Chapter 78: A DELIRIOUS PUFF
Patient Record: Thomas Barrow
Friday, June 3, 1927:
9.00 am, telephone consultation, Louis Webb, Staff Psychiatrist, West Riding Asylum, Wakefield.
Webb's opinion: Patient is suffering from a psychogenic psychosis, which is not indicative of a degenerative condition. Patient is 34 and has no prior history of psychoses in spite of suffering maltreatment as an adolescent and serving in the trenches. Webb believes patient will be able to resume normal activities within a few days to a few weeks and achieve a full recovery. Immediate concern is preventing self-harm.
Telephoned patient's employer and advised that recovery may take as long as one month. Employer shocked but willing to accommodate patient's needs.
Servants' Staircase
That same morning
"You look all in" observed Mrs Hughes as she and Bates walked upstairs to the library. "You won't be doing Mr Barrow any favours if you make yourself sick, Mr Bates."
"I appreciate your concern, Mrs Hughes, but it's unfounded. I'll be fine now that Anna and I have had a chance to adjust our routine."
Bates waited patiently by the library door while Mrs Hughes substituted for Thomas at the regular morning meeting with Lady Mary and whatever members of the family chose to be present.
Ten minutes later, Mrs Hughes reappeared at the door. "They're ready for you, Mr Bates." She straightened Bates' tie. "Take care of yourself," she ordered as she left to attend to her duties. Bates cleared his throat and entered the library.
"Thank you for being prompt, Bates," began Lady Mary.
"I beg Your Ladyship's pardon, but I didn't realize Mr Branson would be here. May I have a quick word?"
Tom grinned. "I know what this is about. Use the wagon as long as you need it."
"We appreciate Miss Sybbie's kindness."
"I appreciate the influence Barrow has on Miss Sybbie. Is he improving?"
"A bit, Mr Branson, but it will be a while before he's back to his old self."
"That's what I wanted to discuss," interrupted Lady Mary. "I appreciate that Barrow has become close to your family, Bates, but I believe he would be more comfortable recovering at the Abbey."
"What she means is that you should have asked her permission before moving him," remarked Henry without looking up from his newspaper.
"Hear, hear," agreed Lord Grantham. "What difference does it make where he recovers?"
Lady Mary did not like to be contradicted, especially in front of a servant. "I'm thinking of his comfort and your own, Bates. Isn't your cottage too small for another adult?"
"I don't want to be difficult, milady," began Bates, "but I have certain rights when it comes to making decisions for Mr Barrow while he's recovering."
"Rights? What in heaven's name are you saying?" asked Lady Mary impatiently.
Bates did not enjoy lying, but this was a lie he intended to wrestle into truth. "I know this will come as a surprise to you, and perhaps we should not have kept it a secret, but Mr Barrow and I are brothers ... half-brothers, that is."
All heads turned to Bates. Then Lady Mary laughed. "You're having us on!"
"No, milady." Bates proceeded to explain the fictitious circumstances that made Thomas his half-brother.
"Why did you keep it a secret?" demanded Lady Mary.
"We were estranged," confessed Bates. "I'm ashamed to say that I was jealous of my mother's second family and behaved badly toward my little brother."
"Barrow was hardly a prize in those days," recalled Lord Grantham. "Mary, you can't deny that Bates has a greater right than your own. Good god, Bates, half-brothers!" He laughed heartily. "Now it all makes sense!"
Thomas Barrow's Pantry
A few minutes later
Bates sat behind the pantry desk with his and Thomas' notebooks opened side-by-side. How does he do it? How does he get so much done? Bates was determined not to cancel the eclipse dance. He had to prove to himself that he could manage the business as well as Thomas or Anna.
A knock sounded at the door, and Bates looked up to see Minnie. "Do you have a moment, Mr Bates?"
"If it won't take too long. I'm meeting with Dr Clarkson."
Minnie closed the door. "It won't take long, John. I only wanted to ask ... John ... was it my fault?"
"Was what your fault?"
"Thomas' condition."
"Minnie, no! Of course not!"
"No? You're so certain?"
"Sit down, Minnie, please." Bates watched sympathetically as Minnie sank into a chair. "Now tell me, how much did you want the children that you and Thomas planned?"
"More than I've ever wanted anything," Minnie answered sincerely.
"As much as you wanted those children, Thomas wanted them tenfold. I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't named them already and knew each child's likes and dislikes, they were that real to him."
"I didn't realize. So ... it's as though he's grieving for them now."
Bates paused to consider Minnie's words. "I hadn't thought of it, but I believe you're right."
