CHAPTER 63: NOT ALL PICNICS AND KITE FLYING

Two days later

The Abbey Grounds

Miss Sybbie scratched Tiaa's head as they strolled up the path with Thomas. "Mr Barrow, if we're going to talk business, then shouldn't I wear my business dress?"

"Not today, Miss Sybbie. It's only the two of us. Why don't we sit on the bench there." Miss Sybbie and the dog ran ahead, and Thomas caught up quickly with his long stride. "I hear you've been working on your costume for Mud Day."

"And Daddy allows me to practice cricket with George. Miss Petty doesn't like that."

"No, I suppose she wouldn't."

"Yesterday, I hit the ball after a bounce, Mr Barrow!"

"That's fine, Miss Sybbie. I hope the village girls are as excited as you are."

"They must be! Costumes and prizes and jumping in the mud ... and no boys to spoil it!"

Thomas laughed. "I'll be there."

"You're not a boy, Mr Barrow. You're big."

"That does make a difference, I suppose. Shall we get down to business?"

"I'm ready."

"Miss Sybbie, how would you feel if you were playing a game for prizes, but you believed the game was rigged?"

"Rigged? What does that mean, Mr Barrow?"

"It means that the winners had been selected beforehand."

"Then I wouldn't want to play!"

"And why is that?"

"Because it wouldn't be fair, Mr Barrow."

"That's what we need to discuss, Miss Sybbie. You live in the finest house in Downton. Mr and Mrs Bates and I work for your family, and we're hosting Mud Day. If you win a prize, the other girls may think it was rigged for you to win."

Miss Sybbie's eyes quickly filled with tears. "Mr Barrow, does that mean I'm not to play?"

"Of course you're to play, Miss Sybbie, and you're to wear a costume, but it would be better if you didn't win a prize. At least, not on the very first Mud Day."

"You mean ... so the other girls won't think I'm a cheater?"

"That's right, Miss Sybbie. Unless you win a race. No one will think you cheated if you win a race."

"Then I'll run my fastest."

"Good. You may not want to mention our talk to the other girls. It may make them feel sad for you."

"I don't want anyone to feel sad on Mud Day."

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss Sybbie. We're counting on you to make the other girls feel welcome and help them join the fun."

"I can't wait, Mr Barrow!"

"Neither can I, Miss Sybbie."

"Are we done talking business, now?"

"Yes, but I have something for you." Thomas pulled a book from his pocket. "You're doing so much for the library, I want you to have this."

"Thank you, Mr Barrow!" Miss Sybbie accepted the book and read the title, "A Little Princess. Will you read it to me, Mr Barrow?"

"No, but you may read it to me, Miss Sybbie. I'll help with the big words. Now get on with you before Miss Petty takes me to task for keeping you too long. She scolds in French, and I can't defend myself."


Savoy Hotel
22 April 1927

My Dear Barrow,

If I've done anything to encourage your efforts on behalf of your village's library, then I'm proud indeed.

Now I must change my tone and ask if you've decided to remain a butler. My last recommendation to you was to find and develop one solid, American contact. You mentioned that your employer has an American relative who may be of value, yet you seem to have taken no action in that regard.

I understand your desire to obliterate the habits of your younger self whom you say felt no qualms about exploiting relationships. I can tell you only that there is no crime in benefiting from relationships as long as you are above board and you try to benefit others when you're able (much as you're doing now). Don't toss out the baby with the bathwater.

Forgive me if you have delayed because of a situation of which I am ignorant. I believe in your abilities and am anxious to see you on your way.

Your friend,

Loreto Santarelli


Tuesday

The Library

Thomas met with Lord Grantham and Lady Mary as usual after breakfast so he could be made aware of any last-minute plans or guests for the day. Henry and Tom were in attendance as they often were, though they rarely made demands.

"Is everything coming along for Mud Day?" asked Tom. "I've never seen Sybbie so excited."

"Miss Sybbie's not alone, Mr Branson. We've sold more tickets than we anticipated. Some girls are coming from as far as Thirsk."

Lord Grantham looked up from his newspaper. "Will you be able to handle that many? We don't want the Abbey to be associated with a fiasco."

"Papa!" chided Lady Mary.

Thomas took Lord Grantham's reaction in stride. "Several fathers from the village have volunteered to help, my Lord, during the day and afterward to clean up the mud."

"I didn't know you were taking volunteers. I'd like to help," offered Henry.

"So would I," added Tom.

"You're kind to offer, Mr Talbot, Mr Branson. I'll let Mr Carson know."

Lord Grantham chuckled. "Carson? Don't tell me he's getting muddy, too."

