Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Just A Normal Day (Summer 1917)

"Don't go," she pleaded, staring at him with a begging puppy-dog look. "Please stay here."

"I have to go," he knelt down to her level, "We can write letters if you'd like."

"No," the young girl cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I want you to stay! You can't leave me!" she pleaded between sobs.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm defending our country. We'll see each other again soon, okay?" Emma nodded sadly, "I miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Emmi," William grinned, "One last piggyback ride?"

Emma had a special connection with William. She felt understood and loved by him. She valued his patience and sense of humor. To Emma, William was not just a servant but a loyal friend who made her laugh and with whom she could share her childlike innocence.

Thomas pulled out a new cigarette from his pocket and watched the farewell between Emma and William with mixed feelings. He admired the friendship between Emma and William, but at the same time, he felt a slight jealousy welling up inside him. It pained him that he didn't have the same carefree and playful relationship with his daughter. With great dismay, he realized that his child had a closer bond with William than with himself. And then there was that nickname - Emmi. Who gave William the right to call the child that? Who gave William the right to carry his child through the corridors on his back? While Emma and William laughed loudly and teased each other, Thomas felt a pang in his heart. He longed to feel the same carefree spirit and goof around with Emma.

"I've heard that you're widowed and have to take care of your child all alone. I imagine that must be quite difficult, which is why I envy you for how you manage all this," Ethel smiled.

"It's all just a matter of organization."

"If you ever wish to have a woman by your side, I would be available."

Thomas choked on his cigarette smoke. "What do you mean?"

"I wouldn't mind getting married," she explained.

"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you, but I'm not available," Thomas quickly considered his justification. He couldn't exactly admit that he doesn't find women attractive. "The only woman in my life will be my daughter's mother. And I won't replace her with a new woman."

The new routine with the convalescent home had settled in well after some difficulties. Thomas made sure to take the time every evening to tuck his child into bed, just like the old times. 

One day, when nobody was in the kitchen, Emma took the opportunity to secretly grab a biscuit from the jar. Her love for sweet treats was clearly inherited from her father. Her hand sank into the jar, reaching for several chocolate biscuits when suddenly a sharp pain shot through her hand. The kitchen maid, whom Emma didn't know, slammed the lid of the jar shut while Emma's hand was still inside. The stranger must have been one of the additional staff hired for Mrs. Patmore. Emma quickly pulled her hand back and cried out in pain, tears welling up in her eyes as she held her injured hand close to her.

"Keep your hands off!" the woman snapped. "That's what happens to little unruly girls who think they can do whatever they want here!"

Emma felt anger and fear welling up inside her. She didn't know this person and felt threatened by her. Her hand continued to throb with pain, but her determination grew. She decided to find her father. With trembling hands, she wiped away her tears and got off her chair.

"Dad, I want to find my Daddy," she whispered. Emma used her uninjured hand to hold her aching wrist.

Emma was confused and desperate. She knew Thomas would be upstairs. With a pounding heart and her wrist still throbbing with pain, Emma looked for the famous green door that separated the upstairs and downstairs. She hurried through the grand hall, past patients who gave her curious looks. Her uncertainty grew as she saw the many men in their pajamas leaning against the walls or sitting in the corridors playing chess.