Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Trip to London (July 1923)

What nobody in the household staff would ever find out was the little secret Emma carried with her. Year after year, since that dreadful day when she learned of the death of her favourite servant William, she returned quietly to his grave. It was a private ritual, a kind of silent farewell that she observed in her own unique way. So, five years later, now older but with the same sad gleam in her eyes, she sat on the green grass in front of the simple cross that bore his name. The wind rustled gently through the blades of grass as Emma, sitting with her legs crossed and lightly tugging at the hem of her dress with her fingers, spoke softly to herself.

"I haven't told you yet, but last year I won the reading competition at school," she said proudly, her voice clear and steady. "But that probably doesn't surprise you. You always said I was good at reading." She smiled faintly, her words echoing softly in the peaceful stillness. Fresh flowers lay on the grave—a colourful bouquet she had picked herself. Next to them, she noticed another, carefully tied bouquet. Mister Mason had probably already been here to visit his son.

Emma looked at the flowers, sighed quietly, and turned her gaze back to the grave cross. "Do you remember *The Jungle Book*?" she asked, as if William were really there, as if his voice could be carried on the wind. Of course, she would receive no answer, but Emma was certain that if William could hear her, he would smile and nod—just as he always did when she told him her stories.

"It was your book," she murmured, pulling a well-worn, leather-bound copy of The Jungle Book from her bag. The book was old, its pages slightly yellowed, but it bore the marks of many hands that had read and loved it. She opened it carefully, the pages crackling softly under her delicate fingers. On the last page, which she had only truly noticed after all these years, there was an inscription—a simple, loving dedication from Mr and Mrs Mason to their son.

"It took me five years to turn to the last page of the book," she said with a wistful smile. "To discover that it was once your book, a birthday gift to you." Her fingers gently traced the ink that had endured through so many years, as if she could renew her connection to William through this touch. She took a deep breath and turned to the first page. Her eyes lingered on the familiar words.

In a soft voice, she began to read, "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Mowgli..."

Flashback 1916

It was a cold March morning when Emma celebrated her fourth birthday. The atmosphere at Downton Abbey was festive, but also tinged with a quiet melancholy. The household staff had gathered in the grand dining room to sing a birthday song for the little girl.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear Emma," everyone sang, and Mr Carson solemnly added "Grace." Emma, her eyes wide and shining, gazed at the apple and vanilla pudding cake, on which four small candles were burning.

"Remember, you have to make a wish before you blow out the candles," Mrs Hughes reminded her with a warm smile. William, standing beside Emma, winked at her and added, "And don't tell anyone your wish, or it won't come true."

Emma chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. So many wishes swirled through her mind: a little puppy, a dollhouse, a new doll, lovely clothes for her dolls—and, of course, her Daddy. She took a deep breath, then nodded eagerly. With a determined expression, she leaned forward and blew out all four candles in one go.

After the applause had faded, Emma began unwrapping her presents. The servants had made a real effort. Anna, Mrs Hughes, and Mr Carson had given her new clothes for the upcoming spring. William handed her a small, lovingly bound book. On the first page, he had left a message: