A/N: Happy Birthday, Kate!

So I have already tried my hand at two fanfic tropes: Coffeeshop AU and Flowershop AU. I could not resist the idea of writing a Fake!Dating AU and a Bed Sharing AU, so I thought I would combine them both here because these two prompts were in the same set. This fic is based on: we're on a roadtrip with some friends and we have to share a hotel room and there's only one bed and a whole lot of sexual tension au and you're pretending to be my significant other so my mum gets off my case only she's assuming we're going to be sleeping in the same bed together oh dear' au (the second prompt is worked into the second part of this oneshot).

I do apologise that it's another long fic. My next one won't be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.


Double Entendre

April 2019

It was a beautiful afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The sun shone. For a Friday in April, the weather was mild. The weather was reflecting her mood in every way.

Anna met Robert Crawley at the door. He gave her a soft smile, a smile that was unlike his usually cheerful and laidback demeanour.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

She had never been more ready for anything, she thought, but she just nodded.

"It's not too late to back away if you want to," said Robert.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away today," she said.

He smiled at her again. "I thought as much. But it's my job to check. Even if the idiot is my best mate."

She tightened her hold on her bouquet of flowers. "I know. Thank you."

He cleared his throat, offering his arm to her. "You're welcome. Now, I do believe we have an appointment to keep."

Together, they turned and entered the building before them. The cool air was heaven on her skin, and she took a deep breath. This was it. The moment she had been longing for for so long. She allowed Robert to guide her further inside.

And then there he was. Standing at the bottom of the short aisle, his face alight with wonder and joy. She couldn't help but beam in return. It was hard to look away from him, but she did so briefly, at the small crowd crammed into the first couple of pews. Mrs. Hughes, dabbing at her eyes, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, who looked fit to burst, the rest of the Crawley family beaming with pride. And her own mum and sister and brother-in-law. Her mum had tears streaming down her face. Cat grinned, pointing at herself and then giving her a thumbs-up. Anna had to swallow a snort. Only Cat would be arrogant enough to take the credit for her big day. Although, she had to concede, in many ways she might be right…

If Anna had been told three years ago that the week of her sister's wedding would change her own life for good, she probably would have wondered what on earth they had been smoking. She had longed for more, it was true, but she would certainly not have believed that such a clichéd scenario would have brought her together with the man that she was in love with.

But, she acknowledged as she reached the bottom of the aisle and John's hand slipped into hers, under these circumstances, she didn't mind being proved wrong.


March 2016

The sound of the letterbox clattering roused Anna from her sleep. It was as sharp as a whip, slicing through her light slumber. Groaning, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, scrabbling to check the time on her phone. It was gone ten. She'd managed a decent lie in on this Saturday morning.

She pushed her feet into her slippers and shucked on her dressing gown, shuffling into the hallway for the pile of mail that had arrived. She picked it up and made her way into the little kitchen, filling the kettle and sitting herself down at the table while she waited for it to boil. There was a bill for her credit card, a leaflet advertising Greasy Joe's, a new takeaway in the area that sounded mildly like some kind of seedy sex shop for men in Anna's opinion, a reminder that her car insurance was coming up for renewal…and a thick, important cream envelope. Her addressed was typed in a flourishing calligraphy. On closer inspection, she realised that it had been posted from France.

That cleared the mystery up. She knew exactly what it was.

Pushing the other letters to one side, she peeled it open and pulled out the contents. She was greeted by a handsome sheet of white card with flowers drawn in some kind of fancy gold pen trailing all the way down the sides like the delicate blooms that always seemed to be found on the sides of quaint cottages. She took in the words.

Mrs. Smith and Mr. and Mrs. Dubois request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their children Catherine Elizabeth Smith and Timeo Federico Dubois on Sunday 14th August 2016, 15:30, at the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, France, followed by a reception at the same venue. Please send your response by Friday 6th May 2016.

Anna grinned, a warm feeling spreading across her chest. There it was, on paper for everyone to see. Her little sister was getting married in just a few months. Since it was gone ten o'clock in the UK, she felt that it was a safe bet that Cat would be up and about in France with the one hour time difference. She picked up her mobile and hit the FaceTime option.

After a few moments, her sister's face materialised in front of her. "Bonjour, ma sœur," she said cheerfully. It appeared that she was sitting outside on her balcony; Anna could hear the distant sounds of traffic rumbling below. Lucky beggar, she thought enviously.

"Look what just arrived," she said, holding up the invitation for her to see.

Cat squealed, her whole face lighting up. "Fantastic! You'd better not be ringing me to tell me that you're not coming."

Anna scoffed. "As if I'd miss it for the world. Besides, Mum would probably kill me if I dared to even think about not getting the time off work."

"Good old Mum," Cat said affectionately. "And don't forget, you'll have to get here at least a week before the wedding so we can have your dress fitting."

That was part of the problem with having a sister who lived in another country entirely; it had made it impossible for her to join in any of the wedding plans. She had been forced to hear all of them second had, had seen the bridesmaid gowns only through the phone's screen. She couldn't help her to pick flowers or to organise the venue, or sort out the hen party. She knew that Cat had a group of friends who were probably relishing getting stuck in to such an event, but she sometimes wished that she could be there to join in.

Although, in reality, it was probably a good thing that she wasn't. It would only make her dream of the kind of wedding day that she would like.

And of the man she would like to marry.

Putting that particular thought to the back of her mind, she asked, "How is Mum, anyway?"

Cat pulled a face. "Oh, she's in her element. I think she fancies herself as a bit of a wedding planner. She's already had a disagreement with Tim's mum about several things, never mind the fact that it's our day. But you know what Tim is like. He'd rather bury his head in the sand when his mum gets going, and she's never had an opponent like Mum before."

Anna snorted. She could well imagine. Their mum had always been a perfectionist. Controlling was a bit of an unfair description, but she certainly liked things just so; Anna could remember the arguments that had erupted when Cat had announced that she wanted to have her belly button pierced, and she had almost had a heart attack when she had discovered that Cat had had a poorly administered tattoo done when she'd been drunk on her eighteenth. That had seen the same row for a solid week. Anna suspected that her mum had never quite got over the shock of it; every time she saw the tattoo now, a cover of butterflies and birds that went all the way down her left bicep, she looked as if she had been personally affronted. Cat had confided once that she thought Mum would probably kill herself if she ever found out that she'd had a second one done from her side all the way down to the top of her thigh. Anna was inclined to agree.

Still, it was nice that Mum had something to throw herself into enthusiastically. And now that she too lived in France, it gave her less time to try and interfere in Anna's own affairs.

Their little family hadn't always been divided by a country. They had all lived quite happily here in Yorkshire until Anna had been twenty-one, when her dad had died in a freak accident at work. It had knocked the stuffing out of the Smith residence. Her dad had been the life and soul, and she had always been a bit of a daddy's girl. Losing him so young, so unexpectedly, had been hard to get over.

It had completely broken their mum. She had wandered round like a lost soul, unable to piece her life back together. Cat had just moved down to Bristol for university, and Anna had just finished her studies, so the majority of the weight had fallen onto her shoulders, though in fairness to her sister, she had come back home to support whenever she could.

Cat had spent the second year of her degree abroad, studying French in the native country, and once she had finished her degree, she decided to move over there full-time. Their mum had been devastated at first but, when she had visited her, had fallen in love with the place in turn. Just like that, she had decided that she too wanted a change of scenery, and she had packed her bags and moved to the same city as her youngest daughter. Anna had opted to stay behind in Yorkshire. She was attached to her home county, had made all of her friends there, had not wished to leave her boyfriend of the time, and enjoyed her work. She saw her mum and sister twice a year now, once in the summer, and for a week over Christmas. They took it in turns to travel, though since Cat had started dating Tim, she had started to go to his parents' for the Christmas that their mum came to Anna.

"Did you like your dress code, anyway?" Cat smirked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Anna frowned. "Dress code? I know what I'm wearing, silly beggar. I have seen pictures of the bridesmaids' dresses, even if I haven't tried one on yet."

"No, I didn't mean that," she drawled. "You've got a special one all of your own. Check the back of your invite."

Confused, Anna turned it over. There was writing there, scrawled in her sister's fair hand.

Dress code: a hot man on your arm.

Anna blinked. "What?"

Cat sighed impatiently. "You're going to have a date for this wedding, Anna. It's my day and I say so."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"If you say so. It doesn't change the facts. Your plus one is going to be a good looking guy. Tim's putting a list together of all his single friends just for the occasion."

"Nice try. You know very well that my plus one is going to be Mary."

"I thought you might say that. So I've worked around it."

"Eh?"

Cat picked a piece of lint from her dress lazily. "I've already sent Mary an invite of her own."

"But…you don't even like Mary that much!"

"Proof of how determined I am that you're going to have some fit bloke strutting about after you. Tim's friend Pierre really wouldn't be a bad choice. He's gorgeous."

"I bet Tim loves hearing you say that."

Cat waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, he knows I'm just doing a bit of harmless window shopping. He's more your type than mine."

"You have no idea what my type is, thank you very much."

"Only because you haven't been on a date in so bloody long. Seriously, when was the last time?"

Anna wasn't falling in to that trap. "None of your business."

"Which is your way of saying 'a very long time ago'. So you are going to spend the whole time getting to know some fine Frenchman."

Anna's heart started to beat faster. No, that was far from what she wanted to happen. Not least because she wasn't interested in some Frenchman called Pierre. She was very much interested in some English-cum-Irish-via-Scotland-man called John.

John Bates, who also happened to be her best friend as well as her love interest, though if Mary knew that she considered John her best friend, she probably wouldn't live to see another day.

Oblivious, Cat was still chatting. "Hey, what if you actually ended up falling for a Frenchman too? That would be so cool! You could come and live over here with us and then we'd all be together again! Maybe you should do a Cilla Black's Blind Date type of thing so you can select the one you think you'll have the most fun with…"

Anna knew that now was the best time to stop Cat before she got into full flow. She was like a whirlwind otherwise.

"I've told you: I'm not spending the week with some man I've never even met before."

"We both know who's going to win in a battle of wills, Anna, so you might as well give it up now."

Before she could stop to think about what she was saying, Anna blurted, "I already have a boyfriend, so if I must be seen with a man, he's the one I'm going to be seen with."

Completely stupefied silence followed her statement. Oh, God. This was never going to end well…

Cat snorted. "Yeah, right. Try pulling the other one."

Well, there was nothing for it now but to continue this stupid line. "It's true!" Anna insisted.

"All right, then, how long have you been seeing him?"

"A few months," she replied promptly.

"So you were seeing him before Christmas?"

"Yes," she said, praying that her confidence wouldn't falter.

"And it never occurred to you that Mum and I might like to know about it?"

"Well, it was still early days," she muttered. "We got together at the end of October."

"What's his name?"

Lord help her, she thought. "John. John Bates."

"And where did you meet him?"

"We work together. I've known him for a couple of years."

"And you've never mentioned him in all that time?"

"I have!" Anna said defensively. "You just probably weren't listening."

"All right, keep your hair on." Cat eyed her shrewdly. "And this is definitely the truth?"

"Yes," she said in agitation.

"All right, I believe you. You can bring him to the wedding. And he'd better be there. I don't want to hear any tales of a mysterious break up only a few days before you're due here. Otherwise you won't be escaping from Pierre."

"Duly noted," said Anna, feeling the apprehension rising up within her.

"Excellent," said Cat. "Well, I've got to dash. Tim and I are going out. Make sure you and Johnny book yourselves some passage over. I expect Mum will want you to stay with her for a week before we go to the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild."

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth.

"See you soon, sis. Tell your Johnny that I'm looking forward to meeting him. I've got a lot of questions to ask him."

