Summary: The Bateses and Carsons often visited each other as they continued their lives out of service.
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey or these characters.
A/N: By special request, this is a oneshot featuring Mrs. Hughes/Mr. Carson and Anna/Bates. It takes place in the not too distant future when both couples have left service and settled down with their lives. It started off as just a fluff piece when I found writing angst to get bit too heavy, but it turned into something else I can't quite label fluff. Please leave a review to let me know what you think.
"And how is little John Junior?" Mrs. Hughes asked.
Mrs. Carson, Anna mentally corrected herself. She still was not quite used to the woman's married name. But it still came more naturally to her than her Christian name, no matter how often the former housekeeper suggested that she could use it.
"He's getting so big. He's probably grown just in the fortnight since you've seen him last."
Elsie smiled as Anna continued to talk about her son with obvious pride. She was a doting mother to the boy, but she also let him run and play. At two years of age, John Bates, Jr. was as active of a child as she had ever seen. Perhaps it was seeing him next to his father, tall and reserved and stoic, that made the boy seem so enthusiastic. Or it could be that like his mother, whose looks he favored, he never sat still for long but was always moving about and employed in the errands so integral to childhood.
"I feel terrible we haven't been over to see you recently," Anna added with a frown. "The hotel has been so busy and-"
Stopping her with a raised hand and a shake of her head, Elsie interrupted, "Don't apologize. I've been remiss in visiting as well. What with Mister Carson..."
She paused, not sure how much to say. But Anna had already noticed the slip. "What is it?" she asked. "Is Mister Carson all right?"
"He's perfectly fine," the older woman rushed to assure her. "The doctor just worries about his heart. He's getting on in years, you know. We both are."
Puckering her lips with amusement, Anna responded, "Not that far on in years, Mrs. Carson. I have it on good authority you're still out in your garden every day, and Mister Carson is working for the town counsel."
Both women suppressed a chuckle at the mention of the town counsel. It was as much a peacekeeping position as anything else, and the former butler tended to have his hands full with mediating between the shopkeepers who tended to spend more of their time squabbling than working towards a common purpose.
"I suppose it is better than him reading the paper all day and worrying about how Lady Mary is faring at Downton without him," Elsie observed with amusement.
Anna smiled at this, knowing as she did how Mrs. Carson felt about the Earl of Grantham's eldest daughter. There was not animosity there, of course, but a healthy bit of skepticism. "He needn't worry. I had a letter from her just yesterday and she has everything firmly in hand."
"No new suitors?" Elsie asked, fixing her eyes on her cup of tea even as her voice betrayed her curiosity in posing the question.
"Thankfully, no. But I wouldn't count on that always being the case."
Their conversation easily turned from gossip about their former employment to their husbands. One of Anna's favorite aspects of her regular visits to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Carson was the respite it gave her from working at the hotel she and her husband ran. The breaks also allowed Mr. Bates time managing his son, which she found particularly important.
"He isn't harsh with the child?" Elsie asked after she'd voiced her reasoning aloud, already disbelieving such a thing to be possible.
"Oh no, of course not," Anna answered. "But now that little John has begun walking and talking, Mister Bates can interact with him more. They get along quite well."
While her husband rarely picked the boy up as Anna still did, John Junior did not seem to mind. He toddled next to his father, grasping a handful of the tall man's trousers for balance as he kept pace with him. Walking with Mr. Bates was one of the only times the child ever slowed down.
"Mister Carson is certainly smitten with the boy," Elsie observed. "Every time you bring him for a visit, that's all he talks about for days."
Anna smiled but looked at her friend with bemusement. "I can't picture him so enamored with a child. It always seems like he barely tolerates him when we're here."
