Footman in Training | By : imdirty Category: 1 through F > Downton Abbey Views: 2654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey and am not making money from this story. And I'm hoping I'm doing this disclaimer thing right :) |
Price hid his letter to Eric among a stack of others he wrote during his three days of bedrest. He penned a letter to Sam and Marie, then his grandmother, friends at his prior employer, cousins, Lucy the waitress, and by that point he figured he might as well keep writing until he ran out of note paper. Daisy agreed to post the letters, and Price handed them to her with more than enough money to cover the postage.
“Please, keep the rest for your troubles. Buy something fun. It will make me feel less guilty for all the help you’ve given me the past few days,” Price told Daisy when she pushed the coins back into his hands.
“I can’t, this is too much, even for all these letters.”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” Price said, closing Daisy’s hand around the money.
Daisy would have protested again, but she couldn’t produce words while Price’s fingers touched hers. She nodded and left with his stack of letters.
Price’s last day in bed was the hardest. He desperately wanted to rejoin his colleagues, bored almost to tears in the dormitories, which were near silent and empty during the day. He thought it would be less lonely than the hospital, but it was worse knowing everyone was so close but completely inaccessible.
He admitted to himself that the isolation gave him anxiety. Being constantly occupied and around other people prevented him from ever having to think too much. One couldn’t contemplate too deeply working fourteen hour days, and even his half day was always busy. Thomas was at the forefront of his mind. Eric’s concern over Thomas’s unhappiness made Price more worried than he had been before.
An icy rain began to rap against Price’s windows and on the slanted roof above his head. A fat drop here and there quickly grew to a crescendo of pelting hail and rain. He rose to his feet, much more easily than he had even one day prior, and watched the storm from his small window. He pressed his cheek to the cold glass and breathed hot air, drawing shapes in the condensation with his finger.
“Planning your great escape?” Thomas asked from the doorway.
“You’d think I’d have been locked up here for months by how eager I am to get out,” Price said, still drawing on the window.
“I doubt Mr. Carson will let you go full speed tomorrow.”
“I’ll take anything, I don’t care.”
“The books didn’t help?”
Price looked at the pile. “I read most of them, but there’s only so much reading one can do before it all just blurs together.”
“You do know that it will only be a week tomorrow? This is quite melodramatic for just six days of solitude.”
“I suppose I don’t do well in a cage.”
Thomas gathered his books from Price’s nightstand. “Funny, that’s how I’ve been feeling about this entire house.”
“With me as the only exception?”
“The one and only,” Thomas said with a quick smile. Price hadn’t bothered to put pomade in his hair, and loose pieces fell across his forehead, covering an eye. Thomas brushed them back with his fingertips. “Why do you look even sadder now?”
“Just want you to be happy, that’s all.”
“Happiness is a lofty goal. Can I just aim for not being terribly depressed?”
Price laughed and his hair fell right back where it had been. “You know, there’s a practical reason I style my hair. It’s not just to look so incredibly seductive all the time.”
“I don’t know, this rumpled look is actually quite seductive, what with the same pajamas you’ve been wearing since Tuesday and those bags under your eyes.”
“Please, go on.”
“Well, the gloomy weather makes you look especially pale, and since I have shoes on and you don’t, you’re also quite short. Your eyes are watery, your lips are chapped, and I think you’ve lost weight since you’ve been sick.”
“Thomas, I was feeling so low. Thank goodness you were here to raise my spirits.”
Thomas fixed Price’s hair again and patted his cheek. “With all that said, you’re still achingly beautiful.”
“Sounds it. Now take your books and leave me in my misery. I’ll see you at breakfast, where I’ll be clean and combed and clothed.”
“I’ll take clean and combed, but don’t worry about clothed.”
Price pushed Thomas to the door. “Don’t flirt, I’ve been entertaining myself... other ways... and I need a break from that, too.”
“Really? I’d like to hear more about that. Or you could reenact it for me.”
“Sorry. Use your imagination.”
“I will!” Thomas called as he left.
Price was in his livery the next morning before the sun was even up. Mr. Carson found him in the servant’s hall polishing candlesticks, two dozen completed and one dozen to go.
“Welcome to the world of the living,” Mr. Carson greeted him.
“You’ve no idea. I now know my version of Hell, Mr. Carson: extreme boredom.”
