Chapter 80: COMMITTING INK TO FORM

Three Days Later

The Bates Cottage

hungry ... whimper ... fuzzy face ... WRONG FACE ... want milk face ... BAWL ... milk face right face ... long hair tickles face ... high voice ... HURRY ... HOWL ... shawl ... darkness ... warm breast ... milk milk milk milk ... sleep ...

soggy stinging ... yowl ... new face ... WRONG FACE ... want fuzzy face ... WAIL ... deep voice ... face sings ... sniff ... right voice wrong face... confused ... singing face no fuzz ... powder powder ... face sings ... lips to face ... warm no fuzz ... shoulder ... bounce bounce bounce ... sleep ...

bored ... fuss ... singing face right face ... face talks patterns ... dock clock dock ... pleasing patterns ... pouring snoring morning ... warm lips to face ... shoulder ... bounce bounce bounce ... face sings ... bounce bounce bounce ... sleep ...

HUNGRY ... SCREAM ... milk face right face ... milk face talks ... HURRY ... SHRIEK ... shawl ... warm breast ... milk milk milk milk ... shoulder ... pat pat pat ... burp ... warm lips to face ... shoulder ... sleep ...

too much light ... too much talking ... mewl ... singing face ... WRONG FACE ... want comfort face ... HOWL ... comfort face right face ... favourite face ... deep voice ... warm lips to face ... soft belly ... belly for napping ... soft warm belly ... sleep ...

rattle rattle ... open eyes ... rattle rattle ... curly hair ... always rattle rattle ... high voice ... "emmy emmy emmy" ... curly hair always "emmy emmy emmy" ... emmy ... what does it mean? ...


The next night

Timothy was being difficult, but Anna knew she could count on Thomas to handle him. Thomas settled him in bed by allowing him to sleep with the old cricket ball Lord Grantham had given him in payment of the big brother tax. He agreed to close his eyes if he could have a song, so Thomas sang.

A Frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigho, says Rowley!
Whether his Mother would let him or no.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

So off he set with his opera-hat,
Heigho, says Rowley!
And on his way he met with a Rat.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Pray, Mr Rat, will you go with me,"
Heigho, says Rowley!
"Pretty Miss Mousey for to see?"
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley! ...

"He's asleep," reported Thomas as he joined John and Anna at the table.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Anna filled Thomas' cup with cocoa and placed a biscuit on his saucer.

"He didn't last half the song."

"Good! The songs you sing have such gruesome endings. Doesn't a cat eat the frog and his friends?"

"Only his friends." Thomas dipped the biscuit in his cocoa. "A duck eats the frog."

"What's the difference? Either way, it's ghastly," insisted Anna.

Bates set down his cup. "A duck doesn't have any teeth, my darling. That's the difference. The duck swallows the frog whole."

"John, that's dreadful!" chided Anna, but she could not help laughing. She held out the platter of biscuits. "One more?"

"No, thank you, Anna," replied Bates patting his belly. "I've had an elegant sufficiency."

"You won't stay up too late, will you, John? You have so little time for sleep. It worries me."

Bates pulled Anna close. "It's a temporary situation," he whispered and kissed her cheek. "There's no need for you to be worrying."

"Anna, don't let John go to bed without seeing the dress you sketched today," prompted Thomas. "It's splendid, John. It could be straight from the pages of Vogue."

"Thank you, Pooh, but John isn't interested in my drawings."

"That's not true, Anna," protested Bates. "You're not interested in my opinion."

"Your opinion? You said that sketching was a nice little hobby for a woman."

John threw up his hands. "Was I wrong? Tell me, Pooh, was I?"

"John, these sketches aren't a hobby for Anna. She has true talent."

"What do you mean?" Bates' voice softened. "Anna, why didn't you say?"

"I believe I may have talent, John. I may be wrong."

John took Anna's hand. "I'd like to see the sketch, Anna. Won't you show me?"

"I don't know, John. You're expecting too much now."

"I'm not expecting anything, my darling. I want to see what's important to you."

