Okay. So, I don’t have a book near me, so why not something from WIP Files? I got stuck on how to finish this up and it’s one of my odder ideas, but I could never quite get the idea out of my head…
So. Well Thomas Barrow Meets Diana Prince:
Thomas loved clocks and he loved being inside a clock shop. The sound of a clocks surrounding him. The wood and oils involved held a specific and homey scent. It made him feel safe. Something he thought was rather a contradiction given the last time he been his father’s workshop he’d been anything but safe. He sighed at the bad memory — it always followed but it never stayed. The clocks made it fade away. He studied the grandfather clock he was standing in front of him and opened the face of it, to peek behind it into the inner workings — thought about making a clock for himself that didn’t hide the insides. Clocks were intricate, complicated but if puzzled together correctly they never let you down as long as you gave them some love and care.
It was simple and knowing it gave him comfort. He stood for a long while in the far back of the clock shop and watched the grandfather clock gear through the minutes. His breath even out and he felt calmer and sure that he had in the weeks since becoming Lord Grantham’s valet. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the shop. Who needed a church when this existed he thought and he wished that Downton had clock shop. He wished he owned one and he smiled a bit a familiar dream and fantasy taking over. A place where he led a simple and secure life — it wasn’t a dream he indulged in often but it was lovely.
But voices from the front of the shop intruded in on his fancies of a life where he could be himself without worry. Lost in clocks and hopefully love. He frowned, the annoyed shout of a man reminding him far too harshly about the reality of his life. Thomas blinked and sighed. He closed the face of the grandfather clock, hiding its insides and gave it one last fond gaze. It was time to walk back into the light rain of the day and return to his life as a valet. He started toward the front of the shop and found it impossible to ignore the conversation taking place.
“I’ll take it off your hands, it isn’t worth much but we can up with something…”
“I would like it to work again?”
“It’s cheap and American lady, I can’t make it work. Can use its parts for other things so let’s make a deal…”
“It’s not for sale… if you can’t fix it, I would like it back.”
“Let’s make a deal lady, you can get yourself some nice jewelry or something.”
“I have no need for jewels?” she said. “Please give it to me.”
Thomas told himself to leave as he came into view of both the counter and the door to the outside. But his eyes went to the counter, or rather the woman in front of it and the owner behind it. He was a bald man, with a harsh expression who made Thomas’ stomach roil a bit as he couldn’t help but see his father in the look behind the man’s eyes. He wasn’t a nice man and this made Thomas frown.
“Give it back to me please,” the woman repeated.
Her accent was strange was the first thing Thomas noted and the next was her style of dress — in fact, she wasn’t wearing a dress at all but pants and what seemed like a feminine version of man’s suit and hat much like his own. Her bearing was different, straighter, prouder — regal? He thought and he found himself stepping closer to get a better look at her. She was intensely staring at the watch that the shop owner still held. Something fierce was behind her eyes that told Thomas the sweet expression on her face was a bit of a lie.
“He’s lying,” Thomas heard himself say before he was quite away he was going to butt into the woman’s business.
“What would you know?” the owner barked.
He stepped up closer, reached over the counter and plucked the watch out of the owner’s hand while he was still distracted by Thomas’ presence. He held the watch up to the light to look at it. It wasn’t all that special and it wasn’t a brand name he knew, so it was possible it was American. It was an old pocket watch, strapped with leather to be worn around a wrist. Thomas held to the light and thought that it’d been loved.
“Give it back,” the owner shouted.
“He could get a good price with this, reselling it,” Thomas told her as he handed it to her. “You’re right not to sell it to him.”
She took it from, her eyes on it with such reverence Thomas wondered who it was it belonged too. It must have been a good man, he thought, the way she touched the face of it and her face fell with sadness. But she looked up up at him and he felt her fierce eyes on him and felt like she was looking through him. “Thank you.”
Thomas shrugged and looked away, he hadn’t done much at all. The owner simply reminded him of someone he hated, so he was doing his best to annoy him. He shot the man a knowing smirk.
“Get out of my shop, the both of you,” the man shouted.
Thomas laughed at him before he started toward the door. He felt the woman behind him, so he opened the door and allowed her to leave the shop in front of him. He stepped out into the rain and bowed his head down against it, as he heard the woman opening an umbrella behind him.
“Excuse me?” she called out.
Thomas took a step away from her but curiosity had him turning back around. “Yes?”
“You know about watches?” she asked as Thomas met and refused to look away from her intense gaze. He felt hope pouring out of her and he sighed because did he really want to give up what was left of his free time on this? “Please?” she added as if sensing his reluctance. “If you do?”
“Would you?” she held out the watch to him.