Before Anna could say another word, the call ended. She sighed, throwing her phone moodily to one side. That couldn't have gone worse.

And now she somehow had to convince John Bates to play the role of her boyfriend in just a few months' time.


The thought of the lie that she'd started to weave kept her worrying for the rest of the weekend. Several times, she found herself halfway to phoning her sister before she balked. Cat would be merciless, and she really didn't fancy spending a whole ten days being groped by a stranger. She wasn't sure what John's reaction would be when she asked him, but he had always been comfortingly reliable. She doubted he would let her be humiliated if push came to shove.

And, really, how hard would it be? It wasn't as if they'd have to do anything remotely romantic. They wouldn't be sharing a bed at her mum's. Anna had vivid memories of the way that she had policed the times that Cat's ex-boyfriends had stayed over in the past. It wasn't as if they would have to study things about each other. John knew everything there was to know about her, and she liked to think that she knew a lot about him, so they could hardly be caught off-guard with any difficult questions. And there wouldn't be a need to do too much acting. John treated her with respect in a way that she had never known from another man, and that was satisfy her mum. As for the lovey-dovey aspect…she was quite sure that they could get away with doing nothing more incriminating than holding hands if they absolutely had to. Her mum wouldn't want to see them kissing, and while the thought made her stomach flutter pleasantly, as if there was a thousand live butterflies dancing around in there, it wasn't something that was necessary.

It bolstered her slightly. Yes, this was a mad position to be in, but she had faith in John. He wouldn't let her down. They had months to plan for this. Nothing would go wrong.


"You did what!?"

Anna shifted uncomfortably in her chair, passing a napkin over to Mary. Her friend was currently mopping at her chin. She had just spit out the mouthful of liquid that she had been taking in when Anna had revealed the conversation she had had with her sister.

"I said that I already had a boyfriend," she repeated, "and I told her that he was called John."

"John," Mary repeated. "As in, John Bates? Good God, Anna." And she descended into a fit of giggles.

Anna glowered at her. "Stop laughing. It's not funny."

"Oh, come on, it is a bit. John Bates? Of all the men you know, his name was the first one that popped into your head?"

"I panicked," Anna said. She was not about to admit that his name had been the first to pop into her head because she fancied him. That would make her life hell.

"I'll say," said Mary dryly. "Why didn't you say Jimmy? He'd've been up for it."

Anna pulled a face. "Jimmy? Really? I'm at least four years older than him."

"So? Loads of women have toy boys. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yes, but I suspect that Jimmy sees me as more matronly than anything else. I'm always having to pull him up about something."

"He might find you matronly, but I highly doubt he'd turn down the opportunity to spend nearly two weeks pretending to be your plaything. He looks like the kind of boy that would go for a cougar. I bet he'd ask you to spank him."

"Eww, gross!" said Anna, scandalised. "I'm regretting telling you any of this now."

"I'd've found out in August. I got an invite too, remember?"

"Don't be too flattered. It was only to thwart me bringing you as my plus one."

"Oh, well." Mary's face fell slightly at that, and Anna felt a stab of grim satisfaction. There, served her right. Clearly with an effort, her friend pulled herself together. "Well, what did John say?"

"I haven't asked him yet," said Anna. "That's next on my list of things to do. But I'm hoping he'll say yes."

"Well, I think he will. Although you never know with John. He seems to thrive on being morbid and brooding." A frown creased Mary's brow.

"Well, I can't say I'd blame him if he said no. It's not like it's a normal situation. But I've always been able to depend on him before, whatever you might say about him being brooding."

"True," Mary conceded. "And let's face it, he'd be off his rocker not to accept. It's not like he ever gets an offer to spend two weeks pretending to be the boyfriend of a beautiful girl."

Anna had just started to blush at the assessment when she heard a voice behind her ask, "Who never gets an offer to spend two weeks pretending to be the boyfriend of a beautiful girl?"

John.

Shit.

Mary started with over-exaggerated surprise. "John! We didn't see you there! Pull up a pew!"

Anna turned just enough to meet his eye.

"Hi, John," she mumbled.

"Hello," he returned, setting his polystyrene cup of coffee down on the table top and pulling out the seat beside her, hooking his cane over the chair's arm as was customary.

"You're late," Mary said brightly. "You're usually here long before I am."

"I stopped off at the coffee shop for something to drink before I arrived," he said, indicating the takeaway cup in front of him. "I couldn't take more of those awful sachets for a day longer."

"We've got to save money, John," Mary said breezily. "I'm sure Papa has been telling you this until he's blue in the face."

"Yes, but those basic sachets are an insult to everything we do here," said John, lifting his cup and taking a long swig. "Anyway, who were you talking about before I arrived?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," said Mary, smirking. "You men are always saying that gossiping is a woman's vice, so you can jolly well keep your nose out of it."

"I've never said that," John said mildly. "I liked being informed of the office gossip. Anna and I have had many an entertaining hour wondering about Thomas' love life and Mr. Carson's Cheerful Charlies gig."

Anna disappeared behind her cup of horrible coffee as Mary shot her a look. "Oh, Anna shares all this with you, does she? It looks like I'd better be careful what I say if I don't want it getting back to you."

"No, that's quite different," said John cheerfully. "I've known you since you were knee height. The less I know about your private life, the better."

Mary harrumphed, shooting her a sideways glance. "Well, if you want to know what we were just talking about, the funniest thing happened to Anna over the weekend—"

"Aren't you expected somewhere?" Anna interjected.

"No," said Mary.

"Well then, can you give us a minute? I want to talk to John alone."

She knew that Mary was trying to come up with an excuse to stay, but she clearly couldn't find one. Muttering, "Spoilsport," under her breath, she rose and trudged away with all the surliness of a child being denied the most wondrous of treats. John blinked at her retreating back.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

She sighed. "I'm afraid I know."

John cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "What did she mean, that you'd had something funny happen to you over the weekend?"

This was it. Anna took a deep breath. "You know that my sister is getting married this year?"

He nodded. "You've mentioned it. Somewhere in France, yes?"

"Yes, the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, on the French Riviera. Anyway, I received my official invitation at the weekend."

"Well, that's lovely," he said. "I'm not sure where this is going to turn into a funny story."

"It doesn't," she said miserably. "A mortifying one, really. But Mary thinks it's funny."

"So what happened?" he asked, frowning.

Anna wet her dry lips. "Well, she, um…she insisted that I spend the time with a man."

For the second time that morning, she watched someone choke on their drink. She reached out and slapped John hard on the back as he spluttered. It was almost a full minute before he recovered.

"She, um, said that, did she?" he croaked when he had re-found his faculties.

"Cat's idea of a joke," Anna said grimly. "She loves to see me squirm, and she thinks that I've spent quite enough time alone."

"And is that how you feel?" he prompted tentatively. "I mean, I've known you for two years now, and you've never…"

He tailed off, as if he wasn't quite sure that he should finish the thought. Not that he needed to; Anna was well aware of what he was going to say. That she hadn't had a boyfriend as long as he'd known her. That she hadn't even had a date as far as he knew. Which was a little inaccurate: she'd had a couple of dates, a few months after they'd first been introduced, but she'd already started to fancy him and it hadn't felt right, going out to dinner with another man when he wasn't the one she wanted. Wasn't fair to any party involved. It had been so insignificant and short-lived that she hadn't bothered to tell him, and she didn't fancy going into the details right now.

"There was no one who felt right," she said quickly, hoping that would encompass more than she desired to say. "And I've always handled being on my own better than Cat has."

"So what happened?" John asked.

"Well, she told me that she was already lining up a selection of men for me to meet," she said. "And obviously I really didn't want that. So I sort of…told her I already had a boyfriend."

John snorted. "I bet that went down well."

"It could have been worse. Believe me, it'll be a thousand times harder when Mum finds out. Which will be any day now because Cat has never been able to keep a juicy secret to herself." It was how Mum had prematurely found out about her first boyfriend; Cat had come across them kissing outside the school gates, and had rushed home to tell her. That had been one of the most uncomfortable evenings of her life. She dreaded what it would be like when her mum realised that she had been 'dating' someone at Christmas and had never been told a thing.

"She believed you, then?" said John as he fished a chocolate biscuit from the open packet left on the table in front of them.

Anna nodded. "I managed to convince her. The only problem is, he'll be expected at the wedding now."

"Break up with him before you get there," John suggested. "I've seen some of your acting talents when you've foiled Thomas and Sarah's scheming. You could win an Oscar. Acting the part of the heartbroken, jilted girlfriend should be no problem for you."

"Apart from the fact that there's a big one," she said. "Cat's already thwarted me in that respect. Says that she expects him to be there or she'll set the Frenchmen on me."

"Why don't you just tell her that you're not interested?"

"Easier said than done. She's like a dog with a bone. She might be in a different country, but she likes to be a pain in the side."

"So what are you going to do?"

"The only thing I can. Take a man with me."

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard," he said encouragingly. "You're kind, and funny, and caring, and generous…and you're beautiful too. Any man alive would be blessed to call you their girlfriend. And I'm certain that once you start looking, you'll find the queue outside the door."

He cleared his throat when he'd finished, as if he'd said too much for his stoic nature to allow, but Anna's heart leapt. He thought her beautiful. He'd never said that before. Oh, she'd hoped that he might, had read a thousand different things in his eyes over the course of their friendship, but she had never been certain enough to risk taking a leap. Perhaps…perhaps this could be the start of it…

"I can only take one person with me," she said.

He chuckled. "Well, I was hardly expecting you to take a harem across the continent."

"No, you misunderstand me. When she asked me, I panicked and gave her the name of someone I know. He's the only person that I can take with me."

"Right," said John, looking a little nonplussed. "So go and ask him, then."

Anna took a deep breath. "I am."

It seemed to take several seconds for her words to register. But when Anna stared unblinkingly at him waiting for the penny to drop, realisation dawned across the part of his face that she could see…and he promptly choked on his second mouthful of coffee.

She was going to start banning people from drinking when she was talking to them, she thought resentfully as she slapped him on the back again.

John's eyes watered as he said, "You…you can't mean…?"

"You," Anna confirmed. "Yes, that's right. Your name was the first that popped into my head, so I told her that I was dating you."

"Christ," he said. "What on earth possessed you?"

"I told you, I completely panicked. You'll help me, won't you?"

"How can I do that? Everyone here is going to suspect something. You know what they're like. The moment they get the merest whiff of gossip, they're like bloodhounds. It'll be all round the company in two seconds flat."

"You hardly have to tell them that you're going away with me."

"Won't need to, will I? There will be pictures plastered all over Mary's Instagram in seconds. You know how she loves social media."

Anna pursed her lips. That was true. She'd never thought of that, and she could hardly police every photo put online by other people at the wedding. He was bound to be caught, even if it was only in the background.

"Then I'd have to say that you were doing me a favour," she said slowly. "Or I could just say that I invited you to keep me company. It's not like no one knows that we're friends."

"People won't want to believe that," he said. "The potential other gossip is much juicier. But I don't want them to say those things about you. About us. I don't want people looking at you and whispering, wondering what you're doing dating someone like me. Fake or not, you know that's what people would say."

"I don't give a fig what people say," she retorted fiercely. "And they're all idiots if they think that. I know you like to think that you're a lost cause, but any woman would be lucky to call you their boyfriend. You've got all the qualities we love."

"And here was me thinking all you really wanted was a bloke with a bad boy streak."

"That's boring. I don't want to spend my life chasing around after someone. I want someone romantic who wants to bring me flowers and read me poetry and spend their time with me…hey, stop laughing!"

"I'm not," said John, but there was a funny look on his face nevertheless.

She sighed. "Look, please, John. Please do this for me. You know I would never ask you under ordinary circumstances, but you're the only one I know who can help me."

