Touches

Chapter 13

The next days, it gets warmer and warmer as dry September heat settles around us, and I hate it. Summer's never been my favourite season as far as I can remember. Most of the time the heat's killing me, slowly but steadily and the fact that Carson has us polishing the silver, again, nearly drives me nutters.

The worst thing is that my plan to make Thomas happy has not yet started, as I'm still hoping that Daisy will have some helpful insight. Just as I'm about to wander into the kitchens to steal a biscuit or anything similar to lighten my mood, the object of my thoughts materialises in front of me.

She jumps up and down as if she's tipsy or has just found out that she'll get a kitten for her upcoming birthday. I look at her with a blank expression on my face, hoping for an explanation for her behaviour rather sooner than later.

She softly grabs my arm and steers me in direction of the hallway, still jumping up and down, until I grab a hold of her shoulders and resolutely try to keep her in place. Her jumping combined with these temperatures makes me dizzy.

Daisy looks at me with a big grin plastered on her face and takes hold of my hands once again. "You'll certainly love me as soon as you hear what I've got to tell you." She concedes light-heartedly and my mood lights a little at her behaviour. "So tell me, make me love you!" I tell her with a playful tone of my own.

She comes even closer to whisper something in my ear and I have to say, I really don't mind her closeness. The happy tone of her voice makes me forget all about the heat or my hate of my job just seconds before...even more so as I hear what she's got to tell me.

"I've found out what you've wanted to know" she begins conspiringly. "They've stolen his pocket-watch." Now that's some information I can work with, my lips curving up with a delighted grin. "How?-" is all I get to say before she whispers on, still standing on tip-toes, one hand put on my chest for support.

"He's been in and out of the kitchens more often than usually, not even there to steal some sweets, like he always does, but just to look at the clock. Normally, he didn't have to do this as he always kept his pocket-watch close by. I remember that he's gotten it as a Christmas present from the family when he's been at Downton for ten years. I believe they've even had it engraved for him and he always valued it a lot. Have never seen him without it, before the accident...probably even been with him when he's gone to sleep..."

And with that I can't help but be overwhelmed by my own thoughts, no, I don't think that he had it with him the night of the...kiss.

But anyway I am thrilled by the news, at least that's somewhere I'm able to start. As a thanks, I hug her enthusiastically against me until I hear a coughing behind us.

And as we distance us from each other I look into the professional mask of one Mr Thomas Barrow.

"This is not the place to fool around with each other, do that in private." He says strictly and at this second I realise that I've never, never, known him to be so stern about anything at all.

Really weird, but I push the thought away as soon as these concerns begin to enter my mind.
It's part of his job to pay attention that everyone's doing his work, and he did just that. Daisy giggles heartily besides me and brings me back into reality. I softly squeeze her hand and thank her for her help which she only acknowledges with an off-handed 'you are welcome, anytime' until she scurries back into the kitchens.

For the next few days, I use every chance to "make myself useful" and run every errand possible for grumpy Carson or the family, as it's always a possibility to further my plan and to get lucky and find Thomas' watch.

But until now, I've got nothing to show for my effort.

Well not nothing, as Carson and Mrs Hughes apparently think that I'm just being helpful to secure my position in Downton and to make them happy. Pffft, they wish.

This evening, I've just come back from a hasty trip to Ripon to fetch a dinner jacket of Mr Branson's, which has been repaired at the tailor's. Hurriedly I went into every other store or seller in the street with no luck. I didn't find the bloody watch. Nonetheless I made use of the opportunity to speak to all the sales people to alert them of my search. Everyone was as kind as to tell me that they'd keep an eye out which would be a great help .

Now there's only Thirsk to go. But I'm really uncertain when I will be able to go there, I'll probably need to wait for my next half-day, which is in a week's time.

As I go up the driveway of the Abbey I can already make out the silhouette of a person standing by the servants' door, smoking.

Must be Thomas, I notice happily, maybe he'll be able to cheer me up a little.

Because of my extra duties this past few days, it's been already about four days that I've last spoken to him in detail. I guess this is the longest time not talking since before we've officially become friends. And I can already feel a prickling in my consciousness that I miss his company and his snarky comments...or even just being near him, smoking together in silence.

I'm slightly overwhelmed by the realisation that he's become such an important person to me in such a short amount of time. My best friend, I notice with a grin to myself.

Now I'm able to make out his form properly I direct the smile in his direction. But the thing I notice next, makes my stomach drop a little: his eyes follow my movements and as soon as I'm close enough that we could talk, he hurriedly drops his eyes and stumps out the fag he smoked, nearly fleeing back into the building.

I really wonder what his reaction has been about?
Did I do something to make him angry with me or even avoid me?

