So it was Green after all. His instincts were right and his suspicions were well founded. It took every ounce of control to stop himself from confronting that bastard at the staff room table. That man, no he could not say man, no he was no man he was vermin, the lowest of the low, sat opposite him and wife talking glibly about that fateful day. Only the presence of Anna sitting next to him, subdued and drawn managed to keep him seated. He could really kick himself. It was his fault. No this was not a moral position, he should have been alert. He had seen from the start the type of vermin this Green was. He had met his type in prison a few times. Outwardly charming but with an emptiness in the eyes, always waiting to strike when their prey was unguarded. Preying for the fun of it, the thrill of it. They were the most dangerous ones, they could catch you unawares and revel in your suffering. He saw Green smirking at him and trying to catch Anna's eyes. How dare he? How dare this low life even touch a strand of Anna's hair let alone violate her. It was his fault, he should have done something to stop it. He should have been more on guard.
Downton was a genteel house and not a prison. There were rules and people milling around. It had lulled him into a false sense of security. He had never imagined that it could ever be an unsafe place. Anna should have been safe there, no one should have attacked her there. But this beast was unlike anyone else, it was feral and calculating. It had waited for its chance and struck.
He wanted to beat up Green, push him to the floor and trample on his genitals and his poisonous little organ with which he had defiled his wife. Perhaps Green took him for a sap because of his cane and his polite manner. He had attacked Anna, and by extension attacked his masculinity. Did the vermin not realise that he would hunt him down and strike him dead? He would take a rifle from his Lordship's arsenal and go to London and hold it on his forehead right between his eyes. He would give him a moment to contemplate his wrongdoing before shooting him point blank. His fingers curled up, he could feel his face hardening. This needed to stop, this revenge, this bloodshed was just a fantasy. He took a few deep breaths and pushed his head back into his pillow.
Anna had entered the room and was silently undressing. It was not a cold night, yet he could see her shivering and trying to keep her nerves in check. She had recovered a bit from her ordeal in the last few weeks and he had begun to see a glimpse of his old Anna back. But today she was shaken, when she saw that beast return. Mrs. Hughes was practically bristling with hostility. He should have been vigilant and been on guard. A part of him, a small part of him was angry with Anna, she should have come to him first. But that was just vanity. For all her suffering and abasement, her first thoughts were about him, his welfare and his life. How could he have doubted her love and not sensed the trauma she was going through. Suddenly he felt an onrush of tears in his eyes and quickly caught them before they could fall down his cheeks. He watched as Anna swiftly put her night gown on top but not before he saw the fading welts in her thigh. Her physical scars would heal but her mental ones needed longer to fade.
Since the day he had found out and comforted her, she had shown him all the bruises and blows on her body. She had let him tend to her and he was relieved that she had not shut herself away from him. She had needed his strength. They had to pretend that there was no crime and keep working as normal, while her attacker sat opposite them facing no consequences, free to attack again. He saw her tremble again and called out to her, "Come here, darling,". Anna mustered a smile and climbed their bed and rested her head on his chest. There were nights of bliss since his release and often they would lie in each others arms just silently enjoying the warmth, the intimacy. He could feel the warmth and intimacy again, but also her fear. He soothed her, stroked her back and hair and felt her relax into him. He was her safety net and he could not let her down again. Both Lady Mary and Mrs Hughes thought he felt guilty for not being with Anna and that it was not his fault. But he knew better, he had recognized Green for what he was; a feral predator and yet he never contemplated that he would strike so close to home. He had been trained a soldier and told to watch out for decoys and dangers in seemingly peaceful terrains. He would be on his guard and keep his wits about him. That is how he had made it back alive from the Boer war. Yet in the cosy domesticity of Downton, he had allowed himself to relax and grow complacent and Anna had paid the price.
His eyes looked down at his wife lying in his arms and he marveled at her ability to be open to him again and trust him with her pain. Anna had always been an open book, her emotions and feelings writ large on the surface. Now she had to hide parts of her pain to protect him. She was scared not just of Green but also of what John would do to Green. He could not let her down and leave her alone again. She was fragile now, she needed him more than ever. No he would not do anything foolish, however satisfying it was to consider it. But he could not let the vermin thrive either. He gently took her in his arms and lowered her to her pillow and arranged the blanket around her. Seeing her settled, he took the bedside lamp and made his way to their small bureau desk at the side of the room. He took out the paper sheaf and inked his nib.
They made their way back home a bit earlier than usual. Since his Lordship was in America, John's duties had halved. Today Anna was again a bit pensive and on edge. He could feel the tension in her body and he felt it in himself too. She was going to London in the afternoon with Lady Mary for an overnight visit. There was no chance of her seeing Green in Lady Rosamund's house, he was sure Lady Mary would see to that. Still he felt very wary of letting her go to London without him. She would be in the same city, the same borough just a few miles from her attacker. How many more times would she have to come face to face with him? He made his mind up, this had to end and tomorrow and he would ensure that it did.
The next morning he feigned a cheerful countenance and requested Mr Carson leave to visit York. The butler had not been happy with him not accompanying his Lordship. It did not sit right with him, someday John hoped he could confide in him. He knew Mr Carson would be deeply affected if he learned about Anna's ordeal Beneath that stern, officious exterior was the heart of a kind man, a just man. Being a fair man, he allowed John to leave for York.
The entire journey he could feel his heart beating loudly and wondered if others nearby could hear it booming. He clasped his hands together to stop it shaking. It was the right thing and it needed to be done. The coach journey ended in the market and he quickly made his way past the teeming stalls and stands and then beyond a couple of small streets and all of sudden he was away from the bustle in a quiet side street. At the end of the street was 'The Pig's Head' pub with the picture of a head of a pig at the end of a spear. He swallowed a few gulps of air and made his way to the pub. As expected, it was not open as yet. He walked past the main door and turned the corner and approached the back gate to enter the compound of the pub. Slowly he opened it and there was Booney, David Boon standing amongst the barrels waiting for him.
