At Your Service

A New Purpose

"They make me so angry sometimes," said Daisy, more to herself than anyone in particular as she came in to the kitchen. Alfred just so happened to be there at the time.
"Who do?" he asked.
"Who do you think? Ivy and Jimmy of course."
Alfred frowned at her a little, "I don't think you should talk ill of Ivy, she's done nothing wrong."
"I know that, but Jimmy knows exactly what he's doing, and it's not right."
"What's he doing?"
Daisy looked at him, trying to decipher if he was actually too clueless to not realise Jimmy was only messing Ivy about. The lost look in his eyes told her he was. She sighed, not wanting to argue with him.
"Look, it doesn't matter, it's just their constant flirting, they may as well be courting with the way they speak to each other. They would be good together I suppose, if only a certain someone would take Ivy's feelings more seriously."
Alfred was feeling very nïave. What was Daisy talking about? Jimmy was flirting with Ivy genuinely, wasn't he? Alfred stood to go upstairs to arrange the table for dinner that evening, keeping his confused thoughts to himself.

Alfred walked in to the dining room to find Thomas there already, finishing off the table.
"And why are you up so late?" he asked Alfred harshly.
"Sorry Mr Barrow, I got distracted."
"Really," he said, "well come and help me finish setting the table as you're here now."
Alfred nodded and came round beside Thomas to arrange the cutlery.
"So, what had you so distracted then Alfred," he asked, feigning interest.
"What do you care?"
"I don't. Just making conversation."
"Well, to be honest it's Jimmy." Thomas stopped what he was doing and stood up straight.
"What about him?" he inquired.
"I just can't figure out if he really likes Ivy or not. Daisy seems to think there's something off about it but I can't see what she's getting at, I'd say it's pretty obvious he likes her..." Alfred continued talking but Thomas wasn't really listening.
So, Jimmy fancied Ivy, he couldn't deny it seemed rather inevitable. He wouldn't let it upset him though. Yes he did like Jimmy, a lot, probably too much for his own good, but he didn't want to throw that friendship away so quickly, which he knew he would if he got angry and started to ignore him. What would a good friend do in this situation? He could help Jimmy get together with Ivy... It might be a little depressing but at least he could help him in some way. If Alfred was right in thinking Jimmy was serious about Ivy, then the next 6 weeks would be the perfect time to make it happen.
Thomas had to be honest with himself, he knew that Jimmy was never going to feel how he felt, he'd never get to be with him in that way. But, if this was as close as they'd get, he wanted to make sure he did it right.
"...so if he doesn't then..."
"Alfred," Thomas interrupted, "you're rambling."
"Sorry," he said weakly.
The table was set, everything was as it should be, and Thomas felt a sort of purpose, to make sure Jimmy got what he wanted.

Dinner went by smoothly, and Thomas thought a lot while he ate, about how he could help. Maybe he could talk to Ivy, get her to make it a bit more obvious she wanted more, as she so clearly did. He didn't particularly want to talk to Jimmy about it, he'd feel a little too awkward; but maybe mentioning it wouldn't be a bad idea at all. He was looking forward to it now, in an odd sort of way, he'd finally be doing something good.

Wednesday morning arrived and the majority of the staff stood outside to watch them go. They bid them goodbye, and as soon as they were out of earshot, bursts of joy and cheer came from everyone, despite quickly being hushed by Carson and Mrs Hughes. They all went in through the back door and both the butler and housekeeper set about delegating jobs for everyone around the house. Everyone was keeping in mind the fact that the quicker they got the job done, the longer holiday they'd all have, so they all seemed to set about cleaning with unnaturally positive attitudes.
Carson seemed to take pleasure in giving Jimmy his least favourite job of cleaning every single last piece of silverware and cutlery they had, thoroughly, and even pulling stuff from the back of the cupboard that they never used. Jimmy held in his complaints desperately, and tried to ignore the annoying smirk Carson had on his face when he saw the pile he'd have to get through.
I'll prove them wrong thought Jimmy. I'll show them what kind of footman I am.
Carson had told him there was no way he'd get it all done within the day, but by six o'clock, everything was sparklingly clean, and a very smug Jimmy informed a very shocked Carson that his job was complete. To be honest, it was worth it just to see his face.

"As you have worked so efficiently James, you may have the rest of the evening off."
Jimmy smirked, "thank you Mr Carson," and strode into the kitchen where they were calmly preparing that evenings dinner for the staff.
"It feels a bit odd doesn't it," thought Mrs Patmore aloud.
"What does?" he asked.
"Not having to cook for the family, spose I'll just have to get used to it for a while now though. It's quite nice having half the work load."
"Certainly gives us more free time," chirped Ivy, who'd spent a lot of her day reading a magazine. Jimmy wondered over to her smiling with charm and watched her work for a bit.
"There's a new film showing in town tomorrow, bit of a soppy romance apparently but I'd like to get out the house, fancy coming along?"
Her face lit up exquisitely and she turned to Mrs Patmore.
"Can I?" she nearly squealed.
She thought about it for a moment but gave in, "I guess so, it's not like you'll have much else to do."

They talked whilst Ivy worked, Daisy occassionally contributing to the conversation but mainly rolling her eyes and tutting. Ivy was going on about some new gorgeous actor she'd heard of, whilst Jimmy was half listening and half wondering if he ought to talk to Daisy and tell her his intentions were real enough. Although... It was difficult. Did he like Ivy that much? True he didn't know her flawlessly well, but at the same time he knew how sensitive and soft she could be, too much maybe? He didn't know, but he kept telling himself he ought to try, which is why he'd asked her out.
Satisfied with his thought process, he left to go sit in the servants hall and read until dinner would be served.