'Anna! Anna! Come on, this is getting ridiculous now!,' she had heard Graeme exclaim from the bottom of the staircase twice in the space of only a few minutes. She didn't know what the problem was anyway, as far as Anna was concerned they were early, too early for her liking. Still, Anna rounded the bed and made towards the door, not without a backward glance first to make doubly sure everything was in order. Naturally, it was. The closet was closed, the bed made and the window was slightly ajar to air the room out. Content, Anna made for the stairs.

'I don't know why you're so eager to get there! No doubt it'll be an announcement about a new couch they have just ordered or that they plan on spending the winter in Mauritius, and how it will be our duty to make sure they're not robbed!,' Anna had bellowed whilst descending the wooden staircase, the faded surface thundering under her feet. They, who Anna was referring to, were of course the Crawleys; Robert and Cora, to be exact. They had been friends of Anna's and Graeme's for what felt like eternity. Although older than both by quite some years, around fifteen, both couples got on awfully well. Weekends were often spent in each other's company, exchanging weekly news and gossip over a football game (particularly for the men) or a glass of wine.

'That's not the point! I said we'd be there at, what, 12.30pm, and look!,' he had forced his watch ridden wrist under Anna's nose to emphasise his point, '12.14pm! And it takes ten minutes to get there in the first place!'

Anna could only roll her eyes at her boyfriend's unnecessary panic. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but if your calculations are indeed right, we will have six minutes to spare!,' Anna had retorted, jumping over Figg as she did so. Figg being the Siberian Forest cat she had taken in a year ago, rescuing him from one unusually heavy Yorkshire downpour the previous spring.

'Oh, just come on!' cried Graeme, distress pouring out of every orifice. Heaving out a lengthy sigh, Anna relented and grabbed her shoes which stood guard by the door. By this point Graeme was practically bouncing with anxiety.

'For God's sake, wait in the car!,' Anna had said as if talking to a child. Graeme didn't need telling twice. Pulling open the door, he didn't look back. Bloody hell, he's a handful, thought Anna. Her thoughts were interrupted with Figg's sudden desire to be shown affection. Relenting, Anna bent down and scratched him behind the ear. She made to get up and as she did so the door flew open, sending a swift chill in to the house, followed by a glum Graeme. He spoke barely above a whisper, 'Forgot the keys.'

Upon arriving, just as Anna expected, early, Robert had not greeted them as he usually did, open arms and all. How odd, Anna thought. The lack of gesture had not been lost on Graeme either, 'Do you think everything's alright?,' he had asked. Anna didn't know how to answer, in truth. She gave what she only thought she could as a way of reply, 'There's only one way to find out.'

It felt odd knocking on the door of their house to Anna, very odd, in fact. Graeme and Anna were not made to wait long as Cora greeted them at the door, a shadow seemingly cast over her usually glossy features. 'Hey, guys,' was all she managed to muster in that characteristically American drawl of hers. Odder and odder, Anna thought. Cora was not one to shy away from extravagant greetings, which usually resulted in a wet smear of balm over both Anna's and Graeme's cheeks, not to mention having to regulate their breathing again once she had released them from an air tight hug.

Entering the house seemed a different experience that day. It was rarely this quiet. No background noise at all, it would seem. Usually the dulcet tones of Rascal Flatts or Keith Urban could be heard through the speakers, but not today. Something was definitely amiss.

All three of them entered the kitchen, with barely a word exchanged between. Standing at the sink, Robert peered in to the garden beyond, seemingly fascinated on a single piece of laundry blowing in the wind. He had yet to turn round and greet them. 'Robert,' Cora's soft tone splintered the silence, reaching towards her husband and placing a small, jewelled hand on his lower back as she spoke. Cora continued, 'Graeme and Anna are here now.' Her words and her touch had barely moved him at all. Anna and Graeme could only stand and watch, captivated by the silent man before them. Finally, Robert seemed to break free from his daze and turned to greet them. The usually buoyant and charismatic Robert Crawley now stood a shadow of his former self. His face was unshaven, his hair unkempt and his eyes uncomfortably blood shot. 'Hello,' he croaked as if he hadn't been hydrated for days by the sound of his voice. Graeme was the first to speak. 'Robert, mate, what's going on? Is everything alright?,' he questioned, not really sure whether he actually wanted the answer or not. A simple gesture of his head in the form of a 'no' was all he got. Anna looked from him to Robert, then to Cora and back again to Robert. Anna stepped forward, guiding Robert's hand in to her own, doing so almost in a trance. She squeezed gently, hoping that he would enlighten her and Graeme, not that they would be prepared for it. 'My…m-other has died,' was all he could say before his throat began constricting with grief and the weight of his words.

