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I worry about my children. I can’t help it. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good, clever people. They have good jobs and plenty of respectable clothing. But as a mum I can’t help but worry. We all want the best for our children, don’t we? It’s almost worse since they’ve flown the nest and have been out in the world on their own. I can’t shield them out there. All I can do is fuss over them when they visit and make all their favourite foods and let them know that they are welcome home anytime, no matter what. You’d think I wouldn’t have to reassure them, but I’ve heard too many stories of parents setting boundaries on their love for their children, hurting them, turning them out on the streets. Behaviour like that has never made sense to me, and I want my children to know that they can come to me for anything.
Mostly it’s Dickie I worry about. I’ve always worried about him more than I have about Betsy. Betsy can be a mouthy thing. She lets you know her opinion and make no mistake! That can be a dangerous trait for a young lady to have, but I suppose in these times women can speak up more. We can even vote now! Heavens, I would never have dreamed of such a thing when I was a little girl! But, opinionated or no, Betsy is doing fine. Dickie… well, I can never tell about Dickie. He’s very good at pretending. That doesn’t sound like a good thing but I know it’s necessary for him. He has a prestigious position at the Palace, mind, and he’s very charming and handsome. Had all the young ladies chasing after him when he was a lad, though he didn't chase the ladies back. I never had to worry he would get a girl in trouble, at least. The day he told me about his preference for male company, my heart broke a little. It wasn’t a particularly surprising confession. I’d seen the signs. Dickie wasn’t exactly subtle. I wasn’t sad that he is the way he is, it’s that the world we live in won’t accept him because of it. He’ll never have peace and safety. He could marry, and I know some of his sort do that, but he says that kind of marriage wouldn’t be fair to his wife, and I can’t very well go around asking if there are invert ladies looking to get into a sham marriage, can I? He says he’s safe in service. Apparently there are loads of men like him in service, where all the footmen and valets and butlers are required to be bachelors. No time to raise a family in a job like that. And maybe he is safe, but I don’t believe for a second that he’s happy. Dickie’s a romantic. He’s not meant to live alone, but I’m afraid he doesn’t have much choice. Oh, I know he’s had boyfriends, and for a time he thought this fellow John was the one for him, but John has gone and Dickie, at almost forty years old, is still alone. We write him all the time, and when he visits we all but smother him in affection. Betsy’s children adore him. He’s all smiles whenever I see him, but he doesn’t fool me. He always looks a little sad, just in his eyes. That’s a hard thing for a mother to see, and there’s nothing more I can do to help him.
Dickie is home until Sunday. He was here in October, just a quick drop-in during the Royal Tour, but it’s been several months since we’ve last seen him for more than a few hours. He’s different. He seems happy, truly happy, in a way I haven’t seen since he met John. It makes me a bit nervous. Poor Dickie was a wreck after John and I don’t want him to go through that again. If he’s met someone, how do we know the man is trustworthy? One wrong word could ruin Dickie for life. I don’t know how to ask him tastefully. He’ll tell us, I suppose, if it’s serious, but it’s hard not to push him.
Dickie is in love, no doubt about it. The man’s name is Thomas and he works in service as a butler. They can only see each other for a couple days every few months but they write each other constantly and ring whenever they can. He wants to invite Thomas over for the holidays. It’s April now, but Dickie seems very sure that he and Thomas will still be courting come December. If they are still together then, we will know that this Thomas is very special indeed.
Aren’t butlers meant to be older fellows?
Dickie just rang. Thomas will be able to visit with him two weekends before Christmas. It’s the closest they can get to the actual holiday, what with all the festivities and parties. They’ve been together for over a year now, so it’ll be nice to put a face to the name. Dickie hasn’t told us much. He wants us to form our own opinions. Years ago he nattered on about John endlessly and was upset when we didn’t like John very much. There wasn’t anything wrong with John, exactly, but he didn’t quite seem to fit with Dickie. They didn’t work together, and later Dickie told us we were right in our judgement of John. He wants us to like Thomas, I know. I only hope Thomas is worth liking. He must be, for Dickie to court him so long in such difficult circumstances.
What to say about Thomas? Where to start? He’s a handsome man, certainly, and very polite. A bit nervous, but Dickie did warn us that Thomas has not seen his family in decades, as they were unaccepting of his preferences. I imagine it must be terribly nerve-wracking for him to meet all of us after having had such a terrible experience with his own parents. There’s something awfully fragile and sad about him, but he smiled so sweetly when Ed shook his hand and welcomed him into the family. That was premature on Ed’s part, but Dickie looked so elated at his father’s instant acceptance. And Thomas is so good with the children, and so helpful around the house. Him and Dickie kept trying to help with the cleaning, even though they’re on holiday! Dickie was being so funny too. He couldn’t stop staring at Thomas and teasing him. After supper I actually found them cuddled together on the couch, wrapped in my red afghan, just reading. They looked so calm and comfortable. Betsy has already decided that Thomas is a real sweetheart and needs to stick around.
He’s a quiet fellow, is Thomas. Standoffish. I startled him this morning when I came into the kitchen, and Dickie and Thomas were making coffee and didn’t hear me come in. Thomas jumped a bit then quickly straightened up and sort of hid behind Dickie like he was embarrassed. We all pretended like nothing had happened but really I just wanted to hug the poor thing. There’s no need for him to be so skittish around us. It makes me worry about what his life has been like, and the last thing I need is another child to worry about. They’re all adults, I know, but to me they’ll always be children. Dickie and Betsy instead of Richard and Elizabeth, no matter how old they are.
