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Last Christmas, Thomas was the merriest member of the staff downstairs. The children all flocked to him as the evening drew on for hugs and thank you’s for their presents, and a secret mince pie stolen from the kitchen. Last Christmas, Thomas had kissed the cheeks of Mrs Hughes and Daisy under mistletoe and poured mulled wine around the servant’s hall. He had met Jimmy’s eye and shared a far greater secret than anybody could have possibly known. That night, last Christmas, he had given Jimmy everything he had to give. He gave Jimmy his heart.
Thomas stirred his tea and set the spoon down on the saucer with a deafening clunk. The day was dreary and pale, yet, it was once again Christmas Eve. Nobody else was down yet from their slumber, having been given a couple of hours off that morning. Where everybody else had decided to make the most of the rare opportunity, Thomas had woken up far too early and couldn’t sleep.
The fire lay empty and dead. Only Mrs Patmore shuffled about in the kitchen. Her cup of tea came with a sympathetic look that Thomas wanted to rip off her face. He wished now more than ever that no one knew.
Of course, nobody truly knew why he and Jimmy could barely look each other in the eye, nor did they know why the palpable, heavy iciness between them had lasted an entire year when they were so close before.
Thomas rubbed his temple and huffed, dragging his tired stare to the cold fire. Last Christmas had been a dream until it wasn’t anymore. Christmas used to fill him with sparkling light.
‘Mr Barrow?’
He lifted his head up, snapped out of the flat daze. Thomas stood from the chair at the table, wincing as it scraped, and snuffed out his cigarette in an ashtray. Mrs Hughes stood with clasped hands, smiling like a teacher looking at her student. Thomas forced himself not to roll his eyes and gave a curt nod.
‘Can I help, Mrs Hughes?’
‘Merry Christmas, Thomas.’
Thomas huffed. ‘Merry Christmas, Mrs Hughes.’
‘I had hoped the festivities would cheer you. It seems that I was wrong.’
‘Why is that your concern?’ Thomas snapped.
‘This feud affects your work, Mr Barrow, as much as you may not want it to,’ Mrs Hughes said sternly, catching Thomas off-guard. He masked his shock but squared his jaw as he stared. ‘It is far beyond reason.’
He almost couldn’t speak. Mrs Hughes stared him down. His resolve to meet it with steel crumbled and he dropped his gaze to the half-drunk tea in front of him, glancing at the smoking cigarette as it too cooled and died. Thomas scowled into the cup. Work hours would resume soon, he could escape then. Everyone would go back to avoiding him then.
‘I may have suggested you do something about it, but I do not have the patience,’ Mrs Hughes continued sharply, ‘Mrs Patmore has informed me that she requires ingredients that the hall boys did not manage to retrieve last week. You and James will go to the village today to fetch them, no arguments. Am I understood, Mr Barrow?’
Thomas gritted his teeth. He could barely stop himself shaking.
‘Yes, Mrs Hughes,’ he spat before storming out of the servant’s hall.
He did not see Jimmy himself until he was waiting outside by the door for him, chain-smoking as fast as he could as though the smoke would burn through his senses. Or so he tried. Thomas ground out the final stub before the back door swung open with the toe of his shoe and sighed.
As expected, Jimmy did not look at him directly. Scowling darkly, he stared at the snow-dusted ground, hands shoved in his pockets. No scarf, no hat, or gloves. Thomas bit back the urge to tell him to turn around and fetch something. Instead, he shook his head and beckoned.
‘Let’s make this quick,’ he muttered. He did not look to see if Jimmy followed… but Jimmy did.
They trudged and stamped through a thin layer of snow, down the path to the road that led all the way into Downton Village. Thomas did not once look back at Jimmy. Hearing him would suffice, though this largely consisted of scrambling steps and hissed swearing. He rolled his eyes after the next curse in the list of countless ones as they finally made it into the village where he planned on instructing Jimmy to go elsewhere. Divide and conquer, as it were, with the added benefit of keeping Jimmy away from him for as long as he could.
Thomas pursed his lips as they paused outside a grocer’s, snatching Mrs Patmore’s list from his coat’s breast pocket. He scanned the list and for the first time, turned around to look at Jimmy.
As if they hadn’t even moved from the abbey, Jimmy’s eyes were cast to the ground. Thomas bit hard on the inside of his mouth.
‘You fetch the vegetables,’ Thomas snipped. Jimmy lifted his head but still did not look at him. ‘I’ll sort out the spices. Meet me back here in ten minutes and we’ll be back on our way. Understood?’
Jimmy sniffed, ‘Yes, Mr Barrow.’
‘Off you go.’
Jimmy did not walk off immediately. Thomas flicked his gaze to Jimmy’s pockets. His hands were fidgeting. He gaze travelled to Jimmy’s jaw, which tightened, and his mouth as it flattened into a pale, painful line. Even when Jimmy did start to move, turning slowly as though it hurt, Thomas could not take his eyes off of him.
He watched as Jimmy walked up the pavement and ascended the two steps into the grocer’s, catching the brief sight of rosy cheeks, before he vanished inside. Thomas released a breath he did not realise he had been holding, swallowing thickly. The tightness in his throat remained, however.
The spice shop burned like a sparkler on the senses with warm, earthy scents. Wreaths looped around the tops of the walls and ribbons twirled, their own explosions of colour, with cinnamon sticks tied to every corner. Lively chatter filled the shop. Faces smiled and mouths uttered good wishes. None of it touched Thomas, who slipped through the bustle to the counter with his list and rattled them off to the shop keeper.
As he left with a basket of what he needed to take back, Thomas glanced up at the top of the doorway. Mistletoe. He tore his gaze away and continued on.
Even more decorations coloured the village outside. Thomas stared around grimly at sprigs of holly tucked into window frames and greenery looped like bunting along the guttering of houses. Snow sat atop the stone walls with icicles trickling down from ledges and individual stones sticking out. Small stalls with men and women selling roasted chestnuts and honeyed almonds called out over the business, tempting customers, wafting rich smells through the sharply cold air.