As my thoughts wander around trying to find a clue of any misbehaviour on my side I eventually come up empty-handed. I try to shake my head clear of the dark mood that's suddenly settled around me, but it's not as easy, a gloomy feeling residing in my heart, still.

Did I hurt him in any way?

But before I can brood more about it, I wake up from my lethargy by Mrs Hughes' voice calling me in.

Slowly I stump up the stairs in direction of Mr Branson's chamber to bring back his dinner jacket. He opens the door as soon as my knock resonated from the wood. I simply hold out the bag and wait for his scrutiny if everything is as he wishes.
Some moments later his deep voice rumbles through my dream world, the problem is that I've been deeply closed off and wouldn't be able to describe his words if my life depended on it. I simply didn't hear him.

A hand on my arm surprises me into action and my eyes suddenly fly to his blue-grey ones. A reassuring caring lies in them. "Is everything alright, James? You seem a little off." He asks me with real interest colouring words.

I just shrug my shoulders, before going back into my servants posture, "I'm not sure" I admit uncertainly, knowing that he should be one of the last people I spoke to about this, as he's part of the family.

But he doesn't accept my lack of an explanation, keeping the questions coming. "Is something...or someone troubling you, Jimmy."
I take a deep breath at hearing him address me at my informal title and can't help but wonder how I landed in a situation like this, pouring my heart out to Mr Branson, of all people. But his concern seems genuine, so I explain my doubts about Mr Barrow. His head is slightly tilted to the right as he listens closely to my words about my efforts of searching for Thomas' pocket watch and my insecurities why he would be angry with me and reacted so coldly at even seeing me.

As I've finished my exclamations he pats my arm in a brotherly fashion and tries to encourage me.

"Thomas is quite a peculiar person. I think he'll be really thankful for what you went through to get his watch back, even in case you don't find it." He promises me before continuing. "If I were in your position, I'd just behave as if you didn't notice his reaction before. Just do as if nothing happened and if he's short with you, just ask him about it. From what I've gathered while I still
worked downstairs, he's alone most of the time and maybe he'll just need some time to adjust to having a REAL friend close by. As I don't think O'Brien would count as that in any universe. Or he doubted your friendship when you didn't spend much time with him in the last days. Maybe he's just trying guard his heart a little" He ends with a small laugh and somehow, because of his insistence, I can't help but believe in the truth of his words.

Everything will be alright. I just needn't worry so much.
I thank Mr Branson deeply for his insight before leaving his room again, his words "every time" floating behind me through the hallway. And a little lighter in my heart, I go back down to confront my fears, namely Thomas.

As I make my way downstairs I meet Daisy who's just setting everything up for our dinner. She gives me a friendly smile and musters me with a questioning look. Without needing her to ask the question, I tell her that I wasn't successful in my search, yet.

She comments it with a pitying look and tells me cheekily: "you could take my bicycle the next time you go to town, this way you'll be much faster."

I thank her for her kindness but decline her offer with a doubtful look. Me on a bicycle? - That won't happen any time soon, as I'm certain that this is only to be used by little kids, women or postmen. And as I'm neither of these things, that's out of question.

Well the real problem is that I've never learned how to ride one.

Not that I'm about to give up this fact to anyone. That's a private matter.

In the next minutes everyone begins to filter in, ready for our dinner to start and done with most of the work of this day. Thomas is one of the last people to enter for our meal, and as he steps into the room, normally he'd give me a small smile to acknowledge my existence, but today he just takes his place at the other side of the table and stares at his plate as if it will fill under his close scrutiny.

I try to catch his gaze but he keeps his eyes closely fixed downwards.

Bloody hell, something is definitely amiss with him.
- A dreading thightness settles into my chest and seems to squeeze my heart.

Oh Thomas, what did I do wrong to vex you? I wonder and can't help but be a little depressed again. Mr Branson's words enter my mind, but at the moment I'm really not sure how to act towards my favourite under-butler when dinner will be finished.

I try not to think about it too much and concentrate on the conversations going on around me, contemplating my further behaviour and plan for the evening.

Maybe I should take Daisy up on her offer and take her bicycle on my next day off.

Can't be too hard to manage, I imagine, I've always been rather sportive, so that won't place a problem. One or two tries and I'll get it sorted. I'm quite certain of that. I'll get to it just after dinner's finished. Like this I'll be able to ignore my 'Thomas situation' for a while longer and maybe tomorrow everything will be back to normal again.

Yes, that's what I'll do.

It's thirty minutes later and the last rays of sun are grazing the tops of the trees as I make my way through the courtyard and towards a little shed holding all the supplies for the gardens and some bicycles.

