AN: Hello my dear readers. The story continues with Emma Barrow. I'm sorry it took a bit longer. I've been enjoying the last beautiful rays of sunshine and had a few things to take care of here and there. First of all, I'd like to thank you all for your comments. I always enjoy reading your opinion and how you think the story will continue. Feel free to write down your ideas and suggestions. I'll try to incorporate them when the time is right. You think it's a brilliant idea to bring Bates into the story as Emma's rescuer. I thought so too, but will everyone see it that way? Do you think Emma should tell her father about the incident?
Emma was relieved when Mr. Green finally departed. Yet every time the name Lord Gillingham was mentioned, Emma's ears perked up, and she listened intently. Surely, he wasn't planning on visiting Downton again, was he? Emma wanted to spend the few remaining days of her summer holidays without worry. She just wanted to be with her Downton Abbey servant-family. The hope that her father would arrive in time for the competition dwindled with each passing day as the first week of school crept closer.
The servants' hall was bathed in warm, dim light flickering from the small wall lamps. It was late in the evening, and most of the staff were either in their rooms or busy in the kitchen. Emma sat on one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace, a book resting on her lap. Across from her, Mrs. Baxter—Phyllis—had made herself comfortable, ready to help Emma with her reading.
Emma began to read aloud from her chosen book, ‚Anne of Green Gables': "Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a hollow, fringed with alders and ladies'..." Emma's voice was calm and clear, and she made an effort to bring the characters to life, just as her dad always did.
Mrs. Baxter listened attentively, a reassuring smile on her face. She knew how important this competition was for Emma. She nodded from time to time when Emma read a passage particularly well, offering quiet tips on how she could add even more expression to her voice.
Emma briefly looked up when she heard a rustle. It was Jimmy, who walked in, glanced around, and raised an eyebrow as he noticed the book in Emma's hands. He reluctantly sat down in one of the free chairs, propping his head up with his hand and staring ahead, looking bored as Emma continued to read.
"And as the great red sun sank slowly behind the dark firs, Anne clasped her hands together and cried, 'Oh, how beautiful! I've never seen anything like that sunset before!'"
Jimmy pulled a face. "What nonsense. It's a total girls' book," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Emma paused and looked at him, her brow slightly furrowed. Mrs. Baxter shot him a stern look, but before she could say anything, Jimmy wrinkled his nose and stood up. "I'd rather go to bed," he said disdainfully and left the room quickly, without a backward glance.
Emma sighed quietly and looked back at her book. Mrs. Baxter placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Boys. Don't let him get to you, Emma," she said gently. "He doesn't understand what a beautiful story this is. Keep reading, you're doing wonderfully."
Emma smiled faintly and resumed reading, this time with even more emotion in her voice, determined to convey the beauty of the story, no matter what Jimmy thought.
In the corner of the room sat Daisy. She had been silently listening since Emma's first word, completely absorbed in the story. The vivid descriptions of Anne's dreams and adventures had captivated her. But suddenly, an almost angry voice called out, "Daisy! Where are you? You haven't baked the bread for tomorrow yet!" Daisy flinched, hurriedly got up, and gave Emma an apologetic look. "You read beautifully, Emma," she whispered before rushing off to help in the kitchen.
Emma watched her leave for a moment, then smiled, encouraged by Daisy's words. She turned back to Mrs. Baxter and continued her reading, more determined than ever. The servants' hall grew quiet once more. Emma lost herself again in the world of Green Gables, her voice sometimes soft, sometimes full of enthusiasm as she narrated Anne Shirley's vivid imaginations and grand dreams. Mrs. Baxter listened patiently, and when Emma finally finished the chapter, she laid the book aside and looked at Mrs. Baxter with a satisfied smile.
"That was wonderful, Emma," Mrs. Baxter said, her eyes full of pride. "You're going to ace that competition. I know it."
Emma felt happy and relieved. "Thank you, Phyllis," she replied softly.
"You should get some rest. It's late, and the garden bazaar is tomorrow," Mrs. Baxter suggested. Emma nodded, said her goodnight, and stood a little uncertainly before the woman who knew her mama and dad so well. Gathering her courage, Emma wrapped her arms around Phyllis's neck—just a small hug—before letting go.
"Goodnight, Emma," Mrs. Baxter smiled, surprised by the girl's gesture.
As Emma left the servants' hall, Mr. Molesley entered. Emma hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but as so often happened, she found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time—this time behind the door to the servants' hall. And since Mr. Molesley didn't fully close the door, she could hear every word.
"You've surely noticed by now that we aren't particularly fond of Mr. Barrow, which may have hurt you," said Mr. Molesley, his voice quiet but firm.
