I just thought I would right a sweet AU fan fic about life for the Bates' family some years after their marriage, three chapters set in 1938, 1943 and 1948.
A bit sweet, a bit of fluff and not much of a major plot - just some nice stuff with the goings on pre, during and post World War 2.
I hope you enjoy, and as always please review.
1938
The young woman sat down at the table, the sun was shining through the April cold and her teeth chattered, part through cold and part through nerves. Stood opposite her was a woman in her mid forties, her fair hair pulled back into a bun that was a little old fashioned but at the same time suited her perfectly. Her black dress was simply cut, falling to her knees and flattered her figure, the woman smiled at Ceri.
"So – are you ready?"
"I think so. I came from Stonor Park."
"Oxfordshire?" said an older man sat to her left, with a box of collars open in-front of him, his hair was a dark grey and slicked back off his face, he had a warm face and a slight Irish burr to his voice.
"That's right – the 6th baron Camoy … but I wanted a new start."
"Lovely – well I'm Mrs Bates, the countess's ladies maid, I'll take you upstairs now – you can unpack and be ready for the afternoon."
"Thank you." She picked up her case and followed the woman out through the door and up the first of a very long flight of stairs. The house was vast – so much bigger than Stonor, so much bigger then she was used to – at Stornor she and the other three housemaids had worked hard to keep the house clean, but here … how could it be kept clean she wondered.
"You look terrified!"
"Do I? Sorry – I was just thinking how big Downton is. It seems – just … vast!" Mrs Bates laughed, not at Ceri, she was relieved to see, but with her.
"Oh yes it is, but it's not impossible, and there are a great deal of spare bedrooms that don't need to be cleaned everyday. When I first started here as a housemaid we didn't even have electricity – you girls today – you've got it made!"
"You were a housemaid?"
"Yes – until her ladyship married the Earl, Mr Crawley, in – oh – 1921. Then I became her ladies maid, and my husband became his lordships valet."
"You're husband?"
"Yes – Mr Bates, you met him in the servants hall."
"Oh I see – you're husband, goodness." At Stornor there had never been allowed married staff – clearly Downton was a very different kind of house! She turned to Mrs Bates, readjusting the suitcase in her hand – how many stairs were there in this house!
"Yes – we live on the estate in a grace and favour cottage. For seventeen years now, with our children."
"Your children? How sweet – how many have you got?"
"Three – 2 boys, Patrick and Ciaran, and our daughter Aoife. Patrick's 17, he's working here now, in the garage – he's always been mad on cars, and so Mr Waite the chauffer here is teaching him about engines. Aoife's 15, she's working as a typist for a publisher in Ripon, and Ciaran's just 13, so we don't know what'll happen to him when he leaves school next year."
"How exciting – does he have any interests?"
"Oh yes, running, he says he wants to run in the Olympics! He's his head in the clouds that one."
"I think it's an excellet ambition – is he fast?"
"Oh yes – very fast, he's always been a whippy lad, when he was a child you had to keep both eyes on him or he'd be out of your sights before you could say Jack Spratt. But he's just a boy from Yorkshire, as much as I'd like him to follow his dreams, my husband and I are realists – he'll not get to Japan to compete – I'm afraid. Ahh – here we are – your room. I'm afraid Eileen left it a little messy, I know Mary did give it a clean but it may still be a little musty."
"I'm sure it'll be fine – thank you Mrs Bates."
"Very welcome – you're uniform should be – yes – it's there on your bed. I'll see you later Ceri."
Anna ladled out the stew into six bowls, Patrick was already eyeing up the rest of the remaining stew in the pan.
"It's fine – there'll be some left for seconds!" Her eldest son had clearly inherited her husbands genes in terms of height, he already towered over her at 6 foot – she felt like she spent her entire life letting down his trousers to try and get them to reach his boots and not hang around his ankles.
"Aoife! Ciaran! Your tea's ready!" She passed a bowl to her daughter as she entered the kitchen and sat down beside her brother. "Ciaran? Where's you're brother you two?"
"Talking to Dad out front when I got home." Patrick said, his spoon hovering over the edge of his bowl. Anna gave him a careful look from under a raised eyebrow and he timidly replaced his spoon beside his plate.
"If your dad and Ciaran aren't out front – then you can start without them, but you're going to wait until I've checked – got it Paddy!"
"Yes Mam." Anna made her way to the front door, opening up onto their small patch of garden, currently asleep for the winter, but under her and John's tender care would be full of colourful blooms come summer. She found John sat on the step, his head resting on a hand as he looked out over the estate.
"John? Where's Ciaran?" She said,
"We had an argument …"
"About what?" she sat down beside her husband on the cold stone step.
