CHAPTER 96: WHAT ANY PITIFUL 13-YEAR-OLD WOULD DO

A moment later

Thomas Barrow's Bedroom
Maison de Bennett

Bates hurried to close the drapes and turn the fan towards the bed. He did not want to give Thomas the chance to change his mind.

"John, you said we'd catch cold with the fan on us."

"It's only while we have the drapes shut. The darkness may help you. Are you ready?"

"Why are you making this into a big production?"

"You're exaggerating, Pooh. Are you comfortable?"

"I suppose. The breeze from the fan is a relief."

"Good." Bates returned to his side of the bed and sat against the headboard. "Relaxed?"

"No. I feel foolish."

"More foolish than when I put salve on your bottom?"

Thomas jerked his head towards Bates. "What kind of a thing is that to say?" he demanded.

"It's a simple question."

"There's such a thing as tact, John Bates. Most people would have said, What do you have to lose? and leave my bottom out of it."

"Very well. What do you have to lose?"

"You're trying to unsettle me, aren't you?" accused Thomas. "You think it will make me more vulnerable!"

"Perhaps. Is it working?"

"Perhaps!"

"Good. Close your eyes."

"Fine!" Thomas closed his eyes.

Bates leaned closer to Thomas and spoke softly. "I'm going to call you Thomas. No one called you Pooh back then."

"This is daft. Nothing's going to happen."

"Probably not. But if something does happen, let yourself be carried away."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Tell me about the day you left home."

"That was the day Mum died. I've told you about that."

"Tell me again."

"My father left for the shop as though it were any other day. Then Mum told me she was dying, and I ran for the doctor. I remember exactly what the doctor said. She's already dead, boy. You should have fetched me yesterday. Then he laughed. I won't have any trouble noting the time of death in this house, will I, boy? He was making a joke because my father was a clock-maker."

"What else do you remember?"

"I remember trying to grasp the finality of it. I remember that Mum looked like a wax doll. Her face was blue and her lips were almost white. Death had touched everything but her hair. When the doctor left for my father's shop, I tied a long lock of her hair with embroidery thread from her button box and cut it with her scissors. Mum was particular about her hair, so I used her brush to smooth over the missing piece. Mum had given me her grandmother's ruby ring to hold for my sister, and I tied it to the lock of hair. I wrapped it all in a piece of newspaper, tucked it in my pocket, and left with nothing else but the clothes on my back."

"Where were you headed?"

"The estate where my sister and Baxter worked. I thought the owner might take me as a hall boy. I didn't know the name of the owner or the location, but I remembered Mum saying that it wasn't far from Leeds. I was an ignorant boy. I thought the clerk at the Leeds Post Office would know her."

"That's not so ignorant for a twelve-year-old. It's resourceful."

"I was thirteen. It was Flossie who was twelve. Our neighbours called us the Irish twins, but I didn't understand the joke back then. Flossie was a good student and had her certificate, so she was able to leave school at twelve and go to work."

"Don't tell me you walked from Manchester to Leeds with no money in your pocket?"

"I told you I was ignorant. I asked for directions along the road, and people would point the way. I'd see a cottage here or there and ask for water, but I didn't dare ask for anything more. I didn't want to invite questions. I stumbled along crying for Mum. I was pitiful!"

"You aren't very kind to yourself, Thomas."

"Why should I be? I was thirteen and should have managed better. I should have taken my coat and the few bob that were mine and a hard-boiled egg, at least. I could have gone to Baxter's mother for the address of the estate. But no. I had to run away like some stupid little boy who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas."

"Any thirteen-year-old who loved his mother would have been distraught over her death."

"A person can be distraught and sensible at the same time. You would have been."

"We're talking about you, Thomas. Did you make it to Leeds?"

"I walked until it was too dark to see. Then I curled up near the road and cried myself to sleep. The next morning the sun woke me, and I finished my walk. I was shocked when the clerk at the Post Office told me that he had never heard of my sister. When I persisted, he shouted at me to leave. Then the other clerks began to jeer. One yelled that they had workhouses for vagrants like me. I was terrified and ran out. I didn't know it, but Alfie Reynolds spotted me and followed me out."

"Alfie Reynolds? The man who left you money?"

"He wasn't a man then. He was seventeen. I ran aimlessly and found myself at the new market hall. I went from stall to stall asking for work in exchange for a bite of food. I was small for my age then, and I must have looked undesirable after my long walk and no food and no bath. No one would have me. That's when Alfie introduced himself. I'd seen men in livery before but never someone so young. He was splendid. He asked me if I was hungry." Thomas opened his eyes. "I couldn't help myself, John. I'd never been truly hungry before."

