Things were quiet for a few days. The novelty of not really working anymore had worn off, and everyone was starting to get a little fidgety and bored, even though Carson and Mrs Hughes insisted on the occasional dust and clean. Jimmy and Thomas had spoken very little since their awkward situation in town the other day. Thomas felt rather melancholy about the whole thing, it felt as if their friendship had dipped, and this made him frustrated; he really really wanted to fix it, but he thought the only way to do that was if Jimmy just told him what his bloody problem was.

Jimmy on the other hand, was just getting angrier. If Thomas would just be more open with him, this whole thing could be avoided. But he was too stubborn to just give up now and tell him why he'd been so distant. No, this was only going to end if Thomas did something about it.

One afternoon, Jimmy had himself a cup of tea, and was wondering about downstairs. He was moping a bit, and although he knew it was childish of him, he didn't care. He'd been avoiding Thomas like the plague, part of him hoping Thomas would corner him and just let it all out. But it just wasn't happening. Anyway, Jimmy slowly made his way to the servants hall, to see Anna sitting alone, a sight which was rather rare.

"Y'alright?" he asked, her eyes looking up to meet his. "Where's Mr Bates?"

"He's gone down to the village, just to get some things for our cottage," she said nonchalantly.

"And you didn't want to go with him?"

Anna shrugged, "it's not that I didn't want to go, I've just felt a little ill recently, so Mr Bates insisted I stay here."

"Ah I see..." Jimmy trailed off, thinking the atmosphere would turn awkward, but it didn't. Anna went back to reading her book. A sudden wave of curiousity struck Jimmy. He'd been thinking for a while now about who probably knows Thomas best besides him, and it was only now, that he realised it was probably Anna. They were on relatively good terms, and as far as he knew, both of them had been working here for a long time. Jimmy took a deep inhale of breath, then strode over to take a seat next to her.

She looked up in surprise and waited in anticipation for him to say something.

"Um, Anna, I was wondering, about Mr Barrow, and I um," Jimmy didn't know why he was stuttering so much. Or blushing. "Errr, well, I figured that, out of everyone, you probably know him best, and I wanted to ask, is there a reason everyone dislikes him so much?"

Anna seemed surprised again, as if the answer was more than obvious. "Well, there's... Quite a compilation of reasons really. The first you must have noticed, he's not exactly the kindest person in the world. You wouldn't disagree that sometimes he can come across as a little rude, right?"

Jimmy nodded, accepting that. It didn't put him off though. Anna closed her book, paying more attention to him now. "Look, I don't like to gossip about others, especially Thomas. I don't know why but I've always sort of pitied him." Jimmy raised an eyebrow to that, but let her continue. "He's just a bit... different."
"How do you mean different?" he asked, feeling a little clueless.
Anna gave him a sceptical look, as if trying to figure something out. Her tense expression soften and she sighed and smiled weakly at him. "Look, it's not that important... To answer you're original question, it's just general things really. He's just not really in anyone's good books, in fact, he probably caused the start of the 'bad book'. But I don't mind him, I know he tends to mean well, and I know he cares about you."

Jimmy's flush deepened at that last statement, not really knowing how it made him feel, just that he had an awkward warm feeling in his chest. He snapped his eyes up at Anna and knew this was the moment to leave. And so he did, with a half-hearted nod in Anna's direction.

Meanwhile, down in the village, Thomas had been feeling generous and offered, very much to Mrs Patmore's surprise, to go and get some supplies for her, before the shut for the day. It was a cool evening, with very little activity going on at the house, so Thomas fancied a break outside. He left the shop he'd gone to, to find Ivy a few steps up from it, sitting on a bench, looking unnervingly cross. She flinched when she noticed Thomas, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Um, are you okay Ivy?" he asked cautiously.

"No, Mr Barrow I'm not. And quite frankly you are the last person I want to talk to about it."

Thomas huffed, having absolutely no argument with that, but figured he ought not to leave her with such angry expression, in fear she may go on a rampage of some sort around the village. He walked over, a little closer to her, but stopped short when she sent him a somehow even angrier stare.

"This is all our fault you know!" she exploded.

"What? What have I done now?"

"Why did you lie to me about Jimmy?"

Thomas' heartbeat quickened a little and his words faltered him.

