Chapter Text
The smoke slowly drifted above Thomas’s head as he exhaled, rising to join the small white clouds that peppered the sky above him. The evening was cold but still, the trees silent without the wind blowing through them. Thomas took another deep inhale, feeling the way it burned ever so slightly in his chest, reminding him that he was alive. Something which, a few months ago, he would have detested.
But he was getting better now. Yes, sometimes he still wished that he had died that day, that he didn’t have to deal with anyone anymore, that he could just finally be free. But he was getting better. He knew that these sorts of things didn’t solve themselves in a week. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was Thomas Barrow.
He blew it out and watched it ascend to the heavens. He rummaged with his left hand in his jacket, looking for his pocket watch to check the time. Quarter to ten. He had finished the family’s dinner before he came out for his smoke but still had a bit to wait before the servant’s tea. He deigned to go back in at ten. Fifteen minutes of uninterrupted peace.
There was a rustle from the bushes to his right.
It was probably just a fox or a badger or some other nocturnal animal drawn out by the promise of prey. Nothing to worry about. There were all manner of furry friends living just outside the walls of the abbey, he often heard foxes yelling outside his window at night. It was probably just one of them.
There was another rustle and a small noise that made Thomas’s brow furrow.
Whatever it was that was making all that noise sounded injured. It wouldn’t hurt to check if it was okay. Thomas dropped his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it under his foot, before wandering over to the bush as quietly as his stiff leather shoes could manage, not wanting to scare it away.
A small cry emanated from the bush.
He parted the leaves and looked down, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. What he saw inside was most definitely not a fox, or a badger. At first, it looked like a bundle of blankets, off-white and rather ratty looking. But then a tiny, chubby, hand poked out and Thomas’s mouth fell open at the realisation that it was a baby.
But where was its mother?
“Hello?” Thomas said aloud, looking around the dark courtyard for the parents. But it was empty. He was the only person there. “Hello?!” He called a bit louder. The bundle of blankets wriggled in response.
Thomas bent down and ever so gently picked it up, holding it gingerly in his arms as he unwrapped the many layers of blanket to reveal a small face, big blue eyes staring up at him. Barrow cradled the baby in the nook of his left arm as he looked into the bush, hoping to find a note, a letter, anything to signal what the baby was doing there.
But the bush was empty.
Thomas looked back to the child. It was small, so small, and it hardly weighed a thing. As he wiped a smudge of dirt off its cheek, he felt just how cold it was. It needed to be inside. After one last look around the courtyard for the missing parents, Thomas made his way over to the back door, pushing it open with his foot.
“What’ve you got there?” Andy asked as Thomas entered, the baby pressed tight against his body.
“It’s a baby. Can you get Mrs Hughes or Mr Carson? And maybe a hot water bottle. I think it’s cold.” Thomas said quickly, readjusting the baby so it was upright, its head against his shoulder, his left hand cradling the back of it as he walked to the servant’s hall, intending to warm it up by the fire.
The servants' hall was empty when he entered so he sat down in his rocking chair silently, placing the baby in his lap as he shed his jacket, wrapping it around the child in an attempt to warm it up. It seemed to work, with the help of the fire too. Thomas held the back of his right hand to its forehead, feeling that it was marginally less cold than before.
“Who’s baby is that?” Asked someone from behind him. Thomas turned around to see Anna Bates lowering herself into a chair, a hand pressed to her belly. It wouldn’t be long until her own child was born.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Thomas muttered, turning back to the babe, wrapped in dirty swaddling clothes and his own jacket.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Anna asked, pushing herself back up from the chair to stand behind Thomas and look over his shoulder at the baby.
“I just found it. In the yard.” He explained as the baby began to suck gently on his pinky finger. “I think it’s hungry.”
Anna sounded like she was about to say something but was cut off as Mrs Hughes entered the hall, Andy hot on her heels.
“Andy’s told me you’ve got a baby.” She said, staring down at the baby that was now biting Thomas’s finger with its toothless gums.
“I found it in the yard. No one else was there.” He said, trying to pull his finger out of its mouth. “Is there anything we can feed it? It ent half nippy.”
“I can go and see if there’s any baby formula left from when Master George and Miss Sybbie were young.” Andy offered from behind the housekeeper.
“I doubt there’ll be any but it’s worth a try.” Muttered Thomas stroking his hand over the top of the baby’s head, pulling the blanket back to reveal soft blonde hair.
“We should call the police or- or the doctor-” Mrs Hughes started but was cut off by a voice from the door.
“Excuse me, Mrs Hughes, but do you have a moment to discuss tomorrow’s menu with Mrs Patmore and myself?” Came the soft voice of Lady Cora.
“I’m sorry, your ladyship, but I’ve got to go and call the police. Mr Barrow found a baby outside.” The housekeeper explained quickly, gesturing to the bundle that Thomas held to his chest.
“Oh, goodness, of course, you must call the police!” Cora gushed, holding a delicate hand to her mouth as she looked down at what Thomas was gently cradling. Mrs Hughes left for the butler’s pantry as the others stared at the baby, yet again nibbling gently on Thomas’s finger.
