2

Mrs Patmore wiped her hands on a tea towel as she surveyed her kitchen. The room was almost empty, with the rest of the staff all attending to their duties. Smiling, she relished these times alone. Picking up her favourite mixing bowl she headed towards the pantry knowing exactly what the evening meal would consist of.

"Mrs Patmore." She turned as she heard Mr Carson call her name. A dark haired man stood beside him looking nervous.

"Hello Mr Carson. Who is this?"

"Mrs Patmore, I'd like you to meet our new footman. This is Dafydd Evans. Joins us from an estate in North Wales."

"Wales? Lovely place. I dare say you'll settle in. Mr Carson and Mr Barrow will look after you." She smiled. "I'm going to visit Anna and the baby after luncheon. I'll be less than an hour."

"Very well." Carson sighed. "Dafydd is joining us tomorrow."

"Welcome lovely. Now if you don't mind I need to get on." She walked away as Carson ushered the young man out of the kitchen. Dafydd looked around, clearly nervous around the older man.

"You've met Mrs Carson, His Lordship and Mr Bates."

"Yes, Mr Carson." Dafydd nodded as they walked along the stone walked corridor.

"That just leaves Mr Barrow. The butler."

"But I thought you were the butler."

"I am." Carson paused. "Mr Barrow is also a butler here. I'm the senior butler." He paused. "My function is to advice and support the more junior members of the household."

"Like a favourite uncle?"

Carson smiled at the analogy.

"If you will. Ah, Mr Barrow." Carson called across the hallway to where Thomas was walking back into the main house. Thomas nodded and smiled slightly, remembering his promise to Baxter that he would endeavour to be a better man. The young blonde man caught his eye.

"Mr Carson. Who do we have here?"

"Thomas Barrow, this is our new footman. Dafydd Evans. Joining us from Prestatyn."

"Welcome to Downton." Thomas smiled. He instantly liked the Welshman. His dark blue eyes caught him by surprise and for a moment he could barely bring himself to look away. Dafydd smiled back, clearly happy with what he saw.

"Diolch." He shook himself. "I mean, thank you." Thomas smiled, the lyrical welsh accent amusing him. "The Hughes family spoke Welsh a lot of the time. It's habit."

"Using ones mother tongue is not a habit and should never be apologised for." Carson stated firmly. "Welsh is a beautiful language."

"Indeed it is. Although, I won't pretend to understand a word of it." Thomas smiled. "I hope you enjoy your time here." He turned before heading into the Great Hall where Mrs Hughes was preparing the flowers. Carson lead the new boy away, towards the servants quarters so that he could begin to settle in.

"Thomas!" Mrs Hughes smiled. "Och, you gave me a wee start."

"Sorry." He paused. "I must get on."

"As must I." She regarded him for a moment. "Are you well?"

"May I ask you something?" He paused as she nodded. "It may seem a foolish thing to ask but how many people know about my attempt at. At what I did?"

"Myself, Carson, Mr Moseley, Miss Baxter and Lady Mary." She watched as he closed his eyes. "I believe Mrs Patmore has an idea that something happened. None of us went into detail. The staff know that you were unwell and that you had treatment."

"The scars on my wrists."

"Are barely visible." She smiled at him. "I can't begin to understand what led you to that dark place but I know that once your spirit has hit the floor the only way is the sky." He nodded once before turning away from her.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes."

"Oh Thomas, you've done some things I've not and cannot condone but." She paused. "You were twelve years old when you came here. A little scrap of a thing. I've watched you grow, I've watched you, Anna, Daisy and Tom all grow into fine people. But you've seen the error in what you've done and you've fought the devil himself to become the man you are. I couldn't be prouder of you than if you were my own son." She squeezed him arm. "Don't dwell on the past, you'll find doing so ruins the future." He nodded, eyes filled with tears.

"I."

"Go on now, we both have work to do." She turned back to her flowers as he slipped out the room.

Xxxxxxcc

"Miss Sybil Branson! What are you doing?" Tom laughed as his only child giggled. The little girl was as mischievous as her late mother had been. Tom sighed, knowing that every day he saw more of his late wife in the girl than he had ever thought possible.

"Marigold did it!"

"Did not!" Marigold laughed. Tom rolled his eyes as George pulled a face before running across to the rocking horse.

"Oh!" Sybbie giggled. "George!"

"Not I!" The little boy laughed.

"Ok, so not Miss Marigold." Tom watched his daughter. "And not Master George." Sybbie giggled uncontrollably. "Then it must be Miss Sybil Branson."

"Yes!"

"It must be Miss Sybil Branson that has not put her dolls away!" Sybbie laughed as Cora walked into the room.

"They remind me so much of Mary and Sybil at that age."

"I miss her." Tom paused. "Everyday I miss her."

"I know." Cora smiled. "I do too. She'd be so proud of you and Sybie. I know I am. But don't be afraid to be happy, Tom." She scooped Marigold up in her arms. "Never be afraid to be happy."

Xxxxxxx

A/N please review