CHAPTER 61: ALL-STEEL, INDESTRUCTIBLE, NO-FAIL HEART

After lunch, Monday

On the Road to Downton Village

The sun was shining as Thomas and Minnie strolled to the hospital for their appointment with Dr Clarkson. Minnie held Thomas' arm as she felt was her prerogative now. "Thomas ..."

"Yes, Dimples?"

"I've told Anna about us."

"What?"

"You have John. I need a confidante, too. None of my sisters can be trusted with a secret. John already knows, so why not Anna?"

"Did you tell her everything?"

"Yes."

Thomas stopped in his tracks. "About my having to prove myself before we marry?" he asked desperately.

"Yes, all of it."

"Minnie, you didn't!"

"Why are you upset? You told John everything, didn't you?"

"That's different, Minnie. He was there when I spoke with Ivor, and he's ... he's a man. How am I ever going to face Anna now?"

"What does it matter if Anna's a man or a woman? You think there's more of a difference between the sexes than exists, Pooh."

"Don't call me that!"

Minnie dropped Thomas' arm. "But Anna and John call you Pooh."

"No wife of mine is going to call me Pooh!"

"And no husband of mine is going to call me Dimples!"

Thomas and Minnie stood staring at each other. Then Thomas thrust his hands in his pockets and stomped towards the hospital.

"Thomas Barrow, you stop right there." Thomas hesitated. He stopped walking and stood with his back to Minnie. Minnie caught up to Thomas with a slow, dignified gait. "Thomas, look at me."

Thomas turned and grumbled, "We've had a fight, Minnie."

"Yes, we have. Did you believe that we never would?"

Thomas shrugged and muttered, "I thought you liked it when I called you Dimples."

"I like that you want to call me a pet name, but I'm not fond of Dimples. Thomas, why is it all right for John and Anna to call you Pooh but not me?"

"John and Anna treat me like their little brother and call me a childish name. I'm fond of them, so I'm fond of the name. But you're going to be my wife, Minnie, and I don't want to be your little brother! Besides, I want my wife to have a name for me that's hers and no one else's."

Minnie smiled and took Thomas' arm again. "We better get on, or we'll be late for Dr Clarkson." They continued walking, and Minnie noticed how well their strides and tempos matched.

"Minnie, does Anna think less of me?"

"Why would she?"

"You know why. Because I'm planning to compromise you."

Minnie chuckled. "Anna's a bit old-fashioned, but she's not decrepit. She understands the necessity of it. And it's not your plan, Thomas, it's our plan. You're not compromising me when I choose to take the risk."

"Does Anna approve of our marriage?"

"She said that she doesn't have a crystal ball and can't read the future, but she wants us to do what will make us happy."

"Minnie ... what would you like me to call you?"

Minnie laughed. "Missus."


Dr Clarkson's office

Dr Clarkson looked up from his desk and invited Thomas and Minnie to sit. He did not particularly approve of their plan to marry, but he did not particularly disapprove either. Dr Clarkson knew the Childs family well. Minnie was as robust and exuberant as the rest of her clan, but she was the only one sufficiently civilized to work in a great house. "Mr Barrow, has Miss Childs told you that I brought her into this world?"

Thomas smiled to think of Minnie as a baby. "No, she didn't mention it."

"The old midwife, Mrs Sterling, suspected a problem and sent Minnie's father to fetch me. Minnie was in a breech position. She intended to meet the world on her feet."

Thomas could picture new-born baby Minnie opening the front door and running down the street. He laughed and clasped Minnie's hand.

"I understand you have some questions for me, Miss Childs. What is it you'd like to know?"

"Thomas has told me everything he could about his suicide attempt. He admits that he still has brief episodes of melancholy." Minnie shifted her attention to Thomas. "Thomas, I'm sorry to speak about you as though you weren't here."

Thomas squeezed Minnie's hand. "You're doing fine, Minnie."

Minnie returned her attention to Dr Clarkson. "Thomas says that he recovers from these episodes more easily now because he has strong friendships, which was not the case when he tried to take his life. He's confident that he'll never make another suicide attempt."

