Click
It was John Bates' favorite sound. The turning of the little lock that kept away the rest of the world.
Every night when he crossed the threshold of their cottage, his and Anna's home, it was a moment he savored. For six or seven or (on a rare and glorious occasion) eight hours, they were away from nagging bells, near constant duties, and the general hustle and bustle of their working world. But here all was still, their neighbors long since sleeping.
The calm took some getting used to. It was a different sort of quiet from the servant's quarters at the big house. The physical demands of being in service usually meant the maids, hall boys and footmen would fall into bed and nearly immediate sleep. But the cottage was not only quiet, it had an added air of peacefulness.
There was no sense of urgency here, no list of things that must to be tended to, no chore that couldn't be left until tomorrow. Mrs. Hughes might be shocked to find that Anna sometimes left the dirty breakfast dishes on the table or that sheets occasionally remained crumpled on the bed. (Some blissful mornings, they were more crumpled than others.) The mere fact that they could choose to do, or not do, was a pleasure for two people who had spent the greater part of their lives in service.
So perhaps they would come home to find plates covered with toast crumbs waiting for them. Although if truth be told, that would be a rare day. Anna took great pride in being the keeper of her own little house, sometimes she even nipped back home for a half hour during the day to tidy up. Because when they walked in the door after a long day of dressing and mending and undressing and brushing and polishing, what they both wanted were the moments of quiet. Of stillness. Of each other.
Their relationship had been built on quiet moments. Moonlit whispers in the courtyard. Hands held under the servants' hall table. Even the agony of their eyes locked on each other over a hushed courtroom. Certainly they reveled in their newfound freedom to talk about anything and everything as they strolled home each night, but they still savored the peace of their cottage.
So it was on this night. They had talked of the day's events as they covered the well-worn path to the cottages. Anna had a challenge getting the fit just right on Lady Mary's latest chemise. John spoke of his tedious day in the attics, searching out some long-forgotten tweeds. But as they neared home, the toils of the day started slipping away and they found neither of them had much to say the last few minutes of the walk.
John fished out his key to their front door and they slipped inside. Coats and hats were hung on the hall tree. Anna kicked off her shoes and heard her husband refasten the lock from the inside.
Click
It was Anna Bates' favorite sound, too.