Thomas shook himself and began to walk back to the meeting place, shouldering through huddled people, ignoring their protests. As he did, he pulled his coat tightly around himself. He just wanted to get this day over with and it had barely started.
Stationary in the spot where they had parted, Thomas waited. He removed his gloves, lit a cigarette and smoked the cold away. It warmed his fingertips, his insides. Thomas tipped his head back as he blew out a stream of smoke with his eyes closed for a brief, fragile, peaceful moment, the world around him dimmed in intensity.
Last Christmas, at roughly this time, he estimated, he had been creeping into Jimmy’s bedroom to wake him up. He had kissed Jimmy as consciousness bloomed him into life and purred in his ear that they were almost at the true dawn of Christmas day.
Thomas sighed. The world returned around him and so did the cold. He glanced towards the grocer’s door for signs of Jimmy, but there was nothing yet. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, Thomas huffed another mouthful of smoke, relishing in the heat coursing through his lungs. He looked again after a few more minutes passed. Nothing. Thomas pinched the top of his nose. It did not matter what he felt for Jimmy, he was not going to chase him through the village.
Just as he was about to march into the shop and threaten to demote Jimmy for time-wasting, he finally appeared. Thomas pursed his lips as Jimmy stepped out and met his gaze. Thomas raised an eyebrow and began the walk back to the abbey without so much as a word in his direction, ignoring the thumping in his chest. Jimmy looked beautifully alive in the cold.
Thomas walked ahead of Jimmy, forcing himself not to look around at him. He wanted to, though. Trying to bat away the thoughts was no use. Thomas huffed and carried on walking along the pavement they had not long come down.
But, as the bus stop came into sight, Thomas frowned. He couldn’t hear Jimmy walking anymore. Pursing his lips, Thomas sucked in a breath, clenched his fists in his coat pockets, and turned around to face him.
Jimmy just stood there. His chin tipped up, his cap at a jaunty angle on his head, eyeing him as he ground his jaw. That was the giveaway. Thomas stared him down and took a step closer. Jimmy was nervous. Jimmy was rarely nervous.
‘What?’ Thomas snapped.
‘You know what.’
‘Don’t be childish.’
Jimmy scowled. ‘Don’t patronise me.’
‘How you have the audacity to talk to me like that, I simply do not know,’ Thomas said flatly, ‘I don’t want to hear another word.’
‘You’ve never given me a chance.’
‘I never, ever have to.’
‘Fucking hell, Thomas!’ Jimmy yelled, his face red, ‘You’re impossible! I can’t bloody win!’
Thomas closed his eyes for a moment.
‘Please,’ he breathed, ‘just stop talking.’
‘No!’
‘Actually, yes, you will, because I have absolutely nothin’ to say to you,’ Thomas snapped, ‘Now, shut up and go back to ignoring me.’
‘I haven’t been ignoring you! You have been ignoring me! I’ve been tryin’ and tryin’ and you won’t even see me! D’you have any idea what that’s like?’
Thomas started shaking. ‘You do not get to demand pity.’
‘I’m not, I’m askin’ you to just… just let me explain! Please, Thomas?’
‘Tough,’ Thomas muttered, ‘I don’t want to hear it.’
He walked away.
It was the kindest thing he could do for himself, for once in his life.
He refused to look at Jimmy as they trudged back. He couldn’t stop thinking, however, his mind grinding through every horrible idea about how his life got ruined for a second time into dust until it permeated even his attempts to distract himself. In reality, he knew it was futile. Thomas knew he had never been this angry before, let alone at Jimmy, let alone on the day it all fell apart.
Like the good under butler he was, Thomas locked it up and pushed it aside. Skilfully, he fixed his features into an icy expanse. He would get through this day.
And yet, by the time they reached the servant’s yard at the back of the abbey, anger boiled and broiled like lava beneath the surface. It was a trigger on the edge of firing. Thomas blew out a shaking breath and watched it freeze on the air before vanishing. All he had to do was find enough tasks to occupy his mind.
Then, like a gentleman, he stood aside holding the door open for Jimmy even as his jaw locked and his breaths heaved. He stared straight ahead, not dropping his gaze to meet Jimmy’s, not even when Jimmy stopped right in front of him on the boundary between the cold and the warmth inside.
‘Please?’ Jimmy whispered, ‘Thomas, this is killing me. Give me one chance.’
‘No,’ Thomas muttered in a low voice, ‘We will be needed upstairs soon.’
Jimmy narrowed his gaze, but Thomas didn’t waver.
‘Yes… Mr Barrow.’
He watched Jimmy walk and not turn back. He waited until he couldn’t see Jimmy anymore before he walked inside. The door to the boot room was on his right. If he could just make it there, he would have a moment and that was all he needed.
Emotion hovered in his throat as he marched towards the boot room door, not caring that his thunderous stare made hall boys and maids move out of his way with fear in their eyes. In fact, he almost made it before the tears welled up in his eyes, but he did make it before a sob punched out of his chest. Thomas slammed his fists on the table and pressed on them, leaning all the weight he couldn’t support. His knees felt weak. His vision blurred entirely as he gasped on bitterly frigid air.
The children jumped up and down when they saw him later on, toddling fast towards him as he knelt for them with open arms. He wished them a Merry Christmas and they told him what a silly Mr Barrow he was – Christmas wasn’t until tomorrow! Silly Mr Barrow scooped them up and played to their every will.
They were a lovely distraction.
After he and Jimmy, who he dutifully did not look at, were done serving luncheon upstairs, Thomas found himself in the kitchen. In a haze, he passively watched Daisy and Mrs Patmore laying tiny dough stars over mince pie casings.
