The sky was overcast with light grey cloud on Christmas morning as Thomas walked with the majority of the other staff down from Downton to the church in the village for the Christmas morning service, the snow still covering every surface in a white layer. He was walking at the back alongside Miss Baxter and Mr Moseley, who despite living in the village, had come up to Downton only to walk back down again to church. He wanted to walk there with Miss Baxter, it didn't take a genius to figure out the reason for his detour. "Cheer up Mr Barrow, can't be all that bad," Mr Moseley said. "It's Christmas day, no one is miserable on Christmas day."
"Oh aren't they? Thank you for informing me," Thomas said sarcastically. His mood must have been easy to read, or perhaps they just felt the pain coming off him. Mr Moseley didn't say anything more on the subject of his mood. Miss Baxter gave him a sympathetic look, knowing why he was not exactly full of festive cheer. Going to church was not a favourite activity of his, and he hated all the ceremony that had to be added in on special occasions like Easter and Christmas, but he had to admit before all their plans had been ruined by the weather, he was looking forward to being able to sit up close to Richard in public for a few hours. That wouldn't be happening now though.
As they walked through the centre of Downton Village towards the church, Thomas tried to ignore his and Richard's home. Thinking about Richard just made him sad at the moment. He had woken that morning on his own again and even though that had been the norm for most of his life, he couldn't get used to it anymore. Every morning he had Richard there with him and he felt cold without him. Despite what a lot other people would say if they knew that they shared a bed every night, it felt natural to him to have Richard there. As they neared the churchyard, there was a large tree with a seat underneath it, and on this seat sat a familiar figure. "Mr Barrow, isn't that Mr Webster?" Miss Baxter said to Thomas as their little group walked along the snow covered road. Chris caught Thomas's eye as Thomas looked in his direction and nodded ever so slightly. He was sitting there looking rather relaxed, slouching slightly, arms folded across his chest, feet crossed at the ankles. He had a smirk on his face that seemed to suggest that he was amused by a group of people all braving the cold just to sit in a cold building for a few hours.
"I'll catch you up in a few minutes Miss Baxter," Thomas said.
"We'll save you a seat," Miss Baxter offered.
"Yes, thanks," Thomas said as he left the party of Downton church goers and walked over to his friend.
"Happy Christmas Thomas," Chris said as Thomas approached.
"I hope you haven't been sitting out in the cold waiting for me just so you can say that?" Thomas asked, sitting down next to him. The seat was free of snow due to the tree above them.
"I confess I did want to say that to you, after the events of yesterday evening, I forgot to in the end," Chris said. "Although, you don't look happy to be here," he added nodding towards the churchyard.
"Well it might have been okay, if things had turned out as we planned," Thomas said sadly.
"Well you don't have to go in now do you?" Chris asked.
"I do. Would set a bad example if I decided to bunk off church on Christmas day. It is expected of me to be there and people would only talk," Thomas explained.
"Well I'm glad I'm not bound by duty to go. Haven't set foot in a church for years. It's not my thing really, especially not since I had some self entitled snob quote the bible at me during my mockery of a trial," Chris said bitterly, looking away from Thomas.
"I understand," Thomas said.
"Well with respect, you can't really understand," Chris sneered, his mood quickly turning sour, though he instantly regretted snapping at Thomas.
"I know, sorry," Thomas said, feeling awkward. "That was the wrong response wasn't it?"
"You were only trying to be kind, sorry. It's a touchy subject, if we want to have the old religion discussion then we will need alcohol and plenty of it. I don't want you to ever really understand, you only would if you experience what I experienced. Though I suppose you understand more than most people," Chris said. He didn't say anything else to add to that and Thomas wondered if he should go, but he didn't want that to be the last thing they talked about until Chris came to Downton that evening for Christmas dinner.
"How's your leg feeling?" Thomas said to change the subject.
"Not too bad actually, a hell of a lot better than it did when you rescued me and that cushion helped at night too," Chris said.
