Being a Barrow - A Sequel to Barrow's Boy

We All Grieve Somehow

      When Teddy was three, he had a pair of little Wellington boots. They must have been bought by his Mum or Grandpa Augustus, but that didn't quite matter at this point. They were yellow, the bright kind that little children associated with joy and sunshine and baby ducks. Any time it rained enough to leave puddles, Teddy would be told to wear his yellow Welly boots. He never complained. He loved those boots. Loved splashing in the puddles with them, seeing the water droplets fly into the air. Loved hearing his Mum's laugh when he did so.

     Thomas hadn't seen him wearing them often, if only by the fact that he was away working in Downton and only saw Eliza and Teddy on the rare occasion. He'd definitely seen them on the boy once or twice though. 

     When Thomas had taken Theodore to Downton, he didn't bring the boots. It hadn't been intentional. Diana had said she'd packed everything Teddy would need, and Thomas, in his youth and grief, hadn't even thought to bring the boots. The first time it had rained after they moved, little Teddy had cried about not having his boots. All Thomas could do was reassure the boy that his other shoes would work fine. But no, Teddy wanted his welly boots, which they didn't have.

    Thinking of it now, Teddy's crying must have been about more than the boots. The boy had never been superficial, never cared about material things enough for that. What he had cared about was the meanings, the memories. The mother who held his hand while he jumped in the puddles, who wasn't there to do so with him now. He had been only three: of course he had latched onto the boots as what he was missing. How was a child that young supposed to understand grief?

     "It's raining," Ashton observed, turning away from the window to look at Theodore. "Are you sure that you want to do this now?"

     "When else can I?" Theodore replied simply, though he did grab his coat to adjust to the weather update. 

     "I just worry that something will happen to you."

     "I don't want anyone else to go through what I went through last year," Theodore reminded Ashton. He checked over his things again; coat, wallet, matches, letter, mask. All there. 

     "I know, I know," Ashton acquiesced. "I wish I could come with you."

     "Edgar Ashton, if you don't go spend time with your nieces and nephew because of me-"

      Ashton laughed, to which Theodore smiled. He grabbed his mask, putting it over his eyes, and spread his arms.

     "How do I look, then?"

     "Like Pauperis."

     "Brilliant." 

     Ashton smiled, gathering his own belongings for when he'd soon be leaving to visit his sister.  Theodore glanced down at his belongings again, then paused. If Ashton was leaving, he'd need his keys. And where were they? With a hum, he walked off, going to his room to see if he'd left them on his desk. 

    He hadn't, and so Theodore was left to begin the fun gain of wandering around his room and looking in the odd spots he may have absentmindedly placed them. He heard the flat's front door opening and closing from outside his room. It must have been Adhton leaving, Theodore assumed. With a sigh, realizing that his keys must be elsewhere in the flat, Theodore left his room, mask still securely on his face. 

      "Teddy?"

      Theodore paused and looked up, eyes locking with Abigail's. She stood by the sofa, her damp coat folded over her arm. Ashton was behind her, looking over at them as he put on his coat.