Only, Mrs Patmore kept looking at him. Thomas didn’t show that he had noticed, but it was blatantly obvious and as the seconds passed, there was less and less holding him back from snapping or throwing something at her head. Breathing evenly, Thomas closed his eyes and told himself he only had a few more hours to put up with.
Maybe if he told himself that enough he might start believing that once the day was done, his problems would dissipate.
‘Daisy, why don’t you find James with that question I had for him,’ Mrs Patmore announced suddenly. Thomas snapped his head up, frowning. Daisy eyed him and scurried off. Thomas followed her with his eyes. ‘Now, Mr Barrow, we need to have a word.’
‘Why?’ Thomas asked without looking at her.
‘Because I said so.’
Thomas clenched his jaw but stayed. He turned to look at Mrs Patmore. She glared up at him with unfiltered fire in her eyes.
‘Enough of the vagaries, Mrs Patmore,’ Thomas snapped, ‘What is it?’
‘Then I shall be blunt. You are causing disruption. You and Jimmy are acting like spoiled children.’
Thomas stared a moment. ‘Why… why are you getting involved. I report to Mr Carson.’
‘Our Mr Carson is not the right person to tell you what you must hear.’
‘And what would that be?’
‘That you are cared about, despite everything that you appear to do to prevent it.’
He tutted and started to turn away.
‘Spare me the false pity,’ he muttered as he went.
‘Mr Barrow!’
He did not go back.
****
‘How two grown men cannot be trusted to sort out their differences, I do not know,’ Mrs Hughes sighed. On the other side of the small table in her sitting room, Mrs Patmore sat with her own cup of tea, shaking her head. ‘It was a good suggestion Mrs Patmore, but if they refuse to do things on their own, then they shall have to be nudged along. Like boys.’
‘You won’t earn any prizes from Mr Barrow.’
‘I am not afraid of anything Mr Barrow could possibly do. We have known him since he was a boy, and he will get treated like one again if he isn’t careful,’ she said firmly, ‘As for James… Thomas was always forgiving him. It makes one wonder…’
‘What on earth did James do to incur his ire?’ Mrs Patmore finished dramatically.
‘And what has been going on right under our noses…’
‘I assume this means your next scheme is underway?’
Mrs Hughes tutted at herself. ‘I hope this is the last of it.’
****
Thomas woke up to pale sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains above his bed. He blinked and winced at the intensity of it. Not one to waste time, he swept out of bed and leaned against the pane to look out on the landscape. He almost smiled. It had snowed.
A knock at the door broke his reverie. Thomas frowned, slipped into his dressing gown, and padded over to the door with cold feet.
‘Thomas?’ Jimmy whispered, shifting nervously from foot to foot, staring up at Thomas with his bluebell eyes, ‘Can I come in?’
Thomas narrowed his eyes. ‘Once bitten, Jimmy.’
‘I don’t wanna argue with you.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I… I want more than… this. I want a truce.’
The right thing to do would be to turn Jimmy away.
‘Fine,’ Thomas muttered, standing to one side, ‘but make it quick.’
‘Thank Christ for that,’ Jimmy breathed as he walked in and Thomas shut the door behind him, ‘I dunno what I was gonna do if you’d said no.’
Thomas kept his face blank of emotion and in passing noted that Jimmy was also still in his nightclothes, and that his hair hadn’t seen a lick of pomade this morning. Soft golden curls glowed in the sunlight that filled the room, lighting up the tip of Jimmy’s nose and his lips too. Thomas huffed and stood in front of the closed door while Jimmy walked to the red armchair in the corner of the room before slumping down in it. Jimmy tipped his head back, shutting his eyes.
‘Get on with it, Jimmy,’ Thomas said quietly.
‘First things first, then,’ Jimmy opened his eyes. His lips curved into a small smile. ‘Merry Christmas, Thomas.’
‘That’s what you were desperate to tell me?’
‘Not just that. I know you’re hurt. I know it’s my fault and I’m sorry.’
Thomas raised a single eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. The familiar tug in his heart that he always felt with Jimmy, ever since he had known him, pulled hard, but he didn’t relent. Instead, Thomas shook his head and walked to the window. Snow unrolled and faded into a white, cloudy sky, the sun burning through it. The trees on the horizon were blue. It was all rather beautifully melancholy.
‘I know that you’re sorry,’ Thomas snapped, ‘I’ll give you that. You’ve been sorry this entire time, but don’t expect me to care.’
‘I think you do care.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the man possesses powers of telepathy,’ Thomas drawled.
‘Cut the sarcasm, I’m trying to make all this right with you.’
‘Stop trying.’
‘No. I won’t,’ Jimmy sat up. He glared intently. ‘I care.’
‘Jimmy, please just tell me exactly what you want from me?’
Jimmy was never one for subtlety. Thomas turned to him and found Jimmy gaping like a fish. No words came out of his mouth. No sense. Tutting, Thomas strode to the door and wrenched it open. He gestured.
‘Your time is up.’
Jimmy jumped up. ‘Don’t I deserve a bit more of a chance than that?’
‘Leave.’
Clenching and unclenching his fists, Jimmy stood his ground, but not for long. Under the daggers of Thomas, he crumbled, bowing his head. Thomas thought he caught Jimmy’s lower lip wobble, though the aftermath of tears never came. Jimmy nodded once.
‘You’re not bein’ fair,’ Jimmy choked.
‘I never have been.’
To Jimmy’s credit, he went and didn’t look back, marching down the corridor. Thomas could not help but follow with a longing stare that went unseen.
He breathed shakily as he shut the door, pressing his forehead to it, and lay his palm against the cold wood surface.
‘Come back,’ he whispered, barely audibly, ‘Come back and I’ll forget anythin’ ever happened.’
He heard no more sound after that. Numbly, he got ready for the day.
****
‘Merry Christmas, you tykes,’ Thomas laughed, untangling himself from an octopus of a hug from George and Sybbie. He cupped each of their faces and gestured with his head to the enormous Christmas tree to his left that glittered exuberantly. ‘Now, haven’t you got a mountain of presents to open?’
