Chapter Text
“Thomas!” Dr. Clarkson called from down the street. He jogged the short way over, waving his hat around like it might fly away.
The man in question stood to wait for him with a sort of dread. He hadn’t really spoken to the doctor since the saline incident the previous year, nor did he particularly care to. Yet, here he was being flagged down in the village on his way back from yet another pointless interview.
“I’m glad I caught you! I had something to ask,” Clarkson announced once he’d reached Thomas, still gesticulating with his hat.
Nice to see you, Thomas. Hope your arse is doing better, Thomas. “Go on, then, Dr. Clarkson.”
“Well, I heard you were, perhaps, looking for other employment. I was wondering if you might be interested in coming to work at the hospital.”
Thomas didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Me? I don’t have the experience, Dr. Clarkson. Not anymore. Besides, I’ve been interviewing for butler positions.”
“Nonsense; you were perfectly capable assisting me with Lord Grantham. That’s what had me thinking about it, in fact-”
“But, as I said, I’m interviewing for butler positions.”
Clarkson reset himself as though he just hadn’t pushed the right buttons. “I know it’s not ideal, but we could really use the extra set of hands. I also know there aren’t a great many houses looking for butlers at present.”
Thomas wanted to glare at him for pointing it out, but thought better of it. He waited for the doctor to continue.
“You’d be an orderly, so you wouldn’t need much more training unless you wanted it. It’s rewarding work, and you could easily move up with education. Or, out, if you like. There’s always a place for those with medical experience, anywhere in the world.”
As much as he hated the idea, he had to admit it sounded better than staying in service if his interviews were any indication. “I’d have to think about it,” he said.
“Of course,” the doctor conceded, “Perhaps you could come by the hospital when you can—see for yourself.”
Thomas nodded, and quickly made himself scarce.
***
After a week of indecision and some more pushing from Carson, Thomas stood at the front gate of Downton Cottage Hospital. Looking at it brought him back to the infection as well as the war. But, he had little option now, so he walked on.
He found Dr. Clarkson in his office, after getting directions from a nurse. The older man jumped up to greet him, as if they were old friends seeing each other for the first time in a while. “Thomas! I do hope you’re here on business.”
“Suppose I am. I’ve not made up my mind yet, though.”
“No, I hadn’t expected you to. It would be quite a change for you, I’m sure. Shall I give you the grand tour?” Clarkson started for the door Thomas had just come through with his arm outstretched.
“Only if you aren’t busy, doctor. I wouldn’t want to keep you from anything.”
“It’s no trouble. Come along,” he answered as he ushered Thomas out and into the hall.
They went through the various rooms, of which there weren’t many. Most of them were familiar, if a bit different than the last time Thomas had seen them. However, Clarkson also gave an overview of what Thomas’s potential job would entail day-to-day.
The nurses would do most of the work with patients, he explained, while Thomas would help with heavy lifting and preparing equipment. It sounded easy enough, but it also sounded beneath him. Then again, it might be the only option soon, and it would certainly be better than nothing.
Clarkson ended the tour by introducing Thomas to one of his patients—a little girl about Sybbie’s age. Dammit. Naturally, Thomas knelt by her bed to say hello as the doctor explained her condition, the girl’s visibly tired mother smiling pitifully at them.
“And who’s this?” Thomas asked when the girl seemed a bit shy, pointing at the ragged stuffed bear in her arms.
“Mr. Bear,” she answered.
The mother explained, “She brings her stuffie everywhere. Always has.”
Thomas gave the girl the most comforting smile he could, in his situation. “It’s always nice to have a friend, isn’t it?”
The girl nodded, and the two men moved on. Thomas glared into the doctor’s back as he led him to his office once again, bitter about the obvious manipulation tactic. Or, more accurately, bitter that it had worked as intended.
“So, that’s our little hospital,” Clarkson said as he closed the door behind them. “I think you’d enjoy the work, Thomas.”
“I’m not sure I have much of a choice anymore, if I’m honest.”
“And I am sorry to hear that. I truly am.”
Thomas clenched his good hand into a fist at his side, then let it loose again. “ If I were to accept, which I haven’t yet, where would I stay?”
The doctor took his seat behind his desk and gestured for Thomas to sit as well. “Oh, I’m sure we can find you accommodations in the village. Until then, you’re welcome to stay with me temporarily, at the cottage just behind the hospital. I have an extra bedroom.”
He felt like he could scream. Had Dr. Clarkson simply forgotten what type of man Thomas was? That it was his decision that caused…nevermind that. What sort of man would offer his spare bedroom to him, after everything, and expect him to accept? God, he wished he had something else—literally any other option.
But, he didn’t, and so he accepted the position pending his resignation at Downton.