Indeed, Elsie would have to agree that when Anna brought the boy by, her husband rarely showed his true interest. But on the occasional day when she needed the older couple to look after little John for a few hours, then Mr. Carson's true nature was revealed. Of course, it would be wrong to tell Anna about him singing to the boy in his low, deep tones, or about how he would carry him about the house and tell him stories from British history. Instead, all she said was, "He cares for the boy very much. Perhaps as much as he cares for Lady Mary."
"Surely not," Anna scoffed, and both women laughed. The former butler's partiality to Mary Crawley was legendary. But with a sigh, she allowed her countenance to reveal a worry and her real reason for the day's visit.
"What is it?" Elsie prompted.
"It's Mister Bates," she fretted softly. "He's been unusually quiet lately. You know I don't like to press him, but I do wonder if it is something he'd rather not share with me. He so hates for me to worry."
The older woman understood completely. She and Mr. Bates were sometimes co-conspirators in matters they kept secret from Anna so she wouldn't have to worry. Just a few months earlier, she and Mr. Carson had advanced Mr. Bates a loan for repair of the roof of the hotel which he did not wish Anna to know about. Thankfully, Mr. Bates had been able to repay it since, but still... Elsie hated keeping secrets from her friend.
"Perhaps Mister Carson could talk to him?" Anna suggested. "I have a feeling it might be something he could only share with another man. Perhaps I could send Mister Bates over for tea tomorrow?"
Else very much doubted that Mr. Bates would open up to anyone besides his wife, but she responded, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see what comes of it."
They passed the rest of their visit with friendly discussion and exchange of town gossip. Elsie occasionally let slip a remark on married life and the parts of it she'd never thought to anticipate. "Such as sharing a bedroom," she said casually. "I was still a girl when my sister and I last shared a room."
"Never when you were a housemaid?" Anna asked.
"That was many years ago. And I managed to always have a little closet of my own to sleep in."
Smirking at her friend, Anna said, "Then you're lucky. I always had to share, up until Mr. Bates and I got married, and even after that until I became a proper lady's maid. In fact, except during those times we were apart, I've always been used to being in a room with someone else. I find I can't sleep if I don't have someone's heartbeat close by."
"A heartbeat, I could stand," Elsie said, straight backed. "The snoring is what I find the most trying."
Giggling at the confidence, Anna observed, "I became used to that right away."
"Well, you were always a sound sleeper, as I recall. Daisy had to come get me a few times when she couldn't wake you."
"Poor Daisy..."
"Poor Daisy my eye," the other woman harrumphed. "She'll inherit Mister Mason's farm and be better off than all of us combined. Not that she doesn't deserve it, poor girl."
They both went quiet for a moment as their thoughts so obviously turned in the same direction. Her tone soft and sad, Anna asked, "Do you think Mrs. Patmore will recover?"
The cook had suffered from a stroke a few months previous, and while they'd been to see her since, she had made little progress. "Only time will tell," Elsie intoned. Frowning, she admitted, "I feel guilty, being so far away. I should like to see her more often."
After her collapse in the kitchen at Downton and being treated at the clinic, Mrs. Patmore had been sent to her sister's home so she could have proper care from family. But the distance made popping over for tea on an afternoon much more difficult. Daisy still made the trip several times a week, and the decline in health of the older woman clearly tore at her.
"I'm sure Mrs. Patmore understands," Anna said softly, the statement more to assuage the other woman's feelings than having any special insight. In an attempt to move the topic back to something more light, she asked, "Well, other than the snoring and sharing a room, how do you enjoy being married? It must be nearly a year for you and Mister Carson, soon."
"A year next Tuesday," she agreed, knowing the date off the top of her head. Wistfully, she said, "And it is nice. I never thought he'd ask me, honestly. And then we decided to wait until we retired..."
Nodding knowingly, the younger woman said, "Waiting is certainly the hardest part."
Elsie frowned. "Oh, I shouldn't go on about myself, not when you and Mister Bates had such a difficult time of it."
But Anna was already shaking her head. "But we got through it all, Mrs. Hughes." She colored, correcting herself, "Mrs. Carson, I mean."