“Do you know if we have any baby formula, your ladyship?” Thomas asked, not looking up from the blue eyes that were fixed on his. “I sent Andy to go and look but he hasn’t returned and I think it’s rather hungry.”
“I don’t think so, sorry. Sybbie had a wet nurse and George was fed by Mary until he could eat solids.” The lady replied and Thomas sighed, looking down at the baby.
“I could feed it.” Anna offered and Thomas turned to look up at her.
“Really? You’d do that?” He asked.
The more Thomas thought about it, he wasn’t surprised. Anna was nearing the end of her pregnancy and he knew that women began to produce milk at that stage, even if there wasn’t a baby to drink any of it. And she was a naturally kind hearted individual, she had no problems sharing, especially if it was something she actually wanted to get rid of.
“Of course, I don’t want it going hungry.” She said plainly.
“That’s very kind of you, Anna.” The older woman said and the lady’s maid just smiled back at her.
“We’ll have to find you somewhere a bit more private.” Thomas said as Mrs Hughes re-entered. “That was fast.”
“I only really had to tell them what happened and where we are. They said they’d send someone round within the hour.” Mrs Hughes said, looking at the baby that Thomas was gently rocking. “How is it?”
“Not as cold.” Thomas answered, holding a hand to its tiny forehead again. “It’s still hungry but Anna’s offered to feed it, do you know of anywhere private that she could go?”
“She can use my sitting room if she likes.” Mrs Hughes offered, jangling the many keys on her belt to find the right one. She held it out and Anna stepped forward, taking it. “So no one interrupts.”
“Thank you.” Anna said, before opening her arms ready to take the baby.
Thomas stood slowly, not wanting to jostle it too much, before passing it over into Anna’s welcoming arms. She held it for a moment, silent, before it opened its eyes and realised that someone new was holding it. The small, pale face screwed up and turned red, eyes filling with tears. Anna quickly passed it back.
“Maybe you should carry it.” She said as Thomas adjusted his arms around the baby.
“Yes, maybe I should.” The baby was quiet again, shutting its eyes as it settled into Thomas.
Anna waddled to Mrs Hughes’s sitting room and Thomas was close behind her, holding the bundle of cloth as still as possible. The lady’s maid unlocked the door and held it open for Thomas. He hesitated.
“You want me to come with you?” His voice was thick with confusion.
“I think you’ll have to, unless we want a screaming fit from Mr or Miss clingy here.” Anna said calmly, gesturing for him to walk in. He supposed she did have a point.
He entered, slowly settling on a chair as Anna closed and locked the door before sitting down on the chair next to him. Thomas held the baby tight to his chest as she began to unbutton her shirt.
“I’m keeping me eyes shut.” He said firmly and Anna chuckled.
“I don’t mind that much Thomas.” She said softly.
“I think your husband would and I don’t fancy getting into a fight with him right now.” Thomas joked and Anna smiled.
She hadn’t heard Thomas joke or speak lightly in months, not since before his… flu. Of course, he’d laugh a bit with the other servants, but he hardly ever made his own jokes. It warmed her heart to see glimpses of the old Thomas.
“Maybe if you keep one hand on him while I feed, he won’t cry.” Anna suggested as she gently took the baby from Thomas’s hands, his eyes still shut. Thomas let one hand rest on the back of the baby’s head and Anna placed her’s atop of his, guiding its head to the food. “You can open your eyes now.”
Thomas did and his eyes instantly met those of the baby, who was staring up at him intently as it suckled. He stroked his hand over the soft golden hair, so thin and delicate it looked as if it had been woven by spiders. The baby rested perfectly on the bump of Anna’s belly, but Thomas doubted that was very comfortable for the woman.
“It knows what it’s doing.” Anna muttered as the baby fed.
“That’s good, isn’t it? It means it had a loving mother who fed it.” Thomas whispered, still staring down at the child.
“I hope they find her.” Anna answered, her hand still holding Thomas’s.
Thomas hoped they didn’t. But he didn’t say that. It was wrong to say that. The baby needed its mother. Anything else was just wishful thinking.
Anna fed the baby in silence for a moment more before it began to pull away, closing its mouth. “I think it’s full.” The lady’s maid said and Thomas shut his eyes again as he pulled the baby back onto his lap. “I’m dressed, you can open your eyes again.” Anna chuckled, a little shocked by Thomas’s attempts at propriety.
The baby was, yet again, staring up at him and it gurgled happily as Thomas brushed a finger over its cheek. “Feeling happier now, hm?” Barrow muttered as he hoisted the baby over his shoulder, patting its back gently.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Anna asked as she slowly stood, a hand on her belly.
“My mother had a few babies after me. I usually cared for them when they were very little.” Thomas explained. He always blamed himself when they didn’t last very long. But it was best not to think about it now.
“I didn’t know you’ve got siblings.” Anna stated as she watched him.
“I’ve only got the one. An older sister.” He said flatly, watching Anna’s face drop.