"I'm glad. Though you shouldn't be sitting in the cold, that won't help you," Thomas said.
"You are quite right Thomas, I'm just an idiot half the time."
"Only half the time?"
Chris smiled, which Thomas was glad of. "Funny, Mr Barrow. Very funny."
"I should be going in, Chris," Thomas said, getting up. "You sure you won't want to join me?"
"Perfectly sure thank you. Though I'll be happy to join you and Richard at Downton tonight. I am looking forward to that," Chris said.
"Might just be me. You still think he will turn up don't you?" Thomas asked.
"Yep," Chis answered, stretching his arms out to the side of him. "As I have said, I'd lay a bet on it."
"I hope you are right," Thomas said.
"Course I am!" Chris said with a smile.
"Carson will be there tonight by the way," Thomas said, remembering the horrible conversation last time, "at dinner tonight."
"Oh don't worry about him Thomas, I can handle him," Chris said with his trademark confidence. Thomas seemed to have lifted his mood easily, as he always did, often without trying.
...
Richard arrived at York station just before midday. He had been up early, filled with a small glimmer of hope when he saw the snow beginning to turn to water as it melted a little, just the occasional drip from a tree outside his window, but it was something. It had motivated him to walk to York station early to see if there were any trains running in the direction of Downton. He had spoken to a guard there who had told him that one train will be running at midday from York, though the track had only been partially cleared so it would have to terminate several stops before Downton, from there he would be on his own. He felt a bit bad that he was leaving his parents and therefore abandoning, what would have otherwise have been a traditional Christmas roast dinner, for a sandwich on his own on a train. They understood though, and his mother had given him extra layers of clothing, and some sturdier shoes just in case he had to walk, which he reckoned he would.
He found the same station guard that he had spoken to a few hours earlier, as well as a few times in the past few days. He had spoken to him about trains to Downton so much that when Richard approached him to ask which platform he needed to be on, he just said "platform two Mr Ellis," without Richard even having to ask the question.
"Thank you," Richard said, finding he was standing on the correct platform already. There was hardly anyone else about and for a normally busy train station, it was a bit odd. It was Christmas day though, not many people would be out travelling anyway, even if the weather was okay.
"You'll have a bit of a walk when you get off," the guard said, a metal mug containing steaming hot tea in his hand. "About eight miles I reckon and that's if the train gets as far as it is supposed to go."
"I didn't reckon on an easy journey, so no surprises there," Richard said.
"After three days of you coming to the station and asking me about trains to Downton, I reckon you could feed my curiosity a little and explain what is so important in Downton?" the guard asked. "Though I suppose if it is none of my business then you are also free to tell me so."
Richard thought before replying on how to answer that. "Only natural to be curious I suppose. I recently moved to Downton, and a friend of mine has invited me to Downton Abbey for Christmas dinner in the evening, though I hoped to be back before then."
"Blimey! Wouldn't mind dining on an aristocratic Christmas dinner myself," the guard said.
"Nothing that grand I'm afraid, no my friend is a servant there," Richard explained, deciding to not mention the exact job title of his 'friend'. "I'm eating with the staff there downstairs. Though I can assure you the food will be equally divine."
"Looks like you have a good motivation to get back home then," the guard said. "I'm as eager for this train to arrive as you though, when it departs I can go home. My wife makes a wonderful roast dinner." The man looked at his pocket watch and put his tea down. "Now if you will excuse me Mr Ellis, I'd better go and do my job. Good luck with making it home," he said, pulling out his whistle.
Five minutes later Richard found himself sitting on the train home, in a third class coach that was almost empty apart from him and one other man at the opposite end to him. He had enough time to relax a little, eat something and then change into some better shoes for his walk home. He had borrowed a map from his father, though he had driven the route he intended to take several times, so was confident he knew the way. He also had a torch in case he wasn't able to beat the sunset.