"I do wish you'd call me Elsie," she responded. "I feel like you're my own daughter. And perhaps if Mister Carson weren't the only one to use my Christian name, it wouldn't sound so strange hearing it."
The former lady's maid narrowed her eyes for a moment before letting the name slip off her tongue. "Elsie." She grimaced as though she'd tasted something especially tart. "No, I can't do it, Mrs. Hugh- er, Mrs. Carson."
She allowed herself another nervous giggle at slipping yet again. "I'm so sorry. It just sounds so foreign trying to call you something different after all these years. I even have trouble with 'Mrs. Carson'."
"I suppose you're right," Elsie agreed. "Goodness knows none of us could call you Bates after you'd been Anna for so long."
"It would have been odd," she agreed.
With a glance at the clock on the mantle, Anna noticed the time had quite gotten away from her. "I should head back to the hotel," she said. "The new man we hired will be getting off soon and I hate leaving Mister Bates there with John by himself if anyone comes in."
Standing to walk her guest to the parlor door, Elsie said, "I do hope you'll stop by again soon. And feel free to send Mister Bates over for tea tomorrow so he can chat with Mister Carson. I don't know if it will do any good, but I suppose you never know."
They smiled as Anna departed and Elsie promised to call on her before too long.
"Why should I go see Mister Carson?"
The question was tinged with a quiet curiosity, as Bates genuinely did not understand his wife's request.
Anna shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice," she stated. "You have so few friends..."
In point of fact, he had no real 'friends,' and hadn't had any since they'd both left service to buy their hotel. Were he completely honest, he'd been without a friend besides his wife ever since Lord Grantham's unfortunate death. While the Earl's health had always seemed robust, he'd quite unexpectedly succumbed to a heart attack one day on the train home from London. Anna knew her husband's grief was still a bit raw even as years had since passed.
Bates smiled kindly at his wife and teased, "Why do I need friends if I have you?"
"No reason," she answered, but he could tell something still ate at her. He waited until she went on, "I just thought... you might need someone to talk to you."
"About what?"
"About... whatever you might not want to discuss with me."
The words came out in a guilty rush, and Anna looked away. Bates listened for a moment to ensure their son was still playing quietly in his room. The sound of childish noises and the young boy's excited chatter assured him that they had some moments to themselves. Lowering himself onto the bed next to her, he asked, "And what do you think I cannot discuss with you?" His forehead wrinkled in genuine concern. "Do you believe I'm keeping secrets?"
"Not secrets," she assured him. "But I know there are things you keep to yourself, things you do not like to share with me."
He could not contradict her, not with his guilt of taking out a secret loan from the Carsons for roof repairs still hanging on his conscience. Worrying her was the last thing he wanted, and in this instance, it would have been for nothing as he'd already worked out the financial arrangements and paid everything back with interest.
"You are my confidant, Anna," he told her. "I know I may not share everything. But you will always know more of me than any other person."
Her answering smile was all the reassurance he needed that she believed the truth he'd spoken. But he still sensed something not quite at ease with her, as though there was something in her request she'd left purposely unspoken.
With a sigh, Bates stated, "But if you wish for me to pay a visit to Mister Carson, I will do so. For you."
"Thank you for humoring me," she said immediately, and he smiled as she leaned into his shoulder playfully. He raised an eyebrow at her, but before either could say more, their room was invaded by a blond-haired toddler with a toy in each hand. He came to an abrupt stop as his parents' feet.
"Papa, vroom," little John said, holding out one of the toy cars he'd received for his second birthday. The polished wood had been painted bright colors.
Smiling as he accepted the child's offering, Bates agreed, "Vroom."
The clock on the mantle ticked impossibly loud in the Carsons' parlor as the two men sat quietly, each showing an exorbitant amount of interest in his cup of tea. Carson stirred his slowly, clockwise, watching the dark liquid swirl in the cup as though it were the most fascinating of occupations. Across from him, Bates shifted uncomfortably as he took another sip of the substance before examining the porcelain in search of a more elaborate understanding of the pattern painted there.