I take a closer look at them, even if it's hard to make out which could be the one of Daisy as it's getting rather dark in here. I crouch closer to one of them to get a better look and notice that the saddle is far too high to be Daisy's, the next one could be a better call as it's got a little basket on the front and on the back. This makes sense, as she'd probably need it to transport some groceries and other things. I take it from its position leaning against a wall and slowly take it outside.

In the minutes I've been inside the shed the sun has set completely and everything is bathed in darkness, which I'm rather thankful of as I definitely don't need one of the other servants, let alone the family, to see me like this.

I steer the bike onto some even ground and swing my leg over the saddle, my feet still solidly on the ground.

So I'll just have to put my feet on the pedals and try to steer forward while moving my legs? - Can't be too hard, can it?

And as I slowly raise my legs to begin my tour, I begin to realise just how HARD this is, because as soon as both my feet leave the ground I feel something pulling me down. Before I'm able to react, a surprised squeak leaves my mouth and I find myself on my side, on the ground.
Ouch. That's humiliating.

Maybe I'll rather try it on the grass, at least this way the fall won't hurt as much. I straighten myself and the bike and push it, with my feet safely on the ground to a close patch of grass. I think I now noticed what I'll need to change.

The key to success is holding my balance.

But as soon as this thought crosses my mind, I'm already toppling over again. And the worst thing is that I already know that it's happening as everything seems as if reality slowed down around me but I can't do anything to avoid the fall.

As I find myself on the ground again, this time in the grass, my concentration gets disturbed by a thundering laugh crossing the night air.

Bollocks, who saw my helpless fumbling's?

The laugh comes nearer to my position on the grass and Thomas holds out his hand to help me up. Apparently I've shocked him into forgetting his anger or whatever negative feelings towards me.

Sadly, somehow I managed to get stuck with the bicycle and he isn't able to help me up that easily. He changes his course of action: he slightly pushes on my shoulder as if to show me to lay back on the grass, his face suddenly only a few inches from mine and my heart can't help but change its beat into an irregular staccato. I can feel the warmness of his breath skimming my face.

Is he going to kiss me? Again?
My thoughts are running a mile a second and everything gets dizzy around me.

Thomas smiles encouragingly down at me and gets back to his full height, without a kiss...
Next he grabs the devil on wheels, taking my leg from its position to untangle them and carefully leans the bike against a tree beside us, his hand speeding down to me again, to help me up properly as well. As he pulls my weight to stand he's slightly grazing his thumb over the back of my hand and a small shiver works its way up my arm.

His heartfelt laughter cuts through the tense air around us once more and the lines at his eyes begin to crinkle. He's happy and showing me his true emotions.

I love that and can't help but join him in his laughing.

Just after he looked me over for any injuries, he takes the bicycle himself and shows me how it's done properly. I really envy him in this second as everything he does looks so effortless...very different than my turn.

His movements are gracious and he looks so carefree making a round through the backyard and over the grass.

Minutes later he's back, panting a little, his cheeks stained red from the exertion. Thomas' face is still painted by a big smile and I can't imagine ever having seen him so real. So full of emotion.

I enjoy that he shows me the real him while in my company.

"So...you can't ride a bike?" Thomas asks needlessly and I only shrug my shoulders and throw a sheepish look towards him.

And as soon as I've reacted he's already at my side, bicycle in hand. "Come on, I'll help you" he tells me encouragingly and softly takes my arm to steer me towards this thing of hell.

Before I am able to protest, he's already stabilising the bike. I swing my leg over the saddle, one of his hands comes to rest on the handlebar and his right one settles on my lower back. I can't help but risk a look over my shoulder, some inches more and his hand would lie directly on my backside, but somehow I wouldn't mind it slipping off.

But well…that's how it works between friends, doesn't it?

That you feel really comfortable in the company of each other...

Next his grey, now nearly black eyes settle on my own before he instructs me further. "Feet on the pedals and move your feet slowly, I'm going to balance you." And while soaking some air into my lungs, I do as he said, softly moving my feet and with Thomas' help the bicycle moves forward without me falling to the ground seconds later.

He carefully walks beside me and helps me steer and balance us. The movements over the grass get easier by second and we pick up a little speed, making Thomas run.

And somehow, while trying to keep me close, it happens.

His hand must have wandered up my back to keep a hold of me, until it lands directly on the nape on
my neck. My head's suddenly as empty as the wine cellar after a party.

I'm dazed by the recollection of the last time this happened, and all the things which occurred between us since then. Everything. EVERYTHING.

Without my movement, Thomas alone isn't able to hold me up that easily as I stopped pedalling without his notice of my actions.

Exactly one second later, the result is upon us.

He's still holding my neck as a sharp 'Oi' escapes his lips and the devil's wheels and myself tilt to the side, making Thomas stumble until we fall on our sides.

