Nine

It was a miracle that Anna made it inside the room she shared with Ethel in complete silence; the energy, eagerness and excitement coursing through her body were epic in proportions. Thankfully, Ethel slept heavier than a rock under the ocean, and didn't even stir when Anna lit the candle on her bedside table. It didn't provide enough light to illuminate the entire room, but gave more than enough light for the task at hand.

After changing into her nightgown and settling into bed, Anna placed the package on her lap, just running her fingers over it for a moment and savoring the fact that she had a gift from John. Then she slid out the envelope from under the string and felt it curiously. There was a letter inside, but also something else at the bottom. She couldn't quite make out what it was though, and eagerly but carefully opened the envelope.

When she opened it upside down, out fell both a letter and something else. It looked like a chain used for necklaces, and strung through it was a tiny silver key. Anna picked it up, looking at it more closely in the candlelight. The key looked quite ordinary, and was no longer than a large button. Wanting answers, