Emma didn't want to eavesdrop intentionally, but she hid in Carson's office while playing hide and seek with Daisy.
"I'm to leave with no reference?" her dad's eyes were almost teary, "After working here for ten years?"
"I'm afraid my hands are tied," Carson replied calmly.
"I'll never get a job now, Mr. Carson!"
She had never seen her father so distraught.
"Please don't think about my future, think about Emma's!"
Carson neither changed his expression nor commented on Barrow's plea. He remained silent, as if he could no longer do anything for the fate of the Barrow family.
"Does his lordship know about this?"
"No."
"Then I'm going to tell him!"
"And how would you do that without telling him everything else?"
"This wasn't Jimmy's idea. Somebody's put him up to it. He wouldn't be so unkind, not left to himself."
"I'm almost touched that you will defend him under such circumstances, but there it is."
Once again, an uncomfortable silence filled Carson's office.
"Can I stay here for a day or two until I figure something out? Or do you want to put a single father and his 8-year-old daughter out on the street?"
"Yes I think I can allow that. But that's the best I can do."
"Thank you, Mr. Carson."
Emma waited until Carson also left his office before slipping away unnoticed.
"Emma! There you are! I found you!" Daisy exclaimed with a wide grin.
Emma forced a small smile, attempting to conceal her distress, "I don't want to play anymore, Daisy."
Daisy's enthusiasm waned, and she furrowed her little brow. "Why not? It's fun!"
Emma sighed, feeling the burden of the situation weighing on her shoulders. "I just... I have a lot on my mind right now."
Daisy sensed the change in Emma's demeanor. "Is something wrong, Emma?"
Emma hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal to the kitchenmaid. "It's complicated, Daisy. I need some time for myself."
Daisy nodded. "Okay, Emma. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."
Not even the craving for a cigarette overcame him as he crouched against the wall outside. He held his cap in his hands, wondering how he could be so foolish to jeopardize his future and the future of his child.
"Mr. Barrow!" exclaimed Mrs. Hughes in dismay. She found the valet in the backyard, outside in the darkness and dampness. "What on earth are you doing out here? I know you're leaving us, but your future can't look so bleak. You're trained now. You can apply for a butler position."
"So, you don't know everything, then?" sniffed Thomas.
"Do you want to tell me everything?" she asked empathetically.
"I'm afraid if I do, Mrs. Hughes, you'll be shocked and disgusted."
"Shocked and disgusted," she smiled. "Goodness. I think I need to hear it right away," and she placed her hand around Thomas, saying, "Come."
Mrs. Hughes balanced a tray with tea and two cups into the room. In the meantime, Thomas had taken off his wet coat and explored Hughes' office a bit. The housekeeper even had a child's table where Emma likely spent her time drawing, reading, and playing while he fought on the front lines. Several of her colorful drawings adorned the walls.
"Have a seat," Mrs. Hughes offered and asked, "What happened, Thomas?"
Thomas reluctantly looked at Mrs. Hughes. The housekeeper sat across from him, and from experience, most people were terrible to him once they learned the truth.
"I've done something foolish," Thomas explained, sniffling.
"I'd like to judge that for myself."
"You see, Mrs. Hughes, I'm not like the others," he nervously played with his hands, his eyes fixed on the painted pictures of his daughter. Almost every single one featured the dog – from the phase when she desperately wanted one of her own.
"She has spent many hours here keeping herself occupied," Mrs. Hughes confirmed, "But this is not about Emma right now, it's about you, Thomas."
"My foolish actions unfortunately have a negative impact on Emma's future," Thomas took a deep breath before looking at the housekeeper, "Mrs. Hughes, I'm different. I like... you know... not women" he stammered.
"But that doesn't shock or disgust me."
"If you knew what I've done," Thomas took another deep breath, "I thought Jimmy would like me."
"But he doesn't?"
"I was wrong. I was a fool."
"How do you know he doesn't like you?"
"I kissed him," it spilled out of him, "He was asleep. I snuck into his room," and he buried his head in his hands.
"James was not pleased, huh? What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't thinking at all, Mrs. Hughes. That's the problem," Thomas explained desperately, "Alfred caught us, and Mr. Carson was told. I was supposed to resign quietly and get a good reference. After all, Bates is back."
"That sounds like a reasonable compromise to me."
"Jimmy insists that Mr. Carson gives him a bad reference, or he'll go to the police. Have me arrested and create a scandal." Thomas had managed to shock Mrs. Hughes. She looked at him with wide, shocked eyes, yet he doubted she fully grasped the severity of the situation.
"I'll never find another job, Mrs. Hughes! I've worked here for 10 years. Without a reference, I'd be forced to live on the street or in a workhouse. Her future would be ruined, and in the worst case, we'd be permanently separated." His daughter would have to forgo education and beg on the roadside, while he himself would have to work for a pittance. The payment at the end of the day would be a more or less secure place to sleep and a more or less warm meal.
"I highly doubt Mr. Carson will be blackmailed like that."
"He won't help me. He despises me and would rather watch me get whipped."
"Thomas," Mrs. Hughes said, "Mr. Carson will help you because we can't let James' behavior go unchecked," her gaze now drifted to the painted pictures, "And I won't allow Emma to end up in a workhouse. Which means you won't end up in one either. We'll find a solution."
"Mister Carson would surely be pleased because people like me belong there, don't they?"
"That's not true."
They were silent for a moment.
"Does Emma know the truth?"
Thomas nodded.
"How did she react?"
For the first time, Thomas's sad expression disappeared. "She can't understand why I'm not allowed to love freely, and if she were the Prime Minister, she would want to change the law immediately."
