Chapter 86: SILVER WING DE LUXE
The Next Morning
Westminster
Bates studied Thomas as they walked side-by-side to the Baths. Thomas seemed lost in some pleasant reverie as he strolled alongside Bates. "Pooh ...?"
"Mmm?"
"What is that Cheshire grin, little brother?"
"What?"
"What has you so preoccupied?"
"Not much."
"It's old Lady Grantham, isn't it?" queried Bates. "Are you going to tell me what's been going on between you two?"
"You know very well what's been going on. An old friend of hers visited, and she wanted me to stand by her chair while they had tea because ..."
"...because?"
"Because I'm so pretty."
Bates let out a hoot.
"Do you doubt it?" demanded Thomas as he cocked his hat and strutted ahead.
"Not I, little brother!" protested Bates. Thomas slowed his pace, and Bates drew closer. "Why are you being so secretive? Why does she want to take you to Paris instead of her own butler?"
"Spratt!" snorted Thomas. "That man would be less than useless. He'd pick up old Lady Grantham's suitcase and collapse on the spot."
Bates frowned. "Has she asked you to keep her plans in confidence?"
"Yes."
"You only had to say, Pooh. I won't ask another thing about it."
"Thank you."
Bates judiciously changed the subject. "What do you have in store for me this morning?"
"It's a surprise."
"That sounds ominous."
"There's only one way to find out," answered Thomas as he waved to Mr Howe, who was waiting near the men's second class entrance.
Unlike the previous day, Bates wasted no time entering the pool and following Thomas into chest-deep water. He had felt a moment of panic as he descended the steps, but that passed as soon as his feet were planted on the pool bottom.
"Well? What's today's goal?"
"Putting your head fully under the water ... but we'll work up to that gradually," Thomas added quickly.
"Begin, then, before I have a chance to think about it."
They began by leaning over and dipping only their faces in the water.
"John, keep your eyes open."
"You're joking! Do you keep yours open?"
"Certainly. I want to see where I'm swimming. Let's do it again for a count of five, and you see how many fingers I'm holding up."
They each took a breath and placed their faces in the water. Bates squeezed his eyes shut and kept his face in the water until he felt Thomas tap his shoulder.
"How many fingers?" Thomas asked after they raised their heads.
"Three," replied Bates.
"You're guessing! Your eyes weren't open at all!"
"Weren't they?" asked Bates with immense innocence.
"You're wasting our time, John!" reprimanded Thomas.
"You're very strict, Mr Barrow."
Thomas crossed his arms.
"Are you going to pout now, little brother?"
"The clock is ticking, John."
"You win, Pooh. Hold up your fingers, and I'll keep my eyes open. I'll try, anyway."
"For a count of five." Bates nodded, and they repeated the exercise.
This time, Bates made a concerted effort to open his eyes and blinked them open and shut until he felt Thomas' tap. He raised his head and rubbed his eyes. "You tried to trick me. Seven fingers."
"That's right. How did that feel?"
"I thought the water would sting if I opened my eyes. Silly of me.
Thomas laughed, "You're not washing your face, you old goat. There's no soap in this water."
What's next?"
"Putting your entire head under."
"Oh."
"Breathe, John." Bates nodded. "You're not breathing. Why don't you relax a bit and let me show you what you can learn once you're able to put your head under."
Bates let out his breath. "All right."
Thomas took a deep breath and dropped to the bottom of the pool. He pushed hard off the side and shot under the water as straight as an arrow. As he lost momentum, he executed breast strokes, each stroke ending with a long glide. He came up for air on the other side of the pool and returned the same way. Bates was transfixed. How wonderfully graceful he is. Thomas surfaced next to Bates and took a moment to catch his breath.
"That was beautifully done, Pooh."
"Flatter me all you like, John. I still want you to put your head under."
"You're a bully!"
"No more stalling, John."
"Fine."
"We'll take breaths and drop under for a count of three. Then we'll stand." Bates nodded, and Thomas took his hand. They each took a breath and dropped under the water, but Bates panicked and came up coughing. "You're all right, John. Catch your breath, and we'll try again."
They tried again with the same result. Bates gripped the rail with both hands. "I feel so damned foolish!"
"That's not helpful, John," chided Thomas gently.
"I know."
"Turn around and give it your best try. Tomorrow's another day."
"Only once more?"
"Only once more, John," assured Thomas as he took Bates' hand. "Ready?" Bates nodded. The two men each took a breath, dropped to the bottom of the pool for a count of three, and came up together.
"Did I do it?" asked John in disbelief.
"You did!"
Bates did not know why, but he did not feel ready to celebrate. "I want to do it again ... by myself."
"By yourself? Are you certain?"
