Unexpected company

A/N

A 'missing' part at the end of S6E6. I felt sorry for Thomas and here is the result. A shortie, hope you like it,

o-o-o

They will never, ever trust me. They will always think I have something bad in mind. They can't wait to see the back of me.

Mr Barrow sat in the rocking chair in the servants room, feeling miserable and letting the tears run free. Nothing but good intentions he'd had, helping young Andy learning to read and even then he only met mistrust and suspicion. Well, it had to be, he mused. He knew he had never been very kind to his colleagues, given a few exceptions, and after her departure he had realised Sarah O'Brien had not been a good influence. But the cards had already been dealt by then and he had been marked the bad guy, so he just had to make the most of it.

His chance to act butler while Mr Carson was away on honeymoon might have turn out very well, except he had to spoil it by being nasty to everyone and worst of all; his decision to reveal Gwen as a fraud. Instead, the family and everyone downstairs had praised her and he had received a few stern words from His Lordship.

Why am I doing this? Why am I pushing them away while all I really want is to have friends? In a flash of thought, the answer came to him. I want friends, but I want respect most of all. I want them to respect me.

Lord Grantham's words came back to him. 'Carson is a kind man, that's why people are loyal to him,' he had told him. Was that all? Could it be as simple as that?

Mr Barrow didn't know. He was confused and upset.

o-o-o-o

Mrs Hughes had just left the House on her way to their cottage, when she remembered the jar of 'Dr Phelps' Special Corn Cream for Ladies Feet' she had purchased three days ago. She had left it in her sitting room downstairs, once again, and her feet were really bothering her these days, usually starting about ten minutes after she left the house. She sighed and decided to go back and fetch it from her sitting room. They'd had dinner at the House and her husband already knew she'd be late this evening.

In spite of her frugal nature, even she had had to admit she needed a pair of new shoes, not even just for the wedding, but she would never be able to wear them again with the little bumps on her feet as they were.

She went into her room, found the small jar in her desk drawer and slipped it into her pocket. Very well.

When she carefully closed the door to her room, she noticed strange noises from the servant's hall. Sniffing and …sobbing? At this time? Who would still be there? Or did they have rats downstairs again? She decided to go and find out.

In some strange way, she was not surprised when she discovered Mr Barrow. She had moved very carefully, so the young man in the rocking chair in front of the dying embers didn't notice her at first.

Oh, you poor lad, she thought, sensing what bothered him.

'Thomas,' she said gently. She just refused to call him Mr Barrow now, underbutler or not.

The young man jumped from his chair.

'Mrs Hughes! I was just…I was having a cigarette before turning in…' he tried but he already noticed the look of concern on her face.

'I am fine Mrs Hughes,' he said, but he knew she had read him.

'I am not quite sure you are, Thomas,' she said gently, giving him the warmest of smiles. He couldn't help it, he just gave in. he sank back in the chair and a few more tears ran down his face.

Mrs Hughes had pulled a chair near, sat down next to him and took his hands between hers. She said nothing.

Thomas took a deep breath. He knew Mrs Hughes was a kind woman, he had experienced that before and so he didn't feel too ashamed when another tear escaped his eyes.

'I did nothing wrong Mrs Hughes,' he whispered. 'At least, not this time. I know I have been a prat lots of times, but not this time.'

She stroked the back of his hand. ´Tell me,´ she said softly.

He hesitated,

´It's Andy. You know… A few weeks ago I found out he doesn't know how to read and write. He's so ashamed.. So I offered to help him, but it had to be a secret because he's terrified anyone else might find out, Mr Carson most of all, and he might lose his job. That's why he was visiting me in my room at night Mrs Hughes, and only that. I told Mr Carson there's been nothing going on that he doesn't approve of, but it's clear he doesn't believe me. That's all, Mrs Hughes.'

The housekeeper said nothing, but she squeezed his hand one more time, then got up.

'Wait here please, Thomas,' she said.

He did wait. What else could he do? She would probably go and inform Mr Carson about the illiterate footman.

But then again, would she do so in the middle of the night? No, not Mrs Hughes, he decided. Actually, he couldn't imagine her informing the butler about it at all. He knew she liked Andy, and he did his work well. She was not the kind of person to kick someone out because of being not able to read…. then again; there was the fact there were too many staff downstairs and Mr Carson had made it very clear he wanted Thomas to find another job. If Andy could be dismissed…but then, there would hardly be any footmen left, so…

His train of thoughts broke off when Mrs Hughes returned. She carried a small bottle of whisky and poured a finger's worth into two glasses.

'Thomas, I think you're being a true friend to Andy. I will not betray your secret and I am glad you confided in me. And I'm happy to see your kind side once again. Have a wee dram of whisky my lad, you deserve it and then you should be able to sleep. Slàinte.' She rose her glass to him.

'Slàinte mhath,' he smiled, 'and before you ask; that is all the Gaelic I know. Thank you Mrs Hughes, I now our secret is safe with you. And I will keep yours I return.'

'My secret? What would that be?' she asked, genuinely surprised.

He smiled again, eyes sparkling. 'That you keep a supply of Glenfiddich in your office. I'm sure Mr Carson doesn't know about that.'

She chuckled. 'Oh, you're right about that, he just can't appreciate it the proper way. So we both keep our secrets then.'

He grinned.

'We will Mrs Hughes. Thank you, I feel a lot better now, and not just because of the drink.'

They both rose to their feet and she accompanied him upstairs to the servant's quarters. Just before she turned to leave, he grabbed her hand.

'What is it, Thomas?' she asked softly.

He just smiled, then he bent over and kissed her cheek.

'Goodnight Mrs Hughes,' he said. 'And thank you for being here.'

'Goodnight lad,' she smiled back before closing the door.

He will be all right, she thought and went to the cottage, only to discover she had left the cream in her office again, when she emptied her pockets to find her desk key.

THE END

A/N I love your comments! X george