"Anna, I would love to help. You know I would. But I'm not sure that you've thought this through."

"If your only problem is people at work talking…" she argued.

"It's not. I'm concerned about what your mum will say. Not for myself, that doesn't matter. But for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He gestured himself. "Well, look. I'm hardly boyfriend material. I'm fifteen years older than you, I've already had one disaster of a marriage, and I'm sure that the last person your mum is expecting to see walk through those doors in August is a man like me. I don't want it to cause a rift between you."

"Mum's got to accept my choice of life partner one day."

"But that's not going to be me, is it?"

The ringing sense of finality in John's voice made her shrink back in her seat, at a loss for words. He didn't see them as a potential couple. She was a friend to him, nothing more. She'd always thought that somewhere, deep down, there might be a chance, but that was one fatal blow that she didn't think she could recover from. Tears sprang unbidden, and she blinked furiously. She couldn't let him see her cry—

"Oh, please don't cry," he said, alarmed; she realised that he must have misinterpreted her tears. He reached out and enclosed her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. "Look, if it means that much to you, of course I'll help you. I just want to make sure that you've fully considered all of the ramifications of this."

"They're for me to deal with, not you," she said. Even feeling the warm weight of his hand against hers could do nothing to assuage the hard ball that had knotted itself in her stomach. She pulled her hand away and stood. Right now, she needed some distance. But she couldn't appear rude, either. So she muttered a thank you and made up an excuse about needing to get into the office to carry on with her latest project.

"Of course," said John, a light frown on his face. "I'll see you later?"

She nodded, then turned to go. She could feel his eyes burning into her all the way across the staffroom, but she did not look back.

It's never going to be me, is it?

He had agreed to her plan. But, she thought miserably, it couldn't have happened in a more disheartening fashion.


Anna had thought that time might go slow, but it seemed to go by at an alarming pace. April, May, June, July…all raced by in the blink of an eye.

In that time, she and John spoke little of the favour that she had asked of him. It seemed to her that he was trying to forget about it. The nearest they got to discussing it was the day that John told her that he had been granted the leave he had asked for, but he had commented no further than that, and she had been too cowardly to engage him. If anyone else mentioned Cat's wedding in his presence, he swiftly changed the subject. Sometimes, Anna wondered just how they were going to make this work if he was so determined to pretend that it didn't exist.

But he hadn't backed out on her. That was the most reassuring thing she could find to say about it. And, really, it hadn't changed the way that they always were together. They still laughed and joked, still spent time together out of work.

Anna still had the butterflies in her stomach whenever he looked at her that certain way, still felt that there was something that she wasn't quite grasping, like a word in a foreign language that would aid a difficult translation.

She just hoped that the wedding wouldn't place too much strain on a good quality friendship.


August 2016

"Are you all packed?" Anna asked him the week before they were due to fly out.

John grimaced. "Nearly. I thought I'd start early so I know I won't forget anything." He lowered his voice, glancing around. "Is there anything that I should know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your mum and sister are probably going to interrogate me. Have you told them anything in the last few months that I ought to know?"

She shook her head. "No, I thought it best to keep it simple. I've told her everything she wanted to know about our friendship, but with the added implication of it being a relationship."

"Right," he said, looking queasy. "Well, at least I won't be caught out."

He was nervous. She couldn't blame him, really. After all, they were hardly conventional circumstances to be meeting her family under. She could put herself in his shoes. If that was her, she'd be terrified.

Before she could say anything else to reassure him, they were interrupted by Mary, who threw herself down into the seat beside them as if she was an actress performing her swansong scene on stage. Overdramatic didn't even begin to cover it, and Anna found herself hiding a smile behind her hand.

"What's wrong?" asked John. She noticed that he had to busy himself with sugaring his drink to mask a grin of his own.

"Everything is a disaster!" Mary groaned.

"Has something gone wrong with the Anstruther deal?" asked Anna, suddenly concerned. They had been toing and froing with that for weeks; if it fell through now, at the final hurdle…

But Mary shook her head. "No, it's worse than that."

Worse? Anna frowned, racking her brains for what else could have possibly gone horrifically wrong.

"Well, spill the beans," John said impatiently. "If it's something to do with the business, we'll need to know as soon as possible so we can try to put it right."

"It's nothing to do with the business. It's your sister's wedding, Anna."

Anna had a sudden, horrible vision that her mum and sister had found out that she'd been lying to them about John all along. Or could it have been called off? No, that was silly. She'd have heard something from them herself.

"Come on, stop keeping us in the dark," she said.

For a moment, Mary seemed to wrestle with herself. And then it all came pouring out.

"My life is over! I have reached the most shameful stage in my life. I'm taking my papa as a plus one to your sister's wedding!"

Anna certainly hadn't been expecting that. "Is that really so bad?"

Mary groaned. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Why are you taking him, then?" asked John. "If it's causing you so much pain, why ask him at all?"

"Because there's no one else!" she cried. "Matthew was supposed to be coming with me, but he's got called into the office on an urgent case and he can't get away."

"Well, what about your mama?" Anna suggested.

"Flying out to America tonight. Grandmama is ill, and she wants to be there with her. Not that there's anything really wrong. She's as dramatic as if she was an actress on Broadway."

Probably where Mary got her flair for the dramatics from too, Anna thought, but did not dare voice it.

"I can't take Granny," Mary continued without prompting, "because while the fact that it's such a high end establishment would be right up her street, the fact that it's in France is an absolute no-no. She hates anything foreign. She won't leave the country these days."

"And your sisters?" said John.

"Sybil's on some tour round Ireland with this new friend of hers, Tom Branson. And I can't even stomach the thought of being trapped with Edith, never mind it actually being a reality. I'd have killed her by the end of it, and I'd rather not have to go to prison."

Which was rather uncharitable to Edith, Anna thought. She was very different to Mary, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"So, you see, Papa really is my only option. And he's insufferable already. We weren't supposed to be arriving until the night before the wedding, but he's insisting that we fly out with you so that he can play the tourist for a week. Mind you, it'll be nice for you, John. You can be boring old men together."

John recoiled.

"That's enough, Mary," Anna said sharply. "John isn't old or boring. Don't be nasty just because things aren't going your way. Besides, you won't be seeing anything of us before the wedding. We'll be with my family."

Mary looked very much like she wanted to argue, but Anna glowered at her. It was probably things like that that made John shy away from any tiny thought in his head that might connect him to her. He had been crippled by self-loathing and self-doubts more than his actual leg during his time working here with them, and comments like that would never help him. Or them.

Sensing that she wasn't going to get any more sympathy, Mary stood.

"Anyway, I've things to do," she said, more coolly than she would usually. "I'll see you later."

Anna grunted in reply.

"You didn't need to say that," said John when she'd gone.

"Yes, I did," she said forcefully. "She thinks she's untouchable, and normally she is, but it doesn't give her the right to say those things to people who haven't done anything to her."

"She has a point."

"No, she doesn't," Anna said stubbornly. "I don't think you're old or boring, not in the slightest. And my opinion counts for more because I think the world of you, so there."

He blinked. "You…think the world of me?"

"Of course I do," she replied, determined not to meet his eye. She could feel her cheeks heating, knew she had said more than was strictly sensible, but she couldn't have him thinking himself unworthy. And if a seed so happened to be planted…

"Right, well, that's nice to hear," he said lightly. "Now, um, should we get going? We've got that meeting with Mr. Carson soon."

"Yes," she said, finishing off her lunch.

And though the meeting was dull, Anna couldn't help but notice one thing, something that she just about dared to credit herself with:

John didn't stop smiling throughout.


And then, out of nowhere, it was time to go. Robert had insisted on making the travel arrangements, fancying himself a bit of a connoisseur, and Anna was happy to let him. They would be flying late at night after work from Leeds-Bradford to Paris. Once there, they would spend a night in a hotel so that she and John weren't descending on her family in the early hours. Robert and Mary would be staying too. They would split the following morning, for Robert had mapped out places that he wanted to visit on their journey to the Riviera. He seemed to think that he was going on a hitch-hiking adventure.

It all sounded simple enough. Anna just hoped that it all went smoothly, because she was quite sure her shot nerves wouldn't be able to take it otherwise. The depth of her lies kept looming up in front of her, and she'd started having nightmares about them; she'd woken in a sweat every day that week with a different scenario of how she might be found out. She hated lying, and the guilt was gnawing at her.

But it was for a good cause, she told herself as bracingly as she could. It was a one-off, just to keep her family's exuberance at bay. There was no harm in that, was there? And, really, it was a perfect excuse to spend some quality time with John. Maybe, just maybe, she could probe a little, see if he could have feelings for her somewhere in there…

It did little to settle her stomach, but she soldiered on like a weathered warrior.


"Anna? Anna, wake up. We're landing in about five minutes."

John's voice was low and soothing in her ear, and she stirred, blinking groggily as she came back to her surroundings. They were on the late flight out to Paris, and their charade was about to begin. John looked green and ghostly in the faint plane lights, but he managed a smile for her benefit.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she said, pushing her hair away from her face.

He chuckled. "It's quite all right. I thought I'd bored you with my talk on this book, so I don't blame you."

"You could never bore me," she said. "It's just…well, I haven't had much sleep over the last few days, and today has been so busy, I must have just completely wiped out."

"I was only joking," he reassured her. "I know the feeling. I'll be glad to get into bed tonight. I just can't sleep on planes. Not enough leg room."

He did look rather odd, squashed into his seat as he was. He was a big man. She probably should have taken over the booking from Robert. He was a man, and he wasn't likely to give much thought to extra leg room seats. But he had been so eager to please, and she had hated to interfere…

At last, the plane landed on the runway with a slight bump. It was several more minutes before the pilot announced that they could disembark. All at once, there was a scuffling as people rose from their seats and collected their hand luggage. John pulled out hers and handed it to her, shouldering his own. He grasped his cane tight in the other hand and led her down into the arrivals' lounge. Mary and Robert were already waiting for them; they had been seated a little further back on the plane. After grabbing their luggage from the conveyor, they moved towards the airport's exit, bursting out into the clear, warm air. A row of taxis was already waiting. They joined the back of the queue of tourists who were waiting to take one, and eventually reached the front. Anna and Mary slipped into the backseat while the men loaded the luggage into the boot. Then Robert moved to take the front passenger seat, leaving John to squeeze himself into the back. Anna had taken the middle seat, being the smallest out of all three of them, and she thrilled at the sensation of John being squashed in so tightly beside her. His large bulk was a huge comfort. Robert rattled off the hotel's address, and they set off.

Thankfully the hotel wasn't too far away, and soon they were all piling into the front doors, blinking in the bright lights. A bored looking woman sat behind the reception desk. She straightened up when she saw them.

"Bonjour," she said.

"Bonjour!" Robert responded cheerfully. "Je m'appelle Robert Crawley." That seemed to be the extent of his French, for he reverted back to English. "We have two rooms booked under that name."

The woman clattered around on the computer. To Anna, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time to locate the information. Eventually, she looked up, shrugged, and said, "Nothing here, Monsieur Crawley."

Robert gave a pompous laugh. "I don't think you've checked properly. Have another gander, will you? I definitely booked it a couple of weeks ago."

The woman gave him a look of dislike, and did as he requested. Anna was quite sure that if she didn't value her employment so much, she would have told Robert what to do with his supposed booking. She clacked the keys with a hyperbolic slowness, then said in an equally slow voice, as if she believed that he couldn't understand his native language, "No booking for Crawley here."

John ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Rob, are you sure you made the booking?"

"Of course I did!" he snapped. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I clicked on the 'complete booking' button on the website!"

"And?"

"And what? I closed it down, of course! I'd made the booking!"

John said a word that Anna had never heard him use before. "That's not what it means! You've still got to add your card details to pay for the room!"