"Yes, I'm certain. I ... I have to do it by myself." Bates held his breath and dropped. He sat on the bottom of the pool with his bad leg extended because it did not bend easily. He kept his eyes open and looked about. For some confounded reason, he did not feel panic; he felt calm. He could learn to like this. When his lungs asked for air, he straightened his good leg and pushed himself to the surface.
Thomas beamed. "Nicely done, John! I can't wait to tell Anna!"
"That time was easier. Once more, Pooh, by myself."
"Don't you want to run in the water the way we did yesterday? It's the best thing for your leg."
Bates glanced at the clock. "We have time for both." He took a breath and dropped under the water. In one quick movement, he grabbed Thomas tightly around the knees and stood.
Thomas was caught completely off guard. "John, let me go!"
Bates clutched Thomas' knees to his chest. "This is for stealing my clothes yesterday."
Thomas pulled at Bates' arms but they didn't budge. "Put me down, John!"
"Not until you tell me I'm pretty."
Thomas burst out laughing and tried to wriggle free. "You're not, you old goat. Everyone knows I'm the pretty one."
Bates kept a tight grip with one arm while reaching up with the other to deliver a slap to Thomas' bottom. "Say it."
"You're a pretty old goat!"
Bates delivered a second slap. "Say it properly!"
"You're pretty, for an old goat!"
"Close enough." Bates released Thomas, who came down with a splash. "You're right, Pooh. I've lost too much muscle. I couldn't have held you much longer."
Thomas was flushed. "But you were holding me, John. Besides, muscle can be rebuilt."
"Then you don't believe it's too late for me?"
"That's ridiculous! Come on, John. Let's race!"
Tea Time
The Dowager's Sitting Room
Thomas sat at the table with the Dowager at his right and Lady Bennett at his left. Bebe was asleep at her mistress' feet.
Lady Bennett squeezed a bit of lemon into her tea. "Before we begin, Barrow, do you have any questions?"
"I do, milady. I was wondering why you chose me when you could have hired an actual gigolo."
The Dowager stirred her tea calmly. "And make myself vulnerable to blackmail?"
"I see your point, milady."
"Anything else, Barrow?" asked Lady Bennett.
"What is the purpose of these practice teas, milady?"
"Our dear Ella is no fool," replied Lady Bennett. "We must work out all the details if we're to be convincing."
"Details, milady?"
"How you and Vi are to address each other, how long you have been together, that sort of thing," clarified Lady Bennett. "We need to make subtle choices. Vi and I have discussed it and believe we should build on the truth as much as possible."
"The truth" interrupted the Dowager, "is that you're a butler and your manners as a butler need only minor alterations to become the manners of a gigolo."
Thomas did not know if it were he or gigolos who should be offended. "Milady?"
"It is not our intention to insult you, Barrow," soothed Lady Bennett. "Please allow me to demonstrate. Let's begin with how you are to address Vi. You will address her exactly as you do now, except that instead of saying milady you will say my darling."
Thomas took a sip of tea while he digested Lady Bennett's instruction. He turned to the Dowager and purred, "And how will my darling address me?"
Two hours later
Lord Grantham's Dressing Room
Lord Grantham accepted shirt studs from Bates and inserted them one-by-one. "How's the swimming coming along, Bates?"
Bates smiled. "It doesn't resemble swimming quite yet, my Lord, but I'm beginning to like it. I believe I'll be a swimmer before we return to Downton."
"Bravo, Bates!"
"Thank you, my Lord, but the credit goes to my brother."
Lord Grantham held out his right sleeve. "May I speak freely, Bates?"
Bates inserted a link into the cuff. "Certainly, my Lord."
"I know you two have grown close over the last couple of years, and brothers should be close ..."
"... but ...?"
Lord Grantham held out his left sleeve. "Isn't it a bit risky to spend so much time in a swimming pool with an invert such as your brother?"
Bates tried to cover his surprise as he inserted the second link. "May I speak freely, my Lord?"
Lord Grantham smiled. "That seems fair."
Bates helped Lord Grantham into his waistcoat. "My brother is a striking man who hasn't even hit 35. He's friends with some of the handsomest inverts, as you call them, in London. Do you believe a man like that, in his furthest imagination, could entertain the thought of a romance with an old man such as myself?"
"I didn't realize that you were such an old man, Bates," replied Lord Grantham softly.
"I beg Your Lordship's pardon." Bates had forgotten that the difference between Thomas' age and his own was almost the same as the difference between his age and Lord Grantham's.
Lord Grantham chuckled as he buttoned his waistcoat. "Nonsense, Bates. We said we were going to speak freely. Have you spoken your mind? I can take it."
Bates carefully modulated his voice as he held open Lord Grantham's dinner jacket. "I'm a happily married man, my Lord, and my brother considers my wife to be his sister and would never do anything to hurt her."
