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After everything Thomas Barrow had put him through, John Bates was embarrassed to find out that this was the thing that made him officially hate the man.
Bates leaned heavily on his cane and watched as the butler took a clock apart in front of amazed children. Amazed children, one of which was Johnny. Curiously Johnny pointed at different parts of the clock and asked questions. What does that do? Why does the clock need so many wheels, Mr Barrow? Bates hated to admit it, but he was filled to his brim with jealousy.
”We should really get going, Johnny”, Bates said. Thomas raised his eyebrows at him. Work with me here for once, Thomas. ”We don't want to tire Mr Barrow out.”
Johnny pouted and Bates bristled as he saw the smug little smirk Thomas had on his face.
”I am not tired at all, Mr Bates”, he said innocently and pointed at the machinery you could see from the front of the clock. ”Look, Johnny. Can you guess why this is called a skeleton clock?”
”Because you can see inside it?”
”Good lad”, Thomas praised. ”You see, the face is partly made of glass so it's see-through and you can see the clock's skeleton.”
”Clocks don't have faces”, Sybbie objected, very sure of her stance on the matter. ”Or skeletons.”
”Oh, I disagree.” Thomas grinned and pointed at the clock face. ”This is the face. And inside there is a skeleton, just like with humans.”
”And those are hands!” Johnny exclaimed and was obviously going to grab the pointers but Thomas moved the clock out of his reach.
”He has hands in his face”, George snickered. ”Silly.”
”I suppose it is a bit silly”, Thomas admitted.
”Should you even be doing that?” Bates asked. ”You're the butler. Isn't winding clocks a footman's job?”
” 'Winding' ”, Thomas hummed. ”Cute.”
”Cute”, Johnny echoed and gave Bates a look. ”Mr Barrow is fixing the clock, dad. His father made clocks.”
Bates was annoyed. Obviously he understood that Thomas was not ”winding” the clocks right now, he had simply meant tending to the clocks in general. However he would not start arguing about it, that would make him look petty and childish. So Bates merely harrumphed and looked at Johnny.
”And your father made a promise to your mother to be at home before six”, Bates said. ”Say goodbye to Master George, Mr Barrow and the girls.”
Johnny whined but he followed his father waving at the others. ”Bye everyone. Bye Mr Barrow.”
”See you tomorrow, Johnny”, Thomas said, sounding way too chipper for him to be actually innocently unaware of what Bates was feeling.
-
It was strange, feeling jealous because of Thomas Barrow. Since Bates had arrived in the Abbey, the most common feeling he had felt towards Thomas had been pity. Most of the time that pity was tinted with a bit of malice or vicarious embarrassment, but it was pity nonethless. He had often been angry with Thomas, but at the bottom of it there had always been some level of sympathy. He had always pitied the man for being so miserable and cowardly that he couldn't help but make everyone around him suffer. ”Imagine me feeling sorry for Thomas” , he had once said to Mrs Hughes, but the truth was that he had always felt sorry for the wretched man. There was safety in pity. He had always known, even when wasting away in a prison cell, even in his lowest moments, that he would always be a happier person than Thomas Barrow.
But now he was jealous. Worse than that, he envied Thomas. Envied the way he was so natural with the children when they weren't even his, envied the way he always knew how to explain things so Johnny understood them, envied how comfortable he seemed when talking to the kids.
Bates had never been comfortable with children. He liked children but he didn't understand them. Anna had assumed that Bates wouldn't be happy with adopted children because he was a tribal man, but that wasn't the whole truth. He was pretty sure he could love an adopted child as his own, but he was almost certain that child couldn't love him. By blood Johnny was linked to him, there was a bond that couldn't be severed, no matter how awkward or stiff Bates would be. And Johnny loved his father, Bates knew he did.
But Johnny adored Thomas Barrow.
-
“Penny for your thoughts, Mr Bates.”