"There's no shame in being hungry, Thomas."

"Alfie took me to a shop and bought saveloys and chips. Then he took me to his room above a public house, and we stuffed ourselves. He was kind to me, so when he asked why I was alone, I told him. He asked me if I wanted a job, and I couldn't believe my luck. He told me that his employer was looking for a page, and that I might do."

A page? Bates thought to himself. In the twentieth century?

"Alfie wouldn't tell me his employer's name, but he had been his page until recently. Now he was a junior footman, and his employer needed a replacement. I asked what I must do to impress the man, and Alfie prepared me. I must never question or contradict the man or show emotion. That didn't seem odd. Isn't that what most employers expect? It certainly was what my father expected. Alfie told me that his employer had high standards and would test me occasionally. The more difficult he made it sound, the more I wanted to prove myself. I would show my father that I didn't need him or anyone else. Then Alfie told me I could nap in his bed while he spoke with the man." Thomas fell silent.

"Did his employer hire you?"

Thomas sat up. "I need some water."

"I'll get it." Bates brought the pitcher and glasses to the night table on his side and poured Thomas some water. He watched as Thomas sipped. He dreaded what was coming, but it had to be done for Thomas' sake. "What happened when Alfie returned?"

"He was excited. He said that his employer had agreed to interview me that night after dinner. Alfie insisted I take a bath and helped me clean my clothes. He even bought me a toothbrush. He said nothing would impress his employer more than cleanliness. That didn't worry me. My mother liked cleanliness too." Thomas stopped and looked at Bates. "I don't want to lie down. I don't want to shut my eyes."

"That's fine, as long as you keep talking."

"Alfie took me to the Queen's Hotel. I had never been inside a hotel, and the lobby dazzled me. But I was disappointed in Alfie's employer. Alfie had said that he was titled, and I expected someone regal, but the man was as ordinary as they come. The kind of man you can't describe because he's so ordinary. The interview was ordinary, too. The man wasn't warm, and he wasn't cold. He was ... business-like. The man didn't introduce himself, but that didn't matter. I knew to address him as my Lord. The man asked my name but never used it. When he asked about my situation, I told him the truth, the same as I had told Alfie. Then he told me to wait in the hall. When Alfie finally joined me, he clapped me on the back. He told me that his employer would check my story, and then I would be hired. Meanwhile, Alfie and I were to have two whole days on our own in Leeds."

"That must have been fun."

"The man gave Alfie money, and Alfie paid for a room with two beds. We had a great time exploring shops and eating and going to the cinema. I had never been to the cinema. I remember we saw a film with men diving, one on a bicycle. The dives were played forward and backwards, and we thought it was hilarious. But no matter how much fun we had during the day, I cried at night for Mum. Alfie was terribly sweet about it and tried to comfort me. He was my first crush, you know. He kissed me once as we were leaving our room, and my heart beat so hard I thought I would pass out."

So Alfie was the first of his ill-advised love affairs, thought Bates. "Did the man check your story?"

"He certainly did. Alfie received a telegram telling him when to bring me to the hotel. When we arrived, Alfie waited for me in the lobby, and I walked up the stairs by myself. The man finally introduced himself: Theo Griffiths, Marquess of Northcott. Then he held up a contract for me to see. I recognized the signature immediately. It was my father's. Northcott told me that my father had indentured me to him for a period of 5 years for a hefty fee."

"Indentured? That's impossible!"

"If I would have read the contract, I would have seen that it was only a receipt and guarantee for one of my father's best longcase clocks. But as I said, I was stupid. Northcott told me that if I did not live up to the terms of the agreement then a court would rule that the contract had been breached, and I would be left in jail to rot. It was easy for me to believe that my father would sell me, but I wasn't worried. I had no intention of breaching the contract. Alfie seemed happy with his job. Why wouldn't I be happy too. Northcott told me that I would be paid a small wage, but rather than see me fritter it away as boys do, he would hold onto it for me until my contract expired."

"Was that the end of the interview?"

"No. Then Northcott said something that cut me to the quick. He said that he had located my sister and that she was ashamed of me for running away from my responsibilities. According to Northcott, she wanted nothing more to do with me. If that weren't enough, he said that if I breached my contract, then he would demand satisfaction from my father by insisting that my sister take my place. Before he dismissed me, he asked if I knew what French style was. I told him that I didn't, which was the truth, and he seemed satisfied. He said we would leave for Edenby after tea. That was his estate." Thomas turned to Bates. "I need more water."

Bates poured the water, and Thomas gazed at him while he sipped.

