Anna walked along, listening to the hum of the early morning and relishing the coolness of the dew that would burn away in mere hours. Her skirt rustled the grass and left water droplets dotting fabric and skin alike. Bending down to move a large branch from the path, she heard a voice and turned her head up to see who spoke.
A man with a slight limp worked over to her from the other end of the path and held out his hand. "I'll take that out of your way miss."
"It's in no one's way." Anna lifted the branch, "Just happened to fall where people might want to go."
"Then I'll put it somewhere it can do good now."
"Like a fire pile?"
"We all need to keep warm somehow." He hefted the branch, "Although, now that you mention it, this is a rather stout piece of wood. I could do something with this."
"Are you a wood carver?"
"Of a sort. I passed a lot of time with whittling and carving in the war." He wiped his hand on his jean trousers and extended it to her. "John Bates. I'm the gardener here."
"Anna Smith, the new nanny."
"Mrs. Crawley must be pleased she found herself a British nanny."
"She was rather interested in my nationality." Anna shrugged, "I find it's the least interesting part of my personality but I guess we've all got our little quirks."
"We do." He nodded, "Well, Ms. Smith, I'd best get on or I'll be sweating a horrible storm by noon when the humidity and the heat set in."
As Mr. Bates turned to walk away she called after him, "You're not from here either are you?"
"No ma'am. I'm from Ireland by way of London."
Anna hurried to catch up with him, keeping pace as they took the path from whence he had come to a grouping of outbuildings. They nestled in a grove of trees that hung strands of a wisping vine from branches that grew like tentacles from the trunks. She paused, looking up in awe at them before turning back to John.
"Would you say that's an interesting thing about you?"
"What?"
"You being Irish by way of London." Anna took a step back to avoid the trail of the branch. "There's a story there I'm sure."
"You're right about that. There is a story there and it is an interesting thing about me but, like you, it's not nearly the most interesting thing."
"Then what is your most interesting quality?"
He smiled, "I guess, if you're up for it, that'll be for you to discover for yourself."
"You'd make it a mystery?"
"All the best things in life are mysteries, ma'am."
"It's 'miss', not 'ma'am as I'm…" Anna bit back, "I'm not married."
"More shame on the men who missed the chance."
Anna snorted her own laugh, shifting through the taller grass to allow him to move the stout branch against the wall of one of the buildings that, to her eyes, was indistinguishable from the others. "They didn't think so. Most of the men I met were either looking for someone to clean their house or just share their bed for the night."
"And you weren't going to put up with either?" John took out a set of keys and unlocked the door.
"Not for them. I'd like to do both for someone who sees those are also not the only things that define me."
"As well as not being the most interesting things about you?" John winked at her and pushed the double doors back to pull the branch inside.
Anna followed him, pausing at the door and marveling at the interior. Figurines, furniture, and half-finished works covered every surface and stacked over shelves that lined the walls. Carved model planes hung from the ceiling, fumes from drying paint wafting about as the wind whipped into the stuffy shed. They swung on their strings and led Anna to investigate the other works dangling from the ceiling as evidence of the craftsman before her.
John shifted the branch toward a workbench in the rear of the building and laid it diagonally between the bench and the floor before reaching over to grab a hand axe. With three swift strokes he cut through the branch to leave two equal pieces tumbling to the floor. The sound roused Anna from her reverie and she pulled her hand back, about to touch one of the hanging planes.
John dipped down, grimacing as his right leg contorted slightly, and retrieved the pieces to place on his bench. He turned back to Anna and nodded at the room. "Even this isn't the most interesting thing about me."
"They're beautiful." Anna craned her neck back to look at all the pieces. "I remember seeing these streaking across the sky during the war."
"Where were you, when the war broke out?"
Anna did not look over at him, her whole body drawing inward. "I was on Guernsey. Traveled there for a bit of holiday and then couldn't get off in time during the evacuation." She swallowed and turned to him, "You?"
"India." He shrugged, "Had a time of it with my unit."
"Is that how you got that?" Anna pointed to his leg as John eased himself onto a stool. "Not that it's any of my business-"
"We're just making conversation." John held up a hand, smiling at her. "And I got this building a railroad in Thailand actually. There's a bridge there that is held together with nails and a bit of my blood. Enough to make it a near relative I think."
"You helped build the River Kwai Bridge?"
John nodded, "They needed me because I was an engineer who spoke Japanese well enough to understand and be understood."
"And now you're a gardener?"
"It's a simpler life, after what I lived, and I think it's a better life for me." John motioned around him, "And it gives me time to exercise my craft in a different way. A less… violent way."
"Do you…" Anna wrapped her arms over herself, "Do you get night terrors?"
