CHAPTER 28: KEWPIE DOLL

Mid-May, 1926

Thomas Barrow's Pantry

"The family simply must accept a woman serving in the dining room. That's all there is to it!" insisted Thomas as he discussed the Andy situation with Mrs Hughes. Now that Andy and Daisy were married, Andy wanted to work fewer hours at the Abbey and more hours at the farm. The hall boy, Billy, was in the midst of a growth spurt and far too clumsy to serve. "We're hiring a parlourmaid," Thomas concluded.

"If your mind is set, then I know just the woman," replied Mrs Hughes. "She's been in service for years but has never accepted a permanent job. She wanted to see England, so each position she accepted was in a different county."

"I don't want to hire a temporary, Mrs Hughes. All that effort to train her in our ways, and then she's off. What's the purpose in that?"

"She says she's had enough of travel and wants to settle down. She was raised in Downton, and she's moved back with her parents who are neighbours of Mr Carson and myself. I can assure you she's both capable and good-natured. Why don't I arrange an interview for tomorrow morning? I think you'll be pleased."

Thomas readily agreed. As butler, he had come to rely on Mrs Hughes' sound judgment. He knew exactly how dependent the successful operation of the Abbey was on her resourceful and practical self.

Mrs Hughes left Thomas to go about her business, but she was worried about him. Andy had told her in confidence that Thomas was up at all hours obsessing about the Abbey. Before he married, Andy had been in the habit of waking before sunrise and walking to the farm to help Mr Mason with morning chores. One morning, he had found Thomas asleep near the front door where he had been re-polishing one of the brass dragons. On another early morning, he had heard Thomas shouting in his pantry. When he opened the door to see what was amiss, he found Thomas at his desk cursing as he sorted through a stack of household bills. Andy surmised from Thomas' untidy appearance that he had been there all night. Bates had expressed concern to Mrs Hughes that Thomas was losing weight. He would down cup after cup of tea while eating very little. Mrs Hughes wondered how to broach the topic with Thomas.

Thomas remained in his office and rang up the agency to order an additional housemaid for the weekend. As butler, he had been so focused on the Abbey that he hadn't noticed any change in himself, and he was unaware of the concern others had for him save for Bates. He sometimes suspected that he was more a charity case to Bates than an object of true affection. The less sleep he got, the more certain he became.


Late the next morning

At the appointed hour, Mrs Hughes brought her candidate to Thomas' pantry. "Mr Barrow, this is Minnie Childs."

Thomas looked up from the schedule he was reviewing to assess this itinerant parlourmaid. Everything about Minnie was round. Her cherubic face was surrounded by short, dark curls. She had large, brown eyes, dimples, and a small, bow-shaped mouth. She was tall for a woman and slender, but curvy, not skinny. Immediately, Thomas thought of a kewpie doll and could not help but smile.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Barrow." Minnie's voice was higher pitched than Thomas had expected from a tall woman. It had an impish quality that made him want to laugh.

Mrs Hughes walked to the door. "I'll see you on your way out, Miss Childs. I'm right down the hall." She closed the door behind her.

"Have a seat Miss Childs. I won't ask you about your experience. Mrs Hughes has assured me that you're qualified. I'm more concerned about whether or not you truly want a permanent position after living a life of travel."

"Then I'm obliged to explain why I chose such a life, Mr Barrow. It wasn't for love of travel. I was looking for a husband to support me so I could leave service and raise a family.

Thomas was surprised both by Minnie's explanation and by her candour. "And you didn't find one?"

Minnie chuckled. "What I found, Mr Barrow, is that men who want wives, don't want me."

"That doesn't seem likely, Miss Childs. You appear healthy and attractive enough."

"Unfortunately, Mr Barrow, I'm a bit too interesting to be a wife."

Thomas was amused. "And how is that?"

"I have dreadful habits, Mr Barrow."

"That sounds ominous, Miss Childs. What sort of habits?"

"Well, Mr Barrow the worst is that I read."

"And prospective husbands don't appreciate a well-read woman?"

"That has not been my experience, Mr Barrow. Reading leads to opinion which leads to discussion which leads to argument. I haven't found the prospective husband yet who appreciates a good argument."

Thomas was curious. "What are you reading now, Miss Childs?"

"Mrs Dalloway."

"Ah yes. Virginia Woolf. I read it last winter."

"Did you? I haven't finished it, Mr Barrow, so please let's not discuss it yet."

"I understand completely, Miss Childs. I'm afraid we've lost our way a bit. I was asking you why you want a permanent job. What makes you think you won't find a husband in Downton?"

"I'm thirty, and that's the end of it. Spinsterhood, come and take me. I'm yours."

Thomas sat back in his chair and laughed heartily. If he were the kind of man who wanted a woman, he might have gotten down on one knee right then and begged Minnie to marry him. An honest, well-read woman with a sense of humour and a charming face who knows how to serve ... what more could a man want?


As luck would have it, the night Minnie made her first appearance in the dining room, the Dowager and Lord and Lady Merton were in attendance.

The Dowager observed Minnie serving the first course. "What's this? A woman serving?"

"Barrow, has it come to this?" asked Lord Grantham.

Thomas replied evenly, "This is Minnie Childs. She has served throughout England."

"Couldn't keep a position, my dear?" asked the Dowager.

"Why shouldn't a woman serve the dinner?" interrupted Lady Merton. "A woman prepared it! I think it's about time."

"Of course you do. I would be disappointed if you didn't. But what if one of us were to swoon? Who would be strong enough to catch us?" demanded the Dowager.

"This is the modern age, Granny," replied Lady Mary. "Women don't swoon today. We're independent."

"If modern women knew how to swoon, they wouldn't need to be independent," the Dowager retorted.

By then, Minnie had worked her way to the Dowager. As the Dowager served herself from Minnie's tray, Minnie leaned close to her ear and spoke. Thomas held his breath. At first the Dowager appeared shocked that Minnie would speak directly to her on her first night of service, but then she listened, and finally she smiled.

"Well, I haven't swooned in over sixty years, and I don't intend to resume tonight," proclaimed the Dowager, and that concluded the matter.

After dinner, Lady Merton pulled the Dowager aside. "I'm dying of curiosity. What did Minnie say to you?"

The Dowager stood poker-faced. "She said, 'I may not be as strong as a man, but I make up for it in other ways. For instance, I bring a bag to work with me every day with my dresses, sewing machine, and other necessities. It's too heavy for me to carry, but because I'm clever, I hang it on my bicycle and carry my bicycle instead.'"

Lady Merton was puzzled for a moment. Then she laughed so loudly that everyone turned to look. "What an odd duck!"

The Dowager took Lady Merton's arm as they walked to the drawing room. "We need an odd duck. I've been terribly bored."