Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Curfew (May 1921)

"Dad," said Emma. Thomas raised a skeptical eyebrow. He was all too familiar with that tone.

"I'm 9 years old now," Emma began confidently. "So, I'm not a little kid anymore." Thomas took a drag of his cigarette, waiting to see where his daughter was going with this. He sat across from her, keeping his promise not to smoke next to her.

"I've become more responsible, behave almost all the time, and I'm punctual," Emma continued, searching for more convincing arguments. "And it's going to be summer..."

Thomas could sense that she was getting to the point. He lowered his cigarette and looked at her attentively. "So, what's it, Emma?" he finally asked.

"All I'm asking is to push my curfew back by two hours," Emma said softly, as if expecting rejection.

Thomas studied his child for a moment before firmly saying, "No," and bringing the cigarette back to his mouth.

"Why not?" Emma asked disappointedly.

"Your first argument is unfortunately against it," Thomas replied, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"But I can't change my age! I won't turn 10 until next year!" Emma defended herself.

"Even that wouldn't be enough," he chuckled and exhaled the smoke slowly.

"But everyone else is allowed!" Emma argued.

"But you're not everyone," Thomas pointed out. "Being out two hours later would mean missing supper."

"Mrs. Patmore surely wouldn't mind..." Emma tried to explain, but Thomas cut her off immediately.

"No, Emma." He shook his head decisively. "There are rules that must be followed."

Emma sighed in frustration. "But all my friends get to stay out later."

"That's nice for them," Thomas dryly replied, "but we have our own rules."

Emma looked disappointedly at the floor. "It's so unfair! I'm not a little kid anymore!"

"Life has never been fair," Thomas said, putting the cigarette aside. "You should have understood that by now."

Emma sighed in disappointment. "I thought you were the best dad. Clearly, you're not," and she left the servants' hall.

Thomas sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching her leave with mixed feelings.

"What's going on with Emma?" wondered Anna, entering the servants' hall and taking a seat on one of the empty chairs.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Thomas replied curtly, bringing the cigarette to his mouth again.

Anna observed Thomas with a raised eyebrow before deciding to let the matter rest for now. She knew if she said anything now, Thomas would again mock her for not having a clue about raising children.

Emma sat on her bed, completely engrossed in her book when Thomas entered the room late at night. Thomas sighed, sat down beside her on the bed, and placed his hand on Emma's shoulder. "Some decisions are not easy for me either."

"The answer came pretty quickly," Emma remarked.

Thomas struggled to find a suitable response to Emma's comment. "Yes, but only because I want the best for you."

Emma looked at him with wide eyes, and in that moment, Thomas could see the disappointment in her gaze. He briefly considered how to better explain the situation.