How Bates loved the fact that he had been married to Anna long enough that he had run out of clever responses to clichés such as this. So he didn't say “you're wasting your penny” or “they aren't worth as much” , he simply glanced at his wife with fondness. Johnny was asleep at last. Anna was doing dishes and he was drying them off with a soft fabric. What a wonderful life they led. And yet the unpleasant thoughts had followed him here, into his home.
“Thomas was fixing His Lordship's clock today”, Bates said while reaching to place a plate on the shelf. “Johnny was very interested in it.”
“That's nice”, Anna hummed and handed Bates a cup. “Maybe Johnny will grow up to be a clockmaker, fancy that.”
“I'm not so sure about that. I think he would be interested if Thomas explained to him the differences between different kinds of spoons.”
Anna let out a laugh. “Maybe we should harness that to our advantage. Have Thomas talk to him about railways or investing or whatever it is people do to make money these days. We'll secure ourselves for retirement.”
Anna was joking, obviously. She had never cared that much about money and they both knew they'd be looked after in their old age, the Crawleys were too fond of them to have it any other way.
“He does love Thomas”, Anna mused with a smile on her face. “And Thomas loves him, like he loves all the children. I'd love to see him have a few of his own. He is a natural.”
That struck a chord in Bates but he didn't let it show.
“Sadly nature had other plans for him”, Bates remarked and looked at his wife with a twinkle in his eye. They shared the secret chuckle two people usually shared with each other when Thomas Barrow's inclinations were hinted at. Those inclinations were yet another thing Bates had always been able to grievously pity the man for.
Anna was apparently not done with singing Thomas's praises. “I may not have been thrilled about their friendship at first, but I'm glad you changed my mind back then. You've always been a better, more forgiving man than I, Mr Bates.”
Yes, Bates had done that, and now he regretted it. Anna hadn't liked the prospect of Thomas being very close with Johnny after causing his father so much trouble in the past, but they had discussed it and decided to let them be friends. It had seemed harmless enough for Thomas to be Johnny's friend when Johnny had still been an infant at the height of his stranger anxiety. But now Johnny talked and smiled and had interests, and all of those were more often than not directed at Thomas.
Bates shook those thoughts away and smiled at his wife.
“Not always”, he reminded her. He had once been a cruel, vicious and most certainly unforgiving man. Hard work and love had made him better. “And you are the finest woman who has ever walked the earth, Mrs Bates.”
They sealed the conversation with a kiss.
-
“Johnny, please clean those toys away”, Bates sighed. He was obviously very grateful that his son was fortunate enough to share a nursery with His Lordship's grandchildren, but Johnny never made such a mess when playing at home. There was simply not enough stuff to make a mess with. But the Abbey's nursery was full of building blocks, toy cars, paper dolls, actual dolls and everything a child could ask for. So Johnny regularly made a mess of it.
“No.” Johnny said simply, a paper doll in his hand.
“Yes.”
“It's not fair . The others played too, why should I be the only one to clean up?”
Bates sighed.
“Because they are not here and you are.” Master George, Miss Sybbie and Miss Caroline had gone on a walk with the other nanny while Johnny waited for his father.
“I will do it, Mr Bates”, Nanny Adams said with a smile. She was a kind woman who had never treated Johnny any different than the other children. “You just go enjoy your lunch together.”
“Thank you but no.” Bates smiled and shook his head. “Johnny needs to learn how to clean up after himself.”
“I am not done playing”, Johnny countered.
“Johnny, I have one short break in my day and I want to spend it with my son.”
“Maybe you should make some friends”, Johnny said helpfully. Bates had to remind himself that the child was being sincere and not talking back, but it was hard. He felt himself growing vexed and it made him hate himself. He never wanted to speak against his son in anger. He was not his father and he was determined not to become like him, they had already been too similar once. Bates had failed as a husband in his first marriage and he knew that he wouldn't get a second chance if he failed as a father.
“Blimey, are we at war with the Germans again?”
Thomas. Bates's eyes flickered to his left to see a familiar man standing in the doorway. Sneaky and quiet as a cat. Oh, how Bates hated him.
Johnny's whole face lit up as he saw Thomas, but he shook his head as an answer to his question. “No, Mr Barrow.”
“Then why does the nursery look as if after a bombing, eh?” Thomas raised an eyebrow at Johnny. The boy giggled.
“Is war a joke to you? What a dreadful child you are. Absolutely no respect for the dead. Look at the corpses. You are sitting on them.”
Johnny giggled even harder, shifting slightly when he noticed he was sitting on some paper dolls. Thomas walked in to take the toy box in his hands.
“Up you go, Corporal Bates. We have no time to waste”, Thomas said in a comedically commanding voice. “Gather the civilians in the shelter and pack up the ruins, I cannot stand watching them.”
“Yes, Mr Barrow”, Johnny chirped and bounced up.
“That's Sergeant Barrow to you .”
They were done in two ticks. Bates fought to keep his annoyance off his face, especially when Thomas gifted him with a smirk that seemed to say you're welcome .
“Well done, Corporal”, Thomas praised and Johnny beamed with pride. “You're dismissed – go have lunch with your father.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barrow! Right away, Sergeant Barrow!” Johnny giggled. He was in stitches . For a short moment Bates was pretty sure he wouldn't be sad if Thomas slipped on a toy car and split his head.
They left. Bates heard Thomas talking and sharing a laugh with Nanny Adams behind him. He filled in the missing dialogue in his head. “I was trying to tell Mr Bates I could clean up, but you know him, good at arguing that one.” “If he only was half so good at controlling his child.” “Hahaha, oh Mr Barrow, that's too cruel!”
“You know, Mr Barrow was actually in a war, dad”, Johnny said with cheer in his voice.
“I was in a war, Johnny”, Bates reminded his son.
“Well, you were…” Johnny admitted. “But Mr Barrow was a medic . He saved lives .”
Usually Bates was happy about Johnny growing up with the same compassionate heart that his mother possessed, but for a moment he hoped for a less gentle child. A child who would have thought Bates killing a Boer with a knife was more heroic than Thomas holding a dying man's hand.
“Saving a life is the greatest thing a man can do”, Bates said. “I should know, I saved His Lordship's life a couple of times in the African War.”
It wasn't like him to boast about such a thing. That's why it felt even worse when Johnny smiled politely. “Would you like to talk about that, dad?”
Bates felt a pang of annoyance when he saw how hard his son tried to seem interested.
“Never mind that”, Bates said and smiled. “Let’s go look for your mother, shall we?”
-
It had been a long night of Johnny praising Thomas. Mr Barrow is so good at sports, Mr Barrow is so fast, Mr Barrow is so clever, could we take Mr Barrow some of these biscuits, I wish I was a girl so I could marry Mr Barrow when I grow up … That last one had Bates almost spitting out his tea while Anna laughed heartily. The worst one had been Johnny's musing about Master George claiming Thomas had to like him the most since he had no father and all of the others had one, so he needed Thomas the most. It pained Bates to see Johnny speak almost regretfully about having a father. He knew it was just a silly competition the children were having about an adult they all liked. He knew it, but it didn't make it any better.
Bedtime had been a struggle. Johnny had complaints about every single book Bates had tried to read to him, and once he had found one that wasn’t boooring , he had apparently managed to read it wrong. After some struggling Johnny did pat Bates’s arm and say he was reading well, but only after Bates had paused and probably seemed upset. When Bates had kissed his son goodnight, he couldn't help but wonder if Johnny would have preferred a kiss from Mr Barrow.
He and Anna were doing dishes again. It was Bates's turn to wash them while Anna dried them off.
“You mustn't let it get to you”, Anna said suddenly. Bates looked at his wife warily. “You are his father. Nothing will ever change that.”
It didn't give Bates much comfort. He sighed and stopped washing in order to lean on the counter top.
“When I was a child and things got really bad with my father, I used to visit my uncle a lot”, Bates said after a moment's silence. “He wasn't really my uncle, he was my father's friend who failed to help him every time he started drinking. But he could help me.”