"No doubt, my Lord. He's helping the volunteers put together their costumes and showing them how to keep the girls entertained. He seems to be in his element."

Lord Grantham stood. "Is everyone to be a part of this but me, Barrow?"

"I didn't want to presume, my Lord."

"Presume away, Barrow. Is there something left for me to do?"

"I thought you might take photographs, my Lord. Perhaps the paper would publish one."

Lord Grantham brightened. "Why didn't you say so, Barrow? I'll go to Ripon right now for film. There's a knowledgeable fellow at the shop there I can ask about taking action shots."

Henry took the newspaper and tucked it under his arm. "Tom and I better get on, too. I'll see you later, Mary."

"I beg your pardon, Mr Talbot. I was hoping to speak to you and Mr Branson."

Henry was surprised. "Oh?"

"I saw your newspaper advertisement for car mechanics."

Tom laughed. "Don't tell me you want to apply, Barrow."

Thomas smiled politely. "No, Mr Branson, but I was wondering if you would consider hiring an apprentice mechanic as well."

"We hadn't discussed it," replied Henry. "Who did you have in mind?"

"Our hall boy, Billy. It's time he became a footman, but frankly, he doesn't have the social finesse for it, and I don't believe he ever will. I hate to let him go with no options. I know his parents count on his wages, small as they are. He's a hard worker, Mr Talbot, and I believe he has a talent for mechanics. He's the only member of the staff besides myself who I trust to work on the clocks."

"It's kind of you to consider the boy's future, Barrow. Mr Branson and I will talk it over and let you know."

"He's in the foyer now waiting for my instructions, Mr Talbot. Perhaps you could take him with you on some pretext and see what you think of him."

Lady Mary raised an eyebrow. "I think you've been out-maneuvered, darling."

Tom laughed. "It can't hurt, Henry. Let's go."

As soon as Tom and Henry left, Lady Mary turned her attention to Thomas. "I suspect I'm not getting off Scot-free this morning."

"I beg Your Ladyship's pardon, but I do have a favour to ask."

"You may ask, Barrow, but I have no intention of playing in the mud this Saturday. I'm willing to dispense beer, and that's all."

"That's a sight I look forward to witnessing, milady, but I wasn't going to ask you about Mud Day."

"No? What then?"

Thomas pulled an envelope from his pocket. "I've written a letter to Mr Levinson about a possible business venture."

"My uncle? I'm intrigued, Barrow, but I don't see how it involves me."

"Mr Levinson doesn't know me from Adam, milady."

"You want a letter of introduction, is that it?"

"Yes, milady."

"Do you expect to read it before I send it?"

"I don't know what's usual, milady, but no, I wasn't expecting to read it."

"Am I to know what this proposed venture is, Barrow?"

"I'd rather not say, milady. At least, not until it's ... tangible."

"I see." Lady Mary stood and walked to the window. "You're leaving us, aren't you Barrow? I thought you loved Downton."

"I do love Downton, milady, but we've discussed this before. I don't want to be caught snoozing when you're forced to send me packing."

"You're certain it will come to that?"

"You succeed where other estate agents fail, milady, because you face reality head on. I must do the same. I promise not to leave you in the lurch."

"Fair enough, Barrow. Give me the letter."


Saturday

The Robinson Car

Molly Robinson sat in the car between her parents. Mum had wrapped her hair in a towel, and her muddy clothes had been stuffed in a sack. She clung tightly to the string of the bakery box on her lap. The box held the glorious cake she had won for being the fastest runner at Mud Day, faster even than the older girls. Molly had never felt so excited and so exhausted at the same time. She was certain that this had been the best day of her life.

Molly had been jealous when, after the costume parade, the older girls were the first to remove their shoes and play in the mud field. But she forgot her jealousy when she sat with the younger girls at the cricket field and saw the men who were demonstrating the game. They had painted the ends of their noses red and wore silly moustaches or beards or wigs, and their clothes were all wrong. One man wore hip boots for fishing and one of the batsman carried an umbrella instead of a bat. Suddenly a horn sounded, and two men dressed as American cowboys ran onto the field carrying camp chairs and a small table with a tea service. The two men shouted, "Tea time!" and set up their table right on the pitch so that the bowler and batsman had to play around them.

A tall man with a crushed silk hat and a long straw moustache explained the rules of the game. The players clowned, and the tall man begged for a player who could hit the ball. Immediately a woman with dark curly hair and large round eyes strutted onto the field. She wore a faded gown, the kind Molly had seen in old photographs. The woman stepped confidently to the crease. The bowler delivered the ball, and the woman hit it over the boundary. Then she swung the bat over her shoulder and paraded off the field to enthusiastic cheers from the girls and their parents watching from the picnic area.

