg a lift from a goods train," she suggested.
"I don't like to disappoint him," Richard said. "I had a plan to make this year's Christmas special."
"You can't fix the whole world Richard. Some things are out of our control."
"I got him something though," Richard said. "Wondering now if maybe it was too much."
"You haven't told us what you got him. Can I see it?"
Richard reached inside his jacket pocket and took out a box and handed it to his mum. Marion opened it carefully, "Oh my!" she gasped as she looked at the item inside.
"You do think it is too much don't you?" Richard said.
"No! It's just- Well I was not expecting that," she smiled. "Must have cost a lot though?"
"Not something I could have easily afforded on my old wages, but I was able to give myself a bit of a bonus for Christmas," Richard said. "You think Thomas will like it?"
"You know this will mean the world to him, and to you I reckon. Though you should tell him to be careful with it," Marion said. Richard didn't have to ask what she meant. "I will pray very hard tonight that God grants you a window of fine weather to get you back to him for Christmas."
"Thank you mum," Richard said, feeling a bit better about himself and his gift for Thomas.
"I'll fetch those pajamas alright? I think they are in your father's wardrobe," she said getting up. "Then I'll say goodnight."
"Thank you, night mum," Richard said. He had to find a way to get back to Downton, even if the train was not an option. Thomas had said he had a determined nature and he intended to live up to that expectation.