The train arrived at it's planned destination on time, and Richard walked through another quiet station and out onto the road, a quick look at his map confirmed whether he needed to turn left or right. And so, feeling not as capable as Captain Scott, Richard turned left along the icy road that would eventually lead him to Thomas Barrow.
It was about two in the afternoon when he had left behind the town and its houses and pavements and he was now out in the open countryside. He was on a narrow country lane, though the hedges were low enough at this point for him to see out over the fields that would normally be green. It was just a blanket of white, though a few patches of green were just about visible in one or two places near a hedge or underneath a tree, where the temperature was just a little warmer. He was high up at the moment, and somewhere out in the distance was his destination. Looking forward and around at his surroundings though turned out to be hazardous as he didn't see the black ice that one of his feet stepped on. Richard's left foot slipped out from underneath him and he would have ended up falling rather painfully he would imagine, had he not been able to quickly grab a branch that was sticking out of the hedge. Richard laughed a little in relief once he had steadied himself, "Okay, more carefully now," he said to himself. He stopped on a grass verge when he reached the end of the lane and a small junction and checked his map. He recognised the road, but it wouldn't do to end up taking a wrong turn, so he checked just to be safe and to estimate how much further he needed to go. He reckoned he had another seven miles to go until he reached Downton village, then another mile on top of that to get up to Downton Abbey itself. In normal conditions that distance would be easily achieved in two or three hours if he kept up a good speed, but the snow and ice made it particularly difficult to get anywhere quickly. If he kept on the way he was going it would be probably double that time, which would keep Thomas waiting too long. He needed to think of a way to make this journey quicker.
About half a mile or so later, or about half an hour later, and Richard came across a bit of an obstacle. I thought this would be a bit of a problem, he thought as he stood at the top of a very steep slope in the road. No one in any mode of transport would have been stupid enough to try to get down this slope in one piece ever since it was covered in a shiny layer of ice and snow. He looked at both sides of the road. Both steep hedges with little room to walk down either side without stepping on the ice and slipping to the bottom of the hill. Richard thought about seeing if he could find another route but then had an idea. Probably a rather stupid one, but it could work. He looked at the ice in front of him and carefully tested with his foot to see how slippery it was. Almost falling over again gave him his answer- "Very," he said. He sat down in the middle of the road- a foolhardy decision normally, but no one would be coming down here now. He took off his coat, and placed it on the ground in front of him. He'd done sledging before as a child but that involved an actual sledge not his father's old coat. He looked around him, feeling rather self conscious, hoping no one was watching him, as he sat on the coat with his feet out in front of him. "This is stupid," he said as he thought about how this could end very badly. He pushed himself a bit with his gloved hands, he and his coat stuck on the ice a bit and for a moment he thought he would have to abandon his plan. But then he lost the friction and he started to slide forward a bit, slowly at first. "Oh the things I do for you Thomas!," Richard said out loud just before he gained enough speed to see him slide down the slope at considerable speed. Before he had a chance to think about how he was going to stop at the bottom, the ground levelled out and he came to a gradual stop at the bottom of the slope. Now he had time to think, he was very grateful there wasn't a bend in the road or else he would have ended up in a ditch or a hedge. He sat there for a moment leaning back on his hands and laughed. Anyone who might have been watching would have thought he was insane, but he was just glad it had worked. He stood up and picked up his coat giving it a good shake, relieved to find that it was undamaged. This will make for an entertaining tale to tell when I get home, he thought as he continued on his way.
The time was almost four in the afternoon by the time Richard reached another extremely slippery road. The ice seemed to come and go in patches, the sun coming out every so often, aiding its demise. But the melting was not quick enough and Richard took one look at the road ahead of him, void of slopes he could slide down to make his journey quicker and a bit more fun, and thought No way. He did have an idea though. Snow was a lot easier to walk though than ice, especially when it was covering grass, so he wondered if he could walk parallel to the road, but through the fields. He reckoned he had about four miles to go and with the light beginning to fade as sunset drew near, he wanted the quickest route possible. He found a gate into a field and sat on top of it having a look at his map that showed he could walk through about four fields following this road until he reached another road. Once he reached that road, he would just have to see how it goes. He jumped down into the field and checked in his bag for Thomas's Christmas gift. He had tucked it away in an inside pocket and stuffed other things on top of it to stop it from falling out. No way in hell was he going to lose that.