"Are you angry that I called the doctor?"
"No. You did what you thought was in Thomas' best interest, as did I." Bates stood and tucked his notebook into his pocket. "I'd better go. I don't want to keep Dr Clarkson waiting. Minnie ..."
"Yes?"
"I appreciate your not saying anything about Thomas' condition. The doctor told the family that he's suffering from exhaustion. That's not difficult to believe considering everything he accomplishes."
"John ... should I give my notice?"
"Do you want to leave?"
"No, but if it will make things easier for Thomas ..."
"If you're asking my opinion, Minnie, then I say, wait until Thomas is well and work it out with him. It may upset him to return to work and find you gone."
"I wouldn't have been able to make him happy without children, you know that, John, but ... I ..."
"I understand, Minnie. We'll take good care of him."
Dr Clarkson's Office
An hour later
"Can he truly recover so quickly?" asked Bates after hearing Webb's prognosis.
"Mr Barrow has a type of psychosis that's rather uncommon but recovery generally takes no more than a month. The patient has no prior psychotic history and typically is about Mr Barrow's age. When I first practiced medicine, the French called it, bouffée délirante, but that's gone out-of-fashion."
"Bouffée délirante?"
"Delirious puff. The modern term is psychogenic psychosis. The patient's break from reality is sudden and severe and usually follows a difficult event, such as the death of a loved one."
"Or loved ones who were never born?"
"You're referring to Mr Barrow's infertility? Yes, it's possible. Are you aware of any other recent emotional events?"
Bates sat back in his chair and tried to clear his mind. He thought back, day-by-day. "Yes. Thomas received a sizable inheritance from a man named ... Alfie ... Alfie Reynolds. I asked if they had been friends, and Thomas became enraged."
Dr Clarkson flipped back a couple of pages in Thomas' record. "Alfie Reynolds. Here it is."
"You know who he was?"
"He helped Mr Barrow obtain his first position in service when he was thirteen ... the position where he suffered so much brutality."
"Brutality? What do you mean brutality? Did this Alfie Reynolds beat him?"
The doctor looked up from his records. "You didn't know your brother back then, did you, Mr Bates?"
"No. We met when I came to work at the Abbey."
"And he never told you about his prior position."
"No. He tells me a great deal, but he won't speak of those years."
"I'm sorry, Mr Bates, but if Mr Barrow has withheld that information, then I'm not free to speak of it."
The Path to the Bates' Cottage
Early that afternoon
Bates walked up the path pulling the wagon behind him. He could not stop wondering what Dr Clarkson had meant by brutality. Bates had worked as a footman before he joined the Army and had heard tales of cruelty from retainers who began their careers as children. He was sickened to think of what Thomas might have suffered.
Bates opened the cottage door and was struck by the changed atmosphere. The bedding had been stripped from the sofa and was sitting in a tidy bundle by the door, waiting to be taken to the Abbey laundry. Thomas was dressed and sitting at the table with Anna, who was mending the hem of an evening wrap. Thomas was sewing a button to a shirt cuff.
As soon as Bates appeared, Anna nodded to Thomas. Thomas took the hamper from the wagon and brought it to the table, where he began to unpack the contents. When Bates tried to help, Thomas pushed away his hand. "No. Nap."
Anna laughed. "You're to take a nap before lunch, darling. You're not getting enough sleep at night."
Bates threw up his hands. "I can see I'm outnumbered."
"Nap," repeated Thomas, pulling off Bates' coat.
"Don't let me sleep too long, Pooh."
"Nap."
Bates retreated to the bedroom, stripped to his underclothes, and crawled between the cool sheets. I'll close my eyes for a few ... and he was asleep.
Bates was awakened by the sensation of something touching his face. He swatted at it and felt a hand. He opened his eyes to the sight of Thomas sitting on the edge of the bed and tracing his finger along the side of Bates' face. Bates gazed at Thomas' relaxed features. Even in his unshaven state, Thomas was a handsome man. Brutality. The word returned to Bates and made him shiver, prompting Thomas to bring him his clothes. He pulled on his trousers and watched Thomas holding his shirt. He could see behind the whiskers and the broad shoulders. He could see the little boy who tugged so mercilessly at his heart. He desperately wanted to elicit a smile from his little brother and playfully ran his hand across Thomas' cheek. "Iskies."
"Lunch," replied Thomas.
Patient Record: Thomas Barrow
Monday, June 6:
10.30 am phone conversation - patient's brother.