“Oh, I’m-”
A knock at the door interrupted her sentence.
“Anna? The police are here.” Mrs Hughes's voice drifted under the door and Anna walked over to unlock it.
“Thank you for coming to get us.” She said and the housekeeper peered over her shoulder at where Thomas held the baby.
“All fed?” She asked and Thomas nodded, moving the baby so it was cradled in his left arm and Mrs Hughes could see its face.
“Who’s a happy baby with a full tummy?” Thomas muttered in an uncharacteristically high voice, looking down at it’s perfect chubby cheeks and rose lips. He knew that babies that young couldn’t yet smile but he liked to think that if it could, it would.
“Bless the bairn.” Mrs Hughes sighed as she watched Thomas fuss over it. How someone could abandon a baby that cute was beyond her. Though she supposed she didn’t know the mother’s circumstances. Maybe she was just another Ethel. “The police are waiting in the servant’s hall.”
“Thank you.” Thomas said before silently walking past her, baby in arm, to the servants hall.
Carson sat in his usual seat at the servant’s table and he glared at Thomas as he walked in, as if it was his fault that the baby had been left in their yard. Thomas supposed that, in Carson’s book, everything was the underbutler’s fault. Miss Baxter and Andy sat at the table, as well as two men, who Barrow assumed were policemen. The men took off their hats and nodded at him as he walked in.
“This the abandoned wean then?” One of them, the taller one, asked in a strong brogue, pointing to the small face poking from the bundle of cloths. Thomas nodded. “Have a seat, we just want to ask you a few questions to try and get to the bottom of this.”
The shorter one pulled out the chair and patted it. Thomas slowly sat down, still cradling the baby in his left arm, the right one gently stroking its soft hair. As he made himself comfortable, Lord and Lady Grantham appeared at the door, looking on in curiosity but not speaking.
“I’m Detective Inspector Evans, this is Constable Thaw.” The taller man said.
“Thomas Barrow.” The underbutler replied, tipping his head.
“Now, when exactly was it that you found it?” Evans asked and Thomas thought back.
“Nine forty-five.” He replied, remembering checking his pocket watch just before he heard the rustling. Thaw wrote something on his notepad.
“And can you describe how you discovered the baby? What were you doing?”
“I was having a smoke in the yard and some strange noises came from the bushes. I went over to look and then I found it, just lying on the floor.” Thomas relayed.
“There was nothing else with him? Or her?” The tall one enquired.
“Not that I could see. And we haven’t checked the sex yet.” Thomas explained, still gently rocking the bundle.
“We’ll need to know for the report. May I?” Asked Thaw, holding his arms out to take the baby.
Thomas hesitated for a moment but eventually unwrapped it from his jacket and passed it over. It seemed to be sleeping, but as the men began to peel back the layers of off-white cloth, it opened its eyes. Then started the crying. The sound was so loud and piercing that Constable Thaw had to stop for a moment and try to shush it, with no avail.
“Just carry on.” Evans ordered as Thomas fidgeted, itching to pick the baby back up and calm it.
“What’s this?” The constable asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he pulled a scrunched up piece of paper from the bundle. Like a bleeding pass the parcel, Thomas internally chuckled.
“Looks like a note or something.” Evans observed, stating the very obvious.
“Can I hold it again?” Thomas asked, his ears aching from the din. The Detective Inspector nodded and Barrow quickly picked the bundle up, folding the cloths back into place around its small body and holding it close to his chest. Miraculously, its sobs let up after just a second of Thomas’s warm embrace and the room breathed a sigh of relief.
“ I’m sorry, please look after him. ” Evans read from the note Thaw gave him. “Fat lot of good that does us. At least we know it’s a him now.”
“So what does that mean?” Lord Grantham asked from the doorway.
“I’ve seen it before, young mothers abandoning their children at houses where they think they’d be better off.” Evans explained as Thomas looked down into the wet blue eyes of the baby. “It’s not as uncommon as you’d think.”
“We’re just to look after him then?” Robert asked.
“Of course not. What the mother did was incredibly selfish and cowardly, you shouldn't have to pay the price.” Evans said. Thomas grimaced slightly at his words. The mother must have been in a very difficult situation to give up her baby like that, she wasn’t cowardly.
Evans continued, “if the mother has left him here voluntarily, there’s not much use looking for her, though we will ask around and see if anyone saw a pregnant lady or someone with a baby in these past few days. I doubt we’ll get anywhere, you never do with these sorts of cases. I suggest you either send the baby to somewhere like bluebell house or find someone to adopt him.”
Bluebell house. Thomas had heard horror stories about that place, how they mistreated the children something horrific, forcing them to work as soon as they were old enough to talk. They couldn’t send the baby there. It was as good as a death sentence, or at least a you’ll-have-a-horrible-life sentence.
But adoption… would anyone in the village be willing to take on a baby at such short notice? What if they didn’t look after him properly? What if they mistreated him or couldn’t afford to look after him? No, that just wouldn’t do. Thomas decided that there was only one option left.
“I’ll adopt him.”