Bates smiled sadly. “He spent time with me. Took me fishing and on long walks. He let me talk about everything going on at home. I couldn't do it with anyone else. My mother wouldn't hear a bad word about her husband and all of my siblings were younger and I felt the need to protect them.”
“I am so sorry, Mr Bates”, Anna said quietly. Bates had never told him details of his childhood. It all happened a long time ago, there was no need to dwell on it. Bates shook his head.
“Don't be. I am not talking about this to remember my father, but to remember him .” Bates sighed. “He was the best man I knew. And he made me laugh. I used to constantly dream of my father dying and him marrying my mother.”
“Mr Bates, you must know that it's not the same”, Anna said, her voice hard, like she wanted to show Bates she wouldn't hear such talk from her husband. “You are not your father. Johnny knows he is always safe with you. Thomas is important to him, but you are his father. He loves both of you.”
“Yes”, Bates admitted. “But that doesn't mean he prefers me.”
-
Bates had prepared himself for another charming scene of Thomas and Johnny, but as he stepped in the servants’ hall, he saw neither of them. He saw no one, in fact. Only the rattling of pans betrayed someone being in the kitchen. Bates peeked in and saw Daisy putting the kitchen in order for the night.
“Did Anna take Johnny home?” he asked. They had agreed that Johnny would walk with Bates tonight but maybe Anna had forgotten, since Bates spent the day away from Downton.
“No, Mr Bates. He grew ever so tired waiting for you so we thought he better get some sleep”, Daisy answered.
Bates felt guilty. It was late, they had travelled to London with His Lordship and caught a later train back than planned. Lord Grantham had apologized profusely and told Bates he could change without help but Bates had said it was not a problem. But Bates was tired. He didn’t blame his son for nodding off.
“Where is he?”
“In Thomas’s pantry.”
Of course he was. Bates flashed Daisy a weary smile. “Good night, Daisy.”
“Good night, Mr Bates.”
Bates made his way to the butler’s pantry and knocked softly on the door. As he opened the door, he first saw Thomas, sitting on the pantry’s new couch, looking at him with a finger on his lips. Ah, he was shushing him. Naturally. Bates’s gaze fell on Thomas’s lap and his heart sank. His son lay on the couch, head on Thomas’s lap. Johnny seemed blissful, as if Thomas’s thigh was the most comfortable of pillows. The boy’s small fist was holding Thomas’s coat hem.
“As you can see, I have been quite restrained, Mr Bates”, Thomas spoke softly. There was a book next to the pair, clearly Thomas had been reading it to Johnny. It wasn’t even a children’s book, nor did it look very exciting. Judging from the author, it looked like a romance novel. Bates knew Johnny had eaten up every word as they had left Thomas’s lips.
“Anna will be waiting for us”, Bates said in his normal voice. Thomas frowned. Bates didn’t understand why. It would be fine if Johnny woke up, they were leaving anyway.
“A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t go amiss”, Thomas commented, still speaking softly. It was increasingly irritating. Did Thomas want Johnny to sleep all night on his lap? Bates felt a fire scorching his soul, the smoke from the flames clouding his better judgement.
“You have never thanked me for anything, Thomas, no matter what I’ve done for you. Thanklessness is hardly an unfamiliar element in our relationship”, Bates responded icily and reached his hand in order to give Johnny a gentle shake, but Thomas raised his hand to stop him, looking at him suspiciously. Bates drew his hand back as if he was burned. He wondered if Thomas had thought he was going to shake Johnny roughly. Thomas petting Johnny’s hair and speaking softly seemed to confirm it.
“Hello, sleepyhead”, Thomas said, brushing a lock of hair from Johnny’s face. “Look who has finally joined us.”
Johnny scrunched his nose and yawned, blinking his eyes against the pantry’s faint light. He let go of Thomas’s coat hem and shuffled into a sitting position, still leaning towards Thomas like a houseplant leaned towards the window sunlight poured in from. Bates felt something inside him harden.
