Being a Barrow - A Sequel to Barrow's Boy

Apparitio Raphaelis

     Theodore was hopeful, as he approached the back of the building, of two things. First, that they would let him in or let him wait outside- though, in the November chill, going inside was preferable. Secondly, that their shifts remained the same on a weekly basis.

      He was lucky that there was someone outside as he walked into the alley, and Theodore spoke to pull his attention away from his cigarette. 

     "Excuse me?" The waiter looked over, scowl on his face. Well, he seemed friendly. "Is Alfred Nugent working tonight?"

    "What's it to you?"

     Theodore considered for a moment, then decided to do what his father would do.

     "I've a message for him from the Earl of Grantham. Of course, if he's busy, I'm happy to wait. But I need to deliver the message tonight."

     "Nugent should be off in a cock and a hen. I'll tell him someone's waiting." 

     The waiter put out his cigarette against the wall, dropped it and walked inside before Theodore could ask for any more information. No matter, Teddy could wait.

    He leaned against the wall opposite to the back door, staring at it as he went over his study material in his head. Rutherford was testing them on their last five topics at the end of the upcoming week; sleep and dreaming, the maternal brain, trauma and shell shock, sexuality, and anxiety. They were going over the final topic in their next class. 

     As Theodore went over the types of dreaming- prophetic, don't forget prophetic- the door opened, revealing a nostalgically familiar tall frame. They stared at each other for a moment before Teddy stood upright, taking a few steps over.

    "I wondered what Greg was on about when he mentioned an earl," Alfred acknowledged. Teddy almost laughed.

     "Well, I lied a little, I'm afraid. I didn't want him to send me away."

     "And why not?"

     Theodore wasn't sure why he was doing this; he and Alfred had never been particularly close. But, in a city where Theodore had felt removed from everything he had ever known, Alfred's appearance at that godforsaken dinner had been like a fresh breath of home.

      "I wanted to apologize to you for what happened at dinner last week. Whittemore's a twat, but I was with him, so I feel partly responsible."

     Alfred's brow furrowed.

     "You were the only one saying anything." He offered.

      "Because I know," Theodore replied. "I know what it's like to be on the bottom rung. And while we've both worked our way up in some form, I still carry a bit of that with me, and I suspect you do too."

     Alfred nodded, letting Teddy continue.

    "I know that you can cook, so this might be a stupid apology gift," Theodore began, holding out the box in his hands, "but these are one of my mum's old recipes, and I've often been told that her desserts are bites of blessings. Which are not my words, but I think you get the point."

     "I don't need an apology gift," Alfred answered, though he took the box. "I deal with that a lot."

     "All the more reason for you to have some treats to look forward to."

    "Teddy-"

     Teddy. If seeing Alfred was a breath of home, that word from him was like a hot cuppa in his hands while he sat by the fire in the servants' hall.