Booney looked just as he did all those years ago, except with a few more lines on his face, his hair now grizzled and thinner. But he had the same hungry, hard sinewy look. This was not your jolly pub landlord, but one whom you knew meant business. He had not seen him for nearly fifteen years. They had met in London when John was still serving in the regiment. Booney's cousin, Paul Marriner had been one of the chaps John went drinking with and they would often end up in the pub where Booney was working behind the bar. It was a rough pub and Booney was not just a mere bar help. He had his hands in many pies and most of them were murky businesses. But there was a honesty about him, a certain uprightness and decency which and he and John became friends of sorts. Not that Booney was the friendly type, but he and John had got along. He was the man you went to when you needed help in less than legal situations.
But things had gotten heated in London and Booney had fled to Yorkshire to this quiet pub, while John was imprisoned for stealing the regimental silver. They had lost touch for many years. That is until a couple of years ago, when his murder conviction had made the news. David had recognized John and got a message through to him in jail using a local accomplice. He had offered to make things a bit more comfortable inside for him, but John had not taken up his offer. But he was touched, this was Booney's way of showing solidarity.
Since his release from prison, John had been so caught up in the joys of a life of freedom and Anna, that he had not really sought any more friendship or companionship from others. He had briefly met Booney once on a trip to York when he was carrying out a few errands for his Lordship. Booney was a man of few words, but it was good to meet him again. John had not expected that they would fall back into a close friendship. But when this business with Green erupted, he was the first person he could think off. Booney would know people who could do the business for him. He would be discreet and professional. And he was. He had not asked many questions except made inquiries for John. The task could be done neatly and without trace for a stiff fee. There would be no mess, no loose ends, just an unfortunate everyday accident. John had brought the money along and handed it over. Booney, swiftly and efficiently counted it and put it away. "I will call him now and ask him to ...," he waited to see if John had any lingering doubts. John merely nodded. "Come back in the evening after six," and he walked back into the pub.. John felt a shiver in his spine as he turned to leave.
In a few minutes he was back in the market square. He tried to go from stall to stall hoping to distract himself. Perhaps, Anna might like a new bag. Or perhaps some crisp apples. There was some chestnuts in the next stall. His mind was racing. He wanted to strangle Green with his own hands. He wanted to torture him so badly that he would beg for death. He could feel his face hardening and his bile rising as he tried to rid these thoughts. He was here to have a good time in York. There was a nice inn at the other end of the market square. Perhaps some Shepherd's pie there, which was even better than some of Mrs Patmore's pies He could barely eat a bite, but he forced himself to while making some small talk with the bar hands. They were complaining about the bright autumn weather and how it kept the punters away. John chatted about his life in Downton and other local matters. More people joined in the chat. The atmosphere was very convivial. He was never the most social of men, but he had often enjoyed chatting in the warm atmosphere of the inn. It reminded him of his drinking days. But today he wanted to be alone. Yet he forced himself to sip his beer and chat with more of the locals. It would not do him any harm if they remembered him, in case he needed someone to vouch for him.
By the time he was out of the inn, it was just past two. He still had time to kill, he went over to the station street. There were a few nice shops there, one selling some baubles and jewelery. Perhaps he could buy something for Anna. He was not a big one for gifts, as they were both sensible and frugal with money. But today was different. He wanted to get her something. But everything looked so shiny and garish, not like his Anna. He looked around till his eyes were caught by a tiny brooch studded with seed pearls in the shape of a crescent moon set in ebony, emerging from the darkness. It seemed right for Anna, it was not loud but was elegant, feminine just like her. It was not very expensive either. She would like it. There was more time to kill and he went to his favourite bookshop. It was easy to while away hours there reading and browsing books. The shop owner never seemed to mind and was often engrossed behind a book himself. John liked that about him. But his restlessness followed him there. He forced himself to look at the shelves and thumb a few books. It was close to 6 pm. He bought a volume of Kipling poems, just to help the shop owner stay in business and chatted awhile with him too. Then he made his way to 'The Pig's Head'. The main door was open for business and a handful of people were already there ready to begin a long evening of drinking.
John went to the bar and ordered a Murphy's stout. Booney ignored him as the other barman served him. Soon the barman went inside to collect a new barrel and Booney walked past John and whispered, "It's done". A mixture of anger, righteousness, happiness even rose in John. Anna no longer needed to face the vermin. The sewer rat was exterminated. He finished his pint and quickly left without a backward glance, straight to the coach stop. His coach was already waiting for him and he got a seat and settled to read some Kipling. The words were floating on the page but his mind could not grasp them. He felt his anger rising and knew that this would likely not slake his thirst for revenge. But Anna needed him now more than ever and if that meant not killing Green with his bare hands then it was the right thing. Besides he was selfish and he so wanted this life with Anna which he had dreamed about for years. He could not give it up now even to avenge her violation. She would recover, because she was strong, their love was strong and she would not allow this creature to ruin her. He has crushed her spirit but could not vanquish it.
He stopped by at Downton for a minute or two to show his face but could not bear staying for long. He quickly said his good byes before Mrs Hughes or Mr Carson could engage him in the usual chit chat. He made his way home to the now empty cottage, with smells and little reminders of Anna at every nook. It astonished him as he rested in his bed, as a profound sense of peace washed over him. The turmoil of not knowing, then knowing and then plotting his retribution had taken captive his mind, day and night for weeks now. But now he felt some tranquility, Anna was safe from the rat. But the road to recovery was still long and arduous. They were bruised but not broken. They would heal from this. But one thing was for sure, John would never let his guard down again.