"I used to but I haven't in at least a year." John stood again, coming toward the door and pulling a stick from a barrel there. "I carved these every time I had one though so you can see how many times I work up in a sweat. It was the only calming activity that helped me go back to sleep. Took over my mind and drove the nightmares away."
Anna came around the door and noted at least four barrels full of intricately carved canes. Her fingers touched over one, drawing it out enough to trace the Celtic knots interlocking over its four-foot length. "How long did they take you?"
"Depends on how nice they are." John held up the one in his hand. "A month."
"And this one?" Anna tapped hers against her open palm, "How long for this?"
"That was a year." He traced his finger along the intricate pattern. "The focus helped calm my mind."
"Too bad I've no skills like that." Anna slotted the cane back into her barrel. "My demons are a bit more… persistent."
"I heard a bit about what happened to the Islands." John leaned on his cane, escorting Anna from the shed and locking it behind him. When she frowned he tipped his head toward it. "Young Master George likes to try and sneak in there to get a look at the new toys he'll be getting on his birthday."
"Do you sell your work?"
"Most of it. I take commissions, hence the furniture in there, and I've got a partnership with a few of the shops in town. They're the ones who take the figurines and most of the toys. But a few of them I make special for the children of the house." John used the cane to even his stride and Anna could not help but notice how it kept them walking side-by-side. "They deserve something special I think."
"I do too." Anna shook her head, "I think they're driving their poor mother a bit mad."
"It's difficult for her." John conceded, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the back of his neck and then mop at his forehead. "She's taken on the care of three children, two of them not her own, and if that wasn't trial enough she's got to do it alone."
"What do you know about the family?"
"I worked for Lady Mary's father, before the war, when he was stationed in India." John's face fell, "He and I were in the same prisoner-of-war camp with the Japanese but he… he didn't make it. They took him from my division, since he didn't have the skills they needed, and forced him to the Philippines. He died in the Bataan Death March."
"I'm so sorry." Anna covered her mouth, "I heard rumors but I thought-"
"It's a reminder of how we might play at war being for gentlemen but the brutal reality is that we're all monsters."
"I don't know if that's true." Anna kicked at the grass. "I think we're all trying to find out who we are and sometimes we find out that some people decided to be monsters."
"What makes you say that?"
"I don't think there's a child on the face of the earth whose mother looked at it and said, 'I birthed a monster'."
"I'm sure that the mother of Mary Ann Cotton would disagree."
Anna stopped, "I guess there are some exceptions but I feel that people aren't monsters by nature but by choice. When given the decision to turn to the darkness because of the cruelty of the world or the cruelty of man some people succumb to it. They surrender because it's easier than fighting."
John nodded, "I did once hear a story where a priest spoke to an angel and the angel pointed to two men and asked the priest, 'Which of them do you think is more evil?' The priest replied that he had no idea for neither man ever came to him for confession. Then the angel brushed his hand over the priest's eyes and said, 'Now what do you think?' Now the priest could see that one man held a demon on his shoulders while the other struggled under the weight of seven. So the priest pointed to the second man and said, 'Him of course, for he bears seven demon spirits.' But the angel just shook his head and told the priest, 'He bears the weight of seven demons because that is how many it took to get him to submit. The other man gave in after just one'."
They stood in silence a moment before Anna spoke, "I think I met the kind of men who submitted to one demon."
"I think I've met them too." John pulled up his wrist and whistled. "I'd best get on since the beds don't weed themselves."
"I'm sorry to've kept you." Anna flustered, "I should let you get on."
"It was a pleasure to meet you Ms. Smith." John offered her his hand again, "And I hope to see more of you in the garden. I need someone to appreciate it."
"I'm sure I'll get the children out as soon as I can since they don't seem the type to enjoy the indoors."
"Master George isn't one for desks and lessons but he's sharp." John pointed toward the windows as he spoke. "Miss Marigold is very studious and she almost never goes anywhere without at least one book tucked at her side. Be aware she'll slip it into the pages of the readers you'll give her."
"And Miss Sybbie? Do you have a way for me to get around her tricks?"
"She's sincere and likes to daydream. Since she's the one who either pushes or pulls her cousins along it can be a bit… tiresome for her. She just likes to know that she's recognized since it's so easy to forget her."
"You know a lot about them."
"I've worked here a year and watched a succession of nannies that didn't understand these children come and go in a flash." John took a deep breath, "Those children need something to give them hope since Lady Mary's lost hers."
"Because of the war?"
"That and everything else. Her husband died at the Bulge, her sister's been in Germany for two years trying to recover Miss Marigold's father and refuses to believe he's dead. Miss Sybbie's father brought her here and said he would return when he settled in Boston with a cousin but he's not been back to visit in nine months. No letters, no calls, and no visits."
"That's horrible."