Anna withdrew the sketch from the cabinet where she kept her sewing things. She made certain the table was dry and set the drawing in front of Bates. He examined the sketch for several moments before he spoke. "Thomas is right. It does look like it belongs in Vogue."

"But do you like it?" asked Anna.

"I do, Anna. It's elegant. Not too fussy. I don't know enough to say more, except ..."

"Except ...?"

"Except, shouldn't you create the actual dress? It looks like something Lady Mary would enjoy wearing."

"Does it, John?" Anna threw her arms around Bates and kissed him. "I'd have to make my own pattern. I've never done that before."

"Perhaps we could purchase pattern paper wholesale," suggested Thomas. "I'll write Glads. The costume mistress for her theatre will know how to go about it. Then you could use as much paper as you need to create the pattern. You could make the dress first from paper and then from muslin. If Lady Mary likes the sketch and the muslin, she'll buy whatever fabric you want for a finished dress."

Anna was doubtful. "You make it sound simple, Pooh."

Bates stood and began clearing the table. "If it's important to you, then jump in and do it, my darling."

Thomas rolled up his sleeves to wash the dishes. "I'll write Glads first thing tomorrow, Anna."

Anna picked up the sketch and imagined Lady Mary wearing the finished dress. What's the worst that could happen?

Thomas clasped Anna's arm, bent down from his lofty height, and whispered, "Strawberries, Anna."

Anna gazed at Thomas' soft blue eyes, filled to the brim with confidence in her. "Strawberries, Pooh."


Several hours later

Thomas was familiar with Emilia's signals, and he recognized the fussing that woke him. She wanted entertainment. He lit the lamp and rescued her from the tedium of her cradle. With her lying on his lap facing him, he sat back comfortably on the sofa and recited the nursery rhymes he was certain were her favourites. He was enchanted by Emilia's intelligent gaze. He left off the rhymes and told her about their plans to cross the ocean and settle in the states where she could be anything she wanted, even a doctor.

"What propaganda is this?" Thomas looked up to see Bates shuffling from the bedroom and quietly closing the door. "What are you telling my little darling?"

"Your little darling is no ordinary baby. Look at those eyes. They know everything."

Bates smiled indulgently. "Parents always believe their children are exceptional." Thomas' heart swelled with pride; Bates thought of him as a parent. Bates sat on the sofa and draped his arm around Thomas' shoulders so that Emilia could see them both. "Here are the men in your life, my little darling. Do we meet with your approval?"

Thomas had never been so filled with contentment. "Your little darling is going to think her daddy has two heads," he joked.

"But what handsome heads!" responded Bates. Thomas laughed blissfully, and Bates gave him a squeeze.

"John ... it's time I returned to work. I feel ready."

"I'm glad to hear it, Pooh. I'll speak to Dr Clarkson tomorrow morning." Emilia was gripping Bates' finger, and he leaned forward to kiss her tiny fingers.

"How am I ever going to face Minnie?"

Bates sat up again. "You'll face her like the man I know you to be. I have a suggestion that may make things easier."

"What's that?"

"I could ask Minnie to stop by tomorrow afternoon. You could clear the air with her before you start back to work."

"Yes ... that would be better." Emilia began to fuss. "I'm sorry, darling. Do you want another rhyme?

I have seen you, little mouse,
Running all about the house,
Through the hole your little eye
In the wainscot peeping sly,
Hoping soon some crumbs to steal,
To make quite a hearty meal.
Look before you venture out,
See if pussy is about. ..."

Bates interrupted the recitation. "She's asleep, Pooh. So ... does the cat eat the mouse in this one?"

Thomas chuckled. "No, not in this one. I should save this one for Anna."

Bates yawned and leaned back. "Pooh, are you aware that there's something you've forgotten to do the entire time you've been here?"

Thomas was dismayed. Had Anna complained about him? He had done his best to be useful to her. Or perhaps he had annoyed Bates. "No ... what did I forget?" he asked anxiously.

"Anna tells me that you haven't smoked once."

Thomas was stunned. "Haven't I? Imagine that! I never realized."