We’ve decided to celebrate Christmas early since this is the only time we’ll have everyone together in the house, so we opened presents after breakfast. The children both got new toys and boots, and I gave Betsy a cookbook with all her favourite recipes copied over. I’m never sure what to get Will, though he and Betsy have been married for years by now, but he seemed to like the woodworking guide. I've knitted matching socks and gloves for Dickie and Thomas, which I know is a silly gift, but Thomas was surprised that he’d received a gift at all and looked deeply touched that we’d thought of him. I made his in green and Dickie’s in dark blue, and I had to guess at the sizing but they fitted quite well. We all bundled up to go for a walk and some ice-skating and cocoa. Thomas fit right in with everyone, like he’s been in the family for years. Little Janie and Billy have never skated before, but Betsy and Thomas held their hands and led them around the ice very patiently. They made a very pretty picture, and Will and Dickie, who were holding the cocoa, looked quite taken with the scene. I’m very lucky to have made such a lovely family with Ed, and Will and Betsy are such good parents and still very in love. I hope that Dickie and Thomas will be so lucky. I’ve only known Thomas for a couple days, but he and Dickie are lovely together.
Dickie and Thomas are off to London and Downton, respectively. I gave them both tins of biscuits for their journeys and made sure to give Thomas an extra hug and to tell him that he’s welcome to visit anytime. I hope he does visit. Downton isn’t so far away but servants get so little time off that I’m not sure when we’ll see him again. It must be a thousand times harder for him and Dickie to part ways. I can’t imagine how lonely they must get without each other.
Ed and I visited Downton today. It’s been almost half a year since we’ve seen Thomas but we’ve been talking to Dickie over the phone and he says he doesn’t think Thomas is doing very well and asked us to check on him. When I asked what Dickie meant by “not doing well”, Dickie got very quiet then said that Thomas gets melancholic, though he wouldn’t tell us anything beyond that. Dickie arranged that we’ll be in Downton on Thomas’ half-day, and Thomas met us at the pub around noon. He’s very good at pretending to be fine but he looked tired and wan. His smile was sad. Still, he was polite and let me fuss over him and thanked me very kindly for the meat pies I brought. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do to help him, outside of letting him know that there are people who care about him and that we’re only a phone call away, or a train ride if necessary. I’ve never had to worry about this sort of thing with Betsy or Dickie, and Will is always cheery.
We saw the Abbey where Thomas lives and works. It certainly is a grand place. Thomas has assured us that his employers are kind to him and that he gets on well with his staff. Apparently the Earl and his family know about Thomas and have gone out of their way to protect him. It’s a relief to know that there are other open-minded people in the world who won’t judge or hate others for who they love, and that Thomas has friends who can look after him. As much as I would like to look after all my children, I can’t be in York and London and Downton all at the same time.
Since we got home I have been doing further research on Thomas' affliction. According to Dr. Freud, melancholia is due to loss, such as death of a loved one, and can be cured by psychoanalysis. Others say it's a problem within the brain, or is a learned behaviour, or a neurosis. Some say it's treatable, others disagree. What a tangle! Either way, it's best to keep Thomas away from medical professionals. God knows what they would do to him if they found out about his inclinations.
Very unsettling call with Dickie today. I rang him to chat and to coordinate gifts for Betsy's birthday. He was oddly quiet and when I insisted he tell me what was wrong he told me, in not so many words, that he and Thomas recently had a very close call with the police. I almost dropped the telephone. That's one of my worst nightmares. My baby boy, my beautiful boys, handcuffed and thrown into the backs of one of those horrid black, windowless wagons. Behind bars. On the dock in front of a judge. At best they would be fined, their reputations ruined, jobless. At worst, beaten and killed. People can be so cruel. I cannot imagine being so full of hate that I would kill someone for loving another person of the same sex. I told him to be more careful. Keep himself safe. Keep Thomas safe.
A brief visit from Dickie for Betsy's birthday. After everyone else had gone to bed I asked how he and Thomas were faring. He said they are laying low after last month. It shook them terribly, especially Thomas. Dickie said that Thomas has been arrested before, although he got out of jail before being processed. The more I learn about Thomas the more I want to protect him. Small wonder he was so skittish and shy when we first met him. If only all the world's ills could be cured with biscuits and knitwear. Life would be fine then.
Dickie has sent a letter requesting that we visit Thomas this month, as Dickie will be unable to and this month marks their two-year anniversary. He has sent Thomas a gift, of course, but company would be nicer and I suppose Ed and I are as good a substitute as he can get.
Strange that Thomas has only been in Dickie's life for two years, and in mine for less than one. He seems to have slipped right into the family. It's easy to think of him as one of my own, even if I can't put his portrait up in the hall the way I could with Betsy and Will's wedding photographs. Perhaps we could have a photograph taken with all eight of us together and say that Thomas is a distant cousin.
Sometimes I want to find Thomas' parents and tell them that they threw away a fine boy. He grew up well in spite of them, into a wonderful man, and he's ours now. I don't think he will break Dickie's heart, and Dickie is still head over heels for him. I'll have to make a proper Christmas stocking for him, I think. There'll just barely be enough room on the mantel for it. I hope we'll be able to use it for years to come.