Branson & Barrow Go To New York

The Decision

The quiet jazz poured out of the narrow windows that encased Mr Barrows bar.
It had been a rather slow evening, with only a few people left in there. It was 1am and Thomas and Tom sat at the bar counter, drinking and talking.
"So, Mr Branson. Why is it that The Irishman is shut tonight?" Thomas asked with a slight slur of drunkenness, slapping Tom on the back with a pat. Giggling slightly Tom replied,
"Because Mr Barrow, it's somebody's birthday tomorrow, and it's getting prepped!" He said excitedly.
The two men were quite blatantly sloshed on alcohol.
"I think you mean today," Thomas said tunefully, pointing at the clock. Tom's eyes widened and he gave a huge grin saying, "Happy Birthday Thomas!" They both leaned in and hugged each other gleefully.
"Oh stop it, another year older and I still don't understand how we got here."
He trailed off slightly and they both looked to the floor thoughtfully.
"How did we get here?" asked Tom rhetorically. "I'll tell you." And they cast their minds back to 1913.

Mr Barrow sat in the servants hall rather lazily. William had been pestering him all day about something to do with the silverware. Thomas couldn't be bothered with him today.
Something had been nagging at him from the back of his mind for a while now, and today for some reason it had seemed to hit him full force.
He wanted a life out of service. He couldn't stay a footman forever, and he certainly couldn't live with Carson bellowing orders at him everyday for the rest of his life. No, Thomas had much bigger ambitions than that. Slouching into his chair slightly by the fire, he shut his eyes and peacefully tried imagine his life without Downton.
Living in New York, surrounded by the sights, opportunities round every corner. He could do well for himself there. A small modern bar, open to all kinds of people; no judgements once you enter through the doors. Might be lonely to begin with, but in America anythings possible. Right?
He sighed openly; he knew he was giving himself false hope. For him to find love was an impossible task. Sure he could like someone, but to truly love someone... No, he daren't think it.

The near silence of the servants hall was interrupted by Mr Branson entering with the newspaper. Thomas couldn't deny he was fond of Tom. He found his extreme politics a little hard to bare with at times, but his sharp wit and general uplifting mood made up for it.
As Tom sat down he opened the papers. 'Chances of War rising fast'. The thought of fighting in a war didn't necessarily scare Tom, but it did disgust him. Murder, he couldn't even imagine it. No matter how opinionated he may be on some of the worlds political leaders, he could never picture killing one of them himself. So when you compare that to shooting an innocent young lad, who's probably fighting in a war in which he has no clue as to why it started, it was just simply unthinkable.
He brushed the thoughts of though, and whilst reading some of the columns, his mind eventually began to drift to the though of Lady Sybil.
He had to start thinking reasonably, despite how lovely she was, it was clear to see nothing could come of it. He'd spoken with her enough to know she is kind-hearted, and it's plain enough to see how beautiful she is. Tom smirked slightly but it disappeared when he let the saddening reality set back in.
It wouldn't happen, he couldn't let it.
After pondering over his thoughts, his mind eventually started to wonder a little more, to think about his life in the bigger picture. He couldn't be a chauffeur forever, he had to do something meaningful in his life, not just serve those who claim rights above him.
He often thought about America, he'd heard a lot about it from both upstairs and down. It's modern vibe seemed to equalise as modern politics in Tom's head. That of course pleased him, and it was at that moment he thought, for now I can't concern myself with love, it's my future I need to think about.

"You alright Mr Branson?" Thomas asked, breaking him out of his little daydream.
"Quite alright thank you Thomas, why d'ya ask?"
"You just seemed a little lost in thought is all," replied Thomas.
"Just thinkin' of the future is all. Thinkin' what can I do with my life when I'm long gone from here..."
"You planning on leavin' anytime soon then?" Thomas asked almost sarcastically as he smiled at the chauffeur.
"Oh I don't know. Not yet, but one day. Thinking America would be a good place for me."
Thomas raised an eyebrow, "believe it or not, I've been thinkin' all the same lines recently."
Tom smiled, "well you know what they say, great minds think alike."
Thomas returned the smile, bid Tom goodnight then left for bed. He felt his mind deserved an early night after all these ideas had been bouncing around inside it.