“You should get your coat, Johnny. We are going home.”
Johnny looked disappointed. He seemed half asleep still, but it didn’t stop him from mumbling to Thomas: “Can you read one more chapter?”
Thomas stood up, shaking his head. “No, it’s time for you to go home.”
Johnny was sad but of course he instantly obeyed Thomas and scrambled up. Bates squeezed his cane tightly. Thomas took Johnny’s coat that was hanging on the back of a chair. “Here, I’ll help you.”
“No, give it to me”, Bates said, holding out his hand. Thomas just didn’t take the hint.
“You don’t have to do it, Mr Bates, it’s no trouble…”
“He is still my son, isn’t he?” Bates snarled, making Thomas flinch and take a step back. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice but he felt satisfaction seeing Thomas startled. It passed quickly and Thomas’s face hardened. For a moment Bates felt like he saw a flicker of the old Thomas. The one he had slammed against the wall after the fair. Bates didn’t realize how little he had missed that boy until now.
“Fine”, Thomas said coldly and all but threw the coat at Bates. “Get out of my pantry.”
There was no need to ask twice. Bates grabbed Johnny’s hand and despite his son’s protests they exited the pantry.
-
“Johnny cried himself to sleep.” Anna sat down looking at Bates across the table. The look was not accusatory, but it wasn’t gentle either. Bates’s heart felt heavy and he couldn’t figure out how to explain everything to Anna.
“What were you thinking? Arguing in front of a child. Our child.” Anna folded her arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever be surprised at Thomas’s capability for cruelty, but I’m surprised at you.”
Bates stared at the table. He thought about the walk home. How Johnny had begged them to go back and apologize to Mr Barrow. How Bates had ignored those requests.
Bates was aware that he had a bad temper. Worse, occasionally he enjoyed dominating the situation. Startling Thomas had felt good. Like he was in control for once, not this man who was stealing his son away from him. It had reminded Bates of the times Vera had been particularly nasty and Bates had shut her up by saying something cruel. The thought scared Bates. He didn’t want to be a man who took pleasure in such things.
He had always thought he could avoid being a bad father by never losing his temper no matter what Johnny did. By always being gentle and forgiving and safe for his boy. But Bates should have known better. Directing his anger at other people didn’t necessarily make his loved ones feel more safe. He should have learned his lesson when he first noticed Anna not telling him when people upset her, so he wouldn’t get angry. Now he had upset Johnny by upsetting Thomas.
Apparently there were a myriad of ways to be a bad father.
“It was hardly an argument”, Bates muttered. Anna raised her eyebrows.
“Well, something happened that made our son think you hate Mr Barrow”, Anna said. Bates was silent.
“What did he say?” Anna asked. Now she sounded gentle. It was torture.
“I’m afraid it wasn’t Thomas’s fault”, Bates confessed. Anna was taken aback but she recovered soon enough.
“Never mind whose fault it was”, Anna said briskly. “You will be fixing it tomorrow.”
There was no arguing with that.
-
“Thomas.”
“Mr Barrow to you.”
Oh, so they were playing this game again. Thomas didn’t make apologies easy. Bates sighed and said: “Mr Barrow, I would like to speak to you alone.”
“So you can throw another hissy fit? No thank you.” Thomas looked at Bates with nothing but hostility in his eyes. There was something guarded and cold in his entire being. It was like nothing had changed these past years.
“Please.” Bates walked in front of the butler’s pantry’s door and tapped it with his cane. Thomas looked at Bates suspiciously but finally he relented and opened the door. Thomas walked in and turned around.
“Well? I don’t have all day.”
Insufferable man. Bates closed the door behind them.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Oh, so apologies do belong in our relationship. Good to know.” Thomas’s tone was biting and Bates knew he wouldn’t get back in his good graces without explaining himself.