‘We got- we got presents for you, Mr Barrow!’ Sybbie bounced gleefully, grabbing Thomas’s arm, ‘Come see!’
Thomas came away from the festivities that morning with a drawing of himself and Santa Claus, as well as a single biscuit, clearly stolen from Mrs Patmore, which he ate quickly as he descended back down from the green baize door. Grinning to himself, he licked his fingers and walked along examining the drawing. His smile grew. The drawing was labelled in big, curly letters, dug into the paper as though Sybbie, whose writing he recognised, had concentrated so incredibly hard to spell his name correctly.
He folded the drawing, stowing it in the inside pocket of his livery. It was nice to know there were two people in the world who might think of him fondly. Thomas shook the feeling off and started to walk towards the kitchen to find the mysteriously absent footmen.
‘Ah! Mr Barrow?’
He looked up just as he entered. Mrs Patmore stopped what she was doing and nodded.
‘Yes?’
‘Mrs Hughes is looking for you. It was urgent, as I understand,’ she said lightly, ‘She should be in Mr Carson’s pantry.’
‘Did she mention what it was about?’
‘Not to me.’
Huffing, Thomas thanked her and changed directions towards the pantry. Just before the door, he straightened his shoulders, lifted his head, and took a deep breath before he opened it.
‘Mrs Hughes, I- ’ He halted just as the door shut behind him. Mrs Hughes stood behind Carson’s desk. In front of it, stood Jimmy, wringing his hands. Thomas’s jaw tightened. He looked back to Mrs Hughes. ‘What is this?’
Mrs Hughes said nothing. Shooting a fiery look, she walked around both he and Jimmy, straight to the door. Thomas watched her lock the door.
‘This is for your own good. For the both of you, acting like children,’ Mrs Hughes said firmly, eyeing them both sharply.
Thomas stepped back from her. Jimmy said nothing.
‘I want nothing of the sort,’ Thomas hissed.
‘You may not want it, but you need it and frankly, we all do. It is affecting your work. Both of you.’
She walked back to the desk and stood firm with clasped hands. Thomas stared at her openly. Mrs Hughes raised an eyebrow, staring him down. Or trying to. Thomas’s hands started to shake.
‘Why are my decisions not my own anymore?’ Thomas asked, glancing between her and Jimmy, ‘It seems I am obligated to do rather a lot that I was not aware of.’
‘Mrs Hughes,’ Jimmy said in a small voice. Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’
‘You two are not to be trusted to get along and so it falls to me to treat you like little boys,’ Mrs Hughes snapped.
‘It isn’t your place,’ Thomas retorted.
‘I am your superior, Mr Barrow, in case you have forgotten. Now… talk to each other.’
Thomas turned to face Jimmy, and he, Thomas. Grey met blue.
‘I’m sorry, Thomas,’ Jimmy muttered, ‘I know you bloody know I am, but you’ve never understood why.’
‘Jimmy, do not say another word. Don’t you dare say another word, this is not just about you,’ Thomas hissed.
‘Alright, but I deserve an answer,’ Jimmy stepped towards him. Thomas froze. ‘It’s been a whole year… why won’t you let me explain?’
‘I don’t owe that to you.’
‘Don’t it bother you that you’ve never known why?’
‘I already know why,’ Thomas’s voice wavered, dipping down to whisper as he glared fire at Jimmy, ‘You’re a coward.’
‘Oh, because you’ve never been scared in your life?’
‘I have. I, however, can admit it.’
Jimmy shook his head and scowled. ‘You’re bein’ impossible. Again. You can’t just stay angry at me for the rest of your life.’
‘Can’t I?’ Thomas threatened, stepping into Jimmy’s space, ‘I’ve been known to hold a grudge or two.’
‘D’you want me to beg?’ Jimmy stared at him, aghast.
‘I want you to leave me alone.’
They glared at each other, breathing heavily, but a tut interrupted the tension.
‘There is nothing that you may not say in front of me,’ Mrs Hughes said firmly.
‘With all due respect, this still has nothing to do with you,’ Thomas replied without breaking his stare.
Thomas could only imagine what Mrs Hughes was hoping to achieve and he would save his anger at her for later. Neither she nor Jimmy responded to him. He glanced to the door, then back to Jimmy, who did not meet his stare again. Jimmy seemed stuck but boiling like a small kettle all at once, frozen yet fizzing like pop. It was as clear as day. Thomas tore his gaze away and focused back on the door.
‘Let me go, Mrs Hughes,’ Thomas said evenly, ‘I will accept my part in the disruption, and I will be civil.’
‘Thomas, I was scared because you’re too damn hard to live up to,’ Jimmy snapped. Thomas’s eyebrows raised as he stared at Jimmy, now visibly shaking. ‘You don’t care what anybody thinks, you just know who you are and what you want, and you aren’t afraid of wanting it, but I am. I’m not bloody supernatural like you are!’
‘Of course, you’re allowed to be scared!’ Thomas shouted, turning on Jimmy, ‘I would never make you pretend not to be, Jimmy, I’m bloody scared! I’m scared all the time!’
‘Well, you do a good job of hidin’ it,’ Jimmy shook his head in despair. ‘I know what I did was a stupid, stupid thing to do, I don’t deny that. You’re right to hate me, I just… I can’t stand it. Please don’t hate me forever.’
Thomas pursed his lips, all too aware of Mrs Hughes’s eyes on him. On both of them. Thomas placed his hands on his hips and breathed as deeply as he could. Losing his temper again was not going to help anybody now. Lowering his gaze, Thomas simply let the silence fall.
‘Thomas, say somethin’.’
‘I can’t. I won’t.’
‘You can, you know Mrs Hughes- sorry, Mrs Hughes,’ Jimmy added under his breath, ‘You know Mrs Hughes wouldn’t say a word.’
