A/N: I wouldn't keep you waiting too long! Let's find out what happens to Anna... and we'll see John's POV for the first time in the story. Let me know your thoughts - and your expectations for the next chapter! As always, thanks for reading!


Chapter 6

John opened the door slowly, humming to himself. Luckily he had been able to have tea at home but had to bring some mending with him. The whistle coming from the kitchen caused him to frown; Anna was probably busy with something upstairs, so he decided to go to the kitchen and stop it. He was barely in the middle of the parlour when he heard the noise upstairs – cries.

Anna's cries.

His heart raced and he threw his cane onto the settee, not caring what happened as long as he saw Anna safe and unscathed. He tried desperately not to panic as he walked up the stairs, calling her name, hoping that she would hear him. His mind was racing as much as his heart – had someone broken in? Had she seen anything, anyone? He knew that she had been tired but she seemed perfectly fine when she left the house just half an hour ago. The closed door of the second bedroom caught his attention.

"Anna?" he called, panic in his voice.

"No, no, no," Anna's voice was heard from the inside. John tried to turn the knob but nothing happened.

"Anna, it's me," he knocked on the door, incessantly trying to unlock it. They didn't even keep a key in the door. He knocked harder. "Anna, it's John!"

He tried to open the door again. A sniff was heard.

"John?" Anna's voice was small and vulnerable. It broke his heart. "John, oh my God, John. The door won't open!"

"Are you all right?" he asked first, taking a few steps back.

It took her a moment to reply. He stopped breathing until she answered. "Yes, I'm fine."

"I'll break the door," he told her calmly. She was still crying inside the room. "So please stay as far away from it as you can. All right, darling?"

"All right," came her small reply.

It only took him a moment to support his weight on his bad leg and kick the door with the other, and it burst open. He cringed as pain hit him like a knife in his knee but he had no time for that. The door flung open and Anna was in the corner of the room, huddled like a small child, with her nose red and her eyes puffy and tired, and his heart broke for her. She stood up, the tears tracing down her cheeks, and she sobbed heavily when his arms reached her, engulfing her into him, her head fitting under his chin.

They had been having such good days – months, even. Ever since they talked things out and ever since they reunited things were improving and life was almost like it had been before everything. But lately… Something was troubling Anna. He knew he had been pushing a bit when they talked of babies last year but he decided to give her her own time from now on – perhaps that was what was bothering her. Another month and no news. Perhaps he should just ask her what had been bothering her – everything had been so hazy these days, and Lord Grantham's visits to London certainly weren't helping he and Anna and their life together.

"I'm here, my darling," he kissed her hair. "I'm here."

"I came here and the door just… closed," she sniffed against his waistcoat. "I couldn't open it, in any way, and I called for you… And I kept hearing it and it wouldn't stop."

He frowned at her words. "Hearing what, my love? What did you hear?"

She shook her head against his chest. "Just… voices and things. I didn't feel like I was home anymore, I just… And I wasn't dreaming, not this time around. What is happening, John?"

He felt a tightness in his chest as once again he couldn't seem to have the answers to her questions. She was shaking against him, and he simply kissed her forehead and hoped she wouldn't notice that he most definitely hurt his leg while opening the door. He tried to soothe her by holding her close and stroking her back, and her sniffs subsided after a few moments.

"I'm not sure," he replied, "but we'll work it out. All right?"

She nodded against him, and he hoped to God that this time she wasn't trusting him in yet another hopeless situation.


She was still shaking when he handed her a cup of tea, prepared by him just the way he knew she liked it. Her eyes were still red and she was quiet, almost too quiet. Her eyes focused entirely on the cup as she drank, and he took a deep breath. They would have to talk about it, he knew, but he also knew Anna and he could see that she would rather not talk right now. Alas… it was needed. He touched her arm softly, and she startled at first but brought her own hand to rest above his.

"Anna," he breathed, "look at me, love."

To his surprise, she shook her head.

"Anna…"

"I'm afraid," she blurted out suddenly, still staring at the cup, now nearly empty. "I'm afraid to look at you and see someone else here. I'm afraid I'll hear something, or…"

"It's just me," his words echoed in the silence of the cottage. "Please, Anna."

At his pleading, she did look up. Her hair was dishevelled from the episode upstairs, and her eyes were still somewhat glassy from her tears, but this was still his Anna, looking as lovely as ever, yet still living a nightmare in her mind. She blinked, and pulled him close to her. He rested his cup on the table to hug her, and gave her hair a kiss.

"I see only you," she sniffed, "but I'm still afraid I've gone mad."

"You're not mad, Anna," he said sternly, and she pulled away to look at him. "Tell me what's been happening lately. Please."