Dr Clarkson nodded. "It's unusual for someone to turn around his life as successfully as Mr Barrow. What is it you want to ask me, Miss Childs?"

"Do you agree that Thomas won't make another attempt?"

"I can't guarantee it, Miss Childs. I can't guarantee that you, or even I, would never attempt suicide. Who knows what circumstances the future may bring. But I don't believe it's a likely outcome for anyone in this room."

Minnie smiled. "That's reassuring, Dr Clarkson."

Thomas was pleased. "Thank you for your confidence in me, Dr Clarkson." He turned to Minnie. "Are we done here?"

"Almost, Thomas. Because we're speaking to a doctor, I'd like to ask one more question."

"What is that, Miss Childs?"

"Dr Clarkson, this tendency towards melancholy ... is it hereditary? Can Thomas pass that trait onto our children?"

"Again, Miss Childs, I can't give you a guarantee but only my opinion based on experience."

Thomas let go of Minnie's hand. "What is your opinion, Dr Clarkson?" he asked anxiously.

"Are you aware of any family members who suffered from melancholia, Mr Barrow?"

"Not on my mother's side. My father wasn't a cheerful man, but I wouldn't describe him as depressed. I never knew his family."

"Miss Childs, I'm acquainted with your fiancé's history." Thomas gripped the arms of his chair. "His mother died when he was thirteen, and he endured four years of ... four difficult years before coming to Downton. It would serve no purpose for him to relive those years, so I won't discuss them." Thomas let out his breath. "In addition, Mr Barrow served two years in the trenches as a member of the Medical Corps. Life in the trenches scarred even the most callous of men, and Mr Barrow was ... what age when you were transferred back to Downton?"

"Twenty-one," replied Thomas.

"Twenty-one. Barely a man. My point, Miss Childs, is that I believe Mr Barrows' situation and isolation two years ago as well as his experiences as a boy and as a young man led to his break down. I have no reason to suspect that there was a genetic factor."

Minnie stood and so did Thomas and Dr Clarkson. "Thank you for taking the time to see us, Dr Clarkson. You've been kind and very helpful."

"Not at all, Miss Childs. It was my pleasure."

Thomas did not speak until he and Minnie were alone on the road to Downton. "Well? Have you gone off me?"

"No, Dr Clarkson gave the answers I wanted to hear."

"You mean, you'll still marry me?"

"That's what I mean, Thomas ... but ...?"

Thomas stopped walking. "But what?"

"What did Dr Clarkson mean when he said you had four difficult years?"

Thomas pulled Minnie close and wrapped his arms about her. "Minnie, don't ask me. You heard Dr Clarkson say it would serve no purpose."

"All right. I won't ask." Minnie kissed Thomas' cheek. "Now we have to tackle Ivor's contract."

"Child's play." Minnie laughed and kissed Thomas on the lips. Don't pull away, don't pull away, Thomas reminded himself.


Late that afternoon

Thomas Barrow's pantry

Bates knocked and opened the pantry door. "You wanted to see me, Mr Barrow?"

Thomas looked up from the account books. "Have a seat, Mr Bates." Thomas waited for Bates to close the door and sit before continuing. "I've been checking your most recent efforts in the account books."

"Did I make an error?"

"It's an interesting thing, John. When I check Minnie's or Anna's entries, I can find them easily by the handwriting."

"That doesn't seem so interesting, Pooh."

"No, it isn't. The interesting part is that I can't find your entries because you copied my handwriting."

"Did I?"

"You know damn well you did. You made quite the expert job of it, too. I can't tell the difference."

"I'm sorry, Pooh. I don't like keeping the books. I get bored. I only did it to amuse myself."

"It's an unusual skill, don't you think?"

"I'm an unusual man. Are you done scolding me?"

"What's the use?"

"None at all, little brother. Now, don't get angry, Pooh, but I ..."

"What did you do now, John? Place an ad in the personals for me? Adopt me a foundling?"