‘That rather sounds like you two have been colluding,’ Thomas said quietly.
‘I didn’t know this was gonna happen any more than you did.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m not bloody lyin’!’
‘Jimmy!’ Thomas yelled, exasperation and exhaustion fraying the edges of his voice, cracking it, burning his throat as he stared at a wide-eyed, teary Jimmy, ‘For god’s sake! You could have just told me you were scared, you could have told me anythin’, and instead you kissed soddin’ Ivy! I loved you!’
Jimmy gulped. ‘Do you still?’
‘Obviously, you stupid boy! I’ve been madly in love with you ever since I bloody met you!’
Silence descended on the room, bar Thomas’s breathing so heavily he thought he might explode, heart thumping against his ribcage and tears now rolling down his face freely.
He couldn’t believe he had said it after all this time. Before this very moment, he assumed Jimmy knew and lived his life knowing that Thomas had given Jimmy his heart. The amount of gentle teasing Jimmy did at his expense, although he truly hadn’t minded, about Thomas being the soppiest git in the country or Thomas going dewy-eyed for Jimmy, or the endless other jokes, and the soft twinkle in Jimmy’s eye, all told him that Jimmy knew. Jimmy bristled at too much affection, so Thomas never said the words that painted his days.
‘Exactly, Thomas,’ Jimmy uttered, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides, ‘I was frightened of lettin’ you down, of not being able to give you what you want, so I gave you an out. I gave you up.’
Thomas cried, there was no point hiding it anymore. He touched his fist to his mouth to try to swallow the tears.
‘Then it’s even worse than I thought it was… and you’re even more stupid than I thought you were too,’ Thomas said thickly, ‘I had everythin’ I’ve ever wanted. I had you and you gave me away for Ivy Stuart.’
‘Bloody hell… Bloody soddin’ hell… Thomas, I should never have done the dare, I never should’ve listened to Ivy, I don’t care about her. I’m so sorry.’
Jimmy sounded so worn down. Thomas licked the tears off his lips and snuck a glance. Through blurry tears, he could see Jimmy was just as upset as he was. He frowned grimly. As far as he was concerned, Jimmy had no reason to cry.
He felt the presence of Mrs Hughes pointedly now. He looked to her in desperation. Mrs Hughes looked as though she wanted to shake the both of them, but in catching Thomas’s eye, she softened.
When he had been left out in the cold, bundled up and brought back indoors by Mrs Hughes, he flatly asked her what he should do. She told him not to give in. Mrs Hughes was possibly the only reason he still had a job, the reason he had been promoted. Thomas swallowed thickly and forced himself to look back down at Jimmy, who rubbed his eyes and sniffed, doing a poor job of hiding his emotions. He always had been terrible at that.
Thomas chewed the inside of his mouth and considered how likely he was to walk away. If she could see that all hope was gone, Mrs Hughes would let him go. She would understand.
And yet…
Thomas kicked himself as he opened his mouth to speak.
‘I know you are,’ Thomas said quietly, ‘I know. And if you fuck this up again, I swear I will actually kill you.’
Jimmy lifted his head and stared at him.
‘What?’ Jimmy gasped.
Thomas crossed the room, grabbed Jimmy by the lapels, and kissed his idiotic mouth.
By all definition, it was an awful kiss. Jimmy’s lips tasted like salt, everything was too hard and fast, teeth pinching, noses hitting, but it was also everything Thomas dreamed it would be. He pushed and Jimmy pushed back. Their mouths were warm and eager.
Thomas only tore himself away because he needed to breathe, and even then, he remained grasping onto Jimmy. In turn, Jimmy gasped and reached up to cup his face. His blue eyes swam.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jimmy whispered.
‘I am still so angry with you,’ Thomas said back, stroking Jimmy’s cheek.
‘I weren’t expectin’ anythin’ less,’ Jimmy said and smiled weakly, ‘Will you forgive me?’
‘Oh, I think I can hold this over your head-’ Thomas kissed Jimmy’s forehead. ‘-a little longer.’
‘Fine.’
Shaking his head, Thomas pulled Jimmy in and hugged him to his chest. Jimmy embraced him back, so tightly it ached in his ribs.
Then, he remembered Mrs Hughes.
Sniffing and blinking through the tears still running over, he looked over to her. She smiled warmly at the two of them. Thomas caught her eye and returned it with a slow nod.
‘I suppose I have you to thank for this,’ he said.
‘Consider this your present,’ she said, sighing. Thomas just about heard Jimmy breathe a laugh into his livery. ‘I will not be going to such lengths again.’
‘Understood.’
****
By a miracle, Mrs Hughes bought them twenty minutes.
After shutting themselves in Jimmy’s bedroom, Jimmy broke down. Thomas had never seen Jimmy sob before and gripped onto his shaking body as tightly as he could, burying his face in Jimmy’s soft, curled hair. It was the most awful sound he had ever heard.
‘Everything’s alright, now, Jimmy, come on,’ Thomas said, rubbing Jimmy’s back, ‘I should be the one crying, you stupid idiot.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Jimmy mumbled into his shoulder, ‘Jus- just… hold on…’
Sniffing, Jimmy pulled himself away and stepped back, wiping under his eyes with his sleeves. Thomas stood with hands on hips, smiling wryly. Jimmy cleared his throat and straightened his livery which had rumpled in the vice-like embrace of a hug. He shook himself, coughed again, and smiled weakly up at Thomas, eyes still gleaming. Thomas tutted and reached out to fix Jimmy’s livery.
‘As I said,’ Thomas breathed, tugging the dark green waistcoat down, ‘I’m bloody furious with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.’
‘I think I can manage that,’ Jimmy said shakily.
‘Are you sure?’ Thomas eyed Jimmy carefully as he undid Jimmy’s bow tie to redo it again. ‘Sneakin’ off to kiss random girls because you’re scared of stayin’ with me is not how you solve your problems, I hate to break it to you.’