"I'm not sure," she confessed. "Just... These dreams and now this. It's all so clear, but I know it's not real. It can't be real."

"What?" he asked again, his mind spiraling to comprehend what his wife was saying.

"The woman," Anna said at last, furrowing her brow as she remembered. "There's a woman, and her baby. I think they took the baby from her."

"Who?" John asked, not understanding. "Darling, I'm sure these are just tricks your mind is playing. There was no one else in the cottage when I arrived," he told her, but she did not seem to think his words were helpful, as she shook her head. "You have been through so much misery and pain, perhaps you're just tired. We should take a break."

"No, it's not like that!" Anna said, "I see her all the time. I've seen her here and outside and... I'm not tired, I'm just so... So happy," she said, touching his arm softly. "Truly, I am. I haven't been this happy in so long but I keep seeing her. What if she's real, John?"

John kept silent. Anna's mind was working faster than his own, which wouldn't be the first time that happened, he thought humourlessly. Instead, he took a deep breath.

"I think it's Annie," she went on. At his questioning glance, she continued, "Annie Nichols. The housemaid. I think she had her baby here and I've been seeing her. Maybe it's because of the letters."

"I didn't think you believed in this sort of thing," John commented.

"I don't," Anna said softly, her blue eyes staring back at his. "I don't and I know you don't either. But if my mind is playing tricks on me, I want to do something to make it go away."

"You need to stop reading those letters and notes," he told her. "I know you sympathized with the story but it's in the past now. We need to focus on the present."

"Yes," she nodded. "Let's do that. I'll hide the letters again, back where they were before. We know the ending couldn't have been good."

He brought a hand to caress her cheek. "Maybe. But perhaps she didn't lose the baby like you think she did."

"I hope not," Anna breathed, and smiled at him. She looked better now. Relieved, and much calmer. She wasn't going mad, not his Anna. He knew she wasn't. Perhaps... This was just a delayed reaction to everything. Or perhaps the story simply reached to her heart and caused her to live through those emotions. She was far more compassionate than anyone would give her credit for.

But he loved her for it.

John smiled. "It'll pass, you'll see," he kissed her forehead. "I'll go back to the house and tell them you're unwell and that I'll have to come home earlier. I'm sure Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson won't mind."

"No, I'll go back too," Anna said stubbornly. "I'm fine. In fact, I think work would be really helpful indeed. To keep me busy."

He wanted to shake his head and stomp on his feet to make sure she stayed home and safe, but she had been just that when he arrived and he wouldn't forget the image of her heartbroken expression when he saw her. No, he trusted her, enough that he would do whatever she wished.

"All right," he chanced a look at the small wall clock behind her. "We have to move soon, I'm afraid. Almost time for the dressing gong. I can wash these while you get ready."

She shook her head. "Let's do them together. And then you can help me get ready quick too. I don't want to be alone."

He smiled kindly at her. "It takes half the time with two, after all."


The day was nearly over, thankfully; and what a long day it had been. Anna was quiet throughout the rest of it, content to simply work and still dreading the night ahead of her. Still, everything had passed by with no further incidents. She had dressed Lady Mary quickly and though her Ladyship seemed to have noticed Anna's silence, she was glad that her mistress was sensible enough not to raise any questions. Anna simply wanted to work peacefully.

The house was quiet when she left Lady Mary's bedroom, and she decided to go check if John was finished with his Lordship; he had been called shortly after she was, as she heard the gong just as she walked up the stairs, so there was a good chance that he was done now too.

She felt suddenly very tired, and thought that maybe she was due for a dreamless, restful sleep tonight. Taking a deep breath and regaining some hope and confidence, she walked slowly down the corridor. She could hear Madge and Lady Edith talking as she passed by Lady Edith's bedroom, and turned the corner. Their voices ceased, and silence prevailed; it was a calm night and the weather was quite nice. The gallery was dark, save for a few lights. It would be pleasant if they managed to go home a little earlier some day this week. She could use an early night, for once.

Then she heard it. Giggling. And hurried steps.

Anna stopped, and looked around. There were no visitors staying the night, or so she thought. Her heart beat fast against her chest. She was nearly at his Lordship's door now. Just a few more steps. She kept on walking; it was nothing. She could hear nothing now. John was right; it was probably her mind making up things. Anna shook her head, leaving the thoughts behind her, but just as she passed by a door she heard noises again. Steps. She didn't stop walking. And then, a door was opening right by her side. And she saw it.

A woman, decidedly familiar, wearing an old fashioned maid uniform, following a man inside a room. Anna gasped, and blinked her eyes. She stepped back, supporting herself against the banister. The woman turned around to close the door and icy blue eyes stared right back at her. Anna couldn't breathe.

