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The world seemed to still be all around everyone, servants shared in the tears and sorrow of those above them. But of course, Thomas didn’t care. His heart might have stopped and he would never have noticed. He’d have remained there in silence until an opportunity arose for him to leave the room. Lady Sybil was dead. God had taken the kindest, most caring person to ever grace the area of Downton. He’d snatched her up for himself to make heaven that much better.
As Thomas wept and attempted to stay himself against the wall, as he tried his absolute hardest to keep it together in front of the lovely Anna, as he let grief overcome his body, all Thomas could do was cast his mind back to the time during the war. That evening, he barely slept as everyone returned to bed. The whole house was dampened in mood, but that was to be expected. He continued to weep in bed, silently into his pillow, and then followed up by sitting against his bedroom door when a knock came. Mr. Carson asked after him, but Thomas simply kept his mouth closed and waited for Mr. Carson to leave again. As Barrow fell apart, mentally, emotionally, and physically, he cast his mind back to his time as a doctor.
Edward Courtenay, that was the soldier’s name. The handsome one that had gone blind from a gas bomb. There were many patients, far too many for the hospital to be running at full effectiveness, but through the initiative of volunteers, things ran as well as possible. As such, Lady Sybil was often working at Thomas’ side and assisting him where need be. They were together every single day, rarely with differing shifts, and as such, found each other to be a great comfort. Of course, Thomas would never admit it. But Lady Sybil was about the only other person he knew other than Doctor Clarkson. She too was young, she too had similar opinions and he rather liked how she treated Thomas as a human, as opposed to her family who still treated those in the convalescent home as different. Lady Sybil was never like that. She was never unkind. Not even to those who deserved it. Like Thomas.
The following day, Thomas was up earlier than he normally was, a solid half an hour earlier. The sky was still dark, and it was only Daisy, Mrs. Patmore, Mrs. Hughes, and Mr. Carson up. Everyone else was still enjoying their final moments of rest before Daisy had to wake them. Even then, when the four awake remarked on his early rising, he said nothing. He barely looked at them before going on to get himself tea and return to his room to get ready for the day. It was all he could do, fulfill his purpose. Lady Sybil liked the prospect of purpose, Thomas thought to himself. He remembered her saying that purpose fed the soul and actually contributed to society. He thought she was an idiot back then, she was a Lady, the daughter of a Lord. She did not need to contribute to society. But she wouldn’t like him being so torn up that he couldn’t do his job, so that’s what he did. Got ready for work.
“Goodness, he looks dreadful, doesn’t he?” Daisy muttered to Mrs. Hughes as they had their morning tea before she awoke everyone and the bustle of work began. Mrs. Hughes sighed.
“Nobody is going to look their best in the coming days, Daisy. Everyone is grieving” the older woman explained. Daisy glanced up at the clock. She still had twenty minutes before she had to wake everyone. A thought crossed her mind at that moment. Thomas had to leave the room and be comforted by Anna whilst everyone shared their grief the night before. Perhaps…
“Thomas seems more torn up over it though, more than us. He doesn’t even look as if he’s slept”
“I think it’s unfair to compare levels of grief, everyone is different and processes death differently. As for his sleeping, I cannot comment. What Thomas causes himself to think in the dead of night that stops sleep is not my business” Mrs. Hughes said as she sipped on her tea.
“But you don’t think…” Daisy began with a low voice and an apprehensive tone “You don’t think Thomas...and Lady Sybil...ever…”
“What a suggestion Daisy!” Mrs. Hughes scolded with an equally hushed voice. “To suggest that a footman and a Lady-”
“But she went and married Tom Branson, didn’t she? And there was a while there, a very long while I might add, where he wasn't a footman and she weren’t a Lady. They were Sergeant Barrow and Nurse Crawley. They were working together at the hospital every day, and then here. It had to have been hard, and Thomas likes to show off, it would have been easy with Lady Sybil because she was so nice. I know Thomas was kind to her as well, you would have noticed whilst they were here. And he’s not kind to anyone” Daisy explained. Mrs. Hughes pressed her mouth into a thin line and sat up straight in her seat.