‘M’not scared of stayin’ with you.’
‘Then why, because I still don’t understand, Jimmy.’
Jimmy sighed heavily. ‘I’m not justifyin’ it, but… God, Thomas, you love me so much, it’s like standin’ next to the sun. I thought I’d never give you what you wanted back.’
Thomas raised an eyebrow and finished tying the bow. He smoothed out Jimmy’s shoulders, flattening every crease. Huffing, Thomas pulled back and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.
‘You don’t have to love me,’ he said evenly.
‘But that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted,’ Jimmy blurted.
‘I do, but not like this, not because you’re frightened into thinkin’ you do when you really don’t. If you asked me to wait, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.’
Jimmy breathed a laugh, ‘You’re freakishly reasonable, Thomas Barrow.’
‘And don’t you forget it, silly boy,’ Thomas teased, ‘Merry Christmas, Jimmy. My gift to you is not strangling you in your sleep.’
‘I’m one lucky bugger.’
The tears couldn’t quite leave Jimmy’s eyes as they made their way back into the chaotic fray of Christmas Day downstairs, nor did they recede once they were down there. Luncheon approached and impossibly rich, delicious smells permeated the air, weighing it down with spices and the warm roasting of meat. Together, they entered the splendour spread out around the kitchen.
Thomas immediately got to assisting Daisy with arrangements of tiny and delicate pastries on tiers of silver trays with a loop on top where, most likely Alfred, would carry them. She snipped at him, flustered and pink in the face from the heat in the room, but Thomas didn’t mind. He even laughed at one point, causing her to freeze and stare at him.
‘Are you feeling alright, Mr Barrow?’
‘What?’ he chuckled, placing yet another pastry in its place.
‘I haven’t heard you laugh all year.’
Thomas stopped and frowned.
‘That’s an odd thing to notice,’ he said.
‘I haven’t even seen you smile…’ she said slowly, ‘Does this mean you’ve made up with Jimmy?’
Thomas stood up straight and looked for the idiot in question. He stood by Alfred, bickering about who was going to carry what appetisers, of course. Thomas smirked.
‘James,’ he called over the noise of the kitchen. Jimmy snapped his head up, eyebrows shooting to his hairline. ‘have we made up?’
For a moment, Jimmy looked knackered.
‘I bloody hope so,’ Jimmy replied. Thomas turned back to Daisy, smiling.
‘Does that answer your question?’
Jimmy sauntered over and stood himself right next to Thomas. They smirked at each other.
‘I don’t know what it was you were fighting about, but thank heaven it’s done,’ Daisy sighed, ‘It was tiring.’
‘I didn’t think anyone would notice,’ Thomas said without looking away from Jimmy.
‘We all did.’
Jimmy broke first, snorting and turning away, followed swiftly by Thomas. Ignoring the looks they were getting, Thomas wrapped his arm around Jimmy’s shoulders and quickly squeezed him, earning a yelp from Jimmy, before letting him go again.
‘Let’s just say he’s lucky I’m a saint and a forgiver, Daisy,’ said Thomas primly. That earned another snort from Jimmy.
At the Christmas luncheon, all went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. Thomas valiantly ignored Jimmy’s uncontrollable grinning and could not avoid noticing Carson scolding him for it. Jimmy did not seem to care. In fact, Carson’s telling off seemed to motivate him more into sneaking grins and touches to Thomas’s elbow whenever they passed near each other.
Thomas only managed to return a smile once by the wine. Jimmy nudged his elbow with his own and moved away before anybody would have noticed. For the rest of the elaborate dinner, Thomas was floating.
By late afternoon, he was ready to drop. Thomas flopped into his rocking chair by the fire and shut his eyes for a blissful moment. His feet and back ached from giving the children piggybacks. His leg muscles were sore from running up and down the grand staircase, carrying presents up to the appropriate bedroom. He even managed to sneak off from Carson’s strict eye and place small presents from the servants on George and Sybbie’s pillows.
Sighing deeply, Thomas relished in this final rest before the servant’s own dinner began. The aromas wafting in from the kitchen were enough to make his mouth water and he certainly planned on filling up as much as he could on Mrs Patmore’s cooking. Smiling to himself, Thomas opened his eyes in time for Anna, Bates, Mrs Hughes and Jimmy to flood in, all chattering. Miss Baxter and Molesley followed behind. Thomas watched passively as they sat down one by one.
He failed to contain a smile as Jimmy walked up to the piano stool and dragged it across the floor to right next to the rocking chair, before plonking himself down. Thomas looked up at his grinning face.
‘D’you know how many times I stopped Carson from noticin’ your antics at luncheon?’ Thomas asked.
‘You’re a softy, that’s your own fault.’
‘Really, Jimmy?’
‘I’ll take the blame for everythin’ else but not your softness.’
‘That is entirely your fault.’
‘Nah,’ Jimmy teased, crossing his arms, ‘I reckon you’ve been like this forever.’
‘I should’ve demoted you to scullery maid.’
Jimmy chuckled and leaned his elbow on the back of the rocking chair, not hard enough to tip it, but enough to force Thomas to look him in the eye. His blue eyes squinted as he smiled widely.
‘D’you fancy a game of cards later?’ Jimmy asked.
‘I don’t know. If I’m not steamin’ drunk by the end of tonight and incapable of playin’ cards, then I’ve failed.’
‘Alright,’ Jimmy laughed, ‘Do you want to get sozzled with me?’
‘Absolutely.’
He wasn’t going to and it probably wasn’t wise, but he did it anyway. Thomas reached out and clasped Jimmy’s hand. Just for a moment.
Sitting together at dinner, they soon left their worries aside. The feast before them overwhelmed the senses. Large roast potatoes glowed golden alongside Yorkshire puddings as big as a fist, draped in thick gravy. Roasted broccoli, sprouts like bundles of presents, carrots, parsnips, chestnuts in cream, filled every plate from edge to edge. The mulled wine flowed like a river between every mouthful.