"Miss Sybbie's mother died in childbirth and it's difficult for her father to look at her and not see the woman he loved." John led Anna back toward the house, following a path trod by the feet going to the house from the outbuildings. "And since Lady Mary's father died in the war it left her son as the heir to the estate but it'd already been sold off as a ladies' college so there's nothing for her to do but keep a stiff upper lip."
"What of her mother?"
"She's in New York caring for her own dying mother." John craned his head back to look over the massive, white plantation style house. "Lady Mary's hanging on by a thread to keep the last vestiges of her family together and it's difficult."
"What could be worse than seeing the future of your house and realizing it'll die with you?" Anna hung her head, "It's like watching something burn and knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it."
"You never know." John let out a breath, "They're discovering new things everyday and they say the world's changing."
"It is changing but I don't know if that's always a good thing."
"All things change, Ms. Smith." John guided them along to the next tree, sounds from the house alerting them to the waking of the others. "Our duty is to learn to change with them."
"If only we had that kind of trust." Anna waved her hand toward the tree that towered over their heads. "To be as constant as this tree."
"It's no more constant than you or I and it's subject to the whims and whips of the world like we are. It's just harder to see." John rubbed a hand over the trunk. "If it could speak just imagine what it would tell us."
"A great deal I suspect." Anna paused, taking in the shade provided by the tentacle branches. "What kind of tree is this anyway? I've never seen anything like it and it both fascinates and terrifies me."
"They're called banyan trees." John reached up to flip one of the hanging tendrils. "They're all over here."
"Are they sturdy?"
"I've not built a house out of them but they'll do." John smiled as a bell rang from the kitchen. "That'll be Mrs. Patmore trying to rouse anyone daring to sleep past the clang of her stove."
"I'd best get in then and tend to the children." Anna stopped, extending her left hand to John, the one not holding his cane. "Thank you for a lovely morning, Mr. Bates. I don't think I've had a livelier discussion in some time."
"The pleasure, Ms. Smith, was all mine." He took her hand with his right, surprising her with the speed he used to change hands with his cane, and kissed it. "Though I think we've both still got a bit more to discuss."
"Do we?" Anna suppressed a shiver as John released her hand.
"Of course." He winked at her as a grin stretched over his face. "We've both yet to discover the most interesting thing about the other."
"You're right." Anna took her hand back, massaging it to keep the feel of his lips there. "I think there's quite a bit more to you than I originally thought."
"What did you originally think?"
Anna ducked her head, "That perhaps we were two broken people hoping for a fresh start somewhere far away from where our nightmares come from."
John sobered, "If you anyone to talk to, about your nightmares, just know that you're not suffering alone. My house is with those other buildings but my door is always open to you, should you need it."
"Thank you, Mr. Bates." Anna met his eyes, "I might take you up on that offer."
"I hope you do." John nodded his head toward the house, "Best get on."
"Yes, we'd best get on." Anna put her hand over his on the head of his cane and then hurried back toward the house.
Her shoes knocked against the wood of the wrap around porch and she entered the summer kitchen where a short, rotund woman was barking orders to a tiny girl who looked both lost and terrified as she carried out the instructions called over the steam and heat of the room. Anna wove between them, working into the back hallway to reach the smaller set of stairs that would take her to the second floor. There she almost collided with Mrs. Hughes, hair already tied up in a tight bun to keep it off her skin, and immediately ducked her head.
"Sorry about that Mrs. Hughes."
"It's quite alright." Mrs. Hughes frowned at Anna's hem. "Were you outside this morning Anna?"
"Just inspecting the garden. I want to be familiar with the grounds for when I take the children out."
"Then I'll assume you met our gardener, Mr. Bates."
"I did." Anna tried to school her expression. "He's a lovely man."
"Take care with him."
Anna frowned, "Any particular reason?"
"He's…" Mrs. Hughes dropped her voice, "I'm not a gossip and I don't tend to spread stories about anyone but since you're new to the house you need a bit of catching up in this."
"In what?"
"He's in the midst of a rather ugly divorce. Best to keep away because his wife is probably the worst kind of devil a person can know." Mrs. Hughes stood back, "And as a Scot, I would know all about devils."
"He's married?"
"Trying not to be if he can get his wife to sign the bloody papers." Mrs. Hughes turned toward a large grandfather clock as it chimed at them from the corner. "Oh, seven already. I need to get her ladyship up and dressed."
"And I need to get ready for the children." Anna stepped around Mrs. Hughes to get to the other staircase to reach the third floor.
"Anna," She paused, her hand on the bannister as Mrs. Hughes turned to her, "Mr. Bates is a good man and we all need good friends but I wouldn't want you to find yourself… injured in any way here."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Hughes, thank you." Anna dipped her head and hurried up the stairs as the heat in the house rose before the sun was even high in the sky.