Now it was Molly's turn to play in the mud! She removed her shoes and waved to her parents. She was glad that her brothers were old enough to be left at home for the day. She looked back at the cricket field and saw that a skinny man in a fez was explaining the game to the older girls, who had hosed and dried their feet and put on their shoes. Molly turned her attention to the tall man, who was allowing the younger girls to have their fill of jumping and rolling in the mud before he taught them how to bowl with straight arms.

The tall man announced they would have practice races in the mud followed by true races on the grass. The mud was slippery, which made the practice races hilarious, but Molly and the other girls grew serious when it was time to race for prizes.

Molly had never raced, but she adored running and intended to make the most of this rare opportunity. First, the tall man had them race by age and selected the three fastest girls from each group, who would receive ribbons and race again. No one was more surprised than Molly to discover that she was the fastest 6-year-old. She won a bright red ribbon. She wondered if Mum would allow her to wear the ribbon to school or church. No, the other girls may think I'm showing off.

Soon it was time for the winners to race again. The tall man shouted, "Ready ... steady ... go!" Molly ran gleefully as the girls cheered. She turned for the run back and realized she was in the lead. She ran straight to the tall man. "The winner!" he proclaimed. Molly turned back to the other runners and jumped and cheered until everyone was across the line.

The tall man sent Molly's group to hose and dry their feet and find their families for lunch. One of the other young girls approached Molly as she was putting on her shoes. "My name's Sybbie. What's yours?"

"Molly."

"I never saw anyone run as fast as you, Molly. I came in sixth. Will you have lunch with me?"

"If you'll eat with me and my parents," replied Molly.

Molly sat with her parents and Sybbie and ate delicate sandwiches with no crusts. The woman who had batted the ball was playing a ukulele and singing. Most people knew the words and sang too. The tall man was visiting each family as they ate and sang. He greeted Sybbie and introduced himself. Then he sat on the grass next to Molly. "What's your name?"

"Molly." Molly liked the tall man. He had pretty blue eyes and a toothy smile. She thought it was odd that he called her new friend, Miss Sybbie, even though she was a little girl.

"You have all the makings of a fine athlete, Molly. Would you like to try racing against the older girls after you've played some cricket?"

"Yes!"

The tall man laughed. "Good. I'll tell you when it's time." Then he leaned close to Molly's ear and whispered so only she could hear, "Someday I hope to have a little girl just like you."


Sunday

The Bates Cottage

"John, it's ridiculous that you don't have electricity or a decent bathroom. You had better living conditions in the attic than you have here. I'm going to speak to Lady Mary about it," insisted Thomas.

"That's for Anna and me to decide, and I say no," responded Bates. "Now let me have a look at your shoulders."

"That's for me to decide, and I say no," countered Thomas.

"Are they always like this?" Minnie asked Anna.

Anna sighed. "Often enough, and I'm not in the mood for it." She turned to Thomas. "John's afraid that if Lady Mary makes improvements to the cottage then she'll ask us to pay rent. Now, what's wrong with your shoulders?"

"Look at how he's standing," interrupted Bates. "You can see what's wrong. He overworked his shoulders yesterday teaching the girls to bowl, and now he's in pain and won't admit it. If he would take off his coat, I could ease the tightness with a little massage."

"Stop bullying me, John!"

"And now I'm a bully!"

Anna picked up her rolling pin and slammed it on the table. "STOP IT!" Thomas, Bates, and Minnie jumped and stood agape. "What do you see when you look at me. DON'T ANSWER! I'll tell you what you see. You see a very tired, very pregnant woman, who has misplaced her sense of humour among all the trivial arguments she's been forced to hear."

"Anna, I'm ...," began Bates.

Anna slammed down the rolling pin again. "I'M SPEAKING! Now then, Minnie has prepared a lovely dinner to show Thomas what sort of cook she is. If you two continue to behave like children, you may march yourselves to the Abbey and eat with Timothy and Nanny in the nursery. I intend to enjoy Minnie's dinner. It smells delicious, Minnie."

Minnie stood blinking, not knowing what to do.

Thomas pulled out Anna's chair at the table. "Would you like to sit, Anna. I'll help Minnie."

Anna sank into the chair. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Thomas stood behind Anna and patted her shoulder while he made a face at Bates.

Bates looked down and tried not to smile. Anna gazed at Bates, whose every thought she knew at a glance. "Did he stick out his tongue?"

"No, he only made a face. He's a child, you know."

"You're both children, and I'm too tired to find it amusing."