Bates yawned again. "It would please Anna if you didn't take it up again."

"Why should I? It's a waste of money, and it's beginning to make me short of breath when I run up the stairs, just as you said."

Bates smiled and closed his eyes. "I'll give you a tin of mints tomorrow."

Bates' head bobbed once and fell to Thomas' cheek. Thomas felt Bates lean heavily against him, and it was heaven. He matched Bates' slowing breaths and imagined their hearts were beating in unison. He closed his eyes to luxuriate in the sensation but was afraid of falling asleep and Emilia slipping from his lap. He attempted to wake Bates as he did from his afternoon naps, by tracing the crinkle lines on Bates' face, but Bates did not stir. "John," Thomas cooed softly, "You must go back to bed."

Bates managed to open his eyes to a squint and stretched his legs. "You gave me such a fright, Pooh," he murmured.

"I'm sorry, John, but you need to go back to bed."

"No ... before."

"Before?"

"When you left the Abbey and I found your shoes and your coat. I thought I had lost you, Pooh."

Thomas smoothed Bates' hair away from his face. "Go to bed, Bonnie John. You're not going to lose me. I would never desert my family."


Patient Record: Thomas Barrow

Monday, June 13, 1927:

9.00 am, phone conversation - patient's brother.

Patient's fear of handling sharp objects or fire has dissipated. Expressed desire to return to work. Brother described personality as "close to normal" and asked for my confirmation. Will visit home later this morning.

Reminded brother that Webb believes a future psychotic event is unlikely but not impossible. Recommended brother prepare for possibility by obtaining birth certificates to prove his biological relationship to patient.

11.30 am, home visit (brother's home)

Patient presented no symptoms of prior condition. Spirited, comfortable, articulate. Apparent full recovery as Webb predicted. Recommended half day for first day back to work. Will advise employer of same.


Late afternoon

The Bates Cottage

Minnie knocked and tried once more to settle her butterflies. She was greeted by Thomas ... her Thomas, not the drawn and droopy man she had feared would answer the door.

"It's good to see you, Minnie. Come inside and we'll have a cup of tea and a bit of a natter."

"You're looking well, Thomas. Much better than I expected."

Thomas chuckled. "I can imagine what you were expecting. No need to worry, Minnie. I've passed muster with Dr Clarkson. I'm not a loony." He laughed. "Not any longer."

"Thomas, I only meant ..."

"It's fine, Minnie. I know what you meant." Thomas pulled out a chair at the table. "Have a seat, Minnie. I already have the kettle on."

Minnie accepted the seat. "Where's Anna?"

Thomas poured water from the kettle to the teapot to warm it. "Anna's taken the baby out for her airing. I usually go with them, but John told me to expect you."

"Please tell Anna I'm sorry I missed her. I can't wait to meet Emilia."

"You'll be able to meet her soon in the nursery. Anna's anxious to return to the Abbey and do something ... anything besides mending."

"I can imagine."

Thomas set out two cups and saucers. "I'll be back to work tomorrow ... only a half day ... doctor's order."

"I'm glad to hear it, Thomas." Minnie felt the butterflies breaking free from her stomach and threatening to fly out her mouth. "Everyone will be relieved. You've been sorely missed."

"That's kind of you to say, Minnie." Thomas emptied the pot and counted out spoonfuls of tea leaves and added boiling water from the kettle. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you've kept silent about my true condition. One word could have ruined me."

"Why wouldn't I keep silent?" demanded Minnie.

"What?"

Minnie calmed herself. "I'm sorry. It's only that John said ... is it true, Thomas ... did you truly believe that I was trying to poison you? You must know that I would never want to hurt you."

"I do know, Minnie." Thomas retrieved milk from the ice box. "Perhaps it was easier for me to believe that you were trying to hurt me than for me to face my hurting you."

"You've never hurt me, Thomas. Our broken engagement hurt, but that wasn't your doing."

Thomas sat next to Minnie and took her hand. "Minnie, I took your virginity and then couldn't keep my promise to give you children."

