CHAPTER 31: THE BUTLER
A moment later
Thomas' Bedroom
Ivor Novello's Flat
Thomas was beginning to question his decision to visit Novello. In Downton, he felt like a sophisticate; here, he felt like an oaf.
Again, Thomas attempted to make an ally of Morgan. "Morgan, I don't want to embarrass Ivor in front of his friends and staff. I work on a traditional estate where the servants are accustomed to receiving tips. Please tell me what is customary here. I don't want to snub anyone out of ignorance."
Morgan smiled pleasantly. "There's no need for concern, Mr Barrow. No one on the staff will accept a tip from you. Ivor has said he'll take care of us after your visit."
Thomas frowned. "He shouldn't have done that, Morgan. I'm not a yokel, and I'm not a charity case. I do have some money. And please, Morgan, if you address your employer as Ivor, then you must call me Thomas."
"Thank you, Thomas. I don't like to be familiar without an invitation. Please understand that no one here considers you a charity case. Ivor knows you have limited funds, and he doesn't want financial concerns to ruin your holiday. He appreciates that your work allows you little opportunity for time off. You must understand that many of Ivor's friends, as well as Ivor himself, came from modest beginnings and accepted favours along the way. They see no shame in it or cause for concern."
"Are you certain, Morgan?"
"Absolutely. And you shouldn't be concerned about what I'm about to show you."
Thomas stood. "What now?"
Morgan opened the closet to reveal a small selection of men's clothes. Thomas saw evening clothes, a luxurious overcoat, a midnight blue suit, and some trousers. There were a couple of sweaters on the shelf. "Please keep in mind that they're all borrowed. Ivor wanted to buy them for you but was afraid you'd be insulted."
Before Thomas had a chance to comment, he heard a knock. Morgan opened the door, and Novello stepped inside. "I see you found the clothes. Don't be angry with me, Thomas. They're all borrowed."
"So I've heard."
Morgan remained by the door. "I must excuse myself now. It was good to meet you, Thomas."
"The same to you, Morgan, and thank you." Morgan nodded and closed the door as he left.
Novello draped himself languidly across the bed. "I hope Noël's lecturing didn't put you off. He's trying to make an artist of me, but I'd rather be a success." Novello laughed at his own joke. "Have you unpacked yet?"
Thomas shook his head. "Not yet."
"Let's see what you've brought."
Thomas tried to be nonchalant. He set his bag on the end of the bed and opened it. He pulled out the first item.
"What's that?" asked Novello.
"Pyjamas."
Novello stood and inspected them. "These won't do at all!"
"Why not? Who's going to see me in my night clothes?" asked Thomas. He tried to sound casual, but he was alarmed.
"It's not who sees you in them that counts, Thomas," replied Novello gently. "It's how you feel while you're wearing them." Novello opened a drawer and pulled out a box tied with a ribbon. "This is for you. It's a gift from me to you. You must have the full experience while you're here ... even while you're sleeping!" He held out the box to Thomas.
Thomas didn't take the box. "Ivor this won't do. I thought we had an understanding about this week."
Novello flashed a mischievous smile. "You mean that your virtue is sacred? I have every intention of keeping my promise to you, Thomas. I don't want to end up with a broken arm!" Novello chuckled at his memory of their first time alone in a bedroom. "Don't spoil my fun, Thomas. Take the box. Please." Novello clasped his hands and assumed his most angelic face.
Thomas couldn't help but laugh. He accepted the box, pulled off the ribbon, and opened it. Inside were silk pyjamas and a matching robe. "They're red!"
"Fire engine red, to be exact. Just your colour, I think."
"Do you?" Thomas stroked the red fabric with his hand. "Thank you, Ivor."
Novello peaked inside Thomas' bag. "Did you bring the perfume?"
"Or course I did." Thomas reached inside and retrieved a sweater. Inside the sweater was his bottle of Le Tabac Blond in its protective box.