Robert's brow creased in faint puzzlement. "Have you?"

"Yes! That's the whole point! No wonder you always get your bloody secretary to book your business trips! I suppose she booked the plane? You couldn't have managed that on your own. You're hopeless!"

"Hopeless is a bit strong!" Robert said indignantly, but John had already turned away.

"I'm so sorry about my friend," he said. "He's the one who made the mistake. I don't suppose you do have any rooms left for us, do you? We just need them for a night."

The woman was more receptive to John's attitude; she clicked a few more keys and said, "We have two spare rooms. A double and a single."

"Not two doubles?" John said desperately.

"No. And we won't let two people into the single. Health and safety, you know?"

"Well, what can we do? Would you…would you perhaps permit one of us to stay down here in the reception lobby for the night? I know it might still be a healthy and safety issue, but you could keep an eye on us so you know we're not up to no good."

The woman debated this for a moment before saying, "All right. But you must go at first light, before my manager arrives, or I will be in trouble."

"Deal," said John. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver. How much for the rooms?"

She rattled off the price and John pulled out his company credit card. She handed the keys over and he led them a little away from the desk.

"Smooth operator," Anna teased.

He grinned bashfully at her, handing over one of the keys. "Well, here you go, ladies."

"Oh, no, I'm not sharing!" Mary said at once.

They all turned to look at her.

"Why not?" said John, frowning. "That makes the most sense. You and Anna take the double, and I'll take the single." He shot a sideways look at Robert. "No offence, but this is your balls up. You can be the one to suffer on the sofas here all night."

"That's hardly fair! We ought to settle this like a proper democracy, with a vote."

"I've got a bad knee, mate," John reminded him. "I can hardly spend all night on a cramped settee. It would be murder for me. You wouldn't want me to be too sore to walk in the morning, would you?"

"I call bull! You're always trying to prove to me that it's not a bother to you!"

"I've got to be sensible sometimes."

"You're just guilt tripping me because you jumped in front of that bloody bullet!"

"Which still pains me today," John lamented. Anna swallowed a snort of laughter as he rubbed his right leg for greater effect. Yes, he was certainly a smooth operator. "But anyway, that's not the issue right now. Mary, just share with Anna!"

"No," she repeated stubbornly. "I like to have my own space."

"You share a house with me," Anna pointed out.

"Yes, a house! Not a pokey little bedroom! Why not share with John?"

"Because I am a man and she is a woman," he said. "It wouldn't feel right."

"I don't see why not. It's no different from two women platonically sharing. Besides," her eyes narrowed, "you've got to act as if you're boyfriend and girlfriend from tomorrow. No time like the present to start the ruse. It'll give you a bit of practice."

"Wait, what?" said Robert, his eyes as round as two penny pieces. "John and Anna are doing what?"

"Hasn't John told you?" Mary said casually. "That's the reason why he's here as Anna's plus one. She told her family that she was dating him."

"You told your family that you were dating him?" Robert echoed, looking both stunned and gleeful. "Why didn't you tell me this? How were you hoping to keep it a secret?"

"I was looking for the right moment," John muttered, avoiding everyone's gazes. "I'd've told you before we got to the wedding because I wouldn't want you to give the game away."

"He was trying to avoid telling me early so he could get away with not having the mick taken out of him," said Robert, perhaps a little too sagely. "That's a foolish hope."

"Look, can we just sort out these sleeping arrangements?" said John through gritted teeth. "Mary, please just share with Anna!"

"No," she repeated stubbornly. "I'm having the room to myself." Without waiting another moment, she swiped the key out of John's loose grip and stalked away.

"Hey!" Anna cried indignantly. "Mary, get back here!"

Mary did not look back, disappearing into the lifts.

Anna turned to John. "Well, I guess that does leave us sharing the double room…unless you and Robert want to take it and I'll stay here for the night?"

"Absolutely not," said John at once. "Robert is staying here."

"You're a real friend," Robert scowled. John ignored him. He looked nervous.

"Look, if you'd rather us both stay down here…"

"I don't think the reception lady would like it," she pointed out. "She's already reluctant to let one of us stay down here. I don't mind sharing with you, John. I trust you."

He cleared his throat, the colour rising in his cheeks a little. "Right. Okay then. Yes. We'll share." He turned back to Robert. "We'll be back down here at seven so we can go and grab some breakfast. Have a good night."

"Fat chance of that," muttered Robert, glaring in resignation at the scratchy-looking sofas. John turned to her.

"Well, let's go then," he said, his voice wavering slightly. Nodding, she picked up her case and followed him into the lift.

"The key says we're on the second floor," she said, hoping her own voice sounded normal.

"Right."

They rode up in silence, and Anna led the way down the narrow corridor to their room. The key stuck a little in the lock. She hoped that it wasn't going to be a grimy place—hotels near the airports weren't always the cleanest back in England—but she was pleasantly surprised by the warm ambience of the room. She fumbled for the light switch and was met with cheery purple décor and gleaming light wood. It wasn't exactly luxury, but it was welcoming. She moved further into the room, trying not to let her gaze dart to the bed, which dominated the space. John shadowed her steps, resting his cane against the wall.

"How are we going to play this?" he asked. "I can sleep on the floor. Or I can take the chair in the corner. I really don't mind."

"Nonsense," she found herself saying. "The bed is plenty big enough for the both of us. Why, are you afraid that the romantic Parisian air will make me lose my head and jump on you?"

"No, no!" he stumbled, growing redder. "I just…are you sure?"

"I have shared a bed before," she said lightly, heaving her case onto the bed and unfastening it, rifling through it for a pair of pyjamas.

"Of course you have," said John, and there was something distinctly strange about his tone. She looked over at him, but he had turned away to ferret through his own case. A little disconcerted, she found what she was looking for and stretched.

"I'll go into the bathroom first, if that's okay?" she said.

"Sure," he said. "Can I just request that I have the side of the bed nearest the door? I have to lie on my left side so that I don't put too much pressure on my knee."

"Yes, that's fine," she said. She knew that he'd chosen that side deliberately. He obviously didn't want to find himself in a situation where he might have to look at her face. Well, it suited her well enough. She wasn't sure that she could handle trying to get to sleep in the knowledge that he might be studying her features.

With that, she went through to the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, and went to the loo. She filled up one of the glasses in the bathroom with provided bottled water before going back through to the bedroom.

"All yours," she told him.

John had grabbed his own kitbag and shot her a small smile. "Thanks." With that, he limped out of the room. It left her free to snuggle down in the bed and turn off the lamp over on her side.

John joined her ten minutes later. He was wearing a pair of black boxers and a t-shirt. Anna found that she couldn't take her eyes away from him. Damn him, he looked gorgeous. She had fantasised about seeing him undressed many times, but she could never have conjured up how strong and firm his legs looked under his trousers. She hadn't realised that she'd got a thing for legs until that very moment. The muscled thighs, covered in thick, dark hair, were one of the most erotic sights she had ever seen.

Apparently misreading her, he said, "I'm sorry, I don't have any pyjamas. I don't sleep in them in summer, and I never thought that a situation like this might arise. I know the knee looks a bloody sight."

In truth, Anna had barely registered the knee. Irresistibly, her eyes were drawn to it now, and she thinned her mouth. It was true, it was a mess, criss-crossed in thick, ugly scars that only made him more beautiful to her for what they represented.

"I didn't even notice," she said truthfully.

John snorted, peeling back the covers and edging in beside her. "That's kind of you to say. Vera certainly noticed it. She loathed the way it looked. Wouldn't even go near me."

"Vera is an idiot," said Anna. "Can we please not talk about her?"

His ex-wife was a sore point. Anna knew that their marriage had been far from a happy one, which was why it had ended in such an acrimonious divorce, but she had never been quite able to get over the one and only meeting she had had with the other woman in John's life. It had been unexpected: Vera must have seen them out in the street together, and she had tracked her down to tell her that John would never look at her the way that he'd looked at her, Vera, and that she was the only one who would ever be able to give him what he wanted and craved. Anna had refused to play into Vera's hands and had sent her packing with a few choice words of her own, but the meeting had unsettled her nevertheless. She had never breathed a word of it to John. She couldn't believe that Vera hadn't twisted the knife with him, but if Vera had ever mentioned their meeting, then John had never let on that he knew about it.

She knew that John had deeply resented Vera by the end, but it still niggled at her to know that he had impulsively married her—a fact related by Mary, not John—but stayed determinedly cautious nowadays. She could not be more different to Vera. He ought to know that she would never hurt him in that way. And yet there had never been a moment when there this strangely charged friendship could have tipped over into something more.

Or maybe she was being ungenerous. It wasn't really his fault if she felt something that he didn't. If she was brave enough to just come out and ask him…but then, what would happen if it ruined their friendship?

It was a pointless and vicious circle she had walked many times.

Sighing, Anna punched her pillow and settled down as comfortably as she could. She did not dare look around, but she felt John's heavy weight dipping the cheap mattress, sensed his heavy warmth. That was one thing. She wouldn't be cold tonight.

"Goodnight," said John.

"Goodnight," she echoed.

Neither of them spoke again after that, but it took a long time until John finally started to snore. Anna remained ramrod still, hardly daring to move, staring sightlessly into the darkness, hyper aware of him there in the bed beside her. Eventually, curiosity won out, and she turned her head just enough so that she could peer at him through the darkness.

Despite the fact that he was right on the edge of the bed, he took up a great deal of space. His back was broad, made more so by the way that he curled up on himself. Anna fancied that she could see the muscles in his back and the intimate skin of his neck that she was far too short to look at under normal circumstances. It was all stupid fantasy, of course. He was right there, but he was no closer than he ever had been.

He snorted in his sleep, and she startled, flying back over to lie on her side. He didn't seem to awaken, resuming his snoring, but she didn't dare turn again.

She didn't think she'd sleep, but, eventually, exhaustion won out.


An alarm sounded at six. Anna jolted back awake at once, blinking blearily into the darkness. For a moment, it didn't register where she was.

And then John shifted beside her, and she was reminded full-force that she had just spent the night sharing a bed with him.

"Sorry," he said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. "I thought I'd better set it early so we can take a shower. I'll go first. You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want."

She grunted in reply, burying her head in the pillow. She had never been a morning person, and she felt like she had only been asleep for a minute before the alarm had sounded.

Before she could wake up enough to appreciate the position that they were still in, John jumped out of bed, gathered some things from his case, and disappeared into the shower. She heard the water running and idly imagined it trickling over his body for a moment before forcing her mind away. Those were unhelpful thoughts. Instead, she rolled over onto her other side, moving into the warm space that John had just vacated. She buried her nose into his pillow, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin. God, he smelled amazing. She could lie here all day.

Something which she wasn't permitted to do, unfortunately. When she heard the shower switch off, she moved reluctantly back to her side of the bed. It wouldn't do for him to catch her sniffing at his pillow like some crazed teenage girl. A few minutes later, he reappeared. He was already dressed. Damn. She'd hoped that he might come out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The only evidence that he'd showered at all was his hair, which was plastered to his head. Dark spots had appeared on his shirt where it had dripped.

"All yours," he said, pulling his towel over his head to scrub his hair.

"Thanks," she said, sliding out of bed. She too grabbed her necessities and headed into the bathroom.

The floor was wet and the mirror was steamed, but she picked her way carefully around the mess and hung her clean clothes over the radiator to keep them out of the way. After she'd finished showering, she wiped a part of the mirror so she could see to clean her teeth, then dressed in her clothes. She went back to the bedroom so she could fix her hair and makeup. John was sitting in the chair, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"How do you reckon Rob got on last night?" he asked.

"Well, it can't have been very comfortable on those settees."

"No. I can't believe he was stupid enough not to book the rooms right. I wonder why Mary was being so difficult?"