Mr. Carson rumbled with a chuckle. “I’m relieved to have you back. When you’re missing it’s like losing the work of two men. But pace yourself, otherwise you’ll be back up in that room.”
“Please, anything but that,” Price said with a smile.
The rest of the staff began rising and working. Thomas found Price in the servant’s hall and joined him with his cup of tea. He watched Price work a candlestick over and grinned. “Couldn’t break your hands from that motion after days of doing it in bed?”
“Did you busy your thoughts with that last night?”
“Busy myself with thoughts of you every night.”
Miss Baxter entered the hall and sat across from Thomas and Price with her tea. “Mr. Barrow, we both have the same half day this week. I was going to walk to the village to see a picture. Would you like to join me.”
“Do join her, Mr. Barrow. Have a bit of fun.”
“I can answer for myself, you know.”
“What would you have said?” Price asked.
“He would have said ‘no’. Or a very reluctant ‘yes’ after I pushed him,” Miss Baxter answered.
“Will both of you let me speak?”
Price and Miss Baxter stared at Thomas, awaiting his answer.
“Yes, fine. I’ll go. I knew the two of you would start scheming against me.”
“Breakfast soon, David,” Mrs. Hughes said from the door. “Better clean up.”
“Was just finishing, Mrs. Hughes.”
Miss Baxter helped Price put everything away, by which time porridge and toast was served and all were seated. Price’s eyes kept falling on Anna while they ate. Something about her looked different.
Price passed Lady Mary’s suite later that morning and saw Anna cleaning jewelry with a cloth. He poked his head in. “Is everything alright with you?”
“Yes of course, why do you ask?” Anna replied, waving him into the room.
“I can’t put my finger on it. Something seems different.”
Anna smiled. “Maybe you noticed my tightening waistband?”
Price’s cheeks warmed. “Oh, I shouldn’t have bothered you, it’s not my business.”
“No, it’s alright, David. Lady Mary and Mrs. Hughes know, and Mr. Bates of course. And everyone will know soon enough if they haven’t figured it out. I’m four months along already.”
Price clapped his hands together. “How exciting for you both! I won’t tell a soul until you do, I swear it.”
“You’re fond of children, but how do you feel about babies?”
“You’ll have to keep me away from yours, I’ll never want to put him down.”
Anna picked up a new pair of earrings and began working again. “So I’m having a boy now?”
“Have a boy, have a girl, have both. I’ll juggle one on each arm.”
“Oh don’t wish that for me, David,” Anna laughed.
“A whole gaggle of babies! Is that what you call a group of them? A gaggle?”
“Maybe a gurgle? Or a giggle?”
Lady Mary entered her room and stopped at the sight of Price.
“My apologies for being in here, m’lady. I was just stopping to check on Anna.”
“He knows,” Anna said, meeting Lady Mary’s eyes.
“I wasn’t going to ask, it was just nice to finally see you up and about, David. I trust you’re feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you. I should get back downstairs,” Price said, leaving with a quick bow of his head to both women.
“I don’t know if you’ll get him on a horse soon now that he’s had surgery,” Anna told Lady Mary.
Lady Mary held one of the newly cleaned earrings to the window and admired how it sparkled. “I don’t think mother nature would allow it soon, anyhow.”
The weather was as dismal as the day before, and it dragged on that way for the rest of the week. By Thomas’s half day it had let up only slightly, enough that he and Miss Baxter could walk to the village with umbrellas by their sides, their hats and coats providing enough protection from the elements.
“What picture are we seeing?”
Miss Baxter linked her arm through Thomas’s. “There are two playing, I figured we could pick when we got there.”
“I heard there’s one come out with a musical score synched up to the film.”
“Well if it’s showing, that’s the one we’ll see. Do you like music?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Some do more than others.”
Thomas shrugged. “More than some, I guess. Less than others.”
“Always such a contrarian.”
“That’s my specialty.”
The rain picked up as they passed the farms and Thomas opened his umbrella to cover them both.
“Have you seen your sister recently?”
“Seen, no, but we write frequently and I call her about once a month.”
“That’s so wonderful to hear. You’ve really opened up since David came along.”
Thomas gave a small, bashful smile. “Coincidence.”
“It’s okay, I’m not prying. It’s clear how special he is to you. Clear to me, that is.”
Thomas looked at Miss Baxter but didn’t respond.
“How’s he feeling after his surgery?”