"Anything else?"
"Only that I am not an invert, and I believe it takes two, my Lord."
"I'm afraid I've insulted both you and your brother, Bates, which was never my intention. I hope I haven't damaged our friendship."
"Certainly not, my Lord. You spoke to me with sincere concern, which I appreciate. I'm afraid I wasn't prepared for the question and became flustered."
"I understand." Lord Grantham glanced at Bates in the mirror. "It's only ..."
Bates placed a white bow tie around Lord Grantham's collar. " ... only ... ?"
"Nothing, except that for someone who was caught unprepared, you seemed to have your arguments at the ready."
"Did I?" Bates tied the bow expertly, something he could do in his sleep. As he brushed stray bits of lint from Lord Grantham's dinner jacket, he wondered how Thomas would react to the suggestion that there was something sexual between them. Would he be revolted? Would he want to end their friendship? He could not grasp what had compelled Lord Grantham to make such a suggestion.
Night, one week later
Thomas Barrow's bedroom
It had been only six weeks since Bates had saved Thomas from what likely would have been commitment to an asylum. After his recovery, Thomas reluctantly relinquished to Bates control of his sleep habits. Bates immediately put the kibosh on Thomas' habitual late nights and now he was insisting on a daily nap to compensate for their early mornings at the Baths. Bates personally enforced the nap rule. Thomas would strip to his underclothes, as he was doing now, while Bates sat reading his library book from Downton. He would not leave the room until Thomas was in bed with no reading material, balance books, or work schedules within reach.
"Lady Bennett came to the nursery with me today to show her dog to the children."
"Did she?"
"As a favour to me."
"What?"
Damn me and my mouth! "As a favour to Lady Grantham. Isn't that what I said?"
"No. Never mind. Did Timothy like the dog?"
Thomas chuckled. "How could he not? It did all sorts of cute tricks. Timothy wanted Lady Bennett to hold the dog over Emilia's crib so she could see it."
"Did Lady Bennett oblige?"
"She's a kind woman, John. As soon as she understood what Timothy wanted, she set the dog right in the crib. Nanny was incensed, but she held her tongue."
Bates laughed. "I wish I could have seen that!"
"It gets better. Timothy could see that Nanny was angry, and he wagged his finger at her and scolded, For Emmy! For Emmy!"
"Standing up for his little sister. I like that."
"I was that way with Flossie. I would tease her incessantly, but I watched out for her too."
Bates marked his place and shut the book. "I know, Pooh. Get in bed now."
Thomas pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets. "Flossie and I shared a room. That wasn't uncommon then, even for the middle class ... all the children in one room ... at least, where I lived."
Bates pulled down the window shade. "Where I lived, too." He sat on the edge of the bed to listen.
"If she was too cold, or if she thought there were ghosts under the bed, or if there was thunder, I would let her cuddle up to me. Most of my friends ignored their little brothers and sisters and let them go crying to their mums, but I liked that Flossie turned to me. I wanted to be her hero, I suppose."
"Then you understand how I feel about you."
Thomas looked up with surprise. "But ... I'm not a little girl, John."
"Does it matter?" Bates turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, Pooh."
"Goodnight, John." Thomas was glad to be going to Paris the next day. He was falling in love with Bates all over again, and the situation was becoming untenable. It was that damned horseplay in the pool. Yes, Bates had lost some muscle over the years, but he still was a powerful man. Once he had a grip on Thomas, Thomas was helpless to break free, not that he wanted to break free. He would require only a few days to allay his passion, and if those days were to be in Paris, so much the better.
Mid-morning, the next day
The Cab
Thomas sat in front with the cabbie, and the Dowager and Lady Bennett sat in back. Thomas was surprised that the Dowager would undertake a trip to Paris without Denker but assumed that one of Lady Bennett's servants would attend to her needs.
When they left Grantham House, Bates kept his promise not to ask further questions about the Dowager's plans. "Enjoy yourself, Mr Barrow." Thomas could see that Bates was worried and appreciated his restraint.
Thomas had arranged an appointment for Anna to show her dress designs to Gladys Cooper that very afternoon. He regretted that he would not be there to share her excitement, or possibly her disappointment. He was trying to picture their meeting in his mind's eye when he realized that the cab had missed Victoria Station. "Where are you going?" he demanded.
"Croydon Aerodrome. Where did you think?"
"Croydon Aerodrome?" Thomas turned to the back seat. "Good lord! Are we flying?"
"I'm not getting any younger, Barrow," replied the Dowager. "We're traveling by the most expedient method."
Lady Bennett smiled. "We're taking the new Silver Wing de Luxe. It has lunch service."
