CHAPTER 44: NOT FOR DOWNTON
Sunday night
Outside the Abbey
It was too dark to see the occupants of the car headed up the drive, but when Bates heard the horn, he knew Thomas had to be inside. He was excited to see Thomas and hear about his adventures, but he was apprehensive. Thomas had been the subject of no less than three newspaper articles during the course of one week. Perhaps his head had been turned by all the attention. Perhaps he had lost interest in their mundane friendship. Bates watched as the driver's door opened and Thomas appeared. Another man, whom Bates assumed was Novello's chauffeur, climbed out of the passenger seat.
Thomas ran to Bates and clasped his hand. "I've missed you, John! Did you see me driving! I have so much to tell you! Come and meet Morgan. Has Lady Mary had her baby yet?"
Bates laughed with relief. "Slow down, little brother. I can't keep up!"
Thomas smiled warmly at the familiar endearment. "It's good to see you, John." He squeezed Bates' hand before releasing it. Thomas eagerly introduced Bates and Morgan to each other, and the two men shook hands.
"Thomas, did you drive all the way from London?" asked Bates.
"Farther!" bragged Thomas. "All the way from Kent."
Morgan nodded, "Yes, we'll go out after daylight and collect the bodies."
Thomas nudged Morgan and laughed. "Stop it, Morgan. He'll think you're serious."
Bates turned to Morgan. "I suppose you've met all sorts of celebrities, Mr Morgan. Tell me, have you ever had the opportunity to be a celebrity yourself?"
"That's an odd question. I've been an actor, but I've never been a celebrity."
"Brace yourself," warned Bates. "Word is out that Ivor Novello's chauffeur is staying the night. The downstairs crew is waiting to meet you. Even the day hires have stayed late. I'm afraid your life won't be worth a farthing if you don't have some gossip to share."
Morgan grinned. "I've got plenty!"
Bates took Morgan through the servants' entrance while Thomas parked the car. They stopped first in the kitchen. "Arthur Morgan, this is Mrs Patmore, the Abbey's cook."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs Patmore. Mr Barrow tells me that you're the best cook in all of Yorkshire and beyond."
"Get along with you, Mr Morgan," replied Mrs Patmore.
"She doesn't do it alone!" protested Daisy.
"I didn't see you, Daisy," apologized Bates. "This is Daisy Parker, our assistant cook. She's quite the culinary artist herself."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs Parker. I understand that you're a newlywed. Please allow me to offer my congratulations."
Daisy cheeks reddened. "Mr Barrow spoke about me?"
"Certainly! He said you used to study each night after a long day's work and you passed your school certificate exams last year on the first try. Double congratulations are in order."
Bates chuckled as he escorted Morgan to the servants' hall. "You'll get an extra bit of something on your plate tonight."
The Garage
Thomas parked and unstrapped his and Morgan's bags from the back of the car. Something was not quite right with his bag. He did not recall packing it so full. He unfastened the clasp and found, sitting on top of his meticulously packed belongings, the dressing gown he had worn at his farewell party. As he pulled the garish thing from his bag, he could see the cigarette holder protruding from the pocket. The pocket also held a note.
Darling,
You were right. We would have failed as lovers and been wretched. But we shall be glorious as nearly the most intimate of friends. I miss you already, my darling boy. I hope you will think of me from time to time. I will be thinking of you as you read this.
All love,
Ivor
The dressing gown made Thomas laugh, but the note made him cry. He paced up and down the garage, laughing and crying and trying to compose himself. He could not walk into the servants' hall in such a state.
"What's wrong, little brother?"
Thomas jumped when he heard Bates' voice. "You startled me."
"Are you sorry you came back?"
"No, John, not at all." He slipped Novello's note into his pocket. "It's only that there are things I'll miss."
"Is Ivor one of those things?"
"He's a sweet man, John, and he was terribly kind to me. It's unfathomable, isn't it? Me being friends with a movie star."
"I don't think so."
"John, I know what you did."
"What did I do?"
"I know about the letters."
Bates hesitated. "I didn't think Ivor would tell you."
"I stumbled on them by accident. What could he do but tell me?"
"I suppose you're angry at me for interfering."
"How can I be, John? I've had the most incredible week. I can't wait to sit with you and Anna at the cottage and tell you about it."
Bates seemed relieved. "I didn't like going behind your back."
"And you won't do it again. Do you hear me, John? I don't care how it turned out this time, you won't do it again! Agreed?"
"Agreed, little brother. Are you ready to go inside?"
"I don't want the others to see me quite yet. I'm a bit ... unsettled."
"Why don't you take your bag up to your room. You can collect yourself and wash your face and ... wash off that perfume."
"The perfume! I forgot!" gasped Thomas. "But what about Morgan?"
"I don't think he's wearing perfume."
"No, John. I mean, I shouldn't leave him alone. He's my guest."
"He's having a great time in the servant's hall," assured Bates. "He's probably never had as attentive an audience. You'll join us in time for supper."
"Supper? We thought we were too late for supper. All right then. I'll take up his bag, too. Which room did you give him?"
"My old one."
John ...?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you like the perfume?"
Bates laughed. "I do. It suits you. But it's not for Downton."
"No," agreed Thomas. "Not for Downton."
