This is a little different, I'm much more comfortable with humour and light dialogue but what is fanfic for if not to be out of your comfort zone? I don't think I'll be revisiting this almost melancholic atmosphere any time soon.
Thank you to my lovely beta who put up with me making changes on this for two weeks…I pretty much rewrote the whole thing twice. I almost didn't post this as I just don't think it's that great but…hey Banna and babies so why not?
Gosh my author's notes are so long. I don't own Downton Abbey or anything to do with ABBA except a battered copy of ABBA Gold.
Anna wasn't really sure why they decided to take two tired little ladies to the theatre.
She hadn't had the heart to turn him down when he came up to bed late one night with a laptop carefully balanced in his arms, the glare of the screen making her shield her eyes as he all but begged her to agree. The seats were in the stalls, after all, and so close to Christmas it was really quite a bargain.
She knew it was because he'd seen Esme perfect her Dancing Queen routine in front of the mirror before school, heard Charlotte sing herself to sleep with 'Chickitootoo' (she still can't get her head around the name of the song, but Anna never wants her to). He knew how much this would mean to them, and she knew that she had picked the perfect father for her children.
Nonetheless, by the time they had settled into their seats at the theatre she was beginning to question her sanity. Lottie had been whining all evening, and Esme had refused to put down her book. Perhaps having John as the father of her children wasn't the wisest idea after all. It was difficult to counter those puppy dog eyes, especially when they were framed by chestnut curls or a button nose buried in a book.
Esme and John were held up in whispers, discussing their favourite songs to come. It was his fault, really. The car's radio had packed in and she had asked him to put together some CDs before the trip up to Downton earlier that year. The silly beggar had started his job, placing ABBA Gold in the car, but had been sidetracked by Esme begging him to play hide and seek. He too believed that the looks of his spouse, big blue eyes and golden curls, were impossible to refuse. A few junctions up the M1 and John had discovered that his job was unfinished, leaving the Bateses to spend a total of 10 hours up to and back from Downton with only ABBA for company.
Glancing over at their youngest, Anna allowed herself a smile. At five, Lottie was the mirror of her father as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and swung her little legs back and forth, hazel eyes looking thoughtfully at the safety curtain.
"Excited for Chickitootoo Lottie-Loo?" Lottie smiled distantly at her mother, nodding her head. The nickname was a favourite of Anna's, given lovingly to Lottie by her big sister, but she suddenly regretted using it as Lottie tilted her head and looked at her almost gravely. Anna returned the gesture but with even more apprehension.
"Mamma… can you call me Charlotte?" Lottie asked innocently, fiddling with the hem of her dress that she had picked out herself. "Isabella at school says it is super pretty, prettier than Lottie. And Lottie-Loo was only for when I was a baby, that's what Esme says."
Tears sprung into Anna's eyes, but before she could reply the music began and Lottie's attention was lost. Anna sighed, watching Lottie for a few moments more before leaning her head against her husband's shoulder as she tried to get swept up in the feel-good musical.
By the interval Esme was starry-eyed and tucking into ice cream but Charlotte's eyes were beginning to droop. John tapped Anna on the shoulder, pointing at their youngest.
"Magic. She's finally tired," he grinned.
"I think you'll find she's been tired all day, John, and you know it," Anna retorted, sighing, "She'll be fine, though. She's old enough to stay awake this far. She's a big girl." The last sentence came out almost bitterly, and Anna immediately felt the concerned eyes of her husband on her.
"Anna, love? What's wrong?" he was always so sweet, her John. The worry in his voice was enough to make her want to cry. She was about to answer when Lottie climbed into her lap and settled herself against her mother's chest.
"I can see better now Mamma," she whispered, adding a muffled 'thank you' before nestling into Anna's neck, sucking her thumb.
Anna smiled at her husband. "Nothing's wrong, not really."
As the second half began Anna became aware of Lottie gently pressing her little hand across the pad of Anna's own thumb, an action she had started when she was very young to sooth herself. Anna smoothed Lottie's curls across her forehead and sang quietly into her ear along with the songs. This act brought more familiar songs to the girls, and she could see Esme almost bouncing out of her seat in excitement.
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning,
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile.
Anna shut her eyes. Of all the songs.
The feeling that I'm losing her forever,
And without really entering her world.
She opened them again. Of all the days.
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
I try to capture every minute,
The feeling in it,
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
Do I really see what's in her mind?
