#crowbarrow

Thomas has always been a voracious reader and a prolific writer too. He's not the imaginative type to come up with stories of his own, but he's a keen observer and diarist, bitching and gossiping analysing and giving commentary on everything that's going on around him. For a long time, that's what keeps him grounded. And as we know (due to Philip's letters), he's not afraid to put things in writing and keep evidence around (even less so later on, when he's safe living at Crowborough; only Alix Crowborough is not amused).

And then the children come along and he becomes their Baba. The bonus father disguised as their father's valet who (among other things) reads them bedtime stories every single day. Eventually making up his very own ones to keep his dearest darling rapscallions entertained.

Have a snippet from an upcoming chapter:

“Of course, Your Grace,” Thomas responded smoothly, not a twinge belying his true emotions. “I hadn’t been made aware of your arrival. But I trust your trip went smoothly and things are well at home?” “Very much so. Though Lady Carrie’s rather anxious to know if Prince Teddy’s gotten himself devoured by the Wild Haggis after all?” Now, his servant’s mien dropped for a blink of an eye, or maybe one more. At the corner of Mary's mouth, the tiniest of smiles tugged in response. “Of course not. Pip and Squeak managed to avert that particular fate. Turns out the Wild Haggises are cannibals … or vegetarians, I haven’t decided quite yet.” It had long since become a cherished tradition in the Crowborough household and nursery: Thomas telling the children tall tales of Pip and Squeak, a pair of intrepid ravens who were trailing naughty Prince Teddy, heir to the kingdom of the bears, on his many adventures, keeping him out of trouble. Fairytale characters he’d invented on a whim one night when Carrie’d declared both the Brothers Grimm and Beatrix Potter’s imaginary worlds terribly boring, only no one – least of all Thomas himself – had thought they’d be here to stay. Oddly enough, new stories always tended to make an appearance after Philip and Thomas had been away travelling with the Prince of Wales, or indeed after he’d come visit at Crowborough.

Mary and Philip encourage Thomas to do something with that talent. He finally gives in, but insists on anonymity for their family's safety. So they invent a pseudonym and an author persona: a Mrs Thomas who lives in Sussex with a husband and seven children ... and due to a few friends and relations they have in the literary and publishing world (iykyk), he gets his first book deal.

Mrs Thomas's children's books become an instant success and later, beloved classics. Later in life, he ventures into writing for adults under his real name, building upon his experiences in service and the war. No one ever figures out that Mrs Thomas and Thomas Barrow are the same person.

And much, much later, after their parents' deaths and after homosexuality has been decriminalised, Sophie and Carrie find another manuscript in his desk: the story of a lonely young lord who falls in love with his handsome and ambitious valet, only everything goes to hell after a panicky, misguided, and ultimately failed blackmail attempt. That story basically follows Thomas's canon show storyline and an imagines an equally bleak and miserable future for Philip with a ghastly American heiress. Basically the "what if our Predicament had been entirely different" horror story that had haunted Thomas every time he felt he was too happy with his marriage and family. (In The Predicament, the blackmail attempt still happened, only they were able to reconcile and build a life together ...)

After some heated debates in the family council, they decide to publish it posthumously, and it becomes a scandalous success. (This last part of the headcanon draws heavily from the origin story of Portrait of a Marriage by Nigel Nicolson, son of Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson. Predicament readers know Sir Harold as the one with the aeroplane ... ;)