In the beginning, Jimmy had spent most of his days in an agony of terror that someone would think him mentally deficient and take him away somewhere, but as time went on the fear lessened. Jimmy would have liked to have had a proper friend, someone to confide in, like Luke, who had told Jimmy about women and when to laugh and how to ask people questions about themselves so they would like you. He was happy here, though; the people at Downton were nice.

Mrs Patmore often pulled a handful of dough from the loaf, and cooked it separately to make Jimmy a small, tough roll to chew on because she knew how much he liked it. Mr Carson continued to view him with slight suspicion, but since Jimmy did his job as well as any other footman he accepted Jimmy's tendency to miss his sarcasm and his peculiar (in Mr Carson's eyes) hatred of the carpet in the drawing room (it made such a painful noise when stepped on).

Alfred seemed to enjoy sharing a secret with Jimmy, despite the potentially dangerous nature of it, and once he had come to terms with his decision to lie to his aunt he became a good workmate to Jimmy. Not to say that they were quite friends, but they made a good team even when they were pushed by extra guests or a course more than usual.

Jimmy made himself happy, too. He had gained two beautifully textured wine glasses from Mrs Hughes when several others in the set had been broken, and watched the rainbow patterns they made on the floor at the right time of day. He played cards in the servants' hall when everyone was relaxed, and sometimes played against the others - usually Alfred or Ivy.

One autumn day, the fair came to Thirsk. Alfred persuaded Jimmy to go along with all the others, "or I'll be stuck with Mr Barrow!", but Jimmy wasn't looking forward to it very much. The last time he had been to the fair Luke had had to pull him away to the field next door, where he hid away from the noise, smells and people until he had calmed down enough to go home. There was just too much of everything; too many bright lights and shouting stallholders, screaming children and movement everywhere.

"I hope things won't be awkward between you and Mr Barrow today," Alfred said as they were setting out the silverware. "Only I know things have been a bit tense between you and I don't want you to spoil it."

"Nothing's tense," Jimmy said. "We're fine."

"Funny thing is, you hardly give him the time of day and he won't hear a bad word about you."

Jimmy began to panic. "What have I done?"

"I only meant he won't hear anyone speak against you."

"Why are you having a go at me then? We're fine."

"Well, he gets all quiet and snappy if you're short with him."

"Does he?"

"Well, I suppose he wouldn't with you," Alfred conceded. "But we have to deal with him, and I'd sooner not if we're to have a good day, if you take my meaning. So, just be civil with him, is all I'm asking."

Even from half a mile away, Jimmy could hear the music and shouting of the fair. He fought not to show his discomfort, and even managed to help win the tug-of-war amid shouting onlookers, but after collecting his winnings he had to walk away with his hands over his ears.

Beer, he decided, was the way to deal with this, so he bought himself (and, it felt like, half the fairground) a pint or three, before making his way around the rest of the stalls. The noise bothered him a lot less when he was tipsy; he was calmer, and the noise seemed to filter through to him more gently, as if through water.

He spotted Daisy and Ivy at one of the stalls and bought them a go, but didn't trust his aim enough to try himself.

Jimmy stuck around for as long as he could stand it, but after a couple of hours he had to get away. He went for a quiet walk, and away from the staring eyes he let himself flap his hands to help calm down. Stressful, stressful, stressful, he thought. How could people enjoy that?

As he crossed the footbridge, Jimmy spotted the dark cave-like area created by the curve of the underside of the roadbridge. It looked like a good place to sit for a while, so he did so, and rocked a little in the calming dark with his eyes closed as he listened to the birds. He hummed, quietly, a long, droning note to soothe his ears.

"What the hell's wrong with you, you halfwit?" came a voice, and immediately Jimmy stilled, though every instinct in him was screaming to rock - he was just too afraid to show his natural responses. He could feel his heart pounding hard enough to jump out of his mouth. He forced himself to his feet as his throat closed up. Movement on the other side of the bridge. Could hardly breathe. Voices, hands on him, bodies too close, heart bursting, world pressing in. Shouting. Let go.

Mr Barrow. He shouted something at Jimmy but Jimmy could not understand, so he just ran, because he needed to move and he needed to get away and because Mr Barrow was being hurt and Jimmy could not help on his own.

He ran for the doctor, but once he had led him to the bridge Jimmy stayed back. He did not know how much Mr Barrow had seen, and he had not been so obviously… abnormal in the whole time he had been at Downton - not outside the safety of his room, in any case.

He paced, a more acceptable but less effective way of letting out his feelings, as the doctor looked at Mr Barrow. Mr Barrow, who had got hurt because of Jimmy. Luke had said that was a way of showing love, to let yourself be hurt instead of someone else. He said there were loads of ways of doing it, but Jimmy had never quite understood him until now.

Jimmy wanted to help him, but he didn't know how.