"I'm not hurt by it," replied Mrs. Baxter calmly, her words almost toneless, as though she wanted the conversation to end as quickly as possible.
Emma couldn't quite grasp what Mr. Molesley was getting at. She had known since she was young that the servants weren't particularly close to her father, but to this day, she didn't understand why. Her dad was a great, caring man.
"But I wish you'd give us a chance to get to know you a bit more," Mr. Molesley continued, his voice gentle and almost concerned. Emma couldn't see Mrs. Baxter's reaction, but she imagined her shaking her head slightly.
Hearing footsteps approaching the door, Emma quickly turned and quietly hurried up the stairs before anyone could discover her.
It was a bright summer day, and the garden of Downton Abbey was glowing in all its splendor. People were everywhere, attending the annual garden party. Small stalls offered delicious treats, there were games for young and old, and colorful garlands adorned the trees.
In the midst of the bustle, Emma and her best friend Ruby strolled arm in arm through the crowd. Their faces were flushed with excitement, and they laughed about everything and nothing. For the two girls, the garden party was the highlight of the summer—a day when they could run around freely, eat sweets, and have endless fun.
They stopped by a cotton candy stall, and Ruby bought herself an enormous pink cloud of spun sugar, nearly the size of her face. "That's the biggest cotton candy I've ever seen!" said Emma, impressed, as Ruby took a huge bite and stuffed the sticky treat into her mouth.
"Try some!" Ruby said, laughing, offering a piece to Emma, who eagerly grabbed it.
"Hmm, it tastes like pink clouds!" Emma said. The two girls wandered on, their hands sticky from the cotton candy, but they didn't care. Eventually, they found themselves at a small stall offering various games. "Shall we try the ring toss?" Emma asked, pointing at the colorful rings people were trying to throw onto bottle necks.
"Definitely!" Ruby exclaimed, immediately grabbing one of the rings. "But I bet I'm better than you!"
Emma accepted the challenge and grabbed a ring as well. Both girls took their positions and focused. Ruby threw first, but her ring bounced off the bottle neck and fell to the side. "Oh no!" she cried dramatically, placing a hand on her forehead as if she might faint from disappointment.
Emma bit her lip in concentration, aimed, and threw—her ring landed with a satisfying click over the bottle. "Ha!" she shouted triumphantly, jumping into the air. "I did it!"
Ruby laughed and clapped her hands. "You're really good, Emma! But just wait, next time I'll get it."
It was Anna who interrupted the cheerful afternoon, pulling Emma aside while Ruby continued to play with Simon and Brian.
"He can't hurt us anymore," Anna said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes darted nervously around them, even though they knew that everyone else was too absorbed in the garden party to notice. The atmosphere was dense, almost oppressive, but Emma didn't feel fear; instead, she felt a strange relief that she hadn't expected.
"He's dead—Mr. Green—he died in an accident."
Emma stared at Anna in silence, her thoughts in turmoil. Normally, such news would deeply affect Emma, and the loss of a life, no matter how distant, often left her in tears. But the news of Mr. Green's death was different. There was no sadness, no pain—only relief.
"So... I don't have to be afraid anymore?" Emma finally asked, her eyes seeking confirmation.
"No, Emma," Anna said gently. "Never again."
Emma felt her shoulders relax, as if an invisible burden she hadn't even been aware of had finally been lifted. She no longer had to fear the man whose mere presence had cast a suffocating darkness over the house. She would no longer creep through the corridors, afraid of encountering him.
"That's good," Emma said at last, her own voice surprising her. It wasn't the kind of response she would usually give, but it was the truth. A part of her felt guilty for feeling this way—for the relief she felt despite a life being lost. Yet another part of her, deep within, felt that this relief was justified.
Anna looked at her with a gentle but sad smile. "It's okay to feel that way," she said softly, as if she could read Emma's inner thoughts. "It's not easy to have such feelings, but... we are free now."
"Dad!" Emma called out excitedly as she dashed past Lord Grantham and Mr. Bates. When she threw herself into her father's arms, Thomas seemed momentarily overwhelmed but quickly embraced her tightly. The hug was warm and familiar, and Emma visibly enjoyed the moment. She breathed in the comforting smoky scent of her father.
"Did you miss me, my little dwarf?" Thomas teased, noticing that Emma didn't want to let go. He gently stroked her back as she clung to him.
Emma considered for a moment whether to tell her father about Mr. Green—the man who had threatened her—but decided against it. Mr. Green was dead now, and mentioning him would only stir up unnecessary worries. Instead, she hastily wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself. With a brief shake of her head and a shy smile, she said, "I just wanted to see if you brought me something." Her voice was a little sniffly, but she tried to hide how much she was looking forward to her father's return.