The two finally reached the village, and Thomas walked carefully to avoid leading Miss Baxter into any puddles. “He was like a lion in a zoo the last day in bed. The one who slinks around his cage, but you know he’d bite and claw his way out if given the chance. It worried me a bit, if I’m being honest.”
“How do you mean?”
“In many ways, he’s quite like me, especially when I was his age.”
“You say that as if you’re a generation older.”
“No, but I am older, and wiser for it. If six days makes him that cagey, I worry in five or ten years’ time he’ll be crawling the walls of Downton like I’m doing now. It would break my heart to see him leave, but I can’t help but think he should take his brother’s offer. Work at the family shop. Be in the city, a place full of life and energy just like him.”
“Have you told him as much?”
“Of course, but like I said, he’s quite like me. He doesn’t want to hear it.”
“Is he like you… in other ways?”
Thomas swallowed. “I couldn’t ever confirm what you’re asking. It’s not my place.”
“Sure,” Miss Baxter said, holding Thomas’s arm tighter. “Can you at least tell me your feelings for him, then?”
Thomas wanted to share his feelings for Price with the whole world if he could. “As you said, he’s very special to me.”
“I’m glad to see someone so special to you is so kind in return.”
“I’m glad of it, too.”
“You deserve it.”
“Well I don’t know about that, but it’s quite nice in contrast to past experiences.”
The theatre came into view and Thomas read the marquis. “You know, I don’t know the name of the one I wanted to see.”
“Then let’s let the ticket seller choose for us.”
“A gambling woman. I like that,” Thomas said, closing his umbrella as they approached the booth.
Price always missed Thomas when he was off on his half day, but Eric’s response to his letter arrived while Thomas was out, and Price thanked the heavens for the timing. He sat in the corner of the servants’ hall, away from the others, to read it.
Dear David,
It was such a nice surprise to receive your letter! Of course I won’t tell Thomas that you wrote to me, you have nothing to fear. In fact, if he finds out we communicated, you can say I wrote to you first. Oh, and I would have opened the letter if it fell into my lap as well, so you have no judgement on my end.
I’m relieved to hear Thomas is doing better, but you’re right, there’s only so much better he’ll ever be while working at Downton. As for my suggestion that he talk to Edith, he wrote that he was too worried his inquiry would get back to the butler, and he would be fired. He said he’s been close to fired before and didn’t want to give any good excuse to let them see him out the door. I found his letter so that I could quote him on that, by the way.
I forget what a challenge it is for him to get to London, so I will take your advice and visit. I can come in a few weeks, I just have some deadlines to meet first. Please call at the number below when you know his half day around that time and I will do whatever I can to come. Do your half days ever align? Could you join us? I want to meet you, especially now.
I have hope that something will work out in his favour. Something besides you, of course.
Talk soon.
Yours,
Eric Weatherbee
Price was glad to have an ally in Eric, and reassured to confirm that he posed no threat, though picturing Eric and Thomas meeting for dinner still made him a little jealous. It would be worth it, however, to know Thomas was enjoying himself.
A letter from Marie had arrived as well.
Dearest David,
If I knew you were ill I would have rushed down. I hope you’ve recovered by the time this letter reaches you. I need to see you and ensure you’re truly on the mend. Telephone and let me know when I can come, and make it soon before I am ill with worry. My sister could watch the little ones, and frankly I would be happy to have a break for the day.
I know your answer, but don’t be too surprised when I ask again if you will come home. We need the help desperately, not that your brother would admit to just how desperate he is.
I gave the children kisses from you just as you asked.
With love,
Marie
I knew I shouldn’t have admitted to being sick, Price thought. He asked Mr. Carson’s permission to use the telephone and called his brother’s house. Marie was in, and practically deafened Price with her excited greeting. She said she would make herself available on his next half day, five days from then, and he gave her instructions for how to find the village pub where they could meet for dinner. He spoke to his niece, and then listened to his nephew babble before reminding Marie that he was working and had to get back. He also had one more request for her, which he asked her to keep under her hat for now.
“Yes, of course. I won’t say anything,” she said. “But it would please your brother to hear it.”
“It’s just an idea for now. I don’t want to get his hopes up, so please, please keep it between us.”
“I won’t tell, I promise! Anyway, I’m so looking forward to seeing you,” Marie said. Her son began crying in the background. “And looking forward to a day of quiet. See you soon. I love you!”