"French style means ..."

"I know what it means." Bates took the glass from Thomas.

"Oh. I thought perhaps you didn't because you're not ..."

"Let's finish this, Thomas."

"I don't want to."

"But you're so close."

Thomas drew up his knees. "I don't want to!"

"Remember why you're doing this. It's for your own well-being, Thomas. Tell me what happened when you arrived at Edenby."

Thomas stared at his legs. "When we arrived at the house, Alfie whispered to me to stay in the car until Northcott told me what to do. Alfie got out at the house with the chauffeur. Then Northcott took the wheel and drove us to an old barn. He told me it was my job to open the car door for him. I had seen footmen open car and carriage doors outside my father's shop, and I did my best to imitate them. Northcott told me that I was to spend the night there alone. He said that the barn was no longer in use, so no one would disturb me. He assured me that an old pump by the barn was in working order and promised to bring my breakfast in the morning. If my performance was satisfactory, then he would permit me to move into my room. I realized that this was one of his tests, but I had no idea what was required to pass. I followed Alfie's advice and didn't question or contradict or show emotion, not even when I realized that I would be going without supper."

Bates watched as Thomas hugged his legs with his good arm. He couldn't make sense of Thomas' story or this man, Northcott.

"Edenby was colder than Leeds, and I still didn't have a coat. I curled up in some mouldy straw and thought about the room I would have once I passed the test. There would be other boys and perhaps some good times to be had. And Alfie. I thought quite a bit about Alfie. I woke with the sun and cleaned myself up at the pump as best I could. I had my toothbrush in my pocket and brushed my teeth. When I heard the car, I stood at attention. When the car stopped, I was at the door and opened it with great finesse. I could see a basket on the passenger seat that I hoped held my breakfast. Northcott didn't leave the car. He told me that my clothes smelled to high heaven. He tossed me a half-loaf of bread from the basket and said he'd be back the same time tomorrow."

"What did you do?"

"I did what any pitiful thirteen-year-old would do. I ate the bread and cried for Mum to come save me. When the bread was gone, I made a plan. Before sunset, I would take off my clothes and wash them as best I could at the pump. Then I would sleep in my union suit and by morning my clothes would be dry. It was a cold night to sleep without clothes, but I managed it. The next morning was a repeat of the morning before. Northcott said he could smell my smalls right through my clothes. He threw me another half loaf of bread, but this time he threw me a bar of soap too."

"And you stayed?"

"I didn't believe I had a choice, John. Before sunset, I used the soap to wash all my clothes including my union suit, and I slept naked. I was shivering too hard to cry that night. As soon as the sun was up, I used the soap to wash myself and my hair at the pump. God that water was cold."

"Did you pass the test?"

"I assumed so when he told me to get in the car. Looking back, I can see that there was no test. He only wanted me to understand our relationship from the first day."

"Did you share a room with Alfie at the house?"

"No, I didn't sleep one night in that house while Northcott was alive."

"While he was alive?"

"He died a week after my seventeenth birthday. Choked on a grape at dinner."

"Jesus Christ! And that's when you came to Downton?"

"A few months later, after Alfie trained me to be a footman."

"We'd better stick to the subject, Thomas. Where did Northcott have you sleep?"

"He took me to a wooded cottage on the estate. Alfie told me later that Northcott's father had ordered it built for him as a 16th birthday present, and Northcott made regular improvements to it over the years. I was surprised by how modern the cottage was, but I was disappointed not to be living with Alfie and the other boys. Northcott showed me a clock on the mantle and warned me that I was to have a bath every night at 9.00 unless he instructed me otherwise. I would begin my regular duties in a couple of days and accompany Northcott most everywhere he went. I was relieved to hear that I wouldn't be confined to the cottage, and I wondered if I would be given livery like Alfie's. Northcott said he would return that night and promised to bring another basket of food with him."

"That doesn't seem so bad."

"No, it doesn't, does it? I ate breakfast from the basket, and the food was good. Alfie came and showed me how to find my way out of the woods. I was thrilled when he took me to be fitted for my livery, but mine was nothing like his. It was ridiculous. Something out of an illustrated fairy book that made me look like a child. It was embarrassing. Alfie told me to be patient and learn everything I could, and someday I would have a livery like his."

"He was right about that."

"I suppose. Alfie packed a hamper with necessities and walked back to the cottage with me. He showed me how to make up a bed and brew a proper pot of tea and how to prepare Northcott's bath and set out his shaving things and a dozen other things I didn't know. He warned me that he couldn't come back to the cottage, but he was certain I would manage very well. Then he kissed me sweetly and was gone. I examined my room and found a hiding spot for Mum's hair and ring. I wondered how I was ever going to give the ring to Flossie if she wanted nothing more to do with me. I hoped that Northcott had misunderstood her or that she couldn't see past her grief for Mum. She would get over that."