Anna shrugged. "I'm not sure. But we managed, didn't we?"

"Oh, of course we did!" John said hurriedly. "Anyway, I might go ahead of you and see how Robert is. Maybe we can swap places so he can come and freshen up. Would that be all right?"

"Yes, that's fine," said Anna. "I'll meet you down there in a bit?"

He nodded and, grabbing his cane and newly packed case, limped from the room.


By ten past seven, they were all congregated out on the street with their cases in tow. Paris was coming to life around them, with early morning commuters heading to work. Between them, they decided that it was impractical to traipse into a café with their luggage in tow, so John and Anna volunteered to go and fetch them some provisions while Mary and Robert stayed behind. They enjoyed a breakfast of croissants and coffee on a bench.

"So, have you definitely booked yourselves into a hotel tonight?" John asked as he brushed the crumbs from his jeans.

"Yes," said Robert, though he didn't look at all convinced.

"I'm going to telephone ahead to double check all the places he's said he's booked," said Mary with a disgruntled look. "In fact, I might start now. Anna, can I borrow you?"

"Borrow me?" Anna said in surprise. What could she do to help?

"You're not getting picked up until half ten," Mary pointed out. "It's not like you're in danger of running out of time. Come on."

She practically dragged her further away, out of the line of sight of the two men. As soon as they were round the corner, she stopped, fixing her with a look.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well what?" said Anna, mystified by her friend's peculiar behaviour and not really in the mood for it after her antics of the previous evening.

"What happened between you and John!?" said Mary.

"What do you mean, what happened? Nothing, of course! We shared the bed. John did want to sleep on the floor, but I convinced him otherwise."

"Oh, you idiots," Mary sighed.

"I'm not an idiot," said Anna heatedly. "And now that you mention it, I want to have a word with you about your behaviour yesterday. What was all that dramatic refusal to share the room with me about!?"

"I thought you would have worked that one out."

"Sorry, I didn't."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I was trying to help you, of course."

"I see," said Anna sarcastically. "Well, that makes everything clearer. Thanks."

"No need to take that tone with me. Look, I thought that if you and John were forced to share a room, it might spark something. You know, being forced to share a bed, your bodies touching…"

"Our bodies were nowhere near touching. You could've fit a third person between us. And I still don't understand why you were doing it. You know this is only a pretend game for the benefit of my family."

"But it's not!" Mary said triumphantly. "Do you really think I'm so stupid, Anna? I'm not my papa. I'm not about to swallow any story you give me. I know you've never admitted it before, but it's obvious. You fancy John. There's no other explanation for it."

"There are plenty of explanations if you cared to look further," said Anna, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks anyway. Bloody fantastic. She'd been hoping to avoid that situation with her friend.

"I don't care to look further. How long have I known you now? And you've barely ever shown an interest in a man before. Even when you were with Callum, you weren't even half as enthusiastic as you are when you're around John, and you've not got past the friend stage yet. You never really talked about Callum, but I can't get you to shut up about John. You've practically got hearts in your eyes. And don't even get me started on the way you lean over his desk at work. I've seen you. Your breasts are basically in his face."

And yet he didn't even look at them, Anna grumbled internally, but felt it best not to mention this titbit to her friend. "If you knew, why did you make such a fuss about it when I told you?"

"Because it is still John. The John I've known from being a child. My papa's best friend. I'm never going to understand your tastes. I might one day find it in me not to tease you senseless, but I don't see that day any time soon."

Thanks a lot," Anna grumbled. "And now a word of advice from me: next time you think you've got a masterplan to orchestrate something between John and me, think again and don't execute it. You're rubbish."

Mary coughed. "Well, now you say that…"

"Oh, God, what's that supposed to mean!?" she squeaked.

"I do have a little something for you," said Mary. "It's in my case. Here, I'll get it for you. But you mustn't open it just yet. Wait until you're completely alone before you have a look. You'll regret it otherwise."

"God, what is it!?" Anna said fearfully, jogging along behind her friend. "I mean it, Mary, I'll bloody swing for you…!"

The threat didn't seem to both Mary in the slightest; after ordering her father out of the way and opening her case right there on the bench, she rummaged around and brought out a plain paper bag.

Robert stared. "What on earth is that?"

"Never you mind," said Mary. "It's for Anna, not for you."

"What is it, Anna?"

"No idea," she said, snatching at the bag and stuffing it into her pocket; whatever was inside felt like a box.

"Let's see," said John, not taking his eyes from her pocket.

"Not a chance," she replied. "It's private."

"Women's stuff," said Mary helpfully. "Anna's started her period, and she forgot to pack some essentials. I'm giving her some until she can get to the shops."

Robert recoiled, blanching. John said, "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed about. We'll drop the subject now. So, did Robert book the hotel?"

"I haven't checked yet."

John frowned. "But isn't that what you went over there to find out…?"

"Oh, be quiet, Bates. Stop interfering. I'm going to do it now. Papa, you'd better come. If you haven't made the bookings then we're going to need your card…"

Robert gave them a helpless look as he was dragged away.

"See you in a week!" John called after their retreating backs. He turned back to Anna. "What do you fancy doing until we get picked up?"

"I don't know," she said. "As long as we're inside and I'm away from Mary, I'm up for anything."

John laughed.


Half past ten seemed to be crawling towards them like some gruesome entity from a horror film. Every time Anna glanced at John, she saw that he had got progressively paler. By twenty past, his skin had taken on a decidedly green hue. She reached out and touched his arm.

"It's going to be okay," she said, more confidently than she felt. In truth, she had some reservations of her own. But she would have to trust her family to be polite, at least to John's face. It wouldn't be fair to make him feel ill at ease, and her mum hated giving the impression that she was less than a forgiving member of society, even if it wasn't always the case.

The last ten minutes trickled by. Anna watched the pendulum of the nearby clock swing like the hangman's noose.

A car pulled up. Anna stiffened at once.

"They're here," she said.

But only Tim jumped out, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Annie," he said, kissing her enthusiastically on both cheeks. "It is so good to see you again! And you must be John?" He turned to him with a curious look.

"Yes," said John, hooking his cane over his left arm and extending his right hand. "John Bates. Pleased to meet you."

"Timeo Dubois."

Anna reached up to kiss Tim on the cheek. "How are you? Feeling well? My sister not driving you too mad?"

"I would not say even if she was," said Tim dryly. "Can I take your luggage?"

John helped him stash it in the boot of the car, then took the passenger seat while Anna slid into the back. She buckled herself in and leaned back with a sigh. It had been a very early start this morning, and she had no doubt that there would be no let up for the foreseeable future. Her mum and Cat would be determined to grill her over every single aspect of her relationship with John.

"So, Cat tells me that you met at work?" said Tim as he pulled back into traffic. "That is very nice. It is where Cat and I met also."

"I see," said John awkwardly. Anna resisted the urge to smack her own forehead. She'd been a bit short-sighted not to tell John anything about Cat and Tim. She'd been so focused on ensuring that her family would find that their experiences matched up that she'd completely forgotten to give more background information on them. They would expect him to know certain things by now, things that would feasibly have been dropped into casual conversation. John knew a little about her family life, but he certainly didn't know the ins and outs of her sister's relationship. She leaned forward in her seat quickly.

"Has Mum driven you up the wall yet?" she asked desperately. "I know what she can be like when she has the bit between her teeth."

"I am saying nothing," said Tim. "She is no more fearsome than ma mère. You have yet to meet her, but you will see what I mean." He threw an amused look John's way. "Whatever you do, do not let her hear you calling me Tim. It is always Timeo in her company."

"She thinks Tim is too common," interjected Anna. "She calls my sister Catherine."

"How your sister laments it, Annie," said Tim. "She so hates her name."

They drove largely in silence. Tim seemed to understand that they had had a very tiring couple of days, and he was more than content to let them be. Anna was grateful for that. It meant that John couldn't find himself in a sticky situation without her help in getting him out of it, and it also meant that he could adjust to Tim's manner. She knew that he was not always entirely comfortable when meeting new people and Tim, as lovely as he was, could sometimes be a little intense. It was probably how he had met his match in Cat.

It took them almost an hour to reach their destination. Their journey took them out of the bustling heart of the city to one of the quieter districts, lined with pretty houses. Anna felt her heart lurch with excitement despite her apprehension. She did miss her family, and the promise of seeing them again filled her with joy.

They pulled up outside the house on the end row of a quaint little street. Tim threw the car into neutral and switched off the ignition. Before Anna could grope for the door handle, John had beaten her to it, opening it for her and standing back to let her out. Always such a gentleman.

"Thank you, love," she said, the endearment rolling off her tongue like honey.

"I'm surprised your mum isn't waiting outside," said Tim as he opened the boot.

"I'm not. She doesn't want to look too eager."

"Yes, but Cat doesn't care about those things. She always wants to know everything first. Anyway, I'll just take your cases in and head off. I have to get back to work." He held out his hand again. "It was very nice to meet you, John."

"Likewise," John murmured.

Anna touched his wrist as he made to follow Tim.

"Let him go first," she murmured. "It'll be easier when it's just us."

"He calls you Annie," said John with a slight smile on his face.

"He always has. I couldn't even tell you why. If it was from anyone else I would absolutely despise it, but it's not so bad from him. And don't even think about getting any ideas. If you start calling me it I won't hesitate to smack you."

"Duly noted," he said. "But you've got nothing to worry about. I much prefer Anna. It's far prettier."

Why was he always so obliviously charming? Shaking her head, she said, "Come on, let's go. It's time to face the music. And take my hand. I think that will make it look more authentic, like I'm giving you moral support."

"All right," he said faintly, all humour leaving his face. Tentatively, he reached out with his left hand and twined it through her right. She sucked in a sharp breath.

It was the first time he had ever held her hand. And it felt amazing.

His broad palm pressed against hers. His thick, calloused fingers, possessing so much strength, held hers with a delicacy that belied his large size. It was impossibly warm. And, though it was the first time she had ever touched him in such a way, she was sure that it was a touch that could bring great comfort to anyone, a touch that would never fail to make someone feel safe and loved.

Tim exited the house and made his way back towards the car.

"They're waiting in the kitchen," he said, tipping them a wink. "I'll see you soon, Annie, John."

With that, he hopped into the car and sped off, leaving them alone.

"They were grilling him," said Anna. "Wanting to know what to expect. If he was only dropping the cases in then he wouldn't have taken so long."

John grinned sardonically, though there was a real hint of trepidation underneath. "Let's see if I meet their expectations."

"You will," Anna said staunchly. "There's nothing about you that's unlikeable."

She led him up the garden path and pushed open the front door.

"Mum, Cat? We're here!" she called.

She could hear whispered hissing from the kitchen, then her mum's casual voice. "Oh, hello, love! We're just through here!"

They kicked off their shoes and moved towards the kitchen. John squeezed her hand tighter. She glanced back at him. He looked as if he was fighting the urge to be sick.

"Hey," she said, "it'll be all right."

"They're not going to like this," he whispered.

"They are. And if they don't, well, they'll get a piece of my mind."

But her own insides twisted. Determined not to let him see her nerves, she led him down the rest of the passageway, pausing for a second in the doorway. Taking a deep breath and pushing back her shoulders, she entered the room.

"Mum, Cat!" she said.

"Oh, my little darling!" shrieked her mum, and next moment she was enveloped completely in her arms. John took a startled step backwards, his hand sliding out of hers, and Anna wrapped her own arms around her mum. The embrace lasted for several long moments before Mum stepped away, eyeing her critically.

"You look thin," she decided. "Have you been eating enough? I hope you're not dieting. And you look very pale. It doesn't suit you."

Anna rolled her eyes. "I'm exactly the same as I was at Christmas."

