Anna looked up from the calculations in the ledger as Tom burst through the office door. "Ms. Smith did you hear?"
"Your knock? No, I did not hear you knock." She waited as he went out of her office, almost closed the door, rapped it with his knuckles and entered the office before she could respond. She threw up her hands, "Yes Mr. Branson, how can I help you this fine morning?"
"The boss got himself caught in the storm last night and wrecked his American Beauty on the cliffs."
"What?" Anna stood up so fast she almost sent the ledger and the papers sailing. Only the quick hands of Tom saved it. "Is he alright?"
"Sybil said he's fine." Anna raised an eyebrow and Tom backtracked, coughing, "I mean, Ms. Sybil says he's fine. Arrived home late last night with a nasty head cold and some bruises but otherwise fit as ever. Barrow took ill but they say he'll mend just fine."
"What happened?"
"Syb- I mean, Ms. Sybil said he was out sailing last night, took Thomas with him, and they thought they could outrun the storm themselves. Lost control of the boat and dashed it on the rocks. Luckily some bloke in a dinghy rowed out to save them and got them before they went down in the storm."
"Some bloke in a dinghy?" Anna nodded slowly, "Someone had the strength to row in that storm to rescue a boat?"
"They said it was the lighthouse man or some such." Tom shrugged, "Just thought you should know… if you didn't already."
"I didn't," Anna sat back down slowly, "Thank you Mr. Branson for telling me."
Tom smiled, grabbing the door and carefully closing it. He waved once outside the window before taking the stairs back down to the production floor and out to the docks.
Anna tapped her pencil on the ledger, the calculations that moments ago were of such great importance now so far from her mind she'd have to start all over. She sat back in her chair, dropping the pencil in the crease of the ledger and interlacing her fingers, only to release them a second later before repeating the process.
A moment later she was up, grabbing her coat and locking her office before hurrying down the steps to the production floor. A few of the workers called out to her and she waved at them before reaching her assistant manager. The woman was shouting in her thick northern accent across the floor to some new boy about to lose a whole tray of fish.
"That's out of your wages if you drop those. Someone help the poor soul." She sighed and almost jumped as Anna tapped her on the shoulder. "Anna, you gave me a fright."
"Sorry Gwen," Anna took a moment to breathe, "I need you to manage for awhile. Something's come up and I need to run and check on it. Are you alright?"
"Of course." Gwen lowered her voice, though almost unnecessary in the din of the production lines, "Is this about Mr. Crawley almost losing his life to the rocks just under the light?"
"It's related." Anna eased around the question, "I should be back by second shift but if I'm not then just close out and leave it for me later."
"Are you sure? They say O'Brien might come by and I don't want her sniffing around if I haven't got an excuse for why you're missing."
"Tell her an emergency came up and leave it at that. The less she knows the more she'll have to pry later. It'll give her something to do." Anna pointed to the door, stepping backward, "I'm off."
"Alright. But as long as you know where you're going then it's all the same to me." Gwen waved her off, turning back to the lines to throw up her arms in exasperation, "Didn't anyone train this lad on how to carry fish?"
Anna held the tins a bit precariously as one hand clutches the straps on the bag with Mrs. Patmore's finest and the other tried to balance the uneven cartons she'd raided from her own cupboard. Using her one hand, and praying for everything to stay as it was, she pulled the handle for the bell and then stepped back. In that moment she held her breath as the tins settled back into her arms and almost missed the door opening.
And there he stood. Wrapped in an oversized blanket, dressing gown, and slippers he looked a right state. She smiled at his confused face and nodded toward the door.
"Might I explain inside?"
He only took a moment more before he hurried to step back from the door, allowing her to enter. She just made the table before the tins rolled everywhere. She saved all but one, her arms too short to stop it falling over the table edge but he caught it and held it up to his gaze for investigation.
"It would seem you prefer your teas from a little further afield than I imagined."
"Victim of the shipping industry I'm afraid." She smoothed some of her loose hair behind her ear as he placed the tea tin on the table and wrapped the blanket around himself before taking a seat. "I thought you could use a little variety and since I never drink it at home."
"Don't like tea at home?"
"Never at home to drink it really." Anna shrugged, "Home for me is a place to rest your head and not much more than that."
"That's a shame." He shifted under the blanket and she watched his eyes crinkle just slightly with his smirk, "My mother always said home is the best place for the best things."
"Well a mother would say that wouldn't she?" Anna collected the tins and took them to his almost empty cupboards, "They have children to share a home with."
