CHAPTER 6: LITTLE BROTHER

The next morning

The Servants' Bathroom on the Men's Side

Thomas eased himself into the hot bath, leaned back, and closed his eyes. "Do you have everything you need?" asked Bates.

Thomas opened his eyes. "Yes, John."

Bates had been pleased that morning when Thomas displayed steady hands and was able to walk about his room unassisted. But Thomas lacked his normal colour, and Bates remained at-the-ready to catch him should he become lightheaded. He was at Thomas' elbow as they walked to the bathroom and insisted on fixing Thomas' bath. As he did regularly for Lord Grantham, Bates untied Thomas' robe, removed it, and hung it on the hook near the tub. Thomas was relieved when Bates sat on a stool near the door and pulled the day's newspaper from his pocket. He read quietly, allowing Thomas some privacy.

Up until a few days ago, Bates and Thomas had been adversaries. But now … now Thomas was inexplicably drawn to Bates ... his voice ... his dark hair ... his reserved smile ... his brooding nature ... his maleness. When Bates had knocked at the door that morning, Thomas' heart pounded with anticipation.

Thomas told himself it was an infatuation that would pass. During the war when he had been transferred to the hospital, he saw many a soldier fall in love with his nurse. Bates was acting as his nurse now, so what he was feeling was normal. Nothing had changed. As soon as he could return to work, his thoughts would be occupied with more important things than Bates. And Bates would be … merely Bates again.

But Thomas' body was being contrary. It had chosen, quite independently from Thomas' will, to become aroused. Now what was he to do? Thomas peeked over the edge of the tub at Bates, but Bates was absorbed in his paper. Still, Bates was in the room, and Thomas had no intention of being humiliated in front of him. As he washed himself, he forced himself to concentrate on other things. The new BBC long wave radio transmitter in Daventry ... the price of a wireless ... perhaps buying a wireless for himself ... listening to the Savoy Orpheans on his own wireless ... Charleston Baby, Dinah, Blue Evening Blues ... dancing ... dancing with Bates ... his arms enveloping Bates. "God help me!"

"What?"

"Oh, I dropped the soap. I've got it now."

This won't do. Thomas tried thinking about breakfast. He was famished, and Mrs Patmore had been generous the last two days, filling his tray with the same food she prepared for the family. He thought about eggs and back bacon and fried tomatoes and fried mushrooms and baked beans and stewed figs. He imagined the taste of each mouthful. He imagined the taste of Bates' mouth. "What is wrong with me?"

"What?"

Thomas began to laugh.

Bates lowered his paper. "What's funny?"

Thomas sighed. "I'm ridiculous."

"We all feel that way at times, little brother." Thomas did not know it yet, but that was the first of many times Bates would address him as little brother.

Little brother. Thomas shook his head. Of all the men with whom a man could be intimate, the one man he would never choose would be his little brother.