The last chapter for this year. Thank you all! Thanks for reading the story and commenting. It truly delights me and motivates me to keep writing. I wish you lots of fun with the chapter and a happy new Year! Have a great start to the new year!
Bates looked down at the girl with empathy. Until just now, he had been glad to finally get rid of Thomas, but suddenly it felt wrong to take away a job from a single father and the home from a young child.
"I'm sure you don't have to leave Downton," he said confidently. Both Mrs. Hughes and his wife would ensure that Emma always had a home at Downton Abbey.
"But..." Emma hesitated for a second, "I'm staying with my dad. No matter where we move, I won't leave my dad alone."
"I hope Thomas appreciates that," doubted Bates, wondering why the girl sided with Thomas. Thomas was far from being a good father. What did he do for the child? Mr. Molesley helped Emma with her homework. Anna provided support and guidance to the child. Daisy enjoyed playing with her, while Mrs. Hughes educated the child, and Mrs. Patmore taught her the basics of cooking and baking. What exactly did Thomas do in her life?
"He's not what you think," Emma said.
Bates sighed. Children seemed to see only the good in everyone. "Do you know who's behind all this?" he asked, and Emma answered with a nod.
"There once was a footman.. he tried everything to get rid of the new valet," Mr. Bates began telling the events of the past in a story. What he didn't expect was that Emma would interrupt him,
"You mean the now evil valet. He didn't drive away the old shady valet; he wanted to find a way for him to leave because otherwise, the little princess is in danger."
"The shady valet," Bates repeated, puzzled.
Emma nodded, "He tried to take the job away from the now evil valet, so he had to act because he had to stay close to the princess."
"I understand," Bates said, "What would the little princess do if she found out that the now evil valet lost his job because of... you know..."
"The giant footman and the nasty maid?" Emma interjected before realizing the implication. The story she believed to be invented all these years turned out to be true. The stories within the story were not made up but actually happened.
The 8-year-old gathered herself, took several deep breaths before rising from the floor, "Thank you, Mr. Bates."
Emma decided to go back into the shared bedroom. Her dad was now sitting in the armchair with a book in his hand. "Did you let Isis out?" he asked. Emma nodded.
"For someone in the rain, you look pretty dry," he remarked. Emma held her breath. Her lie was pointless. Why hadn't she thought of the typical British persistent rain and just stood briefly in the backyard?
"You didn't walk Isis, and you haven't done any of your tasks. I can tell when someone is lying." Placing his book on the nightstand, he observed his child's tense posture closely.
Thomas sighed, "What happened? You know you can talk to me about anything." By ‚anything' Thomas mainly meant the gossip and rumors in Downton. Adults often forget that a child is present or consciously listening to conversations. Fortunately, his daughter had a true talent for eavesdropping.
"Simon is not allowed to play anymore. Since his little sister arrived, he has to take care of the other siblings now," Thomas rolled his eyes. Emma's classmates' lives didn't interest him at all.
"When I say 'what happened,' I don't mean your friends' lives, but why you have a red cheek as if someone slapped you and a bruised wrist as if someone grabbed you."
Holding her breath, her mouth half-open, Emma considered her next move. Lying to her father made no sense, but telling him the truth was equally ineffective. Thomas would just go angrily to O'Brien, Alfred, and Jimmy, creating more problems than necessary.
"I'm waiting for an explanation."
Emma still stood directly in front of the door. She could just walk out and return late in the evening when Thomas was already asleep, then hide under her beloved blanket. Her father's blue-gray eyes scrutinized her relentlessly. He wouldn't rest until he knew the truth, and she was truly the worst liar of all time. Or maybe her dad was just the world's best lie detector.
"I was disobedient. I said something I had no right to say."
"Whether you were disobedient or not is still for me to decide. But the fact that someone found a reason to grab and hit you suggests that you didn't say something nice, did you?"
"Manipulative bitter old ugly witch with the appearance of an inflated porcupine."
"What?" an puzzled look met her. Obviously, he hadn't expected such a statement. And Emma was sure that Thomas was considering whether to laugh.
"That's what I said."
"I can vividly imagine her, like the inflated porcupine not particularly pleased with that truthful remark... and yet, there was no reason for her to hit you," his voice was calmer than he thought. He stood up from his seat, put on his jacket.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm getting you some ice... you should cool your wrist and cheek a bit, or it won't get better."
"I won't get in trouble?"
"Because you told the truth?" Thomas raised an eyebrow unbelievably, "I'll see if I can burst our inflated porcupine.," he winked.
Emma feared nothing good, "Dad!" she stopped him before Thomas completely disappeared from the door, "What happens next? Where are we moving to?"
"I have a cousin in Bombay. He'd be willing to take us in," she had never heard him so gentle and fragile.
"Is that in the north or south of England?"
"India," Thomas revealed after taking a deep breath.
India. With Lord Grantham's permission, Emma borrowed a book about the Asian country from the large library. The insights she found in it did not appeal to her at all. It was so incredibly far from everything she liked.