“I love you, too,” Price said, replacing the receiver. He went up to his rooms to put away his letters, and on the way back downstairs saw Mr. Molesley standing over a chessboard alone in his room.
“Who are you playing against?” Price asked.
Mr. Molesley was startled, and then flustered by the first conversational words Price had spoken since blowing up at him. “I play with a friend, we mail each other moves back and forth. I just got his letter, so I moved his piece, and now I’m considering where to move mine.”
Price let himself into Mr. Molesley’s room and looked at the board. “Which are you?”
“Black.”
“Okay, you tell me the move you’re going to make, and then I’ll tell you if I would have made the same.”
Mr. Molesley eyed Price cautiously, then reviewed the board again. He moved a piece and looked at Price.
“That’s what I would have done, too. You know, you could write down the configuration of your current game with your friend, and then we could start a game, you and I.”
“You want to play chess with me?”
Price stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. “If you’ll play with me, that is. I’m sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t the right way to tell you how I felt.”
“It certainly wasn’t,” Mr. Molesley said, finding confidence in the face of Price’s humility.
“I wasn’t considering your feelings. I should have spoken to you like a gentleman. I’d understand if you’d rather just keep to your current game.”
Mr. Molesley’s shoulders rounded. “No, we can play. I accept your apology. Though I must say, being the one person in the house to ever receive your wrath made it especially hurtful.”
“I don’t handle it well when I feel my friends have been wronged. That’s no excuse, but it wasn’t anything personal toward you. You’re my friend now, so that just means no one better cross you,” Price said. He smiled at Mr. Molesley and felt some solace when Mr. Molesley smiled in return.
“I’ll find some paper and write out the board, and then our game can begin. I must warn you, I was known as somewhat of a chessmaster in my younger days,” Mr. Molesley said.
“Well then, I look forward to the challenge.”
Mr. Molesley struck up conversation with Price at supper that evening, though it was less like conversation and more like a lecture on the history of the modern chess game. Price did his best to feign enthusiasm for the subject matter while avoiding Thomas’s staring eyes.
Thomas stayed behind after supper to roll cigarettes at the table. Price joined him with a sketchbook and colored pencils.
“So, now you’re getting cozy with Molesley?” Thomas asked, shaking tobacco onto paper.
Price sharpened a pencil and started lightly sketching on a clean sheet of paper. “He was in the wrong, and I’d tell him that again, but yelling wasn’t right on my part.”
“Or maybe it’s just that you can’t handle being in someone’s bad books.”
Price looked up from his sketch. “Is it really so bad if I can’t?”
Thomas licked the paper between his fingers. “A thicker skin would do you good. Not everyone is going to like you in life.”
“Not everyone has liked me in my life, but it’s different here. I live here, and hopefully I will for a long time. It’s too hard to live somewhere full of tension.”
“That’s the way I’ve lived and it hasn’t bothered me,” Thomas said, tapping his fresh cigarette on the table before moving onto the next.
Price raised his eyebrows. “Hasn’t it, Thomas?”
“Who hasn’t liked you?” Thomas asked, changing the subject.
“Not many who mattered. My father, for a while. Then I came back from the war and he was just happy to have me alive.”
“Sounds like a large chunk of that story is missing.”
Price sighed, trading his pencil for another, before changing his mind and picking up a third. “I’m going to tell you the story, and I really don’t want to answer questions about it.”
“This I have to hear,” Thomas said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m all ears.”
Price waited for Ellie to collect a forgotten supper dish before speaking. “I was engaged at seventeen to a girl I knew since childhood. At first I thought maybe I was wrong about how I am and if I were with a woman, I could change. But I couldn’t. Obviously. We only kissed, but it was enough to confirm what I already knew about myself. So, before too much wedding planning took place, I called it off. I said I wasn’t in love with her, but that wasn’t convincing to my father because the marriage was practically arranged and love wasn’t a factor. He couldn’t make sense of what happened since she was really a lovely girl, kept asking me what was wrong with her. I finally broke down and exploded, like I do sometimes, and told him no girl would ever be right for me. I lived in the same house with him but we didn’t speak for nearly a year.”
Thomas hadn’t moved a muscle since Price began speaking. He licked his lips and resumed rolling the next cigarette. “I’m sorry, David.”
“Once I got my papers to go to Germany, he came around. Not to say he ever accepted me as I am, but at least we could be father and son again. I’m thankful for that.”
