The postman had let one of Jimmy's letters fall behind a desk and it had been delayed two weeks. Thomas had been off his head with worry.
Jimmy was in America with Lord and Lady Grantham. Half of the staff had followed and Thomas was left in Yorkshire. A grave injustice, they'd both thought. The beginning of a relationship was supposed to be filled with passionate lovemaking and flirtatious looks at dinner. Instead Jimmy was far away and Thomas was left to sulk as Daisy made him a third cup of tea.
Thomas had not seen Jimmy in four months. Even worse, his letters were always pithy and uninformative outside of a little gossip about the family.
Dear Thomas,
I miss you very much. I wish you were here- we'd sneak off and have a right night on the town. Accidently dropped a plate of scones on an oil man from Texas. He laughed about it. Phew.
Love,
Jimmy
At least he signed them with love. That was the delayed letter.
"Do your job, why don't you!" Thomas had been spitting mad when the postman informed him, chuckling, that the letter had been lost. "You're the stupidest bloody chump I've ever laid eyes on! I ought to report you! I think I will" Then he had blushed and gone rigid with terror before storming off.
Thomas should have been grateful. It was his last letter from Jimmy.
Two months later the family returned.
And Jimmy was not with them.
"Barrow, he's resigned," Lord Grantham said, frowning. "I know you're friends at least. I thought he'd have written you."
In that moment Thomas felt the floor dropping out slowly from beneath him. Walls moved.
"No...no, he didn't write me," Thomas said flatly.
"Put us in a spot, I'll tell you," Grantham sighed. "I guess New York agreed with him. But I'm sure we'll find another man soon enough."
"Sure we will," Thomas muttered.
But Thomas knew he would not be finding another man.
Sure, there might be men. But Jimmy Kent had been his greatest love. He couldn't imagine there would be another.
Six months of nothing letters and then...just nothing.
That night Thomas sat at his window and thought of them naked in his bed, Jimmy fidgeting with the hair on Thomas's chest-his own golden waves disheveled and mussed up over his eyes as he grinned up at Thomas.
"This is the best thing there is," Jimmy had said in his low voice. "You're the best thing there is. Nothin' better." He'd kissed Thomas's chest over and over. "I love you... I love you madly... God, how I love you..."
Thomas wept that night after Lord Grantham broke news. He was tired of weeping over men but there was nothing for it.
That was it then.
Four more months passed with no word from Jimmy. He was gone. And all the playful pinches and knowing looks at card games and shared cigarettes and arguments over politics and religion (Jimmy didn't know too much maybe, but he could have a good conversation even so) were gone with him.
"'Course I'm alone. Of course, I am." He said this to himself often. Daisy saw how shattered he was. She may not have completely understood it, but she knew Jimmy had mattered to him and that he was gone. She brought him cakes.