"Why is this taking so long?" she heard a voice – Jimmy – complaining, "I would have kicked Mr. Barrow out immediately."
"Mr. Carson probably doesn't want to cause a scene," speculated another voice – Alfred.
"If he doesn't throw out Thomas soon, he will definitely cause a scene," O'Brien also chimed in.
Emma sank further into her chair. The girl sat at the end of the table, hidden behind the old book about India.
"The gap-toothed monster probably sweet-talked Mr. Carson," Jimmy shared his thoughts.
Emma opened her mouth in horror, but quickly decided not to make herself known. With her tongue, she probed forward where her front teeth usually were. Only, the tooth was missing. Her baby tooth had fallen out last week – during supper. She had bitten into a potato, and the loose tooth had come out.
"I hardly believe that," said O'Brien, "Mr. Carson would hardly take pity on a bastard."
Emma sighed in relief as Jimmy, O'Brien, and Alfred finally left the servants' hall. She set the book aside. Mr. Bates was right. The now evil valet would have taken action long ago. And maybe her dad was right, and the porcupine needed to be burst. Emma grinned mischievously. She suddenly had a brilliant idea.
Scheming against Jimmy and Alfred was indeed not difficult for Emma. Moreover, she could expose them in front of the Crawley family. Emma coated the handles of the trays for the evening dinner with glue. The moment Jimmy and Alfred grabbed their respective trays, her plan worked.
According to Mr. Carson, who was upset during the servants' supper about James and Alfred's misbehavior, it was a very embarrassing incident. Lord Grantham and the Dowager showed little understanding. Instead, they were highly displeased.
"You do know, Mr. Carson, that this wasn't Alfred's fault. He fell victim to a prank," remarked O'Brien. The maid arrived late for supper, as she had to attend to her ladyship once again. She slumped onto her chair before shooting back up, letting out a loud "OUCH!"
"Is something wrong?" Mrs. Hughes asked.
"No, everything's fine," she put on a fake smile.
"Dr. Clarkson mentioned that older people often have problems with their joints," Emma shared her knowledge.
"You won't be out for the long term, will you?" Carson immediately inquired.
"No, I won't. Everything is in perfect order, and I'm not that old yet," O'Brien said.
Emma pulled a doubtful grimace that conveyed, 'Are you sure you're not already ancient?'
But O'Brien quickly changed the subject, "As I said, Alfred is not to blame. He was set up," she defended the young servant. O'Brien stared directly at Thomas, who had been sitting absentmindedly at the table until now. The valet didn't miss the irritated looks from O'Brien, Alfred, and Jimmy. Unnoticed, Thomas glanced beside him, where an 8-year-old girl was suppressing a laugh.
Mr. Carson cleared his throat, "I'm not sure. Even I have noticed that Alfred and James are vying for the position of the first footman," he explained in his calm, deep voice.
"Nevertheless, I doubt that Alfred..." O'Brien tried to continue defending her nephew.
"Miss O'Brien," Carson interrupted, "This incident was embarrassing enough. I don't want to hear anything more about it."
Emma hopped up and down with the toothbrush in her mouth, joyfully. She couldn't stay still in front of the basin that evening. She had enjoyed O'Brien's astonished expression immensely and was thrilled that Mr. Carson believed her story about the rivalry between Alfred and Jimmy.
"I guessed right, didn't I?" Thomas noted with a slight grin as he entered the room. "It was you."
"Mr. Carson didn't believe a single word of the nasty maid," the girl rejoiced.
Thomas took off his jacket, hung it over the chair, and then sat on his bed. He silently observed Emma brushing her teeth.
"Dad, couldn't you try to find work in Downton? Mrs. Harris surely needs help on the farm," she suggested.
"I'm not a farmer, Emma."
"But you know about watches," she quickly pointed out. "You could open a clock shop," Emma realized excitedly, "Just like Grandpa!"
Thomas shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"Because..." Thomas considered a suitable excuse, "Because I don't have money, and such a shop is very expensive."
"I can give you my pocket money," Emma said as if she didn't see a big problem there. She spat out the toothpaste foam and looked at Thomas with big, desperate eyes. "Daddy, I don't want to go to India," she spoke sadly.
Thomas sighed, "I don't know what the future holds, so we should consider all options, but the most important thing is that we stay together, my little dwarf."
Emma nodded. Her dad was right. The most important thing was that they stayed together. She couldn't imagine the years she spent without her dad anymore.
"Now tell me, what did you do to O'Brien? Why did she scream in pain?"
"A can of tacks fell earlier, and apparently, I didn't pick them all up."
Thomas smiled slightly amused. "Tacks, really?" he asked, shaking his head, "You truly are a cheeky little dwarf."
Emma dropped onto the bed next to him. "I couldn't stand by and watch her destroy our lives. She deserved it."
"I know," Thomas said, and his smile faded. After all, he bore some responsibility for the situation.
"I learned that from you," Emma tried to lighten her dad's mood. "Defending oneself and standing up for what matters. The bedtime story is based on true events," she added, giving him a smile.