"Let me put it on you." Novello did not wait for Thomas' approval. He opened the bottle and dabbed some perfume behind Thomas' ears. "Let's see how it develops on you."
Novello reclined again on the bed, and Thomas continued to unpack. "Bobbie wasn't home when you arrived, but he'll be home soon."
"Bobbie?"
"Didn't I tell you? This is my flat, but I live here with Bobbie ... Bobbie Andrews. He's an actor, too."
Thomas was not certain he understood. "You mean, he's your lover?"
"Yes. Is that so surprising?"
"But you're so ... free with yourself!"
"Yes, and so is Bobbie. To us, love is not about locking ourselves up together."
Thomas shook his head. "I could never do that."
"Do what?"
"If I made a home with a man I loved, I couldn't bear for him to sleep around. I don't think I could bear even for him to flirt with another man." Now it was Novello who shook his head. "Do you think I'm selfish, Ivor?"
"I think we're two different men, that's all. You aren't judging me, are you, Thomas?"
"Why should I judge you?" Thomas grinned. "I've heard that there's room for all types of men in London."
Novello laughed. "There's room for all types of men in London and even in this flat, my darling." Novello stood. "Let's see how your Tabac is coming along." He stepped behind Thomas and clasped him around the waist. Thomas didn't resist. He accepted that Novello loved to flirt but knew that there was a line he would not cross uninvited. Novello brought his nose behind Thomas' ear and sniffed. "Yum!" Thomas closed his eyes for a moment and savoured the feel of Novello's breath on his neck and arms about his waist. How easy it would be to surrender to Novello, but Thomas had more self-discipline than that, even if no one at Downton thought so.
Novello released Thomas and leaned against the door. "Tell me, Thomas, is there anything you especially want from your visit here."
"Yes. I want not to read of my arrest in The Illustrated Police News."
Novello was about to make a joke but saw that Thomas' concern was real. "I don't take those kinds of risks, Thomas, truly. And I certainly would never put you in harm's way. Now tell me what you'd like to do while you're here."
Thomas smiled. "Against my better judgment, Ivor, I'm putting myself in your hands."
The next morning
Ivor Novello's Flat
Novello did not like mornings, and Thomas relished the opportunity to sleep late. When he awoke, he remembered that he was wearing red silk pyjamas. He jumped out of bed, slipped on the matching robe, and examined himself in the full-length mirror. He placed a cigarette in his mouth, smoothed his hair to one side, and posed. He laughed and shook his head. He was no Ivor Novello.
Thomas enjoyed a quiet breakfast with Novello and Bobbie. Thomas liked Bobbie and could see that he was good for Novello. Novello was flighty, but Bobbie was sensible. After breakfast, Novello announced that a dance teacher, Garland Jobin, was coming to the flat to improve Thomas' tango. Novello would get some work done while Garland worked with Thomas. "I have a rehearsal space rented for tomorrow. Garland will work with both of us there."
When Garland arrived, he took one look at Thomas and said, "It's impossible! Look at his posture."
Thomas was taken aback. He had always taken pride in his carriage. Who was this petite man with his wild mane of black hair and his odd little goatee? "What's wrong with my posture?"
"Nothing's wrong with it. It's perfect. It's perfect for the fox trot or the waltz or anything except the tango!"
"Garland, darling, Thomas is a capable man. Show him what he must do, and he'll adapt. I must get to work now." Novello started for his study, stopped for a moment, and then called Garland to his side. "Garland, you must behave yourself with Thomas."
Garland pulled himself to his full height, which brought him to Novello's chest. "I can teach the tango, or I can behave myself, but to do both is impossible. Which do you want?"
"Both, darling. I insist."
Wednesday morning
The Servants' Hall
As Bates and the others were gathering for breakfast, Minnie rushed into the room brandishing a newspaper. She handed the paper to Bates. "Lady Mary wants you to see this. I want you to see this. You won't believe it!"
Minnie had the paper opened to the item of interest. She pointed to a photograph of two men in white tie standing back-to-back. They each were holding dance partners whose faces were in shadow. Bates looked at Minnie. "So?"