"It was a lie, wasn't it, her never wanting to see you?"

"Yes."

"Did Northcott come back to the cottage that night?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"He brought the basket of food he had promised. John, I ... "

"Keep talking, Thomas."

"He said that Alfie would take me shopping the next day for pyjamas and whatever else I needed. Then he asked if I had taken my bath at 9.00, and I had. John, I can't do this."

"Yes you can. What happened next?"

"He told me to prepare his bath, and I did, exactly as Alfie had shown me." Thomas' breathing became laboured. "When he was done, he ... gave me instruction."

"Instruction in what?"

"French style. He reminded me that if I breached my contract then my sister would be obliged to take my place."

"That bastard."

"I had to do what he asked of me. You can see that, can't you, John?"

Bates felt sick. "Of course I can. You were protecting your little sister. Did Northcott leave you alone after that?"

"No! He ... he told me ... he ordered me to ..." Thomas bolted from the bed.

"Thomas, don't!" pleaded Bates as he struggled to right himself on Thomas' side of the bed. "You're so close!"

Thomas ran into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Thomas, please come out." Bates heard Thomas mutter something unintelligible. "Thomas, I can't understand you. I'm opening the door." Bates turned the knob, but the door was latched. Then he heard Thomas retching. "Are you all right? I didn't mean to make you sick. I'm sorry, Pooh!" Defeated, Bates collapsed against the wall. I've humiliated him ... and for what?

Eventually the bathroom door opened, and Thomas emerged, limp and pale. He walked slowly to the bed and sat.

"I'm sorry, Pooh. I'm not a psychologist. I had no idea what I was doing. I never should have attempted such a thing after what you suffered this week ..."

"John, be quiet!"

Bates leaned against the wall, uncertain how to make things better. He saw Thomas pull the sheet over his chest. "Pooh, you're shivering."

"It's the fan."

Bates aimed the fan away from the bed. "Shall I open the drapes?"

"I think you'd better, or we'll suffocate."

Bates opened the drapes, forcing both men to blink against the midday sun.

Thomas lay back in the bed. "I need to sleep for a few more hours."

"I should too." Bates hesitated. "Do you want me to sleep in the dressing room?"

Thomas shrugged.

Bates knew what that meant. "I'd feel better sleeping in here. You may need something. You don't mind, do you?"

"No."

Bates returned to his side of the bed, and Thomas lifted the sheet for him. The two men lay side-by-side in silence.

"John ...?"

"Mmm?"

"I want you to know that you weren't wrong."

"No? I'm not so certain."

"No, John, you weren't. I need to finish the story. Someday. Not today."

"You're in charge, Pooh."

"You pity me, don't you? That's more than I can bear."

"It's not pity I feel. I wonder at your strength. When I was thirteen, I was a commis boy at a fancy London restaurant and lived with my parents. If a waiter said a cross word to me, I'd complain to my mother that I'd been misused. I don't know if I could have managed in your situation."

"John ...?"

"Mmm?"

"The next day ... the next day I told Alfie what happened."

Bates turned towards Thomas and could see his face twisted with the effort to contain his emotion. "What did he say?"

"He said that nothing like that ever happened when he was Northcott's page. He said that there must be something different about me that made it happen."

"The only thing different about you was your innocence, Pooh."

"You mean my stupidity!" A small cry slipped from Thomas' mouth before he could pull it back.

"I don't want to hear you speak that way about my little brother again," chided Bates softly. "Do you understand?"

Thomas nodded.

"Come here, Pooh."

"I'm not an infant."

"No, you're not. You're my little brother and always will be. Come here."

"I can't."

"No? Then I'll come to you." Bates slid closer and slipped his hand under Thomas' neck. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, but I'm here now." Thomas rolled towards Bates, and Bates pulled him close, being careful of his injured arm. "It's time to let young Thomas have his cry, Pooh."

"I'm not crying," Thomas answered weakly. He pressed his face to Bates' neck, and his body quaked as the old grief forced its way to the surface.

Bates instinctively responded as he did when Timothy was upset. "I know, Pooh, I know," he repeated sympathetically as he stroked Thomas' hair. As the sobs faded, Bates kissed Thomas' cheek and lightly tickled his back until he was asleep. My poor wounded boy. You'll have to speak the end of your tale to find peace. Some day. Not today.