Finally, some minutes later, when the silence had drug on impossibly long, Bates asked, "And do you hear from Lady Mary often?"
Eager for a topic to break the awkwardness, Mr. Carson said, "From time to time."
But there was no follow up from either man, and the quiet once gain settled between them. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but they were both aware of it. Conscious that it was his turn to say something, the former butler intoned quietly, "And your boy... he's well, I hope?"
"He is, thank you."
Carson nodded and both men sipped at their tea.
The clock ticked on, reminding them both of how impossibly long an hour could be.
"And how was your tea with Mister Bates?" Elsie asked her husband brightly as she closed the warddrobe door of their bedroom, having hung up her dress after changing into a nightgown. Already in bed with a book open and a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, Mr. Carson glanced over the rims at her.
"It was actually rather enjoyable."
His wife's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh?" she asked.
"I've always had a great deal of respect for Mister Bates, you know," he explained to her.
"But what ever did you find to talk about?"
Sounding rather offended at the insinuation, Mr. Carson answered with reserved indignation, "Quite a lot. We discussed Lady Mary and young John. We talked about how business is going at the hotel, and even politics."
Elsie asked, "Really? You talked about politics?"
Bates shrugged as he answered his wife, "Mister Carson has always been conservative, so it makes no difference to me. It is actually nice to hear another point of view."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached down to remove his slippers before pulling off his robe and laying it across a nearby chair.
Smiling at him kindly as he pulled back the covers to crawl in beside her, Anna remarked, "One not unlike his Lordship's?"
Pausing, Bates looking at her for several seconds before he gave an answering smile. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but I suppose."
"He is rather a quiet man, but he has good insights," Carson said, setting his book aside so he could more properly focus on his wife. They had only been married for a year, but it still felt completely natural that they share a bed. He wondered how he'd ever done without her reassuring presence by his side in sleep for so many decades before.
"So you two had a nice visit?" she summed up.
Nodding thoughtfully, he said, "We did. He invited me to come 'round to the hotel next week to see the work he's been having done on some of the rooms."
"Oh, well that's nice."
"Mister Carson? Is coming here?" Anna repeated. "By himself, without Mrs. Hughes?"
"Mrs. Carson, you mean?" he teased before narrowing his eyes in confusion. "Is there some reason he shouldn't?"
Her face opened up as she shook her head slowly. "No, of course not. I just never thought... I don't know what I thought."
Knowingly, Bates asked, "You thought we wouldn't have anything to talk about. Then why did you suggest I pay him a visit?"
Anna paused for a second, mouth open, before responding, "I..."
She'd thought that speaking with another man might allow her husband to get off his chest whatever had been bothering him of late. He did not share everything with her, she knew, but Anna worried about him keeping so much bottled up within himself. And Mr. Carson did have broad shoulders.
He turned off the light just before she responded, "I thought you probably miss his Lordship. I know Mister Carson isn't a substitute, but he knew him as well."
Her husband said nothing at first, and in the darkness she could not make out his reaction. But then the bed shifted and she felt him pull her against his chest and wrap his arm around her back. Even in the ordinary confines of their shared bed, they fit together so perfectly.
"You needn't worry about me, Anna," he told her, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against her ear. She felt as much as heard the reassuring sound of his heart.
She snorted at his comment before informing him, "Worrying about you is my privilege, and I have no intention of giving it up."
But as they fell asleep together, their son dreaming in his bed just down the hall, for a time Anna did not worry about anything at all.
The next week brought Mr. Carson's promised visit to the hotel. He arrived promptly at the appointed hour dressed smartly in a charcoal suit, overcoat, and bowler hat. "Mister Bates," he said, shaking the other man's hand.