“Does Sam know?”
Price switched pencils again. “Yes. He didn’t understand the distance between me and my father, so my father blurted it over dinner one night.”
“Does he accept you?”
“We never spoke of it again, but he doesn’t seem to hold it against me at least.”
“Well that’s something.”
“What about your sister?”
Thomas nodded. “She does. Now she does.”
Mr. Molesley popped his head into the room. “David, I took my turn. Heading to bed, you can take yours in the morning.”
“Thank you, see you in the morning, Mr. Molesley.”
“He’s the new Daisy in your life,” Thomas smirked. “Though Daisy seems to still be a bit sweet on you despite the gardener.”
“She’s quite cute, if only that were my type. At least I can say I tried. Did you ever try? With a girl?”
“No. I can’t say I have. Though years ago Daisy would have let me.”
Price laughed. “My goodness, has the poor girl ever fallen for someone who would fall in love back?
“I’ve yet to see that happen. What’s that you’re drawing? Is that me?”
Price turned his sketchbook to Thomas. “I’m a little rusty. What do you think?”
“If that’s rusty then I’m never drawing in front of you. I didn’t realize you were an artist.”
“Oh I’d never give myself that title,” Price said, turning the sketchbook around again. “I do love art, though. Which reminds me, I have books of his Lorship’s I have to return. There’s a wealth of books about art in the library, some with incredible illustrations.”
“I’ve read most of the books in that library thrice over, but not the ones about art.”
“You should, art is about history, and you like reading about history.”
“I have plenty to read at the moment. Maybe you could talk about the books you’ve read with your new best friend Molesley.”
Price flipped to a new piece of paper and drew a crude frowning face. “Nevermind, this is a better drawing of you.”
Thomas laughed and tapped his final cigarette on the table. “You forgot one thing,” Thomas said, taking Price’s pencil to draw a cigarette hanging from the face’s sad mouth.
“You’re right about your drawing skills. Don’t quit your day job.”
Price decided drawing would help to lift the cloud the early winter brought down around him, and he had filled up his sketchbook by the time his half day came around. He left early to meet Marie to buy a new pad and notepaper in the village, but returned with much more after his visit. He arrived back to Downton during the servants’ supper, but didn’t join the others. Thomas watched Price walk by with a large box under his arm and head directly upstairs.
“How was your half day?” Thomas asked from Price’s doorway.
“Good. Come in and shut the door.”
Thomas complied. He sat on Price’s chair as Price stood in front of the box on his dresser.
“Do you want to help me with a project?” Price said, tapping the box.
“That depends on the project.”
Price lifted the box, which jingled as he handed it to Thomas. Thomas opened it and poked around at the contents.
“My brother’s in desperate need of help. I’m not quitting my life for him, but I talked with Marie and it would be helpful if I could refurbish these watches. He can then sell them in his shop, or at least loan them to customers since it’s taking him longer to repair watches then when there was two of them.”
“And what do you need me for?” Thomas asked, running his thumb over the cracked glass of a pocket watch.
“There’s so many here, if you help it will speed up the work, and we can split the money I get for doing it.”
Thomas perked up. “There’s money in it?”
“Well I’m not doing it out of the pure kindness of my heart.”
“I don’t know the first thing about watches,” Thomas said, handing the box back to Price.
“You know more than most would from the start, and I can show you the rest. It’s late tonight, but we can work on some together after supper tomorrow. Plus the family is going away for a little while, there may be more down time and we can get quite a bit done. The more we complete, the more we’ll get paid.”
“So your brother brought these to you today?”
Price poked through the box himself. “No, Marie. She didn’t tell him the watches were coming to me, she said it was someone she found in an advert.”
“Secret watchmaking, how wickedly sinful.”
“I don’t want him to get excited thinking I’m coming home.” Price handed Thomas a wristwatch and a suede pouch of tools. “We’ll start tomorrow.”
“How much money are we talking?” Thomas asked, accepting the items from Price.
“Enough. More than you’re making rolling cigarettes and reading novels in your spare time.”
“I also read newspapers, thank you very much,” Thomas said, kissing Price’s cheek before heading back to his room.
After changing for bed, Thomas opened the latest novel from Eric, but the items from Price kept calling to him. He laid the tools out on his dresser and opened the back of the watch, staying up quite late investigating the gears and springs inside.
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