Sitting silently in the Crawley's living room, cup of tea in hand, Anna looked on sympathetically as Robert spoke of his mother's recent demise. 'You know she hadn't been well for a while but still, I wasn't ready.'

'I don't think anyone could ever be truly ready, Rob,' Anna had said in what she hoped was her softest tone. 'The death of a parent is…' She couldn't quite find the right words but the sentiment was there, earning a bobbing of the head by Robert.

'If you need anything, mate, you know where we are, alright?' Graeme had informed his friend.

'I'm grateful. We both are,' Robert had indicated to his wife as he said so. Nodding enthusiastically in confirmation, Graeme stood.

'We will let you be. You ready, Anna?' he questioned his girlfriend, perched on what appeared to be a new couch.

'Yes,' Anna replied.

Reaching the door, Anna gave Robert what she thought was the biggest hug she could offer. 'We'll be in touch,' she had stated before crossing the threshold. Graeme also gave Robert an almighty hug and kissed Cora on the cheek, following Anna's example.

'Oh, Rob, I'll get in touch with John and let him know so he can come up for the funeral in a couple of days. I know he will want to see you both.'

'Of course, John, yes. Yes, I'd like to see him, it's been too long'.

'London's caught up to him, the daft man. Never has time for anyone.' Graeme had virtually spat out his last words, making Anna glance at him in confusion.

Bidding farewell, they stepped in to the car and drove off.

'Ha! 'Bout time! The old bat didn't half bloody linger!' Graeme had exclaimed cheerfully when he came to a junction.

Anna was astonished and did nothing to hide it. 'Graeme!'

He didn't seem to register her reaction and continued, 'Lucky bastard! He'll be in for one hell of an inheritance! She was rolling in it! Well, not anymore…' he laughed at his own 'humour'.

Anna was appalled. How could he react in such a way when his friend of many years was sat in his house grieving for his dear mother? She dreaded to think how he had reacted when his own mother had passed away five years ago.

'Oh God, and I'll have to phone up bloody John! Ugh, I thought I had got rid of him for good!'

Not holding back on her irritation and upset, Anna spat, 'Then why did you mention him to Robert, if you are so against seeing him?!'

'Well, when dearest brother John says he 'can't quite get the time off work', Rob will see who the real John Bates is! And who will be there to be his friend, me, of course. Me. I will be the one to comfort the blubbering bastard and who will get to go to the conferences in Greece and Italy, sipping the finest wines and eating the best food? Exactly, ha, I'm already looking forward to it.'

Anna could not comprehend what had just happened. She was astonished that the man she loved could be so cruel about his best friend. Looking at him, she was seeing him in a completely different light, or shadow, depending on your view of the world. There was a calculating look playing in his eyes, spinning the cogs in his head at all of the great things he could reap at his friend's expense. Only moments ago, Graeme was offering Robert a sympathetic smile and an unyielding reassurance of friendship. The Graeme she had fallen in love with was not the man behind the wheel of the car. He was quite the opposite.

'John? John? It's Graeme. Look, old Violet Crawley has snuffed it and her funeral is on Thursday. Rob wants you to be there so are you going come up here or what?' Graeme practically yelled down the phone to his older brother. 'What?! You will? Are you sure 'cause I bet you're extremely busy down in the Big Smoke and... Wha- yeah, yeah, no, I understand. Right, so you'll be here on the Wednesday? Fine, OK, see you then.' Graeme had only just put down the receiver before he bellowed, 'Shit!'

Anna looked on in disgust. Good, I'm glad he's coming, she thought smugly. 'So, he is coming then?' Anna enquired with a sickeningly sweet voice. Graeme only glared and clamped his eyes shut in anger.

'Looks that bloody way, doesn't it?' he spat. Anna only smiled and anticipated the arrival of this John Bates.