“I will say that in those days where he was such a nightmare for us down here, he was not unkind to Lady Sybil. She was often helping him with patients, I will admit that. But you cannot speculate when a bitter man is not so bitter to a woman whom nobody in the world would want to be unkind to. I don’t think Thomas would have it in him, anyway. He is not as Brave as Mr. Branson. Besides, considering the timeline, we can assume Lady Sybil was being courted by Mr. Branson at that Stage. Thomas is grieving, as I said, Daisy” Mrs. Hughes silenced any speculation, and that was the end of it. The day started off as normal, despite those that were upstairs probably still grieving.
Thomas Barrow looked at the small mirror on his wall as soon as he was done readying himself. He thought Edward Courtenay would be the height of his grief, but it was a grain of sand compared to the sadness which shrouded him. He looked at himself properly. A sad, lonely man barricaded behind walls of bitterness, sharp comments, and cruelty. He suddenly regretted everything. He regretted every sly comment, every snide remark, every look of disdain he’d ever given in regards to Lady Sybil’’s family. He’d never thought anything other than good things about her. But he knew anything that hurt her family hurt her as well. That’s how good she was. And how plainly horrible he was.
Later when the work had died down, Thomas was outside leaning against the wall out the back, trying and failing to calm his nerves with his sixth cigarette of the day. With everyone in and out of the house, regular duties had become so fickle. It was here when he witnessed Daisy walk past.
“Thomas! I thought you’d be up with his lordship now” Daisy noted with her high-pitched voice as she emptied a pot of something thick and unsightly into the garden. Thomas simply shook his head in response. “You’re not to listen to old O’Brien, you know, she’s only picking on you because her favor’s fallen on Alfred”
“I know. Not that I mind. She’s a conniving old bat” Thomas mumbled. Daisy let herself smile.
“That’s the most you’ve said all day,” she said. Thomas said nothing back, only remaining silent as he puffed on his cigarette. Daisy stepped forward and fumbled with her hands in front of her, the same way she always did when she was apprehensive. “Might I ask you something?”
“Maybe”
“It’s just that, I know you knew the Lady Sybil well during the war, very well, Mrs. Hughes said you were even nice to her. Like...you went out of your way not to be mean to her” Daisy began. Thomas raised a brow.
“Why would I have ever been mean to Lady Sybil?” Thomas asked with a scowl.
“Well you’re mean to everyone”
“I didn’t want to be mean to her,” He said quietly.
“What I mean is...did you like her?” Daisy asked.
“Everyone liked her,” Thomas said as he gestured with his cigarette.
“No, Thomas, I only mean…” Daisy began, stuttering over her words. Thomas’ patience was running out with her. So short, such a little voice and seemingly no backbone. Although anyone would have to have a backbone whilst working under Mrs. Patmore, he’d give her that. “During the war. When she was Nurse Crawley and you were Sergeant Barrow. You had to have known her well in those days” she explained. Thomas scoffed.
“Socializing was for those that were convalescing, not for the doctors and nurses-”
“Yeah, but did you like her?” Daisy asked again, a little more insistent.
“Daisy” Thomas drew slowly with a glare “Are you suggesting that I would have known her in a different way during the war? A more personal, private way?” Thomas asked, with a slight air of mock about it. Daisy winced.
“What do you think?” She asked, unsure of herself. Thomas glanced down at the ground.
“All the smiles in the world died when she did” he mumbled with a pause, glancing up at Daisy afterward. “I think if I were a different man, in a different life, of different social standing and a different preference I would have liked her. But I’m not that man. I’m me. I found her favorable, in fact, more favorable than any woman I’ve ever known. But that is not the way to think about her now. She wouldn’t have liked me anyway. I’m far too mean, as you put it” Thomas explained, throwing his cigarette on the ground.
“What do you mean preference?” Panic set in immediately in Thomas’ brain and chest as he raised his brows at Daisy. Why did he say that? “Do you mean she wasn’t the type of girl you like anyway? You like different girls normally?” Daisy asked. Thomas gestured with his good hand whilst mentally trying to still his racing heart.
“Best be heading back before Mrs. Patmore blames your disappearance on me”
As Daisy ran off, Thomas cleaned himself up before following her inside. His eyes landed on the new blonde footman loitering in the doorway, looking effortlessly handsome. Something to distract him, something to focus on. At that moment, all thoughts about his alternative life as an alternative man with an alternative preference went out of his head, and he approached James with his same resting smolder.
The best way to move on in Thomas’ books? Distraction. He distracted himself when Edward died. He distracted himself when his father died. And he would distract himself now with the new footman. At least, he hoped.