"Emma!" Mrs. Hughes blared in an angry voice down the corridor.
The girl emerged from the kitchen and looked at the housekeeper, bewildered. Mrs. Hughes was on the floor, having fallen. Mrs. O'Brien hurried over and helped her up.
"You can't just leave your schoolbag in the middle of the hallway like that!"
"Imagine what could have happened if you had been injured," Mrs. O'Brien agreed. Emma's thoughts were spinning as she tried to remember if she had really left her schoolbag in the hallway like that.
"Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Mrs. Hughes inquired. Emma shook her head, still trying to recall if she had indeed left her schoolbag so carelessly in the hallway.
"Clean it up," Mrs. Hughes demanded. The girl nodded. The contents of her bag were just as haphazardly strewn about as the bag itself. She gathered her pens, notebooks, and books before entering the servants' hall. The staff was gathering for their late afternoon tea. She slipped into the empty seat next to her Dad.
"What happened?" Thomas asked with interest. "Mrs. Hughes sounded quite upset."
"I left my things on the floor," Emma admitted meekly.
"You've always had a tendency to be messy," Thomas observed with a sigh. He placed a high value on order, whether in the room or in clothing. Emma preferred to crumple her clothes rather than fold them neatly. She would rather leave her toys in place after playing with them than put them back in the box. If Thomas didn't regularly force his daughter to clean up their shared bedroom, he might not be able to find his bed. And one thing was especially painful: stepping on Emma's toys without shoes on.
"You must have inherited that from your mother," he added, pulling his cigarette pack from his jacket pocket.
"I thought I had put my schoolbag to the side," she said, looking around the table. Alfred and Molesley were reading books. Mrs. O'Brien was as unpleasant as ever, and some of the housemaids were doing needlework. Emma began to spread out her homework: math. Emma hated doing homework, but her Dad insisted that she complete her work diligently. She usually did her homework just before dinner, but on this rainy day, none of her friends had time to play.
Emma tried to suppress her cough. She would love to throw away his cigarette pack and lighter. He only kept his promise not to smoke in her presence on days when he felt like it, which didn't sit well with the girl.
Suddenly, two letters landed on her school notebook. The letters were addressed to her Dad. Mr. Carson had accidentally thrown them onto her place. Emma tried to find the addressee curiously, but Thomas silently collected the two letters. He glanced briefly at the addressee before the letters disappeared into the inner pocket of his jacket. Emma sometimes wondered who her Dad was writing letters to. Definitely not her grandpa, who didn't even write a single letter for Christmas or birthdays. Emma sadly realized that she hadn't received a single letter since William's death. She looked beside her. Anna didn't receive any letters either.
The next cough couldn't be suppressed. Emma coughed a few times. Her gaze landed on Thomas's cigarette pack, which was on the table. Emma reached for the pack and received an irritated look from her father, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. The girl stood up, threw the pack on the floor, and then stepped on it.
Thomas stared at her in disbelief while the other servants in the room perked up. Emma could hear the crunch of the crushed cigarette pack under her shoes, and a sense of satisfaction washed over her. She'd had enough of the cigarettes.
"What's this?" Thomas exclaimed as he got up and looked down at the destroyed pack.
"I hate it when you smoke!" Emma replied firmly. Thomas seemed torn between anger and surprise, but his anger was stronger. "Have you gone mad? There's no reason to stomp on my cigarettes. They cost money!" he hissed.
"I don't care," Emma said defiantly, crossing her arms.
"Oh, you're quite the little rebel, aren't you?" Mrs. O'Brien remarked with a mocking tone.
"I'm not a rebel," she retorted, turning to her Dad. "We had a deal. You promised not to smoke around me. It's disgusting."
"Don't overreact," Thomas replied, annoyed. The other servants had returned to their own activities, but the tension remained palpable.
"You promised me! You never take me seriously!" Emma continued to stand defiantly, her arms still crossed. Mrs. O'Brien couldn't help but smile smugly, while Alfred and Molesley immersed themselves in their books.