"I thought you were done scolding."

"All right. What did you do?"

"Not much. You need a night off, that's all. I've fixed it for you. Minnie and Andy will serve dinner. Mrs Hughes will stay late. You've been staying late for her often enough."

"She prefers to eat dinner with Mr Carson. I don't like to think of him eating alone."

"I know, Pooh, and Mrs Hughes is happy to repay the favour. You and I can leave as soon as I've dressed Lord Grantham for dinner, and we can have an evening at the cottage. Anna will bring Timothy a little later. Come spend the night with us, Pooh."

"Thank you, John. I'd like that."

Who was this agreeable fellow? Bates hobbled away before Thomas could change his mind.


That evening

The Path to
The Bates Cottage

It was a pleasant evening for walking. Bates nudged Thomas as they neared their favourite bench. "Give me a smoke, Pooh."

Thomas laughed. "How long since your last?"

"January, on my birthday. You remember."

The two men sat and lit up. Bates tipped his hat forward and assumed his usual smoking posture leaning back with legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle and his arms spread along the top of the bench. Thomas gazed at Bates fondly and was amused by the rakish angle of his hat. He wondered if Bates had been a rakish youth.

Bates held up his cigarette. "I know it's bad for me, but god help me, I love it." He took another long drag and released the smoke in perfect rings. As any little brother would, Thomas leaned back on the bench and blew smoke rings, too. "Not bad, Pooh." Bates pulled off Thomas' hat and dropped it on the bench. He mussed Thomas' hair and draped his arm around Thomas' shoulder. Thomas could have sat there contentedly all night.

When Bates was certain he had taken all the pleasure he could from his cigarette, he dropped the butt to the ground and crushed it with his shoe. Thomas knew there was no point in offering him another. Bates pulled a tin of mints from his pocket and popped one of the candies in his mouth. "These are all that stand between me and another smoke."

"John ...?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think I could talk something over with you without you giving me advice?"

Bates chuckled. "You mean, would I shut up and listen?" Thomas nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Ivor and I have been having a dalliance."

"I guessed as much from the way he mentions you in his letters and the way he spoke to you in his hotel room."

"I told him to stop. He thought he was being discreet."

Bates chuckled. "I suppose that was discreet for him."

Thomas pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Read this."

"It's too dark out here."

"Use my lighter."

Bates retrieved his reading glasses from his coat and pulled the letter from its envelope. Thomas held up the lighter while he read. When he finished reading, he sat in silence for a few moments. Then he put away his glasses and replaced the letter in its envelope. "That's as lovely a letter as I've ever read, Pooh."

"It is, and it isn't, John."

"Oh?"

"He's asking me not to marry for his sake even though he would never commit to more than a now-and-then relationship."

"That's not how I read it, little brother."

"How then?"

"I believe he's saying that he knows he has no rights but for your own sake you should be true to the man you are."

"Perhaps ... but it doesn't make any difference."

"No?"

"No! Ivor doesn't understand what I want. Sometimes I wonder if anyone understands."

"We understand, Pooh, but we worry that the sacrifice you're planning to make is too great." Bates stood, stretched his legs, and sat again. "You've set me adrift, Pooh."

"What do you mean?"

"Right and wrong used to be obvious to me."

"And now they're not?"

Bates shook his head and laughed. "You force me to think, and it's exhausting!" Bates mussed Thomas' hair again and plopped the hat back on his head. "Look, here comes my toddlekins."

Thomas looked down the path and saw Timothy holding Anna's hand and jumping up and down. "Unca Pooh! Unca Pooh!"

"John, did he say Uncle Pooh?"

"Anna's been practicing with him all week."

Thomas ran to Timothy and scooped him up. "Here's your Uncle Pooh!" Thomas nodded to Anna and felt himself blush. "So Minnie's told you about us."

"That's right."

"I hope you're not ashamed of me, Anna. I know some of our plans must seem shocking to you, but we want to be certain we're doing the right thing."

"You worry too much."

Why were people always saying that to him. "Then you understand?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I understand."