He looked around them. “Here in the rain isn’t the best place…”
“I’ll buy you lunch,” she said with an odd smile.
“For payment? For looking at it?”
He was hungry and if she was going to pay for it. Thomas nodded and she grinned at him like she’d been given a present. Moments later he followed her into a nice little pub down the street. The waitstaff waved friendly hellos to the woman as she led him to a specific table — this must be her local haunt he thought as he slid across from her at the table. And she slid the watch across the wood toward him.
He picked it up and held it to his ear. Nothing. He moved it around a bit, figuring out how the leather been fitted around it and found the back of it. “I have too…” he said indicating where small hinges were.
Thomas flinched and wondered if he’d ever heard those words. He stared at her as a large piece of him fighting against the notion. It was insane for her to trust him, to trust anyone…
“You’re a good man,” she said with certainty.
“I’m not,” he laughed but he was curious and he opened the watch to take a look at its insides. See what care it needed and if he could do anything for her — it’d be nice to fix the watch. If only because he knew she’d care for it. He felt her eyes on him the entire time as he studied it. He saw the problem quickly and it looked easy enough to fix, if he had the tools.
“With the right parts and tools,” he said and closed it up.
“If I get them will you fix it?” she asked.
“I… I’m not in London much longer.”
“We’ll go back to the shop.”
“He won’t sell us the parts.”
“I’ll make him,” she said simply.
“Diana?” a woman walked up to the table.
“We’re leaving,” she said to the woman with a smile. “But will be right back, two of my usual.”
“Okay, how long will you be…”
“Not very,” the woman said — Diana, Thomas realized her name was and he was following her, though he wasn’t sure why at all.
“He won’t deal with us,” he said again.
“Like I said, I’ll make him…” she said.
Thomas shrugged and followed her back into the shop. She rang the bell on the counter. The owner walked out and took one look at them and shook his head. “No, no. You two get out of my shop.”
“I told you…” Thomas started but this eyes nearly popped out of his head as the woman threw a rope toward the shop owner and it wrapped around him. He stared as she tightened the rope around the man’s body.
“Ask him for the parts you need,” she said.
She glanced at him, that fierceness in her eyes was stark but it was also clear. There was something hypnotizing about it. “Ask him for the parts you need?”
He nodded as she repeated the command and he asked for the parts and watched the owner seem to struggle against telling him where they were. But Diana tightened the rope and simply commanded. “Tell him.”
And the man spilled everything, even went as far as pointing out what might work better, for what needed to be fixed. Proving that he’d known the watch was fixable all along. Thomas gathered the parts and watched her put money on the counter on for the parts before she flicked her wrist and the rope unfurled and gathered back up in her hands and then it vanished back to where it came from and she simply turned and left the shop — as if nothing strange at all occurred.
Thomas followed her, in a bit of daze and slightly wondering if possibly he’d gone mad. But then he was sitting down at the table, there was soup in front of him and a steaming hot cup of tea. He started eating it and she sat across from him doing the same.
“I am Diana,” she offered finally. “Can you fix it here?”
“Thomas,” he offered her and nodded. The watch was slid across the table toward him again and he got himself a bit more comfortable. Pushed his dishes to the side and got to work on it. It was simple, though a bit intricate and his left hand kept cramping from having to be in one position for so long. He flexed it and tried to tighten his glove because sometimes that helped it.
“What happened to your hand?”
He looked up and felt smug he didn’t let the sharpness of her expression make him flinch. But he was thrown but the simplicity of curiosity in her face. He hated questions about his hand, usually those who asked looked at his hand, him and came to what was the proper conclusion. He hated the judgment, he hated the superiority. But Diana with her kind face and fierce eyes looked merely curious.
“It happened in the war.”
“Were in the front?” she asked.
“I’m so sorry,” she said with true kindness. “I saw pain and sadness first hand. I only wish I could’ve done more….”
“Done?” he asked confused and curious. “You saw the front?”
“Yes…. What happened? Were you shot?”
Thomas felt his walls erect and he looked back down at the watch. At its gears and cogs, the wires and at what he could fix. It was simple, it just needed some care.
“You don’t wish to speak of it… I understand. My friend Charlie carries great pain from both horrors seen and done.”
“Many do, I suppose,” Thomas murmured and he snapped the spring in place, the watch starting immediately in his hands. He felt the slight vibration of its movement. He closed it up and handed it over to her.
Her entire face lit up and she took it in both hands and stared at it lovingly. But he saw the cloud of sadness that creeped over her face. But she looked at him with knowing eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Thomas. It is very dear to me.”
She smiled. “A brave man. A kind man.”