"Calm down, Emma," Thomas picked up the pack. "I don't have any more cigarettes to smoke anyway," and he put the damaged cigarette pack in his pocket. He knew he was in the wrong, but his pride prevented him from admitting that he had broken his promise. He was frustrated with himself for not being a better role model for his child.
"Well, you can quit smoking now," she replied with a triumphant grin. But then Thomas took out money, "Not at all. Go and get me a new pack." Emma took the money reluctantly and nodded without saying another word.
"Look at that, the very first time in your life that you get to be useful," O'Brien teased.
"Oh, shut up, O'Brien! You don't even know what that means", Thomas hissed.
The rain had stopped, but the sky was still covered with clouds, casting a gloomy mood over the day. Emma frustratedly kicked a stone as she and her best friend made their way to the grocery store. She ran into Ruby on the way.
"You can't imagine how frustrating this is. Dad always makes empty promises. He doesn't stick to anything, but I'm supposed to follow everything," Emma sighed.
Ruby, who had been listening quietly, nodded in understanding. "I know how you feel, but maybe your Dad just didn't think about it."
"He thought about it. He just doesn't care," Emma replied, slightly irritated. "There's a reason why children should be raised by their mothers."
"Huh? How did you come up with that comparison?" Ruby wondered.
Emma kicked another stone and sighed deeply. "Mrs. O'Brien said that children should be raised by their mothers just like in the animal world. And in a way, she's right, isn't she? I mean, mothers are often the ones who take care of and raise the children. Fathers are never around. They have to earn the money."
"Are you okay? Since when do you believe what that old witch says?"
"I just mean that sometimes I feel like Mama would understand me better and stick to our agreements."
"Parents aren't perfect," Ruby shrugged and smiled. "If you don't want your Dad, I'll take him."
"Oh," Emma realized suddenly. She lowered her gaze and felt bad for complaining about her problems. "I'm sorry, Ruby. I didn't think about how it must be for you not to have a father."
"It's okay. You never met your Mum, and I can't even remember my Dad," Ruby smiled and put her hand on Emma's shoulder. "I have the perfect idea. Your Dad and my Mom can get married, and then we'll be sisters."
The two girls reached the grocery store and bought the cigarette pack. They made their way back to Thomas. He was still in the servants' hall.
"Here," Emma said, throwing the pack to him. Thomas easily caught his cigarettes. "If you hadn't smashed my old pack, you wouldn't have needed to buy new ones," he said.
"We were happy to buy you a new pack," Ruby chimed in with a wide grin. "We came up with the perfect plan on the way."
"A perfect plan, you say?" Thomas looked between Emma and Ruby. "I'm curious. What have you two schemed up?"
Emma took a deep breath and looked at Ruby, who nodded before she looked at her father. "Dad, we were thinking about how we could become a real family."
Thomas furrowed his brow, unsure of what the girls were getting at. "A real family?" he asked.
Ruby took over. "Emma and I are best friends, and we want to become sisters. Emma wishes she had a Mom, which I have. And I wish I had a Dad, which Emma has. So, all you have to do is marry my Mom, and we'll be the perfect family."
Thomas's expression changed abruptly, and he felt a lump in his throat. He fixed his gaze on a picture on the wall. Anything was better than looking Emma or Ruby in the eye. He should have realized that Emma would one day long for a mother. But the idea that the girls would catch him off guard with such a proposal was beyond his imagination.
"You think our idea is stupid, right Mister Barrow?" Ruby realized.
"No, not at all. It's a lovely thought, but life is sometimes complicated," he finally said with gentle sadness in his voice. Just in time, the bell signaling the staff the change of clothes, and he hurried away before the girls could barrage him with more questions.
"Did we say something wrong?" Ruby wondered. Emma shrugged cluelessly.
"Don't worry, girls," Mrs. Patmore smiled. "Mister Barrow is not a man for a relationship, let alone marriage."
"Why not?" Emma asked. "Dad was married to my Mama."
"Only because of you," Mrs. Patmore revealed and also left the servants' hall. So, the two friends were left alone.
"Even if our parents don't get married," Ruby said optimistically, "we can still be sisters in our hearts."