Mum sniffed. "Yes, well, you need someone to look after you."

"And I've found him," she retorted. This was it. She half-turned to find John lurking on the periphery, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him nearer, slipping easily under his arm. "Mum, Cat, I'd like you to meet John."

Cat, Anna noticed, had been staring at him openly. She came forward now, eyebrow arched. "John. Hello." Her expression was largely unreadable, though Anna could detect a hint of disbelief in her features.

Her mum, on the other hand, did nothing to disguise her appraisal. Her eyes swept from the top of John's head right down to his feet, lingering on the crooked knee and the cane that he held in his right hand. To her dismay, she could tell that her mum had been expecting someone else entirely.

"John," she said flatly.

"It's nice to meet you," said John awkwardly. No one moved for several seconds, and the silence grew overwhelmingly.

"I'd love a cup of tea," Anna babbled.

"Put the kettle on, Cat," said Mum slowly.

"But—"

"Now, please."

With a huff, Cat stomped over to the kettle. Water gushed over the sides and sprayed everywhere as she put the tap on with too much force. Amid very colourful swearing on her sister's part and scandalised "Catherine!"s on her mother's, Anna craned her neck so she could look up at John properly. "Welcome to the mad house."

"Anna, really," Mum said reprovingly. She went back to scrutinising him with a piercing blue gaze. "Well, John, it's nice that you're finally here. You're not what I was expecting."

Anna bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not like I had much information to go on," she argued. "Beyond his name, I didn't know a thing about him. He's very…different from Callum."

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Cat said breezily. "Callum was a prat, wasn't he?"

Mum made a non-committal noise. Anna knew that she had always quite liked Callum, with his cheeky smile and boyish good looks. He'd certainly known how to be charming. Too charming—it was his ability to charm the skirts off other women that had led to them breaking up in the first place. Yet Anna had a sneaking suspicion that her mum would rather her have brought someone like that home again rather than this stoic, silent man who was clearly many years her senior. She wondered if it would have made a different impression if she had thought to wear different shoes. Her flats were the most comfortable, but they did nothing to aid her small stature. It had been one of life's great indignities when her sister, though younger, had towered above her. It wasn't as if Cat was very tall—at five five, she stood at the average height for a woman—but to Anna, who was barely five two, she seemed a million miles above her. When she stood beside John, she felt as if she was in a giant's shadow, a feeling intensified by his broad stature. It did nothing but make her feel safe, standing beside his towering form, but she wondered now if it was only emphasising the sheer difference between them, that she looked like a young girl and not a woman of twenty-eight. She squared her shoulders, ready to do battle, and was surprised when someone else spoke. John.

"Callum was more than a prat. He was an idiot."

"Oh," said Mum, sounding surprised. "You know about Callum, then?"

"Yes," said John. "And he had to be a complete idiot to treat someone as wonderful as Anna like that." He gave a modest shrug. "But I ought to thank him, really. Anna and I might not have been together otherwise. I genuinely can't understand how a man can be so stupid that he doesn't realise exactly what he already has in someone like your daughter."

Mum looked slightly mollified at that, though she did not stop scrutinising him. "Well, sit down. Cat, make that tea."

She bustled over to the table and, after exchanging a look, Anna and John followed suit. Anna made sure that she kept a hold of John's hand beneath the line of the table. It was about more than just putting on a good show. She had a feeling that John really did need the reassurance right now, and she would not shy away from the challenge.

It seemed like her mum was not going to shy away, either. She stared at them from across the other side of the table and said baldly, "I'll admit, Mr. Bates, you've given me quite a shock. I never saw my Anna with a man like you."

"A man like what?" Anna said hotly. "Look, John is a good man. The best of men. He also happens to be my best friend. I don't care what you think. I'm with him and that's all that matters." She shot a look at Cat. "Is that tea nearly ready?"

Cat shot her another raised-eyebrow look before unfolding herself so that she could fetch the milk from the fridge. Taut silence reigned until she placed the cups in front of them and took a seat beside Mum.

"So," she said brightly, "Anna says you met through work?"

"That's right," said John slowly. "Two years ago. I moved from London to Downton and started working at the offices. I think you know Mary? Well, I'm her father's best friend—"

He stopped abruptly, perhaps realising that announcing that he was the best friend of her friend's father was doing nothing to diminish the age gap between them. Anna jumped in quickly. "That's right. And it was pretty much love at first sight."

John glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she looked determinedly forward at her family.

"And what about for you, John?" asked Mum.

"Not quite as fast," he said carefully. "I shall admit it: I shared many of the reservations that you have about me. I hope you know that I have always wanted what's best for Anna. But the more time I spent with her, the more difficult it was to tell myself that what I felt was strictly platonic. In the end…" He shrugged. "Well, I felt like we were both unhappy by being apart. I trust Anna, therefore I trusted that she knew what was best for herself. I won't claim to ever understand what she sees in me, but I shall be thankful for it every day."

More silence met his words. Cat grabbed her cup and slurped her tea noisily.

"I like that you think so highly of my daughter," said Mum at last. "She is very special to me, and it's more important than ever that she finds someone who treats her well because I can't be there to look after her."

"John looks after me very well," said Anna. "Now, would it be all right if we took our cases upstairs?"

"I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," said Mum. "Follow me."

They all got to their feet. In the hall, Anna reached for her case, but John placed his hand over hers.

"Allow me," he said.

"No, really, it's fine," she protested, but he ignored her, hoisting it into his left hand. He leaned his cane against the wall and picked up his own.

"Is that a good idea?" Mum said nervously.

"I can manage in the house, Mrs. Smith," said John politely. "Please, lead the way."

She nodded uncertainly, and started up the stairs. John followed her. Anna shadowed him, with Cat bringing up the rear, looking entirely too entertained. On the landing, they paused.

"Anna, you can have this room here," she said, indicating the door nearest the stairs. "And John, you can have the one at the other end of the corridor."

"Mum sleeps in the middle," Cat muttered to Anna. "She does it to stop anyone from sneaking into each other's rooms. It's no worth trying it. Believe me, I'm talking from personal experience. Tim and I once tried to sleep together here and it all went unbelievably wrong. The mattresses have to be the squeakiest ones in existence. It summoned her like the devil, and she gave me such a roasting. We never did try it again. So you and Johnny are going to have to keep your hands off each other."

"I think we'll manage," Anna said. "I'm not really sure how sexy it is to have sex when you know that your parents are next door."

"And that's where we differ," said Cat with a wink. "The illicit nature of it only makes it hotter. Not that we got the opportunity, because like I said…"

"Spare me the details," Anan said hastily.

"What are you two girls whispering about over there?" called Mum, breaking up the conversation. "Come on! Anna, dear, why don't you get changed? I thought we might go out for some lunch, get to know each other a little bit more. There's so much that I don't know about John. If he's to become part of the family, we're going to have to know more. What do you say, John?"

"Oh, yes, fine," he responded, looking like a rabbit cornered by the fox. Anna sped over to him, rescuing her case from his hands.

"Why don't you wait for us downstairs?" she said. "We'll only be ten minutes."

"All right," said Mum.

"Don't try anything in those ten minutes, though—you can hear those bloody mattresses through the ceiling."

"Catherine!"

"What? I'm just passing on some helpful advice…"

Anna waited until she heard the two of them arguing distantly in the kitchen before resuming her own conversation with John.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I've been better. But I didn't expect any different. No parent in their right mind would be pleased that their daughter is dating an old, crippled bloke."

"Rubbish," she said fiercely. "They don't know you yet, that's their problem. Once they realise what a wonderful man you are, they'll be telling me that I have to marry you at once."

The words lingered between them. John coughed awkwardly.

"Right," he said. "Well, thank you for the confidence booster, Anna. I'd better go and freshen up. Which room is the bathroom?"

"The one straight across from here," said Anna, but she caught his wrist before he could move away from her. "John, listen to me. Please don't let their frosty reception get you down or play mind tricks with you. This does not make you worthless. I'm ashamed that they've done it, but they've judged a book by its cover. You are worth so much more than you think. I know you think that you're undeserving because of the way that you and Vera screwed everything up, but I categorically tell you that you're not. You are so much better than that. You might have made mistakes in the past, but you've learned from those, and you're a better man because of it. You've helped so many people since moving to Downton, me at the very least. You've helped to make my world a brighter place, and no one could ever replace you. By the end of it, my family will see what I mean."

"Not entirely," he quipped, then softened. "Thank you, Anna. I mean it. Really." He reached out and squeezed the hand that was still on his arm, then stepped away. Anna took a step back too.

"I'll meet you downstairs," she babbled.

She smiled despite herself when she entered the bedroom that would be hers for the next few days. Her mum had always had the tendency to clutter spaces, and here was no exception. There were a hundred trinket boxes covering every surface, picture frames on every spare inch of wall, and various ornaments picked up from various places in France. This wasn't her home, but it was a comforting reminder of her childhood days in Downton.

Shaking her head, she set about touching up her makeup and squirting more perfume. She wrestled with her hair and, once she'd deemed herself acceptable, made her way back downstairs.

She was grateful to see that John had not yet arrived. Standing in the threshold, she cocked her head slightly and listened for the sound of him creaking about above her head. Reassured that he wasn't yet following her, she slipped into the kitchen.

Her mum and sister were sitting together at the table, heads bent close. They jerked apart at once when she cleared her throat.

"Having a good gossip, are we?" she asked, taking the seat opposite them.

"Of course not!" said Mum guiltily.

"So," said Anna, ignoring her, "what do you think?" She might as well get this over and done with now, while John wasn't in the room. It was going to come to a head at some point, so it might as well be on her own terms, early on, so she could nip it in the bud.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Mum kept glancing helplessly at Cat, as if she hoped that she would take the lead, but Cat didn't seem to want to be forthcoming.

"I told you. He's…not what I expected," said Mum at last.

"You might as well expand on it. Come on, get it off your chest." Anna stared at each of them in turn, challenging.

Cat held up her hands. "Hey, don't look at me, sis. He's not to my tastes, but whatever floats your boat. I'm hardly one to judge. Remember Michael Pearson? God, he was a total stoner. I only stayed with him in the first place because I was stoned half the time too."

What!?" Their mum's voice was sharp as a cracked whip, and filled with disgust and horror. "Catherine Elizabeth Smith, you've taken drugs!? Good God, did I raise you to be so irresponsible?"

"Oh, don' be so dramatic," said Cat indifferently. "It was only a bit of weed, and I've not done it since I was twenty. Every kid in the village has done it at some point. Even Anna."

"I did not!" Anna said indignantly as her mum swung an accusatory gaze on her. She wasn't stupid enough to admit to anything at the present time. Besides, one joint once when she was eighteen hardly counted. "Anyway, you're getting off the topic. I asked you what you thought of John. You might as well tell me the truth. I'd prefer it to you lying to me."

Mum drummed her fingernails against the table top a few times before admitting helplessly, "Well, he is a bit…old. I don't like that. I mean, he's only a few years younger than I am! If your dad was here, he'd have a heart attack."

"The age difference has never bothered me," said Anna. "I don't care about any of that. Surely the most important thing is that we're on the same wavelength and he makes me happy?"

"But there are so many young men around…you could have your pick…"

"I don't want my pick," she said firmly. "I've tried dating my own age group, and look where that's got me in the past. As Cat pointed out, Callum was a prat, and I haven't had any great success since then. John has never once looked at me as if I'm less than a human being. He's never treated me like a piece of meat. He's kind and respectful and everything a woman can ask for. You're not looking past the physical. You're not seeing the man that he is inside."

"That's a bit unfair," Mum huffed. "I met him ten minutes ago. It hasn't given me much time to look beyond the physical, has it?"