"I don't- um, wh-what do you mean?"

"He doesn't like me! Why did you lie to me?! You seriously got my hopes and it was unfair of you to do so. I bet you and Jimmy got a real good laugh out of that."

Thomas felt incredibly confused. "I didn't lie to you Ivy, I swear! I thought he genuinely had feelings for you! I was only trying to help."

"Well you did a really great job of that," she said, voice thick with sarcasm. "Now I feel like a total fool. Thanks a lot for your help, Thomas."

Thomas was taken a back by both her informality and this bombardment of news. Jimmy didn't like Ivy? How could he have got this so wrong? Now, he really felt like an idiot. And he was pissed. He didn't bother questioning Ivy on the validity of her information, because by the look on her infuriated-turned-near-heartbroken expression, he knew she was telling the truth. He turned, leaving Ivy looking marginally distressed at the sight of Thomas practically stomping away in a barely restrained fit. He didn't know why he was so angry, he just was. Maybe it was all his built up emotions of that stupid blonde boy that had just decided to surface. Maybe it was because even though he knew he couldn't have Jimmy that way he wanted, even when he tried to be a good friend, he'd screwed that up too.

The brisk walk up to the house made Thomas even more flushed and breathless than he'd intended to be upon his confrontation of Jimmy, and the sky had darkened to a red haze of a sunset. Once he'd gotten back, he'd looked round the downstairs for him, desperately searching for this idiotic, brainless person who he felt so, so strongly for. He found him, sitting in the servant's hall, softly playing a tune on the piano. He had a content look on his face, his blonde hair just fell at the front over his tired eyes, his fingers stroking the keys with such ease and fluidity. The tune that came from the piano was slow and sad; and as Thomas witnessed all this, his anger seemed to fizzle out for just a moment, as he watched Jimmy play, looking the most perfect he'd ever seen him.

It took Thomas another moment to realise Jimmy had stopped playing, and was looking up at him with a sort of look of anticipation. The way he seemed so expectant for something caused Thomas' rage to snap back to the surface.

"Can I talk to you." he said loudly, not even as a question. Jimmy paled in response and slowly followed Thomas out the back, and left everyone else who was sitting there to look at each other with mild curiosity and intrigue.

The night air had turned colder still, and they stood facing each other, about 3 meters apart, until Jimmy finally spoke up.

"Well you seem angry..."

"Yes, Jimmy, well spotted," spat Thomas in reply, "and why do you think that is?"

Jimmy thought carefully, trying to choose a safe response, before giving up and sighing heavily. "Look if this is about me being off with you I-"

"Why didn't you tell me you don't like Ivy anymore?" he cut Jimmy off. "Is that what you wouldn't tell me?"

Again, Jimmy stood thinking for a second, before surrendering to his own pent up annoyance. "Yes," he replied simply, "it is."

"Well why on earth did you not say anything?!" Thomas was practically shouting, "you have got to be kidding me! I've spent the last few weeks trying to get this tiny, stupid bit of information out of you? Christ Jimmy, you had me so worried; I was expecting something a lot more catastrophic than that for you to look so bloody depressed all the time."

"Oh for goodness sake Thomas, are you really having a go at me right now? I decide to keep this tiny bit of information from you and that gives you the right to get so unnecessarily angry at me?"

"What are you getting at Jimmy?"

"I'm getting at the fact you never bloody tell me anything! So why should I keep telling you stuff when you never share anything with me. I don't know much more than your name, but you know everything about me! So you tell me why exactly I should've told you huh?"

"You should have told me because now I've made a complete fool out of both myself and Ivy."

"Ivy? What's she got to do with this?"

"Well, since you first told me you thought you liked her, I've been trying to set you up. Don't tell me that you couldn't see the onslaught of hints she's been dropping you recently. But you, being your usual stupid self have apparently lost interest in her! So, if you had told me, I can tell you know that it would have saved a bucket load of embarrassment and dignity for us, so I could've stopped encouraging her." Thomas slumped against the wall in frustration and Jimmy took a step closer to him in their heated argument - though he seemed to have calmed down a little.

"But don't you see Thomas, if you just bloody opened up a little more to me it would've saved us all this trouble now. So don't turn around and try to blame this on me."