And just then, another door was opened, and her head flew in that direction, but it simply revealed John. She looked back to the door directly in front of her, but it was closed now. She let out a deep breath. It couldn't have been real. She took a step forward.

"Anna?" John's voice called for her, but she simply shook her head and reached for the doorknob. It was a guest bedroom. It was supposed to be unoccupied tonight.

She turned it, ignoring John's steps moving further. She opened the door.

And dark and empty the bedroom was. She pursed her lips. Those eyes looked so real.

"Anna, what is it?" John whispered as he got closer.

She didn't even know what to answer him. It looked too real. It had sounded too real.

"Just take me home," she said at last. "Please."


Anna played with her wedding ring absentmindedly as she sat in bed, not quite in the mood for reading, and the single candle in the bedroom was currently being used so her husband could read - a bookworm if she had ever seen one. She had long given up on reading the book she had chosen from the library just a few weeks ago. The Turn of the Screw* was too much of a gothic novel to have her attention now.

John's hand was distractedly stroking her thigh as he held the book with his other hand; every now and then he would let go to turn a page, but it didn't take long for his hand to cover her thigh over the covers once more. Anna sighed; it seemed almost surreal that they had spent so many years dreaming of living together, of the domesticity their marriage would bring. Simple moments like this made her heart swell with happiness. Despite everything that happened over the years, they were content to lay together, reading or talking or simply resting. She covered his hand with her left one, her wedding ring gleaming against the candle light. She smiled.

"Are you all right?" John asked her, closing his book.

Anna nodded. They had had a long conversation on the way home and she told him of her latest vision. He agreed that things weren't right, but she thought her dear husband was almost afraid to agree that perhaps this was all a trick of her mind; she really might be going mad, and the thought alone made her shiver. She couldn't lose sanity, not now and not ever.

"I'm fine," she said truthfully. She felt peaceful tonight, aside from everything. A little nervous at the prospect of sleeping, if anything. But she had John. That was all that mattered. "I think I'll just get this book back to the library, as I haven't been reading much of it."

John smiled, but his eyes were filled with worry. He eyed the book on her nightstand. "That might be better. The ending is a bit confusing."

Anna pursed her lips. "You said you were looking forward to discussing it with me, when I first chose it."

"It's a ghost story," he said slowly. "It might not be fit for our situation now."

Anna smiled sadly and nodded. "Quite right. I'll just grab something different, like Emma," she suggested, and he chuckled at her implication; she had read the novel more than just a few times, it being her Jane Austen favourite. "I was thinking that... I heard the maids talking last week. About this Mrs Chapman who will be in York this week. She investigates these... paranormal facts. If they are indeed facts."

John frowned. "Do you want to go see this woman?"

"It can't hurt, can it?" Anna asked with trepidation. "What if I really am seeing Annie, and what if she's trying to... Communicate?"

"If she's doing that, she certainly isn't friendly," her husband huffed. "I don't think you should go. She's probably another charlatan, Anna, the kind we read about all the time. There's no such thing as the paranormal."

"I'll either see her or I'll go straight to a doctor," Anna said decidedly. "I need to know what is happening, one way or the other. It's too much a coincidence that this started with those letters. I am either mad or seeing... spirits, if that's the right word. In either case, I'd rather do something quick before I lose my mind. Don't you think?"

He was quiet at her outburst, and she bit her lip. It was probably silly to see this woman, but this might as well be her best chance. And she needed John's support.

"You are right, of course," he exhaled, lacing their fingers together. "I'd like to go with you. When is this lecture, you said?"

"Thursday morning," Anna told him. "I'll have to ask Lady Mary for the morning off, as I usually take the afternoon. But I don't think she'll mind."

"Lord Grantham has an important meeting with investors on Thursday," John said quickly. "I can try to ask him. I could say that you're going to a doctor, or that we have some business to attend."

"No, it's fine. I think... Well, maybe it's better if I go by myself," she said softly. "I can't make you go and see something you don't believe in. And you'll be busy. I'll go, and then I'll be home in the afternoon and we can talk then."

"Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?" he asked.

Anna smiled encouragingly. "Of course. It'll be fine. Don't worry too much," she reached her free hand to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. That I made you so worried."

"It's quite all right," he said softly, kissing her forehead. "We should sleep. It's late."

She nodded, a little nervous at what dreams the night might give her.

"If you wake up, for any reason whatsoever," he started, blowing out the candle as she got comfortable in bed, "please wake me up too. No matter what."

"I will," she promised as she settled against his side. She smiled as he looked down at her and kissed her lips.

"Goodnight, my darling."

She breathed in his scent. "Love you."

"I love you too."


* The Turn of the Screw is a wonderful book by Henry James, and the first ghost story I've ever read, so if you like this genre and haven't read it, I highly recommend it. :)