Each time I think I'm close to knowing,
She keeps on growing,
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
She glanced at her husband, who looked back at her wistfully, wrapping Esme's petite hand in his large one. A moment later she felt Lottie's tiny fingers absent-mindedly thread through her own, and the tears she had been holding back until then began to spill down her face. Her dear, sweet baby.
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture,
And save it from the funny tricks of time.
Quietly, she lifted her right hand up towards John, and he his left. They touched hands briefly, exchanging wistful smiles once more, before linking their fingers. They truly were blessed.
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning,
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile.
Hours later, after watching the girls cover their eyes at their father's Dad-dancing, after carrying two sleepy-heads home on the Tube, after hearing a mumbled "g'night Mamma and Daddy" twice over in the most precious voices (though they'd escaped teeth brushing, cheeky monkeys), John settled into bed next to his wife. She was faced away from him, buried under the duvet, and he found himself listening for her even breathing before he turned off the lamp. Instead he heard soft, shuddering breaths and watched her shoulders heave.
"Anna, oh my love," he moved towards her, pulling her into his arms. She rolled over and began to sob more audibly now, clutching onto his pyjama top and shaking. He held her as she cried, kissing her forehead and whispering terms of endearments into her ear in the desperate attempt to have his happy wife back.
As she calmed she began to apologise.
"I'm fine. Just tired. I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Anna, please don't apologise. You're married, and that means that you never have to cry alone again," he stroked her cheek lightly. "Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Oh, it's just me being silly. Lottie isn't little anymore, and Esme's practically an adult with the amount she reads. They wouldn't let me pick their dresses for tonight, you know? Lottie doesn't even want to be Lottie anymore, she wants to be Charlotte and I hardly even get to know what's in Esme's head now she's so old. And then there was that song in the show and before we know it they'll be married and-" she stopped suddenly, smiling up at him sadly and chuckling despite herself. "I really am a mess, John."
"Love, of course they're growing up. That's what children do."
"But they're our babies, John. They're not supposed to." She pouted, and he had to smile at her resemblance to their girls.
"They'll always need their Mamma, Anna. You saw today, Lottie would have missed half the show without you." He began to thread his hands through her hair to calm her.
"I know. Time just passes so fast." Anna sniffed quietly before pressing a kiss to his shoulder and burrowing into his neck. "I'm just not ready to have no baby in the house just yet."
"I guess we'll have to have another then." He joked, smirking as she scoffed. Her puff of laughter suddenly turned thoughtful and she pushed herself up on his chest, eyes wide.
"We could, you know."
This shocked him. "I was joking."
"I wasn't." She paused, toying with the lapel of his pyjama top. "What do you think?"
"I think this has come rather out of the blue." This was not at all where he expected the conversation to go at all, but he couldn't deny a small thread of excitement.
"Would…would you mind?" she whispered in a small voice, sounding not only hesitant, but also worried.
"Mind?" now he sounded incredulous. "Anna, I'd love nothing more. But even if nothing ever comes of this, I love our girls more than anything, you know that. Let's talk more tomorrow. We have plenty of time." The corners of her lips turned up as she settled against his side and began to drift slowly into sleep.
"Plus it would give you another few years to come to terms with this concept of growth."
"Don't tease, John."
"Sorry, love. Goodnight." He turned out the lamp.
Sometime early the next morning he felt a warm weight on his chest, and woke to see Lottie curled up next to him, head on his chest much like her Mamma had been previously, sucking her thumb. He looked over to see his other two girls (for when one came the other always followed); Anna's small arms were wrapped tightly around Esme pressing her close, their hair becoming one flowing mass of gold.
In moments like these it was hard to believe how quickly time had passed them by. He had blinked and Esme was in the world, taking everything in with kindness, affection and careful thought. He had blinked once more and there was Lottie, her own little personality rapidly becoming known. Stubborn and loud but fiercely loyal and loving.
Smiling, laughing, crawling, talking, walking, learning, growing.
Another blink and here they were now, already on their way to being their own people. Not nearly as reliant on their parents as they once were.
Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling,
And a sense of guilt I can't deny.
The concept of growth. Perhaps he needed more time to come to terms with it too.
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
This was inspired by the couple in front of me and their two daughters at Mamma Mia! a few weeks back. They did the whole hand touching and linking thing along with some tears during that song, littlest daughter on her Mamma's lap and all. I stopped watching the show at that moment and lost myself in Banna-land.