Anna pursed her lips. That was a bit of a lame answer. She'd had no problems looking past the physical straight away on the day that they had met. Everyone else had been gossiping about his injury and his suitability for the job, but she had been preoccupied with the kindness in his eyes, the tightness of his smile that suggested that he was long used to being treated in such a manner. She had resolved that she would not fall into the same prejudices that her fellows had. Instead, she had fallen into something more.

Oblivious, her mum said, "Though while we're on the subject of the physical…what happened to him? Why does he have a walking stick? He's a lot older than I want for you, but he's not old to have a cane…"

"Afghanistan happened," Anna said shortly. "He saved his best friend's life and was injured for life because of it. If it wasn't for John, Mary would have grown up fatherless."

More uncomfortable silence followed this, but Anna was determined that she wasn't going to be the one to break it. She would let them both squirm in their guilt that they had thought badly of a war hero. Even if they hadn't known anyone who had personally been in the fighting, it was impossible not to know something about it. Every day the newspapers had reported more bleak news of destructions, the news had aired more scenes of soldiers who would never go back home to their families.

"I'm sorry," Mum said at last. "I didn't know."

"It still shouldn't make a difference," said Anna. "How he came by the injury doesn't change him as a person. And he'll thank you kindly for never bringing it up or making it an issue. He'd prefer to forget it if he could. And, believe it or not, it is easy to forget that he has it. It's not a limitation, nor does it define him."

"All right, Anna, we get it," said Cat. "We're sorry. So lay off it, yeah?"

Anna shot her a glowering look. Easier said than done. It was hard to do that when the man she loved had to struggle against the poor opinions of the people she wanted most to think good of him. Before she could say any more, however, there was a tentative knock on the frame of the door. John stood there, looking self-conscious.

"Is it okay ifI come in?" he asked.

"Don't be silly," Anna said. "You don't have to ask anything in this house."

"I just didn't want to interrupt anything."

"You're not. Besides, we're going out for dinner now. Right?"

"I'll grab my coat," muttered Mum.

"And I guess I'll drive," said Cat. "I've only got a little Peugeot, though. Will you be okay in that, Johnny?"

"Yes," he said politely.

"Great," she said, bounding to her feet. "Meet you outside."

When she had gone, John turned to her. "Really, how was it?"

"Fine," Anna said resolutely. "Really, John. Stop worrying."

"I just don't want to let you down."

She looked him in the eye, willing him to see the truth of her words. "You could never let me down. Now come on, let's go."

Gently, she took his hand in hers and led him out of the house. And it was for the briefest of seconds, but she was certain that he squeezed it in gratitude.


They enjoyed a quiet meal out at a traditional French restaurant. It seemed like her mum was making a conscious effort to get to know John better. She asked him questions about his nomadic childhood, though Anna detected a flicker of displeasure in her eyes when he mentioned his Catholic mother. Of course that would present another problem. Her family had never been the kind to attend church, but they had been christened Protestant and her mum was a vigorous believer, and Anna knew that on some level the minor differences in their religions would present a chasmic problem. Never mind the fact that, as a self-confessed disbeliever, John probably wouldn't care what their children were christened as. It was a miracle that Cat had fallen for one of the very few Protestants in France.

God, look at her. Acting as if she and John were legitimately going to discuss having children one day. She was getting dangerously in over her head. She would have to remind herself that this was not a real relationship. Hell, they had only just held hands for the benefit of her family, never mind anything else. Yes, she loved him, but it was not a good idea to get swept up in ideas of grandeur and longevity that would never come to be. Once this break was over, they would go back to how they had been before, perhaps sharing an awkward laugh about their adventures from time to time. She would go back into the neat little box labelled friends, and that would be the end of it. It was unwise for her to think of anything else.

And yet she couldn't help it.

"So, John," said Mum, "Anna tells me that you were in the army."

John glanced sideways at her. She mouthed 'sorry' at him, feeling the uncomfortable prickle of shame at her scalp. She had told Mum not to bring up the army. Why did they want to thwart her at every turn? She couldn't remember it being this difficult when she had introduced Callum to them. There hadn't been nearly as many awkward and intrusive questions. She was sure that they were only keeping it up because of the age difference between them. If John had been in his late twenties, like her, he was sure to have been welcomed with open arms.

Or perhaps Dad had been the one to rein Mum in before, when she had first been getting serious with Callum.

But he was no longer here to protect her that way.

"Yes, I was," John said after a moment's pause.

"Out in Afghanistan."

"Yes, that's right."

"It must have been very frightening for you."

"I won't deny it. But it wasn't the first time that I'd been in a warzone, so I had some idea of what to expect. It was a lot worse for the young lads who had never served before. It was our jobs as more experienced soldiers to take them under our wings and look after them." His jaw tightened. She knew he was remembering young William Mason, who he had been unable to save. It had taken him a very long time to tell her that story, and they had never mentioned it since, but just knowing that he'd trusted her enough to tell her about some of his worst experiences made her feel privileged.

"But you were invalided out?"

He nodded. Anna detected it there, that look of resignation. "Yes. After the injury. It wasn't surprising. I could never have served them again in the same way. I didn't really like the idea of having a desk job when I was used to being out there and actively serving, so I decided to break away entirely."

"And yet you ended up in an office anyway," said Mum, and Anna wanted to throw her hands up and scream. This was getting ridiculous. It seemed that no matter what he said, he was destined to displease her. She couldn't have that.

"I'm jolly glad for it," she said, making a show of putting her hand over his on the table top.

"Yes," he agreed, looking across to her. "There was something good in getting injured. I never thought I'd find someone like Anna, especially after the disaster of my marriage, which I hope you know—"

"Marriage?" said Mum, interrupting him sharply. "Who said anything about marriage?"

John frowned faintly. "Didn't you…?" At once, his face paled, and he glanced across her at, mortified and ashamed. Anna felt the ice spreading through her entire body. Shit.

"No, I didn't know," said Mum, finishing his thought for him. "Anna neglected to tell me that in all of her conversations about your qualities. I daresay it slipped her mind."

Cat, for once, seemed speechless. Her gaze darted between them all, as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was relevant," said Anna as steadily as she could, gripping his hand tighter. She needed that support, needed that tenuous strength beneath her.

"Of course it's relevant!"

"How?" Anna demanded. "What does the past have to do with the here and now?"

Mum glanced tersely at John. He seemed to understand the look at once, dropping his head.

"I'll step outside for a moment," he said.

"You don't have to go," Anna retorted at once.

"I need a cigarette, anyway," he muttered, and pulled his hand from beneath hers. She watched him go for a moment, stooped and limping more pronouncedly than ever, then rounded on her mother.

"What's your problem?" she said heatedly.

"My problem is, Anna May Smith, that you've deliberately kept a very important fact from me! Not only is he a great deal older than you, he's already been married once before! Are you going to tell me that there are kids floating around somewhere too?"

"No, there aren't," she snapped.

"Well, there might have been for all I know. He's certainly old enough to have fathered a couple."

"Why are you so determined to dislike him? He hasn't done a thing to deserve it. You won't even give him the chance to prove that he's worthy. You're just dismissing him out of hand."

"Don't pretend that you wouldn't feel exactly the same if you were in my position."

"I'd trust my child enough to trust that she was making the right choice," she shot back. "You trusted Cat to move to France!"

"That's completely different and you know it!"

"Why? Because Cat ended up choosing someone who you deem suitable? Did his money swing it for you?"

"Hey, don't bring Tim into this!" said Cat. "It's not his fault!"

Anna took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. "You're right. But neither is it John's. He's a good man. You're just refusing to see the positives."

"We're not saying he's a bad man," said Mum. "But we hardly know the fellow. We're going to need a few more days to make our minds up about him. Happily, we have that. Now please, stop flying off the handle whenever we so much as question him. He's a grown man. He can take care of himself."

"Sure," Anna said tersely. "Now, please excuse me. I should go outside and see how he is."

"You'll miss dessert."

"We'll order when I'm back. Feel free to finish your meal and get your side of the bill."

"It's my treat."

"No, we'd rather pay our own way. I'll see you soon."

She pushed her chair away and made her way out of the little restaurant. She found John standing not too far away, a cigarette burning in his fingers. He managed a feeble quirk of the lips when he saw her. She held his gaze as she reached him, slipping around him so she was downwind of his smoking.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I can't believe I keep having to apologise for them, but I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really. I understand where they're coming from. I'm just sorry that I've messed things up for you."

"How can you possibly have messed anything up for me?" she said.

"I didn't realise that you hadn't told them about my marriage. I assumed you had when you said that they knew everything. Now I've put you in a difficult position with them again."

"Don't be silly," she said fiercely. "You could never put me in a difficult position. I really couldn't care less about Vera. My family shouldn't either. Your past is none of their business."

He tapped ash from the end of his cigarette, snorting. "The bright side is that your mum will be over the moon when we break up."

"Well, fake or not, you've been a wonderful boyfriend. I shall be sad." She bumped her shoulder against his affectionately, and rejoiced when she raised a smile. "Don't worry, John. We'll be fine. I'll protect you from Mum."

"I have to say, I'm very touched. I don't think I could be in a safer pair of hands when it comes to having a fake girlfriend defend my honour."

"Yes, well, don't think I go around doing this for anyone. It's only because you're my best friend."

"That's the highest of high praise," he said, and she shuffled closer. They stood in silence while he finished smoking.

"We should get back inside," she sighed.

"Yes, you're right," said John, sounding reluctant.

"How about I promise to buy you dessert?"

He chuckled. "I'm buying. Now, how about some chocolate cake, Miss Smith?"

She smiled at him, glad that he could at least joke a little. "Chocolate cake sounds stodgy and comforting. Let's do it, Mr. Bates."

He offered her his hand and she took it, and together they went back into the lion's den.


The rest of the day passed quickly, if a little stiltedly. After their meal, Anna thought it would be prudent for them all to go their separate ways for a bit, and claimed that she wanted to show John around the small area for a while. She could tell it didn't sit well with her mum or with her sister, but she didn't care. She and John browsed around together, went to a café for some sandwiches when they got hungry, and finally returned to the Smith residence when they could put it off no longer. Once there, they all made more of an effort, speaking to each other in overly polite manners and discussing nothing heavier than the weather. At last, Mum glanced at the clock.

"I expect you're tired," she said. "Bed time, I think. I'm just going to have a cup of tea before I turn in."

She stood and bustled into the kitchen. Cat hung back, smirking.

"She's giving you time for a more private goodnight," she said. "Use the time wisely, guys. See you in the morning. Don't forget we've got the final dress fittings tomorrow, Anna."

"I won't," Anna said. "See you in the morning."

Together, she and John made their way upstairs, pausing outside Anna's door. John leaned against the doorjamb.

"How long should I linger?" he whispered.

"Give it a minute or two," she replied in a low voice. "They're going to expect us to be giving each other a thorough goodnight. They're not going to be curious about the quiet. They'll think we're snogging."

John coughed and averted his gaze. A short, awkward silence followed them for a moment before they smiled at each other and ducked their heads. No words were exchanged until a hurried goodnight a minute later, and then John carried on down the landing to the bedroom that had been allocated to him. The creaking of the floorboards must have alerted the others to the end of their goodnights, for Cat hollered farewell and banged the door behind her on the way out, and Mum creaked her way up the stairs.

Anna picked her coat up from the bed where she'd laid it earlier and threw it in the direction of the chair in the corner, too tired to bother hanging it up tonight, but it hit it with a dull thunk that did not match with the sound that it should have made. She paused, then remembered that Mary had handed her some mysterious package that very morning. In all of the madness since then, she had forgotten all about that.

Well, there was no time like the present.

Hurrying over to her coat, she delved deep into the pocket to pull out that brown bag. She thrust her hand into the packet, coming into contact with something square and cellophane wrapped. A box of some sort. Curious, she pulled it out, and swore, dropping it as if it had burned her.