Thomas and Jimmy received every possible look as they settled down together, talking quietly, smiling secretly, which became gradually less secret as the evening wore on. Down at the far end of the table, the hall boys and maids gossiped, while Mrs Hughes and Carson exchanged knowing glances. Thomas saw all of it. He just didn’t care. When he caught a snippet of Mr Bates suggesting to Anna that paradise had been restored, he shot him his iciest glare. From the weary look he got in return, he wasn’t sure how effective it had been.
A veritable slab of Christmas pudding, drenched in custard, was soon demolished by both Jimmy and Thomas. Thomas sat back in his chair, hands linked over his slightly sore stomach, feeling the weight of wine sitting on his head like a heavy woollen hat. Yet, this did not stop anybody pouring him more. Daisy wove through the gradually rising staff with a new glass for him, to which he groaned but took it anyway.
‘Bloody hell, I’ll be on the floor if you keep this up,’ he said, ‘Are y’tryin’a get me drunk?’
Daisy giggled and moved away.
Jimmy slapped his shoulder, jumping up to jump on the piano. Thomas tipped his head back and smiled a sloping smile at the sight of Jimmy launching into a joyful tune. Jimmy looked just as drunk as he was, flushed pink and hair flying loose. His smiles slipped about his face first before they fixed in place.
As if there were a string attaching their bodies, Thomas dragged himself out of the chair and with his mulled wine, sauntered over to Jimmy. Sipping, he leaned on the piano. The vibrations of Jimmy’s playing thrummed through his body. Wine filled his mouth. Thomas swallowed and smiled as Jimmy looked up at him. He even leaned in a little closer, breathing deeply.
‘Enjoyin’ the entertainment, Mr Barrow?’
‘Mmm… yes.’
Jimmy snorted and danced his fingers across the keys.
‘Can I have some of that wine, Mr Barrow?’
Thomas stretched out his hand as Jimmy brought his tune to a twinkling end. Jimmy took the glass and practically inhaled what was left. Thomas swiped it off him again, casting a haughty glare. Yet again, it did not have the effect he wanted; Jimmy giggled and shook his head.
‘Y’not scary when you’re drunk,’ Jimmy hiccupped. He didn’t bother to cover his mouth.
‘Your face is red.’
Jimmy stood and Thomas didn’t move. They were nearly chest to chest. Jimmy bit his lip, his gaze dipping to Thomas’s mouth. He breathed a laugh and stumbled to the left, gripping on the edge of the piano, but Thomas remained still. His smirk simply grew.
‘How angry are you with me?’ Jimmy asked innocently.
‘Never been so angry in my life.’
‘You seem it.’
‘Furious,’ Thomas purred.
Jimmy hiccupped again and somehow this turned his face an even darker shade of pink. Thomas could have kissed him there and then, but a sudden wave of chatter behind him distracted his mind long enough for him to turn around.
Another glass of wine appeared in his hand. He drank it immediately. Jimmy laughed just by his shoulder.
Carson tapped the side of his wine glass with a spoon. Everybody looked his way.
‘I shall not tarry long,’ Carson grumbled, ‘but now that we are the few that are left, I should like to say…’
Whatever he had to say, Thomas was no longer listening and instead looked about the servant’s hall with a puzzled frown. The maids and hall boys were gone. It therefore took a moment for him to realise Jimmy was lifting his arm up and around his shoulder, hugging Thomas around his waist in return. He leaned on Thomas and Thomas, unable to prevent the spread of a new smile, leaned on Jimmy, letting his fingertips brush back and forth over Jimmy’s chest. He went back to watching Carson.
‘… but, of course, I must also concede to make merry and,’ Carson continued, ‘wish us all a very Merry Christmas,’ He raised his glass. ‘Merry Christmas to everybody.’
They raised their glasses and said cheers. At the same time, Jimmy’s hand drifted towards Thomas’s arse. Thomas almost choked on his wine.
****
He wasn’t sure the wine tasted of anything anymore, but Thomas drank the very last dregs of it from his glass. At the same time, Jimmy hiccupped in the seat next to him, again, and smiled dozily while leaning on one hand. Thomas snorted and looked about.
‘Who’s left?’ he asked.
‘Who… who’s left or… who’s left?’
Thomas rolled his eyes. ‘Who is left, y’numpty.’
‘Dunno. Who’s left of us, Mrs Hughes?’
‘Well,’ Mrs Hughes said soberly, casting a somewhat disapproving look at the two thoroughly drunk members of staff at the table, ‘Daisy, Ivy and Mrs Patmore are still clearing the kitchen, but I imagine they will be done soon.’
‘And there’s us, Mrs Hughes,’ came Anna’s voice. She and Mr Bates walked into the servant’s hall with their coats on. Anna smiled at Thomas and Jimmy. Thomas fought the urge to sneer at Mr Bates, who did the same. Patronising git. ‘Merry Christmas, you two. It’s good to see you getting along again.’
‘Long may it last,’ Bates said dryly.
‘He’s still angry at me,’ Jimmy chimed. Thomas frowned, but he didn’t get the chance to speak.
‘Who’s angry?’
Thomas glanced over at Daisy walking into the room from the kitchen. Mrs Patmore followed closely behind, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.
‘I think you look rather cosy,’ Mrs Patmore said, just bitingly enough to make Thomas roll his eyes at her amusement.
‘S’cos I’m not angry,’ Thomas insisted, ‘I’ll be fumin’ tomorrow, but m’not angry tonight.’
‘I never thought I’d see the day,’ Mrs Patmore chuckled, ‘The great Mr Barrow drunk to high heaven.’
Thomas simply smiled.
‘You’ve been tellin’ me every five minutes that I’m lucky to be alive!’ Jimmy complained, nudging him in the ribs, ‘You’re definitely still cross.’
