Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

A New Year (January 1920)

"You're making the whole corridor dirty," scolded Mister Carson. He was still quite cross about the incident from the day before when he had slipped on Emma's scattered toys. Emma cast her eyes down, filled with uncertainty. Her little heart raced with fear of getting into trouble again. She had only brought in a bit of slush, but for Mister Carson, it seemed an unforgivable offense.

"It's just snow," Emma tried to explain timidly.

Mister Carson sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I can see that," he grumbled.

At that moment, Thomas stepped forward - he had been outside having a smoke - and gently placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Is there an issue?"

"I was merely pointing out the dirt to Emma Grace," Mister Carson replied.

"It's not my place to say, but I'd let one of the housemaids know," Thomas said.

Carson was visibly close to exploding, which he likely would have done if Mrs. Hughes hadn't appeared. "I've already taken care of it. Anna will clean up the mess right away."

Thomas discreetly pulled his daughter with him. They should settle the matter privately, and that's exactly what they did.

"Do you not think you're being a tad harsh on Emma?" Mrs. Hughes gently inquired as she settled into the chair opposite Mister Carson with her teacup in hand.

"By no means," grumbled Carson as he sipped his tea. "Discipline and order are of the utmost importance in this house. If we become lax, everything will fall into disarray."

Mrs. Hughes looked at him with concern in her eyes. "I understand your desire for order and tradition, Mister Carson, but don't forget that Emma is just a child."

Carson leaned back in his chair. "Are you defending Thomas's poor parenting, then?"

"You underestimate Thomas - as I think we all likely do - but he's raising his daughter quite well."

"I beg to differ."

The wooden piece moved across the game board. There was indeed a spirit present, and she fervently hoped that this spirit would be her mother. After all, her dad never talked about her mother. He always changed the subject whenever she mentioned the word ‚Mom.' Maybe her parents had a falling out? After all, he seemed not to have a high opinion of her. Or was he so full of grief that he couldn't talk about her?

"What's going on?" Thomas appeared behind them.

"Miss O'Brien has made contact with Mama," Emma smiled.

"She did?" Barrow's gaze landed on Sarah O'Brien, who grinned mischievously. And surely had nothing good in mind for the child. He couldn't shake the feeling that O'Brien was trying to push the child out of his life.

"It's getting late, I think you should go to bed," Thomas finally said.

"Please, Dad! I want to know what Mama wants to tell me!"

"Emma!" Thomas looked at her with a warning. She was breaking one of his established rules, and he absolutely despised it when the child tried to challenge his authority as a father on some days.

"But Da..." Emma immediately stopped her plea when she saw her father's angry eyes. She sighed and quickly left the room.

Thomas lit a cigarette and took a strong drag. "I don't want any false hopes being raised. I suggest, O'Brien, that you henceforth keep away from Emma. We wouldn't want your bad influence rubbing off on the child."