1920 (Continued)

Thomas wondered absently if dying would hurt but knew any pain would be over quickly, or so he hoped. He thought about saying a prayer first and decided against it. God didn't hear the prayers of men like him. After tightening the noose snugly around his neck, he began rocking the chair beneath his feet. With a final kick, he sent it clattering to the floor. He was immediately aware of a tremendous pressure on his throat which cut off his airway. He soon began to lose consciousness and didn't hear the sound of his door being thrown open. Suddenly, there was a powerful arm around his legs holding him up, and the chair was put upright for him to stand on. "Don't move," a man's voice ordered. The rope went slack as the person untied the other end before finally closing the door.

Thomas was coughing and gasping for air as he slipped off the noose. There was an angry, red welt starting around his throat as he lowered himself unsteadily to the floor. He turned to face his rescuer and burst into tears. "You should have let me go." He dropped down on his bed, his head in his hands, and wept bitterly. After several minutes, the sobs began to subside, and he looked up to see John Bates staring pityingly down at him with the rope in one hand and his stick in the other. The sight made Thomas angry. "Don't you dare feel sorry for me."

"Thomas—"

"That's Mr. Barrow to you," he replied with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. He laughed mirthlessly. "How you must be enjoying this."

Bates' expression didn't change. "Why did you do it?"

"Why ask? You don't care."

"It's true we've not been friends, but that doesn't mean I want you dead. So why did you do it?" he repeated.

"Why not? What have I got to live for?" Thomas answered despondently, rubbing his neck. "I've lost my job here, and without a reference, I won't be able to find another."

The valet nodded an understanding. "If this position hadn't come along when it did, I would have ended up in the workhouse."

"What?"

Bates fixed him with a look of irritation. "Who do you think wants a convicted thief working in their home? I thank God every day for my place at Downton Abbey." He then returned to his previous line of questioning. "Was that the only reason?"

"I'm tired of being alone." It was a painfully honest admission, but at that moment Thomas was incapable of dissembling.

"But you're not alone. You're surrounded by people who would care about you if you gave them a chance."

"Not someone like me. You see how they are."

"It might surprise you to learn that we all accepted your 'difference' long ago. Any problems you have with the people here have nothing to do with that and are all of your own doing."

Barrow felt uncomfortable and changed the subject. "How did you know what I was planning to do?"

"I had a feeling that something was terribly wrong. I guess it was seeing you with the rope earlier."

"How did you get in?"

"The back door was unlocked, but I would have woken the entire household if I needed to."

"Why?" Thomas was genuinely puzzled.

"Because I've been where you are. I know what it's like to feel hopeless. There were many times in prison when I considered taking my own life."

"What stopped you?"

"Anna."

Thomas looked down at the floor. "I don't have someone like that."

"What about Jimmy?"

Barrow was caught off guard. "I thought he—cared for me, but I was wrong." The tears were threatening to fall again. "He hates me now."

"He doesn't hate you. He's just afraid of what people will think of him. Give it time."

"But I don't have time, do I?" Thomas reminded him. "I'll be leaving soon."

Bates moved toward the door. "I should get back to the cottage. Anna will be wondering where I am." He seemed uncertain about leaving Barrow alone. "Will you be alright now? Why don't you come home with me? You can sleep on the sofa, and we'll all walk back together in the morning."

Thomas was surprised by the offer but shook his head. "No, I'll be fine here."

"Well, you should know I've taken your razor. I'll give it back tomorrow if you're feeling calmer. You're not planning to throw yourself off the roof, are you?" Bates asked only half‑jokingly.

The idea had never occurred to Thomas. He managed a weak grin. "And make all that mess for some poor sod to clean up?"

John smiled slightly at that.

"You won't tell anyone what I did—not even Anna," the younger man implored. "I couldn't stand the way they'd look at me."

"I'm not going to say a word, and we will find a way out of this. I promise." He turned and opened the door.

Thomas was curious. "Why are you helping me?"

Bates looked back and smiled again. "Get some sleep, Mr. Barrow." And with that, he was gone.

The next day, John and Anna returned to the Abbey for breakfast. Thomas had told Alfred that he wouldn't be down. While dressing Lord Grantham, Bates related the situation with Jimmy to the Earl who was surprised but not unsympathetic. Then he continued up to the attic and knocked on Thomas' door. The man sitting on the bed that morning bore little resemblance to the one from the night before. He showed no sign of emotion; his voice and facial expression were flat. John hated to see him so spiritless. "There must be something you know about Miss O'Brien that you can use against her?"

"You've heard of the phrase 'to know when you're beaten?' Well, I'm beaten, Mr. Bates. I'm well and truly beaten."

John was losing patience. "Then give me the weapon, and I'll do the work. What can I say that will make her change her mind?"

Thomas looked up, and Bates saw a tiny ray of hope growing in his eyes.

Her Ladyship's soap. Later, Bates whispered those three words into Miss O'Brien's ear. The strange turn of phrase meant nothing to him, but it seemed to do the trick. Jimmy withdrew his objection to Thomas being given a reference when he left, and everything now seemed set fair for the future. However, Lord Grantham was loath to part with the house's best cricketer and insisted that he be kept on in some capacity. So Thomas was appointed to the newly created position of underbutler, much to Bates' dismay, as Barrow now ranked above him.

Thomas settled quickly into his new job, determined to put his suicide attempt behind him, but he would often catch Bates studying him as if to detect some subtle sign that he was planning to try again. This irritated him until finally he snapped, "I don't need a guardian angel, thank you." The fragile truce existing between the two men dissolved after that, and things soon reverted to the way they had always been. Barrow was angry rather than grateful knowing he owed his livelihood and, indeed, his very life to a man he had plotted against and set out to ruin. It made him feel both guilty and ashamed.

He told himself that everything was fine now, but deep down he knew it wasn't true. Despite his self‑contained outward appearance, he remained lonely and isolated. He was still very much in love with Jimmy, but even a year later, things remained awkward between them. It wasn't until Barrow saved him from a beating at the Thirsk fair that they managed to forge an uneasy friendship. It was enough, or so Thomas told himself. The years passed, and after being caught in the bed of one of the guests, Jimmy was forced to leave Downton. Once again, Thomas was alone, and he found himself sliding deeper into depression.

Then one day while flicking through the London magazine, he chanced upon an advertisement featuring a man and woman gazing longingly into each other's eyes. He didn't know why it caught his attention. Maybe it was the enigmatic headline, "Choose Your Own Path." As he began to read, his eyes grew bright with excitement. Was it possible? Could there really be a way to rid him of his homosexuality and make him like other men? He knew he needed to find out more and hurried off to telephone.