“Thomas, you must understand…”
“What should I understand?” Thomas asked. There was a barely controlled tremor in his voice. Bates didn’t know Thomas well enough to tell if the tremor was caused by anger or anxiety. “Don’t want a man like me around your kid, is that it?”
Bates blinked. “Thomas, you can’t be serious. You are smart enough to know it’s not about that.”
“Don’t”, Thomas hissed. “I’m not silly for asking that. Don’t try to make me feel like I am.”
Bates was about to argue but he realized that Thomas was right. It wasn’t silly at all. Many men would have been uncomfortable with Thomas being around their children. Especially alone and unsupervised. It was only natural for Thomas to assume Bates's outburst had been about that. Fearing that kind of reaction must be very hard for a man who liked being around children as much as Thomas did. So Bates softened.
“No. You weren’t silly. And I’m sorry if I gave you any reason to think I was scared of that.”
Thomas seemed suspicious but he nodded. “Fine.”
“The real reason is…” Bates fiddled with his cane and sighed. “I am embarrassed to admit that I envy you.”
“Whatever you say.” There was dark mirth behind Thomas’s smile.
“Thomas, I am being serious.” Bates shifted his weight while leaning on his cane. “You see, my own father was never very kind to me.”
“My condolences. I cannot imagine what that is like”, Thomas said dryly.
“I hated him. Wished every day he was dead”, Bates confessed, not paying attention to Thomas’s sarcasm. “But I had an uncle who made it better. I’d dare to say he loved me. He had no children of his own, you see, so he could give all his affection to me. And he did. I think, in a way, he made me hate my father more. If he wasn’t there, I’d have thought all men were like my father. Because of him I knew some men were good and kind, and it made me bitter. It made me question why my father couldn’t be kind.”
Thomas was silent. Bates stared at him, trying to read his reaction.
“They are dead now. Both of them”, Bates said, “yet I have only one grave I wish to visit.”
The silence felt heavy between them. Thomas seemed pensive and troubled. Bates was hoping he would not regret offering the man such a personal story. There was always a possibility Thomas would just brush him off and say something hurtful. Thomas who felt himself wronged was even more likely to use his words to wound someone.
“So that is what you’re afraid of”, Thomas concluded. “Johnny saving all the flowers for my grave and not yours.”
Anger flashed in Bates’s eyes. He should have known talking to Thomas was no use. He was about to turn around and march out of the door, when Thomas predicted his intentions and said: “Wait.”
Bates halted, looking at Thomas who was looking troubled.
“Look.” Thomas sighed. “My father wasn’t kind to me either. And there was no uncle.”
Bates wasn’t exactly surprised to hear that, so it was easy for him to keep any possible sympathy hidden as he stared at Thomas. He certainly didn’t deserve any of it after being such a piece of work.
“When my parents were giving me a hard time, there was no one I could turn to”, Thomas said, his sincere words conflicting with the hardness that had settled on his face. Thomas fixed a steady gaze at Bates. “It isn’t just a bad thing for your child to have other adults besides you.”
“I am not planning on giving Johnny a hard time. Ever”, Bates pointed out.
“But you will hurt his feelings at some point. So will Anna.” Bates tried to deny this, but Thomas continued: “And if you never will, there will be something else. A crush he doesn’t want to tell his parents about. Or he breaks something by accident and is scared of your reaction. That’s when he will need a friend. The alternative is not him telling you, the alternative is him crying alone.”
Bates hadn’t thought about it that way. As much as he wanted to argue that he would raise Johnny in such a way that he’d feel free to tell him everything, he was aware that he had just yesterday lost his temper in front of Johnny and it hadn’t even been the first time. If Johnny had seen Bates get angry when a hall boy bullied another, how was he supposed to know he wouldn’t get angry if Johnny ever had a fight with his friends? If Johnny had seen him get angry at Thomas for seemingly no reason, how was Johnny to know Bates wouldn’t get angry about a broken vase or a torn coat?