Bates pulled up a chair and sat close to Anna. "Remember what Dr Clarkson said, Anna. No two pregnancies are alike. Just because you worked last time until labour began doesn't mean that's the best choice this time." Bates looked to Thomas for reinforcement.

"John's right, Anna. You can still earn wages. Miss Baxter has offered to give you all her mending in exchange for your duties at the Abbey. You could do the mending right here, Anna. Listen to what your body is telling you."

"The way you're listening to what your body is telling you?" retorted Anna.

"All right! So I overdid it yesterday! If I let John look at my shoulders, will you let me alter your duties until after the baby is born?"

Anna closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "All right, Pooh. I surrender."

"Good." Thomas removed his coat and draped it neatly over a chair.

"Better take off your waistcoat, too," advised John.

"Fine." Thomas draped his waistcoat over his coat and sat in the chair.

Bates reached around and unfastened the top button of Thomas' shirt. He bent down to Thomas ear and whispered, "Thank you, Pooh, for getting her to agree." Thomas nodded.

Bates asked Thomas to point to the areas that were painful, and Thomas complied. Bates placed his hands at the base of Thomas' neck.

"That hurts!"

"I haven't done anything yet. What a baby!"

"Just don't break anything, you old goat. Everything needs to be in working order when I get married."

Bates tapped the top of Thomas' head. "We all might be better off if this wasn't working so well," he teased. "Let your arms go, Pooh. Drop them at your sides."

"You'll have to cut the strings first, Geppetto."

Anna opened her eyes. "This is fair warning that the next thing I hit with the rolling pin won't be the table."

Bates and Thomas held their tongues, and Bates massaged Thomas' neck and shoulders. He wondered if he should disclose his idea for their next dance. It would be the first time he had created a theme himself. "I have an idea for a dance at the end of June."

Thomas and Anna were silent, so Bates continued. "Everyone's talking about the solar eclipse on the 29th. The eclipse will be early in the morning, so I thought we could have an all-night dance on the 28th. The band could play songs with moon or sun in the title, and we could serve breakfast before the sun rises. I have an idea for a contest too. We'll give a prize for the best new dance to be called The Eclipse."

Anna and Thomas remained silent. Bates was disappointed. "You don't like it?"

"Perhaps you should ask our partner what he thinks," suggested Anna, a faint smile on her lips.

"All right, Pooh, let me have it." Bates stepped in front of Thomas' chair to hear his critique.

Thomas didn't answer because he was sound asleep.


One week later

Thomas Barrow's Pantry

Thomas opened the door to his pantry to find his chair turned to the back corner of the room. He knew immediately that Bates was sitting in the chair, napping.

"I'm not napping," came Bates' voice.

"I know. You're only resting your eyes."

Bates stood. "I suppose you want your chair back."

"If it's not too much trouble."

Bates took a seat in front of the desk. "You did ask me to be here at 11:00, didn't you, to select an eclipse band?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I'm late. It was because of Miss Sybbie."

"She's all right, isn't she?"

"She's fine. We've been meeting every morning at 10:00 so she can read me a chapter in her book. Everything was fine yesterday, even though an unpleasant solicitor by the name of Mr Barrow appeared in Chapter 7. Miss Sybbie wanted to know if we were related, and I had to remind her that the people in the story weren't real. But today when she read Chapter 8, she began sobbing. I didn't know what to do."

"Did someone in the story die?"

"Well, yes, in yesterday's chapter, but that wasn't why she was crying. She was crying because the little girl in the story was forced to sleep in a rat-infested attic. She knows I sleep in the attic, so she began to think that my room must be like the room in the story."

"The poor dear. She's such a sweet thing."

"She wouldn't stop crying, and I felt so helpless. I couldn't take her to the attic alone, could I? I had to telephone Mr Branson at the showroom. He gave Mrs Hughes permission to escort us."

"And was Miss Sybbie satisfied?"

"Yes. She thought the little girl in the story would have been very happy in my room."

"Good."

"That's not all, John."

"Why? What happened?"

"She told Mrs Hughes that when she's old enough, she's going to marry me." Bates chuckled. "Then she told me I should start getting the room ready now!"

Bates threw back his head and laughed.

"It's not funny, John. I had to sit her down in front of Mrs Hughes and tell her that by the time she's old enough to marry, I'd be an old man."

"What did she say?"

"She said it didn't matter. I was an old man now!"

Bates laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes. "Children have a different idea about age. What did you do?"

"I told her that I couldn't marry her because I was promised to someone else."

"What did she say to that?"

"She started to cry all over again. Then she said she hated me and stomped down the stairs by herself."

"I'm sorry, little brother, but it's time you learned that parenting is not all picnics and kite flying."