The light was fading even quicker about half an hour later, but Richard was making good progress. Nevertheless, he would still not make it to Downton for a few hours yet. He didn't want to switch on his torch until he absolutely had too, as he had no spare battery and didn't want it to fail when he needed it the most. He was managing well enough at the moment. He heard the bleating of some sheep up ahead of him. Sheep he didn't mind, he was just glad it wasn't a field of cows. The snow was only ankle deep at its worst so far but it was hard to estimate how deep it would be with every step he took and suddenly he stepped forward into an unexpectedly deep mound of snow causing him to lose balance and fall with a thud backwards. The blanket of snow broke his fall well enough, but Richard lay there looking up at the cloudy darkening sky above him, winded for a moment. He moved his fingers and toes and then his arms and legs and was happy to find nothing hurt, though he was so cold by now he couldn't feel his fingers or toes anyway. He closed his eyes and just lay there in a bizarrely peaceful moment until he heard the panting of a dog approaching him. He opened his eyes and looked up at a sheep dog looking quizzically down at him. The dog barked excitedly and Richard heard a man's whistle in the distance. "You're probably thinking that I am an odd looking sheep aren't you?" Richard said gently to the dog. The dog just looked pleased to see him, its tongue hanging out its mouth and it's eyes glowing a bit in the fading light.
"Hector!" Richard heard a man shout as he approached. A torch shone in his and the dog's direction. "Oh there you are, boy. What have you found?"
Richard thought this might be a good time to sit up. He hoped the man, who he assumed was the farmer who owned this land, wouldn't be too angry that he was trespassing. "Good evening sir," he said, aware how ridiculous he must seem right now.
"My! Are you okay? Bit of an odd time of day to be lying around out here isn't it?"
Richard stood up and brushed the snow off him, "It's not a habit of mine I'll freely admit. I'm sorry if I distracted your dog though." He felt a bit embarrassed now.
"Oh don't worry about it, Hector is only young and he's still trying to learn how to decipher the difference between a sheep and a ball of cotton. Though it may not be any of my business but I can't help but wonder why you are out here now? It is almost dark and you'll freeze soon I'd reckon." The man guessed that the stranger before him, who was dressed too smartly for a walk in the country, had tried to drive down the lane and had found himself stuck.
"I think you will find me a fool when I explain," Richard said.
"I might do," the man said, amused.
"I have been travelling from York. Got a train most of the way but had eight or so miles to go where I had no choice but to walk."
"My goodness! You have been busy then!" The man exclaimed. "Where abouts are you headed so urgently then?"
"Downton," Richard said.
"Now that is handy," the man said. "I was about to head back that way myself, if you don't mind a bumpy ride on the back of my tractor then I could give you a lift?"
"I would be very grateful sir," Richard said.
He's very polite this chap, the farmer thought. "Never introduced myself. Name's Matthew Tomlinson."
"Richard Ellis," Richard said, shaking Mr Tomlinson by the hand.
"And of course you've already met Hector," Mr Tomlinson said. Hector looked up when his name was mentioned. "My tractor is just beyond the gate to the next field, you should be able to squeeze on the back." This was certainly not how Richard had expected his journey to go, although nothing in the past three days had turned out how he expected. Perched on the back of the tractor with a rather excitable young sheep dog smiling up at him, Richard couldn't really complain. He would get home in time for some part of Christmas now, maybe even in time for dinner at Downton. "So," Mr Tomlinson shouted over the loud engine of the tractor, "What is so urgent back in Downton? Sweetheart waiting for you I bet?"
"Something like that," Richard said. Mr Tomlinson seemed like a pleasant fellow but Richard couldn't risk giving too much away. Never could be too careful as you couldn't know what people might think or do."And I'm expected for Christmas dinner at Downton. I have a friend who works there who invited me along."