Thomas grinned and made a playful face. "A lot of luggage that needs to be carried upstairs," he said, pointing to the bags being unloaded from the car. But when he saw the look on his daughter's face, his smile faded, and he grew serious. "Is everything really okay?"
Emma nodded. "I'm glad you're here... just in time for the competition!" She gave him a slightly strained smile. The events of the past days and weeks still weighed on her, but knowing that the man who had caused so much distress was no longer around made it easier to look forward. And suddenly, she was actually excited about the upcoming competition
"Ah, my little dwarf really did miss me," Thomas remarked with amusement, seeing the genuine joy in his daughter's eyes. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Maybe just a little," she agreed, feeling the kiss and absorbing the familiar comfort it provided.
Thomas pulled several comic books from his travel bag. ‚The American Girl' was printed on the cover. "I heard that all the girls your age are reading this in America." Emma beamed. She was now the proud owner of an American comic book. "Thank you, Daddy! But I think I'd better go back to my friends now, because you yourself said I'm too young to work!"
"You listened well," Thomas chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Go and have fun."
Emma turned and ran back into the garden, where Ruby, Simon, and Brian were waiting for her.
Emma stood with Ruby at the ice cream cart, waiting patiently as Ruby decided on her flavor. The two girls were engrossed in their own conversation when Thomas approached them. A cigarette in hand, his eyes were alert, as if he was on the lookout for something.
"Have you figured out why I was supposed to come along on the trip?" Thomas asked with a hint of curiosity and insistence in his voice. He had asked Miss Baxter earlier, but as usual with sensitive topics, she hadn't provided any helpful answers. Mr. Molesley had also interrupted, abruptly ending the conversation. Now he hoped Emma could provide him with more information.
Emma, licking her chocolate ice cream, looked at her father. Her gaze was slightly surprised, but she had long known that her father rarely let go of such matters easily. Fortunately, Ruby was too preoccupied with ordering her own ice cream to overhear their conversation.
"Personal reasons," Emma replied casually. She knew Thomas wasn't easily satisfied, but she had learned not to reveal everything immediately.
"What reasons exactly?" Thomas asked, his gaze intense as he took a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled in the warm air, and his impatience grew. He liked to have all the information and not miss anything. The thought of something happening at Downton without his knowledge made him uneasy.
Emma sighed softly. "John didn't want to leave his wife, and you got the unique opportunity to see New York," she explained calmly.
Thomas's eyes narrowed as he watched Emma speak so nonchalantly about ‚John,' as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The word ‚disaster' pounded in his head. His daughter, his little girl, in the hands of Mister Bates? It couldn't be true. He took a deep drag from his cigarette.
„John?", Thomas stated.
Emma looked at her father calmly, but there was a hint of challenge in her gaze. "That's Mr. Bates's first name," she said, taking another bite of her ice cream.
"I know," Thomas replied, but the confusion in his voice revealed that he wanted more. "Why do you call him by his first name?"
Emma shrugged. "Because he offered it. I stayed with Anna and John at their cottage for a few days."
"You stayed with them?" he asked slowly and carefully, as if weighing each word. "Why?"
Emma shrugged again, casually wiping the sticky ice crystals from her fingers. "I was bored. John and Anna listened to me read."
Thomas stared at Emma as if she had just told him the world was ending. "Bates? He helped you with reading?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Emma, Bates... he..." He trailed off, unsure how to choose his words. How could he explain that he couldn't stand John Bates and didn't want his daughter associating with this man? John Bates was the reason he hadn't gotten his desired position as a valet and had spent years as a footman instead.
"What about him?" Emma finally asked, clearly sensing her father's displeasure. She frowned slightly but looked curious at the same time. "He was very kind to me, Dad. And honestly, I don't understand what you have against him."
Thomas took a deep breath and slowly exhaled the smoke to buy some time. "It's... complicated," he began cautiously. "In any case, I don't want you staying at their cottage."
Emma studied her father thoughtfully. "But he was kind to me. Besides, Anna has taken care of me for years. She's like a real mother to me."
Thomas threw his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out. He then leaned slightly forward, his eyes fixed on Emma. "I forbid you from spending time at the Bates' cottage. And Anna is certainly not like your mother!"
Before the conversation could continue, Ruby came running up with her large ice cream cone. "Emma, the strewberry ice cream is amazing!" she called out, gently tugging on Emma's arm. Emma smiled apologetically at her father and let Ruby pull her away, while Thomas watched them go.