"Well, there you have it. Emma loves you more than anything," she said with a smile.
"My little dwarf is the only family I have. I can't be separated from her, Mrs. Hughes."
"You have my word, Thomas. I will help you. You will get a good reference, and then you and Emma will start anew somewhere else. And who knows, maybe Emma will become the first female Prime Minister of Britain one day."
"That Mr. Bates is gobby, isn't he?" Jimmy announced, settling into the chair next to Alfred.
"Why do you say that?" Ivy asked.
"Everyone used to talk about him as if he could on water, but he's got a mouth on him."
"What did he say?"
"He was sticking up for Mr. Barrow."
Emma looked up from her homework, listening to the conversation, even though Molesley was still talking about history.
"Is this because of Mr. Carson not giving him a reverence? I don't think it's right, do you?" Ivy inquired.
"Yes, I bloody wellt hink it's right! You know nothing about it!" Jimmy hissed angrily.
"But why?" Emma asked. Only now did the servant notice the child. "My dad needs a good reference for his new job so we won't be homeless!"
"I don't give a damn about what happens to you! A man like Mr. Barrow shouldn't be allowed to reproduce, let alone raise a child!" With these words, Jimmy left the room.
Emma looked puzzled at Mr. Molesley. By now, he had stopped talking about the history. "He's just angry," he explained. "Mr. Barrow is a good father, and honestly, I can't imagine a better one for you."
"Mr. Barrow is heartless, embittered, vain, and arrogant," hissed O'Brien. "Qualities a young girl shouldn't be confronted with!"
"You mean qualities that no good father possesses," confirmed Alfred.
"How fortunate that my dad doesn't possess those qualities – he's actually the best dad in the world. You, Mrs. O'Brien, are a manipulative, embittered, old, foolish, ugly witch with the appearance of an inflated porcupine..." At that moment, Emma felt a burning pain on her face. O'Brien dared to slap her and deliver a resounding slap.
Emma quickly packed her textbook into her backpack, swung it casually over her shoulders. She had no interest in lingering here longer than necessary.
"You're already here?" her dad wondered. He sat on the bed, the newspaper spread out in front of him. Emma recognized the job advertisements immediately. She scrutinized her dad for the qualities O'Brien listed. But neither did she find her father heartless nor arrogant. Perhaps a bit vain, as he cared about his appearance, but by no means in a negative sense. Was she perceiving her father differently than the adults?
"I just wanted to bring my school stuff... Lord Grantham asked me to take Isis for a walk." Emma held her breath almost. Did she just lie to her dad? She wasn't asked to release the dog, nor did she want to bring her school things. She wanted to hide under her blanket and ponder over Jimmy's, Alfred's, and O'Brien's words.
"Oh, homework done? You have a test tomorrow, don't forget. School is more important than letting Isis out."
"Completed all assignments with Mr. Molesley," Emma put on a fake grin. She hadn't finished the last tasks. Perhaps she would complete them tomorrow before school starts, "You can check if you want," and handed him her notebook.
"I think I'll trust Molesley's knowledge in this matter," Thomas chuckled, tossing the notebook onto Emma's bed. That was clear to her. School was important, but her dad would never willingly correct her assignments.
"Anything else?" Thomas asked.
Emma shook her head and leave the room.
A hand touched her shoulder, pressing her against the wall in the hallway. It was Alfred. Jimmy stood beside him.
"We know he's your father, but you don't have to stay with him," Alfred said. "He can't force you to live with him."
"What are you talking about?"
"About how we can help you get rid of him," explained Jimmy.
"Ever thought that I don't want to get rid of my dad?"
"He's a foul soul, and for your own safety and future, it's only advisable if Mr. Barrow leaves us," said Alfred.
"We can help you, Emma," Jimmy smiled.
"Let me go!" protested Emma. Alfred still pressed her against the wall. Emma couldn't hold back her tears any longer. Alfred frightened her, and her wrist hurt from how tightly he squeezed.
"You have no idea what kind of despicable man you live with, let alone what kind of father you truly have," hissed Jimmy.
"Please, let me go," whispered Emma. This time, Alfred stopped at her words. Both servants left her in peace.
Emma slid down the wall until she touched the floor. Legs drawn up to her chest, she rested her head on her knees. She understood nothing anymore. What kind of man was her dad? O'Brien's listed qualities certainly didn't match. Her father was a loving, caring, and responsible man.
Emma wasn't sure how long she lingered in the stairwell. In any case, no one passed by during that time. She had no desire to give even a spark of truth to her lie and walk Isis. All she wanted was to crawl under her blanket, but with her dad in the room, it was almost impossible to pretend everything was fine. And the last thing her dad needed was to worry about her.
"Is everything okay with you, Emma?" Mr. Bates asked, concerned. Emma, who had rested her head on her knees, looked up at him. She nodded weakly, "Yeah... everything is okay."
"Something is bothering you, isn't it? Can I help you?"
"Not really."
"Could it be that you've overheard more than you should have in the past few days?"
"I don't want to live on the street," Emma explained hesitantly. "I like school, and I like Downton." The first tears snaked down her cheek. Emma lowered her head again and rested it on her knees. Unable to look at Mr. Bates. After all, Mr. Bates took her dad's job away. And then there's Jimmy, insisting that her dad should receive a miserable reference.
"I'm sure Thomas will find a new job. He can apply as a butler now."
Again, she shook her head sadly, "No reference, no job."
"You really know more than you should," he sighed. He doubted that Thomas was the one briefing his daughter on the events. The girl must have eavesdropped on the conversations.
"Mr. Bates," Emma wiped the tears from her face with her hand, "I don't want to leave Downton Abbey. It's the only home I know!"