"But that wasn't your fault. The possibility never occurred to either of us. And you didn't take my virginity, Thomas. I gave it to you!"

Thomas laughed heartily. "You haven't changed, Minnie, and I hope you never do." Minnie studied Thomas' relaxed manner. There was something different about him ... an easiness she did not recognize. Thomas moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Minnie, we have to settle this. It's no small thing that I compromised you."

"This again?"

"You're dear to me, Minnie, and I must do the right thing."

"The right thing? What could that be?"

"If you still want to marry me, Minnie, then I'll get down on one knee and propose, the same as before."

"Thomas, what on earth ..."

"Please, Minnie, allow me to finish. If it's what you want, you may have my name and my lifelong companionship. But if you meet the man who was meant for you, then you may divorce me for any grounds you desire, and I shall cooperate."

Minnie was shocked. How easy it would be to say the truth. She loved Thomas. She ached for him. "Thomas ... do you want to marry me?"

"I can think of worse things."

Minnie stared at Thomas for a moment and then threw back her head and laughed. "Now that's a romantic proposal!"

"Oh! I didn't mean ..."

"Of course you meant it, sweetheart."

"Minnie ... I'm not certain what you're saying."

"I'm saying that I love you, Thomas Barrow. I love you far too much to force you into a marriage that would make you unhappy. You'll have to forgive me, darling. The best I can do is to give you your freedom."

"Are you certain, Minnie?"

"No, Thomas, I'm not certain. You must promise me never to ask again because next time I may not be able to resist."

"I'm being serious, Minnie."

"So am I, Thomas. Promise me."

"Very well, Minnie. If that's what you want, then I promise."

Minnie kissed Thomas' cheek. "That's fine then. We'll have our tea, and then I better get on. We'll have to get everything ready for your inspection tomorrow, Mr Barrow."

Thomas collected the sugar bowl and the tea strainer. "Minnie ... we're still friends, aren't we? We were great friends before ... before all this."

"We're still great friends, Thomas. It may be awkward at first, but we've had moments more awkward than this, haven't we?"

Thomas' cheeks reddened before he chuckled and replied, "That we have, Minnie, that we have."


Early the next morning

Thomas Barrow's Pantry

Bates had managed to dress and leave the cottage early without waking anyone. Now he was sitting at Thomas' desk trying to get the books in order. The balance book, the cheque book, the bills, and all the ledgers lay in disarray. Bates had been so busy during the last two weeks that he never prepared the closing balance for May, and here it was the middle of June. He was trying to complete the task before Thomas arrived but was out-of-balance and could not find the error. He rubbed his eyes and began again.

Bates heard footsteps and looked up to see Thomas open and close the door. "John, why did you leave so early without waking me?"

The jig was up. Bates had no choice but to confess. "I wanted the books to be in order when you returned, but May won't balance."

Thomas proceeded to pick up and examine the various books and papers, dropping each where he found it. He gazed at Bates intently and leaned against the desk next to the chair. "John, I'm going to ask you a question, and I beg you to be honest with me."

"What is it?"

"Did you do this deliberately so I would think that you and Mrs Hughes couldn't manage without me?"

Bates was annoyed. He did not drag himself out of bed in the middle of the night to be accused. "Give me some credit. Don't you think I would have been a bit more subtle than this?" he asked, pointing to the chaos that had beaten him.

"Then this was the best you could do?"

Bates was too exhausted to be defensive. "Yes, Pooh. This was my best."

Thomas clapped Bates on the back. "So, I truly am necessary!" Thomas began laughing. Bates didn't understand why and supposed he should be insulted, but he felt his heart lift. He felt as though he were floating on Thomas' laughter. Thomas grasped Bates' chin. "My poor Bonnie John. Look how tired you are." He pulled a comb from his pocket and straightened Bates' hair. "You don't need to worry about the balance. You certainly don't need to be pulling out your hair over it." He slipped the comb back in his pocket. "Now then, we'll have breakfast, you'll dress His Lordship, and then it'll be straight home to bed with you."

"But you're to work only a half day, Pooh."