Patient eats eggy bread now, which he has learned to prepare for himself, as well as soups and stews. Sleeps fairly well at night and takes a nap in the afternoon. Responds to questions with phrases and short sentences but does not initiate conversation. Patient's sister-in-law enforces a structured routine which patient finds comforting. Yesterday was the first day patient did not engage in episodes of holding his hand over his ear (the intended purpose of which is unknown).
Patient refuses to light the stove or lantern himself although he does not seem to be afraid of the fire once someone else lights it. He also refuses to cut food that requires a sharp knife or to use his razor. Patient lacks confidence in his ability to function safely in his world.
Brother expressed anxiety that patient does not smile or laugh, even when patient plays with his nephew.
The Bates Cottage
The next morning
Thomas was taking his morning bath when Anna called from the bedroom, "Don't refill the tub for me, sweetheart. I'll have to bathe later."
"Right." Thomas tried to focus on one thing at a time. When he tried to think ahead, thoughts crowded his brain more quickly than he could manage them. He finished bathing, cleaned the tub, and put it away. As soon as he finished dressing, he knocked on the bedroom door.
Anna opened the door wearing her robe. "My waters have broken."
"You mean the pitcher?"
"No, sweetheart. I mean the baby's coming today."
"It's too soon! John's not here!"
"Thomas, calm yourself this instant! Sit down."
Thomas sat as instructed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Anna brought paper and pencil to the table. "You have only one thing to do, Pooh. I'm going to write a note, and you're going to take it to the Abbey."
"I can't leave you alone."
"Don't worry, Pooh. The baby's not coming right now."
"I haven't shaved."
"You're on holiday. No one will care. Here's the note. Can you read my writing?"
Thomas read the note. It stated that Anna was in labour and asked that John be sent home with a woman from the Abbey and that Dr Clarkson be telephoned. "Anna, John will be angry if I leave you alone."
"John has no say when it comes to giving birth. You won't let me down will you?"
"No ... I won't let you down."
"Wear your coat, and please, don't fall and have another concussion."
Thomas grabbed his coat. "I didn't fall. I was pushed!"
Anna laughed. "Well, I'm not going to push you but please hurry. You're about to be an uncle again."
"Oh!" Thomas shoved the note in his pocket and rushed out the door.
"Don't forget to say, my Lord and milady," Anna shouted after him.
Thomas flew down the path and saw a man waving to him as he approached the Abbey.
"Barrow, is that you?" shouted Lord Grantham. Thomas ran toward him. "You're looking well, Barrow. I hope you plan to shave before returning to work."
"I need a woman!"
"What?"
"I need a woman ... my ... Lord!"
Lord Grantham tilted up the brim of his hat. "Well, now I've heard everything."
"It's on the note!" Thomas held out the note for His Lordship to read.
Lord Grantham pulled his reading glasses from his pocket and took the note from Thomas. "I sent Bates to the village. I'll fetch him with the car and bring him straight to the cottage. Give the note to Mrs Hughes. Either she or Miss Baxter may sit with Anna."
"No. They don't have babies ... my Lord."
"What? Oh, you mean they've never given birth. I see your point, Barrow. Come with me."
The two men walked to the house and entered the parlour together.
The Dowager took one look at Thomas and exclaimed, "Gracious! It's a jungle man!"
Lady Merton turned to see. "Barrow, this is a surprise!"
"Please, Cousin Isobel, we're here on business," admonished Lord Grantham with a wink. "Anna's in labour."
"I see. How exciting."
"Will Lady Merton do, Barrow? She's a nurse and a mother."
Thomas strode directly to Lady Merton. "The dam's broken, milady!"
Lady Merton gazed at Thomas quizzically. Then she smiled. "Do you mean her waters have broken?"
"Yes, that's it. Are you coming, milady?" Thomas demanded.
Lord Grantham laughed indulgently. "Do you mind, Isobel?"
"I'd be delighted. There's nothing as wonderful as bringing new life into the world."
"Fine. I'll drive to the village and find Bates. Mama, would you have Andrew ring Dr Clarkson?"
"I'll ring him myself."
"You'll escort me to the Bates' Cottage, won't you Barrow," asked Lady Merton. "I've never been there."
"Yes, milady."
Lady Merton and Thomas proceeded up the path to the cottage. "You're aware that I work at the hospital and am familiar with Dr Clarkson's patients, Barrow."
"Yes, milady."
"Dr Clarkson's mentioned your case to me in strictest confidence. I understand your situation, Barrow. You needn't worry. I won't say a word."
"Thank you, milady. I won't say a word either."