Thomas turned to Jimmy slowly, largely because he wasn’t sure if the room was swaying slightly. He hummed and smiled down at Jimmy through hooded eyes.
‘M’in danger of provin’ I’m not angry at ya.’
Jimmy sat up.
‘That’s… very… yes…’
‘I suggest we all go to our beds,’ Mrs Hughes said quickly, ‘That’s quite enough merriment for one night.’
He wanted to stay here with Jimmy all night, but, like a good under butler, he pushed himself up from the table, teetering where he stood for a moment before he helped Jimmy. Anna and Bates said their goodbyes, with Anna rounding the table to kiss his cheek, wishing him a Merry Christmas. Jimmy scoffed behind her, almost making Thomas burst out laughing. He held himself together though, wishing Anna the same.
Once they were gone, the tiredness hit him. Thomas swallowed a yawn and turned to Jimmy.
‘C’mon, s’not like we’ll get the mornin’ off for a hangover,’ Thomas muttered, grabbing Jimmy’s shoulder and giving him a gentle shove.
‘We sh-should!’
Mrs Hughes, he saw on his periphery, appeared to leave too. Thomas grabbed Jimmy’s other shoulder and attempted to push him from behind, but Jimmy started resisting, giggling like a schoolboy. Daisy also drifted away, leaving them with their scuffling.
‘Fine! Fine! M’goin’, but,’ Jimmy squeaked. He stumbled out of Thomas’s grasp and into the doorway leading out, where he swung around and stopped again. Jimmy leaned back against the doorframe and looked up. ‘I want a kiss under the mistletoe.’
Thomas walked to Jimmy. Towering over him, he huffed a laugh and pressed his body against Jimmy’s, cupping his face with both hands. Jimmy bit his lip.
‘Come on, kiss me,’ Jimmy goaded.
‘I shouldn’t. You’re a shit and you broke my heart,’ Thomas retorted, grazing his lips along Jimmy’s cheekbone.
‘Never ever, ever, ever, ever-again. M’never leavin’ you again, cos I love you, Thomas Barrow, an’ you’ve made me soppy like you are, an’…’ Jimmy hiccupped and smiled brightly, ‘I love you.’
‘Yeah, sure you do,’ Thomas chuckled, pulling back.
‘I do!’ Jimmy said, hitting Thomas’s chest for emphasis, his eyes wide and blue, ‘I wanna kiss you, cos I love you. I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me…’
Jimmy pushed up onto his toes and kissed him so chastely he might have been mistaken for sober. Thomas smiled into his mouth. Though it did not last long, it was as sweet as the sugar Thomas tasted on Jimmy’s lips. It did not need to last for long. Thomas ended the kiss with a final small one on the very edge of Jimmy’s plump lower lip and stood with their foreheads touching.
Jimmy’s eyes fluttered open. He grinned.
‘I think you know my answer to that,’ Thomas whispered softly.
‘Boys,’ came Mrs Hughes’s voice. Thomas winced and glanced at the stairs where she stood. Jimmy closed his eyes again and started to giggle. ‘Bed. Now.’
‘Jimmy? Mr Barrow?’
Thomas swore, breaking into laughter as he looked over his shoulder at Daisy’s wide eyes. He looked just beyond her to a horrified Ivy, staring between him and Jimmy wrapped around each other. Jimmy giggled into his chest and slowly drew his arms around Thomas’s neck.
‘Mr Barrow, James, please get yourselves upstairs,’ Mrs Hughes said sternly, ‘I will deal with the rest.’
Grinning evilly, Thomas linked his fingers through Jimmy’s, dragging him towards the staircase to the bedrooms with Jimmy stumbling behind. As they passed Mrs Hughes, however, Thomas paused and leaned close to her.
‘Thank you, Mrs Hughes.’
‘Go.’
Frantic, pulsing, rapid energy overtook once Thomas’s bedroom door shut. He yanked Jimmy’s necktie, ripped open the shirt, fumbling with buttons and chucking clothes about like confetti, while Jimmy giggled and did the same to him. They kissed until it ached to move their mouths, and then with a firm shove, Jimmy pushed Thomas on the bed.
Gasping, Thomas hit the mattress and immediately reached out. Jimmy straddled him, grinning widely, diving to meet his mouth with quick, sloppy kisses. Thomas chuckled and pulled him closer, stopping Jimmy’s mouth’s travels along his jaw to kiss him squarely on the mouth. They sunk into a slow roll. Thomas sighed contently. Jimmy’s hips rocked.
The steady pace simmered. Thomas relaxed against the pillow, holding Jimmy’s jaw in one hand and his hip in the other. They slowed and slowed. Eventually, they were left breathing against each other’s cheeks. Thomas opened his eyes and brushed Jimmy’s hair from his face. Jimmy smiled gently.
Yawning one after the other, Jimmy snuggled down into Thomas’s chest, planting sleepy kisses to his skin. Thomas hugged Jimmy tightly as, eyes closed, Jimmy’s fingertips drew small circles through the hairs scattered over his chest.
‘You’ll have t’move if you don’t want to be cold all night,’ Thomas murmured. He shut his eyes.
‘In a minute.’
Jimmy whined as he pulled himself up, just enough to press his lips to the hollow of Thomas’s neck, before lifting his head and smiling dozily at Thomas, though it was only just visible. Thomas felt his eyes fill, but ignored it entirely. They were lying in the dark. Jimmy wouldn’t be able to see.
‘I don’t think you’re a coward, Jimmy,’ Thomas murmured.
‘For now. Wine makes me braver.’
‘No, it’s not the wine. You’ve acted a coward, but you aren’t one. Lord knows I’ve done cowardly things before.’
Jimmy turned his head sideways, resting his cheek against the gentle slope of Thomas’s chest. His eyes glittered in the dark.
‘I’m gonna be better for you. I promise.’
Fire burned in Thomas’s heart. He nodded and pushed up to kiss Jimmy once again.