Thomas could see that Anna was tired. He had tried and failed to force a half-day schedule on her. "Let me ready Timothy for bed, Anna. I know how. I've watched you." Anna laughed. A chore for her was a treat for Thomas.

Thomas prepared Timothy exactly as he had seen Anna do it. Then he read poems from The Child's Garden of Verses, and Timothy was soon asleep. Reluctantly, Thomas set him in his iron crib and closed the privacy curtains.

Bates brought Anna a rug and covered her legs. "I'll make dinner, sweetheart."

"You can cook?" asked Thomas, surprised.

"Certainly I can cook. I was in the kitchen with my Mum when I was a boy, and she got me started. You can cook, can't you Pooh?"

"I can make tea. That's all."

"Honestly? Do you hear that Anna. I can do something Pooh can't do."

Anna laughed. "How is it that you never learned to cook? You do so many things well."

Thomas sat on the sofa next to Anna. "My first attempt didn't go well. When I was four, I tried to bake a cake for my sister's birthday."

"What happened?"

"I was so excited that I woke up before Mum and Dad. I wanted the cake to be a surprise, so I tiptoed into the kitchen in my bare feet. I couldn't reach the bowls or the pans, but I could reach the flour and sugar and eggs and vanilla. I picked a spot on the floor near the oven to mix the cake."

Anna laughed. "Oh no!"

"That's right. I dumped all the ingredients on the floor and mixed it up with my hands. The batter was lumpy, so I jumped on the lumps to smash them. Then I opened the oven and scooped in the batter with my hands. I was so proud of myself. I thought I had done something special. I had to wake up Mum because I didn't know how to heat the oven.

"Oh dear!"

"Yes, she was furious. When she saw the mess and the food I had wasted, she gave me one good swat on the bottom. I've never forgotten it. She had never whipped me before. She didn't believe in it. I was so humiliated that I went back to bed and didn't come out all day. I didn't eat, either, not even when Mum brought me a piece of the cake she had baked after she cleaned up the oven. That's the only time I can remember being angry at her. I forgave her in time for breakfast the next day, but I never tried to cook after that."

Anna patted Thomas' hand. "There's something terribly sad about that story."

Thomas shook his head. "It's silly ... a man my age. I should learn to cook something ... eggs, perhaps. They're easy, aren't they? I'll want to help Minnie when she's pregnant the way John helps you."

"Pooh, how would you like to help me right now?"

"You know you only have to ask."

"My feet are swollen every night, and I'm so fat now."

Thomas grinned. "You want me to take off your shoes?"

"Would you?"

Thomas knelt on the floor and removed Anna's shoes. "I'll rub your feet."

"You don't have to do that, Pooh."

"I know. I want to." Thomas returned to the sofa and set a pillow on his lap. Then he reached down and lifted Anna's feet onto the pillow.

"Anna, your feet are so tiny!"

Anna laughed. "Do you want me to have feet like yours?"

Thomas laughed, too. He began to work her left foot. After a bit, he asked, "How's that?"

"Lovely," Anna responded softly.

Thomas looked up from his task. Anna's eyes were closed, and she was leaning back against the sofa in a euphoric state. Some things are the same for men and women.


Several hours later

Anna had gone to bed right after dinner, and Thomas and Bates chatted about nothing of importance while they cleaned up the dishes and relaxed. When Bates retired for the night, Thomas made up the sofa and changed into his pyjamas.

Thomas was sleeping comfortably when he was startled by a voice. He opened his eyes to find Dr Clarkson standing over him, wearing his white coat. Thomas was wearing a hospital gown.

"I'm telling you, Mr Barrow, there's nothing that can be done. You're a fragile case and your prognosis is poor. I won't operate. Your heart can't take it."

"My heart?"

"That's right, Mr Barrow, your heart. You may as well close your eyes. You're a dead man."

"What?"

"Close your eyes, man!"

Thomas closed his eyes. Then he realized he could not remember what Dr Clarkson had told him only a moment before. He opened his eyes, but Dr Clarkson was gone, and Bates was standing in his place and wearing his white coat. He was holding one of Anna's kitchen knives.