Emma decided not to bring up the topics of her mother, family, and marriage with her dad anymore. His reaction had been more than clear. A few days later, Emma was lying in bed.
"Mister Carson seems to like Alfred a lot," Emma mentioned without looking up from her reading. Her father just made a grunt of acknowledgment. "He's even giving Alfred lessons in being a footman," she continued as she reached the end of the chapter, placed a bookmark, and now looked at Thomas. He was pouting again, a sign that he was either deep in thought or perhaps even jealous.
"He really has no idea what he's doing, I guess," she added cautiously.
"That happens when you want to rise too quickly," Thomas replied tersely and then sat down next to Emma on the bed. "It's Bedtime now," he said.
"Dad, why have I never been to Mama's grave?" Emma looked at her father with anticipation. He put the book aside and hesitated for a moment before answering, "I don't know where she's buried. Martha's family didn't want me to come to the funeral," and held his breath for a brief moment. This sentence contained both the truth and a lie. Of course, he knew where Martha was buried, not far from his sister's grave. But for Emma's own good, he lied to her.
"So, I can never visit Mama?"
Thomas could sense Emma's sadness, but he had his reasons for not telling her the truth about Martha and her grave.
"Do you have a picture of her?"
"No," Thomas replied truthfully.
"So, I don't have any memories at all," Emma's eyes filled with tears. Thomas ran his hand desperately through his hair with his ungloved hand. He got up and pulled a small box from under his bed. He had lied to his child so many times about Martha, so what was one more lie?
"Thomas, every child needs a stuffed animal," Anna emphasized several times. "I saw a cute little stuffed rabbit in the village. It would be perfect for Emma." Emma had just turned three months old last week, and the little girl still had nothing but clothes, nappies, and food. He hadn't seen it as important to buy anything more for his child. Anna had been urging him for days to buy his daughter her first toy, and at a certain point, Thomas gave in.
"Hello, Emma," Thomas greeted her. Behind his back, he produced the little rabbit. "I brought you something," and he handed it to the little baby, who eagerly reached out her hand for the stuffed toy. Emma happily accepted the rabbit and cooed with joy while Thomas lifted the tiny baby into his arms.
"She seems very pleased, doesn't she? Your Daddy has brought you a great toy," Anna smiled and gently stroked the baby's tiny cheek. "Isn't she just adorable?" the housemaid gushed.
"You bought it for her."
"It doesn't matter. Look how happy she is." Thomas watched his daughter's radiant face as she clutched the stuffed animal tightly. Her tiny fingers gripped the soft plush toy, and Emma squealed with delight. It was her first toy, and it seemed to be bringing her a lot of joy already.
"Emma seems really happy," Thomas marveled. The baby's eyes shone with happiness, and Thomas couldn't help but break into a wide grin. "But don't think I'll be bringing you something every time I come to visit, my little dwarf."
"Emma has you wrapped around her finger," Anna smiled. Thomas nodded sheepishly, feeling a bit embarrassed for showing his tender side in front of Anna. He gently kissed Emma's forehead and ran his fingers through her delicate hair before carefully placing her in her crib.
Emma crawled under the warm blanket as Thomas returned with her stuffed animal. "Do you remember him?" he asked.
"A-bit," Emma nodded, grinning. "Did Mama give it to me?" Thomas weakly nodded. It was another lie.
"It's quite dirty," Emma observed, looking at her rabbit. One ear was chewed up, and there were red stains on its plush.
"I tried to clean it back then, but it didn't work. And since you got your dog, I didn't give it to you anymore," Thomas explained. At least that part was true.
The room fell into a brief silence. Emma clutched the rabbit tightly in her small arms, "I wish I could have met Mama," Emma finally whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
Thomas reached out to gently stroke her hair. "She would have loved you more than anything in this world."
Emma nodded, feeling a mixture of sadness and warmth. She nestled under her covers with the rabbit close to her heart, ready to drift into dreams where, just for a moment, she might meet the mother she had only heard about.
As the room grew darker and Emma's breathing slowed, Thomas remained by her side, watching over his little dwarf.