"What do you think? His running of course, I told him he needed to start thinking about a real occupation."
"He didn't take it very well then?" Anna slipped her hand into his and stroked his knee.
"Are we doing the right thing? Telling him to abandon his dreams? I mean I followed mine – I married you."
"Your dreams were a little more modest than Ciaran's. Marrying the girl you love doesn't really compare with going to Japan to compete in the Olympics, does it? You shouldn't worry so much, we've got three fantastic children John. They're beautiful, and clever, and we can be proud of them, Paddy's doing a job he adores, Aoife's worked hard to do a good job that pays enough for her to give me something for the house and for her have enough put away for when she marries, and Ciaran … Ciaran'll be fine, once he leaves school he'll find a job, he'll marry a young lass and he'll be a great father. Maybe in 25 years time when he's having this conversation with his son the world'll be a different place – maybe in … lord – 1963, a working class boy can follow his dreams and do what ever he wants."
"You're right – of course. When are you not right!"
"Rarely – now come in out of the cold, you'll catch a death – and Paddy'll eat his sister if he has to wait much longer for his tea." She smiled at her husband, reaching up to smooth a strand of hair off his forehead,
"That boy'll eat us out of house and home! Oh I never asked," he said rising to his feet and reaching for his cane. "How's that new maid settling in?"
"Ceri Morgan? OK I think – quite why she came to Yorkshire I'm not sure, Wales to Oxfordshire is one thing – but Wales to Yorkshire?"
"Perhaps we've another Ethyl on our hands!" Letting themselves back into the kitchen, they saw Patrick guiltily replacing his spoon beside his noticeably less full bowl of stew. John picked up a bowl off the table and sat down at the head opposite Anna.
"Go-on Paddy, you can start now … not that you haven't already! What time do we have to be back Anna?"
"Eight, No-one's round for dinner tonight so it'll be an early night."
"Aye-aye!" said their sun with a smirk.
"Patrick! Not at the table … right, so we we'll be back at about eleven, Aoife – can you make sure you're brother gets his tea."
"I will – can I go out to the dance on Saturday Mam? Michael Taylor wants to take me …" Aoife said, carefully watching her parents to gauge their response.
"Michael Taylor – from the village? The engine stoker?"
"Yes, that Michael Taylor."
"I don't see why not … as long as you're not back too late mind!"
"I wont Dad! I promise." Anna smiled at John, he had always been protective over his little girl, and eyed all young men with suspicion,
"And your Dad'll be checking your dress for sooty handprints!" chuckled Patrick.
"Patrick! I wont tell you again!" Scolded Anna, although a little half heartedly – she always quite enjoyed her eldest sons bawdy humour despite herself.
"Ahh, thank you Anna. I think I'm getting to old for these charity dances, I'm exhausted. But the girls seemed to enjoy themselves. Not that I should really call them girls anymore." Said Lady Mary with a smile as she took the cup of coca off Anna. "Seventeen and forteen- I never thought I would see the day. I saw your Aoife at the dance tonight, she seemed having fun, with that Taylor boy of the trains."
"Yes your Ladyship, I think she's a bit sweet on him to be honest. I'll just turn down your bed for you."
"Thank you – and your Patrick seemed full of life, dancing with all the girls! Even my Emma at one point."
"Oh – I am sorry your ladyship, I'll tell him …"
"Oh don't be silly, it's only children having fun – she'll be off to London this summer once she turns eighteen in a few weeks anyway – so it's no harm done. If I was really bothered then I wouldn't let Harold and Emma go to the Spring dance."
Anna pulled the quilt up and readjusted her pillows to prop herself up on the bed as John eased himself in beside her, as the years progressed he leg had got stiffer, although by staying in work with the new Earl of Grantham he had kept active and stopped it rusting up entirely. He opened up his book to read, but he could tell by the look on Anna's face that she had something to talk about, and from almost twenty years of marriage he knew that the look on her face meant that she was going to start a deep conversation just when he was at his most tired.
"I was speaking to Lady Mary tonight …"
"Oh?"
"She said that Paddy was dancing with her Emma at the spring dance earlier on."
"Oh?"
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well – do you think we should talk to him?"
"About what?"
"About what's appropriate …"
"Appropriate? Come on Anna, don't worry so much. He's just a lad."
"He's not a lad John, he's seventeen – he knows what's what, and I just don't want him to do something daft."
"Daft? What you mean like Tom Branson?"
"Exactly like Tom Branson!"
"He'll be fine – he's not daft. Anyway – I know he's sweet of Molly in the village shop."
"You think?"
"I do – now stop your worrying woman and go to asleep! We've got to be out by half five."
"Goodnight love."
"Goodnight."