Bates sat on the edge of the sofa. "Clarkson's a coward. I'll replace your heart."

"What?"

Bates untied Thomas' gown and removed it with one quick pull. "Don't worry. It won't hurt. Close your eyes."

"No! Go away!"

"Too late! I've already made the cut. See, it didn't hurt at all, did it?"

Thomas saw a red slit running down his chest, but he could not feel anything, and there was no blood. "You're right. It didn't hurt."

"See. I told you!" Bates reached his hand inside Thomas' chest and pulled out a small brown ball. "I don't know what the hell this is, so it can't be important." Bates tossed the ball to the side and reached inside again. This time he pulled out a delicate crystal heart. "This is your heart. It's a model for a baby, not for a grown man. It's too fragile. It's slippery too." The heart slipped out of Bates' hand and fell to the floor where it shattered.

"My heart! You broke my heart!"

Bates grinned. "But look what I have here." Bates held up a polished metal heart. "This is the new All-Steel, Indestructible, No-Fail Heart. This is a heart for a man! Let's try it. Close your eyes."

"No!"

"I'm not inserting this heart until you close your eyes. If you don't want a heart ..."

"Fine!" Thomas closed his eyes.

"Open your eyes!" Thomas opened his eyes. Bates was still sitting on the edge of the sofa, but now he was dressed in red silk pyjamas. Bates tapped Thomas' chest, which had healed. "Aren't you pleased? Now all that remains is to activate it. It's not pumping yet."

"How do you do that?" asked Thomas.

"I'll show you." Bates leaned forward and kissed Thomas on the mouth. Then he put his ear to Thomas' chest. "No, that didn't do it. You're a tough case." Bates kissed Thomas more passionately this time, and Thomas felt his heart pound.

"It's working!"

"Of course it's working. I'm an expert. Now we'll rev it up." Bates kissed Thomas' ear and neck and began to move down his chest.

"Stop! It's too much! My heart's going to explode."

Bates lifted his head from Thomas' chest. "Don't be ridiculous. This model's guaranteed not to explode."

"It's going to explode, I tell you."

Bates became indignant. "Who's the doctor here?"

"Dr Clarkson."

Bates stood. "Shall I leave you with a half-functioning heart?"

"No! Please!"

Bates sat again on the edge of the bed. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Obviously, the red pyjamas are too much for you. I'll have to try something else. Close your eyes!"

Thomas closed his eyes.

"I'm too much man for you. This time you'll have to take charge. It's up to you to rev up your heart. Understand?"

"Yes. Should I open my eyes?"

"Not yet." Thomas thought he could feel Bates moving the sofa cushions. "Right. Remember, it's up to you. Open your eyes."

Thomas opened his eyes. He reached both hands behind Bates' head and brought Bates' lips to his own for an ardent kiss. He felt Bates take hold of his hands and firmly pull them away. "Thomas!"

Thomas froze. Bates never called him Thomas in private these days unless it was to scold.

"You were dreaming, Pooh. I didn't mean to wake you. I can't find my mints. I must have dropped the tin on the sofa." Bates leaned over Thomas and ran his hand behind the cushion. "Here it is. Sorry, Pooh. You'll understand if you ever quit smoking."

"That's all right."

"Who were you kissing? Ivor?" Bates teased and patted Thomas' cheek. "He's a lucky man. You'd better go back to sleep and catch up to the rest of that dream." Bates stood and popped a candy into his mouth.

"You're not angry with me for ...?"

"Angry? I think our friendship can endure one misplaced kiss, Pooh."

Thomas wanted to shout, It wasn't misplaced! Then he saw the bedroom door and was reminded that Anna was sleeping in the next room ... wonderfully fat, pregnant Anna who had called him sweetheart earlier that night. He felt a pang of guilt. "Goodnight, John." He turned towards the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. But he couldn't help thinking about the taste of John's kiss. John always smelled of mint. He tasted minty, too.