Condoms. Bloody condoms.

Shakily, almost afraid that it would leap up and bite her, she bent down to retrieve it, holding it delicately between forefinger and thumb. Of all the things that Mary could have given her, she presented her with this. Was this her idea of a joke? Anna could well imagine that it was: she'd had a field day when she'd first heard that she had asked John to pretend to be her boyfriend, and had gone to those baffling lengths just last night to ensure that they shared a room. It seemed that she was determined to make them as embarrassed as she could before this trip was out. Not that it would take much in that respect, with uncomfortable questions coming at them from left, right, and centre.

But even so. Bloody condoms.

She stuffed them hastily into her open suitcase, burying them beneath a pile of her knickers. They were never going to see the light of day again. It was a rather lamentable fact, really, though she would not give Mary the satisfaction of knowing that. Stomping back to her dresser, she picked up her phone and fired off two words: Nice try.

The reply was almost instantaneous: There's plenty of time yet.

I don't think so. Now stop trying to embarrass me. Or do you want me to tell everyone that you're holidaying with your father?

Touché, Anna. Well, we'll see who's thanking who at the end of the holiday. When in Rome and all that.

We're not in Rome.

Fine, be a wet blanket. I'm not going to engage with you any further when you're up on your high horse. See you and your lover boy soon. X

Anna stared down at her phone, shaking her head in disbelief. Honestly. She had never known someone as infuriating as Mary Crawley in her whole life. Well, perhaps Cat would give her a close run for her money. It was surprising that the two of them didn't get on better, for between them they did a fantastic job of making her life hell.

When in Rome…

Was it a possibility?

No, she told herself firmly. John would never go in for something like that. And she wouldn't want him to do something that he would regret when he got home, something that would jeopardise their entire friendship. Mary could look for her entertainment elsewhere.

Replacing her phone on the bedside cabinet, Anna went through her nightly ablutions and snuggled down into bed. It had been a very action packed day. She was glad to be able to sleep.

As she turned onto her side, however, a little treacherous voice in the back of her head told her that she had had a better night last night, when John Bates had been but feet away from her in the very same bed.


The next morning came around too soon. After bolting down some breakfast, Anna rushed upstairs to get changed, waiting for her sister to come and pick her up for that all important dress fitting.

When she heard the honk of the horn outside, she turned to find her mum still sans coat. She raised her eyebrow.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Mum said vaguely. "I'm going to wait until the wedding day before I see you kitted out for the first time. It'll make it more special."

"Fair enough," Anna shrugged, before turning to call up the stairs. "John, are you ready?"

"Actually, I was thinking that John could stay here with me."

Anna raised her eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, it will give us the chance to get to know one another a little better," Mum said. "It would be quite nice to sit down with a cup of tea and have a bit of a chat."

"I don't know if that's really necessary," Anna said feebly. God, that was the last thing she needed, to spend the entire morning worrying about what Mum was beating John with. She'd seen her in action before. She was like an interrogator for MI5. It wouldn't surprise her if she came home to find that John had cracked and confessed all about the charade of their relationship.

To her surprise, John appeared at the top of the stairs. It seemed that he had heard every word that had been said; he was pale, but there was a determined look on his face.

"Honestly, my darling, it's fine," he croaked. "You go on and get your dress fitted. Your mum and I will be fine."

The car horn honked again impatiently. Anna still didn't move, her gaze flickering uncertainly between them.

"Are you sure?" she asked him one more time. It wasn't fair to feed him to the lion's den.

"Yes, certain," he said, though he sounded anything but. "Go."

"Yes, trot off," said Mum, practically dragging her to the door. "Your John is in safe hands. See you later."

Before Anna could even open her mouth, she was over the threshold and the door had been slammed in her face.

With a sense of disquiet, she trudged down the garden path towards Cat. She opened the passenger side and slid in.

"Well, good morning to you too," said Cat. "Don't mind me, waiting out here for you like some bloody chauffeur. Wait, what's up with you?"

"Mum's what's up," Anna huffed. "She's not coming. She's keeping John in there."

"Afraid she's going to jump him?" snickered Cat, then hastily backtracked when Anna shot her a venomous glance. "Oh, honestly, it's nothing to worry about. Mum gave Tim a real grilling when I first brought him home. She banished me from the house and didn't let me back for nearly three hours. I was going stir crazy inside, and Tim looked like he wanted to cry when I saw him again, but it must have gone all right because we're still here and we're going to get married."

None of that did a thing to reassure Anna. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, Tim had had a better start than John had. He was in the same age bracket as Cat was, he was untarnished by previous serious relationships, he was athletically built and good looking. Her mum couldn't have found much to complain about. John's past didn't matter a jot to her, but she wanted her family to think well of him, even if they were not truly together.

Cat tutted. "Oh, don't spend the whole day brooding, Anna. Just let them get on with it. I can't have you going round with a face like a slapped arse on the final dress fittings. Just relax and enjoy yourself. They're putting champagne on for us. Neck a couple of those and lighten up."

Which was easier said than done, Anna thought. Still, she managed a smile and tried to think on something else.

Overall, she felt she did pretty well. The dress fitting gave her little time to ponder on John and her mum as she was poked and prodded, told to breathe in, twirl, told not to slouch, tutted at for her shortness, jabbed with pins and accosted with measuring tapes. It was a very long process. But, when the final alterations were done and she was allowed a look at herself in the mirror, she thought that she looked pretty good. Her sister had chosen dove grey dresses, strapless, which Anna supposed looked very at home in the celebrity world of fashion. Still, they were very pretty, and it did suit her. She hoped that John would like it.

When the final part of the bill was settled, with the dress shop staff promising to fly the dresses over to the Riviera with the utmost care, they all departed. Anna liked the other bridesmaids, all friends of Cat's. They were all loud and bubbly, impossibly gorgeous and wild. They had made her feel very welcome, even if they were bemused by Anna's broad Yorkshire accent—they kept asking her to repeat words and mimicking her. Cat's had softened over time, influenced by the fact that she heard nothing but a French accent day in, day out for several years now.

"So, what do you want to do now?" asked Cat once they had waved the others off. "We could go and get a coffee or something."

"Actually, would you mind if we just went back to Mum's?" said Anna.

"Oh, all right," sighed Cat, then softened. "Never let it be said that I don't have sympathy for you. But we will get a day out together before the wedding, you hear me, Anna?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way," said Anna, slipping her arm through her sister's. "You and me, just like the old times."

Cat grinned mischievously. "When we used to talk about boys and dreams, and you used to nearly kill me when you learned that I'd done another silly thing that Mum would probably have a heart attack over."

"I had sleepless nights for a week over your first tattoo," Anna laughed. "I did not want to be in the vicinity when that one blew up."

"And I kept trying to convince you to have one too so that I'd have some solidarity…"

"Which never happened, because I hate needles. And Dad was a rubbish ally for you because one look from Mum quelled him instantly."

"And you wouldn't even get your belly button pierced to stand up in solidarity."

"Because your screaming scared the living daylights out of me."

"And you got into even more trouble than I did over that because Mum was furious you'd let me do it." Cat grinned. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did," said Anna. They had. They were like chalk and cheese in some respects, but they had been inseparable in other ways, and it had been very hard indeed when Cat had moved across the continent on a permanent basis.

"But things have turned out all right for us, haven't they?" said Cat as they climbed back into the car. "Both with decent jobs, both with good men…" She shot her a side glance. "So, come on, spill the beans. John Bates: good in the sack?"

"Catherine!" Anna yelped.

Cat screwed up her face. "Don't call me that. And don't avoid the question. Mum's not here to know."

"That's not the issue. I just like to keep my private life, you know, private."

"Spoilsport. I told you what I thought of Tim when I first shagged him."

"Which was too much information. Especially when you rated all the men you'd ever shagged. Wasn't Tim number three?"

"Behind Michael Pearson and Jason Roe, but don't tell him I ever said that. He was better than Will Leighton and Max Sadler, at least, do you remember them?"

Anna tried very hard not to remember any details of her sister's sex life. It had been mortifying to learn that her baby sister was no longer a baby. She made a non-committal noise and turned to look out of the window, hoping that it would lead Cat to dropping it.

It did not.

"Come on, Anna. I bet you've told Mary!"

Mary was getting some enjoyment out of teasing her now, but Anna was quite sure that if it came down to it, her friend would definitely rather not know how good the man who was almost an uncle figure to her was in bed. But she wasn't going to say that and remind her sister of the age gap between them, so she said nothing.

"Anna May Smith, if you don't stop ignoring me I'm going to tell Mum about that time you broke her favourite china teapot and never said a word!"

Anna swung back around, jaw dropping. "Oh, come on, that was years ago! I was thirteen!"

"And Mum still laments it today. It broke her heart."

She rolled her eyes, huffing, pretending to think about her options to give herself more time. She'd have to lie, of course. She had no idea what John was really like in bed. But she had fantasised about it plenty of times, and had built up her own beliefs based on the man she knew. The way that he always paid sole attention to the person he was talking to suggested that he would give them the same kind of undivided attention in a more intimate setting, which Anna was sure would make him a very good, generous lover…

"Oi! Sis! Where would you rate him?"

"Best I've ever had," she replied at last, determined to keep her gaze on the traffic ahead of them.

"Well, I suppose there isn't a really long list for him to compete with…"

Anna flashed her a rude hand gesture. "On that kind note, that's all you're getting out of me." She reached across and switched on the radio.

Cat muttered something that sounded very much like, "Boring," but she didn't say another word on the subject. They made their way back across the pretty little suburb towards their mum's house, and Anna practically flew out of the car door before it had stopped moving once they arrived. She had all manner of images in her head, and all seemed to prominently feature John fleeing the scene, unable to take any more torture. She barrelled through the front door.

"Mum? John?" she called loudly as she kicked off her shoes. "We're home!"

She sounded painfully cheerful in the hopes that it would swing things in her favour.

"In the kitchen, love!" Mum shouted back, and she almost sprinted in that direction, fingers crossed—

She stumbled through the kitchen door in her haste—hardly the most graceful of entries—and clutched at the counter as her eyes darted round frantically, looking for any John-shaped holes in the wall.

There he was. At the table with her mum, clutching a mug of tea and poring over some sort of magazine on the surface in front of him.

"Hello," he said, glancing up as she approached. "How did the dress fitting go?"

"Really well," she answered cautiously, moving further into the room. "What's going on?"

Mum sniffed. "Nothing's going on, Anna, honestly. We're simply having a nice cup of tea together."

"Your mum is showing me some of the plans she's got for redoing the interior," said John.

"How…nice," Anna managed.

"And John here is giving me some advice on how I should go about it," said Mum, and Anna was surprised to hear that not one word of it was uttered sarcastically. That was a true miracle. Mum loathed anyone trying to poke their noses into her plans for the house. She had been a nightmare back in England. If their bedrooms had ever needed decorating, Mum had always said that they could have whatever colour they wanted…provided it was the one that she had casually suggested would look nice. Cat had once wanted a violent pink. "How nice, dear," Mum had said, "but don't you think a pastel purple will look so much nicer?"

Cat had ended up with pastel purple.

"That's…wonderful," she said, moving to rub John's shoulders from behind. He gave a sigh and leaned in to her touch. It was all an act to imply sheer intimacy, but Anna's heart leapt nevertheless. She leaned over him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Purely for authenticity. John leaned his head against her shoulder—also for authenticity purposes, unfortunately—and smiled up at her. She couldn't help but return it, feeling hope well up inside her despite herself.

Mum was on the way to accepting John, it was the only explanation. And if he got Mum's seal of approval…

Maybe, just maybe, it would give him the boost he might need to move things in the right direction.