"So?" Minnie tapped the newspaper impatiently. "Look again, Mr Bates!"
Bates looked more closely and let out a gasp. The photograph was of Thomas and Ivor Novello. The caption read, "Ivor Novello and mystery man demonstrate a new interpretation of the tango."
Anna bent over Bates' shoulder. "Is that Mr Barrow and that actor, The Rat?"
"That's right! Mr Barrow and Ivor Novello." Minnie confirmed triumphantly. "Read us the story, Mr Bates."
"There's a story, too?" asked Mrs Hughes in disbelief.
"It's Lord Castlerosse's column," replied Bates.
"The Londoner's Log! Please read it, Mr Bates," begged Minnie.
Bates prayed that the article would not imply anything improper between Thomas and Novello. He preferred to read it in private, but that was going to be impossible. Reluctantly, he set the paper on the table and read the story aloud while Daisy served their breakfast. "Ivor Novello and a mysterious companion took charge of the dance floor last night, along with their partners, actresses, Constance Collier and Gladys Cooper, at the Savoy Hotel."
"Gladys Cooper! Do you suppose she's the one who danced with Mr Barrow?" wondered Baxter.
"She's truly a beauty," added Andy who was working at the Abbey full-time while Thomas was on holiday.
"Is Mr Barrow the mysterious companion?" asked Daisy.
"I suppose so," Bates answered. He continued reading, "The Savoy Orpheans played a tango, no doubt prearranged by Mr Novello. Mr Novello and his accomplice, unlike the other couples on the floor, made no effort to match the quick tango rhythm. Rather they made a spectacle of slowness, not ponderously, but exquisitely so. They further astonished the after-theatre crowd by maintaining back-to-back contact with each other for the entire dance while expertly manoeuvring their partners in a tight circle. The unbroken, blind contact between the two men intensified the allure of their movements. If one moved his left leg forward, the other moved his right leg back in perfect synchronization, with no apparent signal between them. Pair by pair, the other dancers stepped aside to watch in fascination. Take a lesson, Valentino; this is how it is done!
"When the music ended, Mr Novello and his fellow dancers returned to their seats amidst much conjecture as to the identity of Mr Novello's friend. I tried to gain access to the handsome stranger, but Mr Novello and his tablemate, Noël Coward, along with the rest of their party, closed ranks, thwarting all attempts by the public and the press to question the newcomer. Mr Coward was overheard referring to the man as The Butler. Some suggested he truly was no more than an ordinary butler, but I can assure my readers that there was nothing ordinary about him."
"But he is an ordinary butler!" protested Daisy.
"Let him finish, Daisy," chided Mrs Hughes. "I can't believe my ears."
Bates read, "A more likely explanation came from a source within Mr Novello's inner circle, whose identity I promised to protect. The mystery man is a cousin of murdered Czar Nicholas II. According to this more convincing account, he had the foresight to leave Russia, penniless, in 1910, convinced that revolution was inevitable and took refuge in the North of England where his native elegance secured him employment on a country estate."
Anna began to laugh. "1910! That's when Mr Barrow came to work here. What will the Crawleys say when they find out they have a Russian prince for a butler?" Everyone was laughing now, even Bates.
"Wait. There's a bit more." Bates read the ending. "As last night's frivolities progressed, other men attempted to cooperate on the dance floor in imitation of Mr Novello and The Butler's back-to-back style, but their attempts inevitably led to disastrous and often hilarious results. No doubt, Mr Novello and The Butler had spent months perfecting the technique." Bates sat back. "That's all it says." The newspaper was immediately removed from Bates' hand and passed around the table as the room filled with excited chatter.
Bates was relieved. He had detected no insinuation of a romantic relationship between Thomas and Novello, and the Abbey, Downton Village, and even Yorkshire were not specifically identified in the article. Still, he didn't look forward to hearing Lord Grantham's comments on the story.