Onto Thomas, to be precise.

And suddenly time slows around us, no sound penetrating the silence of the yard, just the moon shining down on us dismissively.

And this is what I open my eyes to: me lying on the grass, bicycle angrily stabbing into my side and under us - Thomas. My hands are circling his head as I was apparently trying to break our fall. But otherwise I'm laying completely on top of his form. Thomas is on his back, his hand curiously still having a decided hold on my neck as if trying to keep me safe and near.
Trying to protect me.

I can hear his deep breathing, his eyes are closed, a frown furrowing his brow. Subconsciously, I try to free myself of the metal between my legs and softly push this thing away.

And I have to correct my thoughts from a few moments ago - NOW I'm laying directly on top of Thomas. But I don't mind, and I'm really keen on his reaction. This second, there's no hint of what he's feeling.

I move a little closer to get more comfortable and suddenly his eyes fly open as if someone has hit him over the head.

Thomas' cheeks get painted in a deeper red than before which scurries down towards his collar.

That's a very curious behaviour as nothing happened to make him react like this. His hand gently glides over the nape of my neck, his eyes avoiding mine desperately. I suck in some air, frantically trying to clear my head and apparently it works.

Well it rather makes me realize why Thomas reacted the way he did.

He's hard under me.

And with that I don't just mean the muscles under his clothes, but HIM. Namely a peculiar part of him stirred on by our closeness and the heat building between us.

I made him react like this?

It seems like such a surreal thought that plain me can make him do something like this, make him feel desire...and attraction.

And it's quite a heady thought.

In realisation my ears begin to heat and I feel a significant stirring in my nether regions as well. I try not to show him that I noticed anything being out of the ordinary, trying to calm my breathing and my thoughts into calmness. I let my eyes trail over his chest towards his face, somehow reluctant to look at him directly.

But no, I have to do this properly as I don't want him to be uncomfortable in my company.

My eyes carefully trail over his full lips, which are slightly glinting in the moonlight and I can't help but reside there a second longer. What would they taste like if I kissed him just now? - Of tea, of cigarettes or the dessert, he indulged in this evening at dinner...

A desperate need to know for sure builds in my heart, making it thud heavily in my chest.

But why would I suddenly even care?

I'm not lavender, I just…I care for Thomas. And I like him…

And…Technically I know already how he kisses, if he's passionate, careful or playful about it...

But in reality I don't remember much as most of it happened while I was asleep.

And how should I know if the real Thomas and my dream Thomas are alike?
I can't.

And I shouldn't…shouldn't think about the way he kisses or what his skin tastes like. Shouldn't care.

Somehow, something's holding me back...holding me back from exploring…from finding out. And I know why…

I'm afraid.

Afraid to change anything between us.

And like this, I reluctantly realise that I have to give up. I can't do it. Make the first move. Or do anything at all.

Suddenly it's not only his skin lying on the beginning of my head, softly combing through the fine hair there, but also fear having a tight hold of me. Nearly strangling me. These thoughts need to be erased. I can't think like this. It will only make things harder between us. As I'm NOT like him. I'm not. I like girls.

Slowly my eyes continue their journey, sadly without answers, towards the curve of his cheekbones, the straightness of his nose, the depth of his eyes. And the way we are currently positioned, he can't escape my gaze.

In his eyes lays an insecurity combined with something else...a completely different emotion I've
rarely seen him with...could that be his love for me? Maybe that's what it looks like...
But I can't be sure, not really.

I have to distance myself from him, both bodily as well as emotionally. I cannot allow my desires to rule my head. And like this I contemplate what to do next.

I let my eyes give him a hesitant smile and with a nearly soundless 'I'm sorry' I try to sit up.

My hand seems to have grown a mind of its own because as I push myself from the ground, or more correctly, from Thomas' body, it delicately encounters soft skin. And as my eyes flow towards my hand, I see it gently grazing Thomas' cheek.

In reaction, he takes in a sudden breath and I see his Adam's apple bobbing soundly.

I coolly help him up and bring the bicycle back towards the shed.

Cycling is off my learning list...as other things as well…

I'll happily never do it again, of that I'm sure. Quite sure.

Thomas follows me quietly, trailing some steps behind me and out of the corner of my eye I can see how he discreetly tries to lengthen his livery as to hide his evident interest in me.

No such luck.

We silently make our way back towards the servants' entry. This was definitely enough action for one evening for me. Far too much turmoil to be precise.

And as I bid him goodnight and thank him for his effort, my eyes unconsciously fly towards his trousers for one last time, making my heart beat a little faster.

I can't imagine that I'm going to have a restful night ahead of me, in having this knowledge and these thoughts…