Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Fair (May 1913)

"Would you like to come to the fair with me, Daisy?" asked Thomas. "Some of us are going there later."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," Thomas nodded as he exhaled smoke. Daisy smiled excitedly and ran back to the kitchen. William also left the room dejectedly.

"You swine," Bates muttered, while Thomas exhaled smoke again.

"Oh, there you are, Thomas," Mrs. Hughes' voice sounded in the background. Suddenly, Thomas wasn't so relaxed anymore and sat up straight when the housekeeper came into the servants' room with the baby in her arms. "Emma woke up from her nap and asked for you."

"I doubt that very much, Mrs. Hughes," said Thomas. "The child can't even speak as far as I know."

"Oh, yes, Thomas... you just need to spend some time with her, isn't that right, Emma?" As if the girl had understood the housekeeper, she nodded in agreement. The housekeeper deliberately placed the child on the floor - at a sufficient distance from Thomas - due to the cigarette smoke, "Since you still have some free time until tea is served, you might as well use the time with your daughter."

"That's your child," Bates said shocked. Thomas turned his gaze away from the valet, instead looking at the young girl. Sitting on the floor, she played with her stuffed rabbit in her hand, even nibbling on the long plush rabbit ears. The little girl had been living with the wet nurse until today. Only occasionally did Thomas visit the child with Mrs. Hughes. However, when Emma turned one year old, the wet nurse announced that she no longer wanted to take care for the child, so the child moved to Downton Abbey in Thomas's room less than two months later.

"Dada!" the girl announced happily, her hands reaching up, "Dada!"

"Emma is calling for you," Gwen said. Thomas put out his cigarette in the ashtray. His eyes still focused on the little child - Emma's first words. Finally, no more crying or screaming, but real words coming from her lips.

"Shall the child call," O'Brien said nastily. "Just because she makes a peep doesn't mean you have to teach her that you'll come straight away."

But that's exactly what Thomas did. His child called for him for the first time. Of course, he would rush to her immediately, "I'm here. Daddy's here, did you miss me, little dwarf?" Thomas asked, swinging the child up in his arms. Emma giggled as she nodded again in agreement.

"Did you have a restful nap?" he asked next. The child nodded eagerly.

"Shall we walk together?" Thomas asked the next question. Emma looked at him confused. Thomas grinned. He put the girl back on the floor. At 14 months, the child was old enough, in his opinion, to walk. She stood wobbly on her legs and held her father's hands tighter than ever before. Slowly, the girl started her exploration of the servants' room, taking one step after the other.

"Just because Mrs. Hughes thinks you should spend time with her doesn't mean you have to do it," Mrs. O'Brien cleared her throat.

"Oh, but I have to, don't I, Miss Emma? Do you want to spend time with your daddy?" he asked in a childish tone. Bates may disapprove of his approach regarding Daisy, but he couldn't put him on the list of worst fathers. He did care about his child. He followed Mrs. Hughes' requests, all to maintain his reputation, or rather, to improve his standing with the upstairs.

Emma babbled happily.

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily call it talking," said O'Brien.

"Mrs. Hughes goes out for one evening and everything falls apart here!" Carson's voice muttered through the kitchen.

"Mister Carson, we were wondering if we could go to the fair after dinner," Thomas asked for the group.

Carson let out a groaning sound, "I suppose so, but don't come back too late." As he turned towards the pantry, he caught a glimpse of the toddler out of the corner of his eye, "You are taking her with you, I hope."

"Well, Mister Carson, actually we were planning on going without the baby," Thomas hesitated with his response. Anna was sick in bed, and Mrs. Hughes had her free night. It was only now that Thomas realized a big problem. Someone had to look after Emma and put her to bed.

"Then find a solution. I certainly won't be looking after your child!" With these words, Carson disappeared. "God forbid that poor child," Thomas murmured softly to himself. The thought of Carson looking after his child made him shudder. He certainly had very different plans for the child.

The only solution Thomas found was O'Brien. The nasty maid initially refused, "I definitely won't be changing any diapers," she made it clear, "And I won't be feeding her either." Thomas could understand all of that very well. Emma preferred to throw the food around rather than eat it. And he gladly left the annoying task of changing diapers to Mrs. Hughes, Anna, or Patmore.

"Just a few hours," he pleaded, "I'll put her to sleep, and if she wakes up, you just have to hand her the bunny and put the pacifier in her mouth. She's totally low-maintenance."

"Fine, but you owe me something."

Although O'Brien heard the loud crying of a child, she didn't bother to go and check on the child.

"Thomas' daughter is calling for you," Bates noted. After all, they were all sitting together in the servants' quarters. O'Brien simply shrugged indifferently.

"Shall I go and check if everything's okay?" Tom Branson offered.

"The brat will surely stop soon enough," and as if the girl had heard her, the crying stopped.

However, young Emma didn't stop crying on her own, but Mr. Carson heard her loud cries.

"Shh," he spoke softly as he lifted her up into his arms, "What's the matter, Miss Emma Grace?" he stooped down, picking up her stuffed bunny with his free hand, "Has he fallen out of your bed?" Emma nodded, wiping her nose with her hand, then smearing the snot on Carson's livery before reaching for her bunny. "I'll forgive you this... just once," he said as he settled into the armchair.

"Your father didn't choose the best nanny for tonight, huh? Was Miss O'Brien even up here?" Carson ran his hand over the soft, thin baby hair. Thomas' room was neatly organized, not giving the impression that a young child also lived here.

"Are you feeling better now? Have you recovered from your crying?" But Emma shook her head, "Dada," she demanded.

"It seems you have to stick to me for the evening," Carson picked up one of the books from the bedside table – The Tale of Peter Rabbit – making a grunting sound, "I doubt very much that Thomas reads you stories..." he shook his head incredulously.

Half a chapter was enough, and little Emma fell fast asleep in his arms. He gently laid her back in her crib.

Bates grabbed Thomas by the collar, pressing him firmly against the wall. "Now listen to me, you disgusting dirty rat... if you don't leave him alone, I'll knock your shiny teeth right into the back of your head," Bates whispered quietly. Thomas didn't flinch under his touch, much to Bates' disappointment.

"Does it frighten me, Mr. Bates? If it does, it doesn't work... I'm sorry, but it just doesn't work," Thomas breathed. Bates let go, Thomas straightened his shirt and continued on his way to the bedroom, as Bates called after him, "Oh, by the way, Thomas. Your daughter was screaming quite loudly earlier, but Mrs. O'Brien didn't think it necessary to check on her." Bates paused briefly. "But I suppose you consciously accepted that, didn't you? It's just unbelievable how you treat the girl. You're a real deadbeat dad."

Thomas stopped, but didn't turn around to face Bates. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, swallowing down what he would have liked to retort. He certainly wasn't a deadbeat dad.