"My mother wasn't always happy to share it with me." John laughed a little and Anna risked a look over at him while filling the kettle. "I was a right terror sometimes."
"So my mother always said about boys and why she was grateful everyday she never had any." Anna put the kettle on and returned to the table, pulling the food free and setting it before John.
"Just two little angels for your mother then?"
Anna stopped, blushing a little before answering, "No. Not all the time."
"Don't tell me you looked a picture but were really quite mischievous under it all." John clicked his tongue against his teeth, "You naughty girl your mother was making a comparison saying life could've been much worse."
"I pretend to be nothing more than what I am." Anna dug through his drawers and cupboards, finding his sparse collection of silverware. "Though I think we have more in common than I might've guessed at first blush."
"In that neither of us seems to make a home for ourselves well?" John took the utensils from her but did not touch the food. "Though I feel you distracted me from the question I had at the door and I haven't asked it yet."
"Then ask now." Anna sat on the edge of her seat, an ear cocked for the kettle.
"What brings you, and all this," John pointed to the food and the kettle, "To my door?"
"I did say I wanted to share breakfast with you."
"This is more luncheon or teatime than breakfast Ms. Smith."
"You look as though you've only just risen so, as I said," Anna stood with the sound of the kettle, "I told you I wanted to share breakfast."
"Then this would have nothing to do with what happened to your employer last night?" John asked as Anna brought the kettle over, filling the tea pot before preparing the tea.
"I'll have you know Tom Branson told me what happened and you were my first stop." Anna set the cup in front of John, "I wanted to ensure you were alright."
"Because I don't have a valet or anyone to take care of me?" John looked up at Anna as she leaned over him, pouring the tea.
"Am I not allowed to be friendly and worried over my new friend who I know lives alone in this lovely but overly large lighthouse?" Anna poured into her own cup and stirred in the sugar before topping off with milk.
"As you said, you pretend to be nothing more than what you are I guess." John focused on his cup but Anna stopped, hers almost to her mouth.
"What do you mean?"
"Hm?" John looked over the top of his china and Anna set her cup in the saucer.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I tried to puzzle you out for myself last night and realized I can't really make you out at all."
"Is that a bad thing?" Anna felt her hackles rise slightly but John held up a hand, using the other to ensure his cup made it back to the table.
"No, not at all." John smiled but then seemed to have a thought, "Although-"
"Although?"
"It did prevent me from some reading I planned to do last night. But, had I been reading, I probably wouldn't have seen the ship and then you wouldn't be here now." John held up his hands as though surrendering the question, "So I guess if you were less intriguing there'd be no reason for this conversation."
Anna only just realized she was staring at him. Staring at this man, with the strength to row into a storm, rescue two men, and then get them back to shore. A man who took a job at a lighthouse for the express purpose of living in the quiet, alone. A man intrigued by her.
"Ms. Smith," John's voice finally broke through her thoughts, "I do believe you're staring."
"So I was." Anna stood, "But I would have you know that I also find you intriguing and though I cannot say you've distracted me as yet I wouldn't put it outside your considerable abilities."
John stood as well, both of them still standing with the table between them. "What will you do about it?"
"I'm not sure." She smiled and headed for the door, "I do know that Mrs. Patmore will ask you about the fare so if you don't eat it she'll be cross with you."
"Not with you, Ms. Smith?"
"She's knows why I bought it and where I brought it." Anna winked and opened the door, "Just remember, when you're feeling better, to drop me a line. Else I'll worry."
"Worry what, Ms. Smith?" John moved closer to the door and for a moment Anna felt like she was tempting fate not leaving immediately.
"Just that I may not be as intriguing to you now as I was. It'd do a girl some harm to think someone didn't fancy her."
"Do you think I fancy you?" He was practically on top of her. His towering height, though perhaps not so towering when compared to those of a stature more normal than her own, almost engulfed her but instead of terror she almost felt a thrill run down her spine.
"I'd like to think you do."
"Why?"
"Because then I'd know the man I fancy happens to fancy me back, Mr. Bates." She put a hand on his, "Remember to drink the tea and eat."
"Else you'll worry?"
"Else I'll worry."
For a fraction of an instance Anna wanted to reach up and kiss his cheek but propriety stopped her. She had to be going and for all she wanted to know about Mr. John Bates he was still a stranger to her. One did not go about kissing strangers.
But in that moment he leaned down and kissed her. If she hadn't felt hypersensitive she might've missed it but there it was. Just a brush really but it thrilled her to her fingertips.
"Well, we can't have that."
Anna could only giggle and then hurry away.
Oh she was in trouble now.