"I'll bring home the hamper this afternoon and we'll switch places. How's that? And when you come back this afternoon, the books will be balanced. Will that make you happy, you old goat?"

Bates leaned back in his chair and smiled. It had been two weeks since he had heard that particular appellation.


A short time later

The Servants' Hall

As they gathered for breakfast, the resident staff and permanent locals expressed their concerns for Thomas' health and welcomed him back. Daisy appeared from the kitchen and set a small box of jars on the table. "I prepared some rhubarb jam at the farm. It's my own recipe, not Mrs Patmore's, and I'd like to know what each of you thinks. Be honest now. You're no help if you're polite."

Andy took Daisy by the waist. "Then let's you and me be honest, Daisy!" He raised his voice. "Excuse me! Daisy and I have an announcement to make." All eyes turned to Andy.

Minnie glanced at Bates who felt his stomach turn. Please no. Not Thomas' first day back.

Andy grinned broadly. "Mrs Parker and I are pleased to announce that we are expecting."

Thomas's voice could be heard clearly above enthusiastic shouts of congratulations, "It's about time, Andy," he teased. "I thought I was going to have to pull you aside and teach you a thing or two." Hilarity ensued. Mrs Hughes pretended to scold Thomas, and Daisy turned beet-red. Only Bates sat quietly, wondering if Thomas' teasing was his old protective bravado.

Daisy escaped to the safety of the kitchen, and the staff resumed their private chit-chats. Thomas leaned to Bates and whispered, "Daisy's a modern woman. She's probably read Stopes' other book."

"Other book?"

"Wise Parenthood. That's why she waited. She's planning her babies." Thomas opened one of Daisy's jars, dabbed a bit of jam on his toast, and cautiously took a bite. "Why, it's wonderful!" He spread his toast liberally and devoured the treat. "Give it a try, Mr Bates. I'll have to speak to Daisy. She has a potential business here."

Bates spread the jam on his toast and closed his strained eyes as he took a bite. He could relax now. His little brother had been returned to him.


One week later

Thomas Barrow's Pantry

Thomas was serving dinner to the family, so Bates knew he had more than enough time. He pulled the 1923 balance book from its shelf, removed two envelopes he had hidden in its pages, and returned the old book to its place. He set the envelopes on the desk and pulled some blank sheets from his notebook. He had everything he needed, but he could not bring himself to begin.

Bates walked to the single window in the room. Thomas had left the curtains open, and Bates adjusted his position until he could see the tip of the moon peeping from behind a cloud. "Are you there, Mam?" He paused, and then wondered what he was expecting to happen. "You understand, don't you, Mam? It's only that you're gone, and he's here, and he needs me. You'll forgive your darling banbhan, won't you, Mam?" He leaned against the wall and waited for the reply that he knew would not come. The cloud chose that moment to shift and unmask a half moon, but Bates was not one to assign meaning to a simple coincidence. He stepped behind the desk and sat.

Bates opened the first envelope and removed a Certified Copy of an Entry of Birth for Thomas. Bates had obtained the form in the customary way. It listed Thomas' parents as Jack Barrow and Agnes Barrow, formerly Reade. He opened the second envelope and removed a similar form for his own birth. It also was an official record, but one box on the form was blank, the result of a well-placed modest bribe. The blank box was labelled, Name and Maiden Surname of Mother. Bates studied the characteristics of the clerk's handwriting and practiced writing, Agnes Bates, formerly Reade, until his handwriting could not be discerned from the clerk's.

Bates set down the pen and closed his eyes. He summoned his most recent memory of his darling Mam ... her keen eyes, her wavy white hair, and her kind smile with only a hint of the devil in it. "I'm sorry, Mam, but I must." He picked up the pen and practiced once more before committing ink to form. He blotted carefully and waited until the ink was absolutely dry before returning the two papers to their respective envelopes. He had time now to take the envelopes home for safekeeping and return to the Abbey before he was missed. He would explain his actions to Thomas someday, but not tonight. He was torn between a sense of satisfaction and a sense of loss and needed time to make peace with himself.