And there were things Thomas would be more equipped to handle than Bates or even Anna. Even though such a thought felt heavy, and even though Bates knew Thomas’s inclinations were hardly contagious, he had considered the possibility of Johnny’s first crush not being a girl. It was not probable, but Johnny’s talk of marrying Mr Barrow had made the thought flicker through Bates’s mind for a fleeting moment. And Thomas would know what to do in that situation. But even if that scenario was unlikely, Thomas was hardly the person to judge Johnny if he ever got a girl in trouble, or if Johnny were to fell in love with Miss Caroline, or if Johnny ever did anything illegal. At some point Bates and Anna would talk to Johnny about their problems with the police, they would have to. And if they did, maybe Johnny wouldn’t want to burden them if he ever got caught pinching something. Maybe that’s when he’d need Mr Barrow to waltz in with his smug smirk, ready to help his young friend out of the jam.
Maybe Bates had been a proper fool.
“I know nothing of fatherhood and I never will”, Thomas said with the slightest hint of regret in his voice, “but I do know what comes of children who only trust themselves. And if there is one thing I know about you, Mr Bates, it is that you don’t want your son to turn out like me.”
Thomas smirked. Bates let out a small huff of laughter through his nose.
“You’re quite right, Mr Barrow.”
To be perfectly honest, at that precise moment John Bates could have imagined worse things.
-
Johnny was being very quiet. He was usually a chipper boy, always eager to talk about everything that had happened to him throughout the day. Johnny was silently stirring the potato soup on his plate.
“Don’t you like it, Johnny?” Anna asked, tearing herself a slice of bread. “Mrs Patmore said she didn’t put any cauliflower in it this time.”
“It’s fine”, Johnny mumbled, yet none of the soup managed to travel to the boy’s mouth. Anna glanced at Bates.
“What did you do today with the nannies and the other children?” Bates asked. He dipped his bread slice in the soup and looked at his son expectantly.
“We saw a bird.”
“What kind of bird?”
“A bird.”
Bates stirred his soup with his bread slice and asked: “What about Mr Barrow?”
“I don’t like Mr Barrow anymore.”
The sad tone made the lie obvious. As Bates heard those words, he felt like a right chump. He couldn’t help but notice how Johnny was doing what Johnny so often did. He just wanted to make his father happy, and now he was convinced not liking Mr Barrow was what it would take. How had he ever felt unloved by this boy?
“Really? I’m sad to hear it.”
Johnny looked up, puzzled but also obviously hurt, since his attempt at pleasing his father was so dreadfully unsuccessful. “I thought you don’t want me to play with him anymore.”
Anna raised her eyebrows at Bates and he knew he deserved it. Bates sighed and put his bread down on the table. He looked Johnny in the eye and smiled sadly.
“I am sorry about yesterday”, he said. “I should never have been unkind to Mr Barrow in front of you.”
Johnny and Anna both stared at Bates.
“I mean, I should never have been unkind to him. At all”, Bates corrected himself. “I was tired and irritable. He did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. Do you forgive me, Johnny?”
Johnny nodded.
“I forgive you, dad”, he said, but he still looked pensive. “Does that mean I can play with Mr Barrow?”
“Yes. Yes it does”, Bates said. “I am sorry if you felt like I was saying you couldn’t. You can play with him tomorrow again, if he only has the time.”
Johnny sucked his lower lip and said quietly: “I have a confession.”
Bates arched his eyebrow.
“I did play with Mr Barrow today. I just thought I’d have to keep it a secret”, Johnny whispered and gave his parents a sneaky smile. Bates and Anna looked at each other and laughed. Johnny’s smile grew into a grin.
“Well, you don’t. I want to hear about it”, Bates said, pouring himself a glass of water. “What did you do?”
Johnny beamed, stuffed a spoonful of soup in his mouth and asked: “Did you know that Mr Barrow is the best cricket player ever ?”
Bates looked at his wife with amusement in his eyes. Anna was gazing at him lovingly. Bates turned all his attention back to his son.
“I didn’t know that. But I’d love to know more.”
-