Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Rest & Cake (May/June 1921)

"Okay," she replied softly, her eyes wandering to the stack of books on the dresser. "Can I at least read a book?"

Thomas nodded in agreement and turned to grab a book. He chose the story of Peter Pan and placed it on Emma's bedside table.

"If you need anything or if you feel worse, let me know," he added lovingly, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently stroking Emma's hair. Emma nodded gratefully and pulled the book closer to her, while Thomas cast one more affectionate glance at her before quietly standing up and closing the door behind him. The room was now quiet, only the soft rustling of pages as Emma opened her book and immersed herself in the captivating world of Peter Pan.

Thomas learned through Mrs. Hughes that Emma's friends had come to visit, and his gut feeling told him he should check on what the children were up to. So, amidst his duties, he carved out some time and made his way towards the master's corridor. From a distance, he heard loud giggling, prompting him to quicken his pace. As he opened the door to the bedroom, the three children - Emma, Ruby, Arthur, and Simon - froze. Emma, who had been bouncing on the bed moments ago, suddenly flopped onto the mattress, followed by her friends, mimicking her actions. Thomas stood in the doorway with arms crossed, his expression darkening.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked with clear displeasure.

Emma exchanged a nervous glance with her friends before sitting up and attempting to explain the situation, "They were just helping me fluff my pillow."

Thomas raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That didn't look like pillow-fluffing."

"It was just a bit of fun, Mr. Barrow," Arthur said nonchalantly, as if nothing was amiss.

"Fun?" Thomas repeated with a skeptical gaze. "After everything that's happened, fun shouldn't be in your vocabulary right now, Emma."

"Mr. Barrow, we're sorry, we didn't mean to..." Ruby began to explain.

Thomas interrupted her with an exasperated gesture. "You didn't mean to what? Emma has a concussion, for heaven's sake!" he exclaimed, trying to rein in his burgeoning anger. "You shouldn't be encouraging her to jump on a bed, Ruby!" Thomas's gaze now shifted to the second boy, whom he hadn't encountered before. "And who are you, anyway?" Thomas inquired.

"S-Simon, Sir," he stammered nervously. Thomas nodded briskly. Simon Stewart. He remembered. Emma had often talked about him.

Emma had lowered her head by now. "It was my idea, Dad."

Thomas sighed, his anger morphing into concern. "You know exactly what Dr. Clarkson said. You're supposed to rest."

Emma looked ashamed, avoiding eye contact with her father.

Ruby looked uncertainly between Thomas and Emma. "We're sorry, Mister Barrow. We were just bored."

Thomas took a deep breath and forced himself to adopt a calmer tone, this time with a hint of understanding, "I understand that resting can be boring. But Emma had an accident. She has a concussion. The last thing she should be doing is jumping on the bed. Another accident could have serious consequences."

Emma nodded meekly. Simon, Arthur, and Ruby also looked remorseful. Thomas would never forgive himself if Emma got hurt again, especially after narrowly escaping a severe injury. He sighed and rubbed his temple. "Alright, you've had enough roughhousing. Ruby, Arthur, Simon, thank you for your company, but I think it's best if Emma gets some rest now."

The three friends nodded understandingly and quietly left the room, while Thomas stood with arms crossed in front of his daughter. "Do you care so little about your health?"