Anna was on her way out with the couple's son. Little John had just woken from a nap, she held him in her arms. For once, he was not wiggling to be let down but allowed his head to rest on her shoulder as he stared at his father's visitor with sleepy eyes.
"Hello, young Master John," Carson greeted the child fondly.
"Miss'r Cars'," he responded in the abbreviated language of a two-year-old.
"Yes, that's Mister Carson," Anna confirmed, and the boy hummed in quiet approval. She glanced at Mr. Bates. "I shouldn't be gone for long. I just need to run to the market and pick up a few things."
He nodded. "We'll be fine. Peter is watching the front and Ellen is in the back making up rooms."
His wife smiled at him and Mr. Carson both before she left them to themselves. John Junior gave a small wave as they departed.
The two men walked through the front sitting room to a small but snug dining room. A stout wood table took up most of the space, but it had enough chairs to accommodate their guests even when the hotel was full.
"I didn't know you'd hired a man for the front," Mr. Carson noted, obviously impressed.
"Anna thought it advisable, and I have to agree with her. Neither of us are getting any younger. Peter comes in before luncheon and stays through dinner, so having the extra help is nice."
Bates showed him through through the hotel, pointing out several rooms he planned to renovate for a more modern look. Saying little as they toured the building, Mr. Carson followed and nodded as Bates led him to the back hall, where the rooms twisted off to one side. The rear door of the hotel led out onto a small porch, and beyond that was a nice bit of yard.
"How do you get on with the boarding house?" he asked his guest.
Carson said, "Oh, well enough, I'd say. We have two boarders at the moment, so both spare rooms are full. They are young men working in the shops in town, but I expect one of them to settle down before long."
They had never discussed that the Bateses' hotel was technically in competition with the Carson boarding house, but ultimately, it did not matter much. Those who sought long term accommodations were better served seeking out Mr. Carson, whereas only those passing through or on holiday stayed at the hotel.
The two men chatted amicably about their business affairs, neither betraying too much nor being stingy with information. After quite a bit of contemplated thought, Carson suggested that rather than renovate the existing rooms, Bates might consider adding additional rooms to the hotel, considering what a good business it did in the summer. Bates considered the possibility, nodding his head as he thought about the expense.
"You'll need investors, I imagine," the older man stated, getting to the heart of the matter.
"You're correct. That would be an ambitious move."
Carson said stiffly, "I'm sure... arrangements could be made."
Neither man liked talking about money. Bates recalled how uncomfortable the other man had been when he'd tried to work out the details of the private loan he'd taken from the Carsons. In the end, he'd worked out most of the specifics with Mrs. Carson, with her husband happy to hand off the duty. This time, Bates realized he did not need to ask, and the other man did not need to offer. It was simply an unspoken agreement forged from years of having worked together, side by side, with minimal discussion.
But the former butler surprised him by nodding as he stared with bright, enthusiastic eyes at the open yard. "I'll speak with Mrs. Carson, of course, but I think a mutually beneficial arrangement could be reached."
Bates said, "Thank you, Mister Carson."
They stood stoically together for a time, each absorbed in thoughts and plans. The day was fine out, with a brisk chill but no wind to stir it up. With luck, there would be no rain before the weekend.
Finally, as Carson inclined his head and seemed ready to go back inside the hotel, the other man looked at him.
"Do you ever miss it?" Mr. Bates asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.
He did not need to elaborate, not to this man. Managing their own affairs and businesses was a different sort of life, but they'd both spent years in service, an occupation which could not be rivaled by entrepreneurship. And it was not just the house or the family, but the style of living which was now different. Serving Earls and Dukes and Countesses lent a glamour and sheen to an otherwise ordinary existence, turning brass to gold. Now that life was over.
Mr. Carson did not answer his query, not right away. Instead, he let seconds tick by as he met the other man's eyes. Finally, he stated with absolute sincerity, "I miss it every day, Mister Bates. Every single day."
fin