Secretive also, Mr Tomlinson thought. "Well whoever they are, they must be important for you to trek across the countryside. Rather romantic gesture if I may say so."
"He'll probably think I'm an idiot for exhausting myself doing this," Richard said. He looked worryingly towards Mr Tomlinson when he realised he had slipped up by saying 'he'. "My friend I mean," Richard added, hoping to cover his mistake up. Whether Mr Tomlinson didn't notice or didn't care, Richard couldn't tell, but he didn't comment on it either way.
About half an hour later, Richard recognised the roads again as the tractor made light work of any snow covering their path. He could see Downton and the estate and he smiled at how his luck had held up just when he needed it too. "Will you be okay from here Mr Ellis?" Mr Tomlinson asked as the tractor stopped at a fork in the road. "The village is only five minutes walk from here and I imagine you would like to change before dining at Downton Abbey?"
"Yes this will be perfect," Richard said jumping down from the tractor. Turning back to Mr Tomlinson he said, "How much do I owe you?"
"Oh don't think about paying me Mr Ellis, Christmas season of giving and all that. Just make sure that you get to spend some decent time with that man of yours," Mr Tomlinson said with a winkw before driving off. It was only when the tractor had pulled away and was travelling away from him down the lane that Richard realised what Mr Tomlinson had said and that, therefore, he must have heard his slip of the tongue earlier, but not minded. Richard felt something deep within him that he didn't feel that often, a real sense of hope that there are more people who can be an ally towards people like him and Thomas than he knows about.
...
Richard thought about going home to freshen up and change but he didn't want to waste anymore time so he decided to head straight for Downton, aware he was going to turn up not appropriately dressed for dinner. Despite the fact that he will not be looking his best, he was sure that Thomas wouldn't care in the slightest.
Downton felt like home when the grand house came into view, finally. He went straight around the back to the servants entrance and hesitated a bit on the doorstep. It appeared he was nervous, though he wasn't really sure why. He opened the door and was immediately hit by the smell of roast goose. In his desperation to get here, he had forgotten how hungry he was and now he was sure he could eat the whole thing. He heard laughter from the servants hall and the snap of Christmas crackers. He listened in for a moment. "Okay so that was an awful joke, don't know who thought that would be good enough for a cracker." That was Chris's voice, sounding rather jovial.
"Oh please don't say you have another. I'm not sure I could bear it," Richard heard Thomas say.
"I might do. My little brother used to think this one was hilarious," Chris began. "What do you call a deer with no eyes?"
"Don't know," Thomas said.
"Almost. No idea!" Chris said. "You see. No-eye-deer."
"That's not funny," Thomas said.
"Okay well what do you call a deer with no eye and no legs?" Chris said. "Still no idea! You know cause the deer can't move and can't see." Richard smiled, and he reckoned Thomas must have too because of what Chris says next. "See, you did find that funny. You're just too sensible to admit it Thomas."
"Here, have more goose Chris, if you are eating you can't tell me anymore jokes," Thomas said. Richard could hear in Thomas's voice that he wasn't really annoyed.
"Mmm, don't mind if I do," Chris said. Richard decided he would make an appearance now and he slowly walked into the open doorway of the servants hall. Thomas didn't see him at first, but looking at him for the first time in days, Richard just knew right then, that every effort he made today was worth it.
"I hope you'll save some of that for me, I'm starving," Richard said and as he spoke everyone in the room turned to look at him, but he only looked at one of them back.
"Richard?" Thomas said.
Richard grinned. "Hello Thomas."
Note: The farmer Matthew Tomlinson was a real person, not in the 1930's, but in the early 19th century. He was a farmer from West Yorkshire who wrote a diary where he expressed his view that homosexuality is natural and therefore should not be punishable by death, as it was then.
The next chapter will pick up immediately where this one left off. Hope you enjoyed this one.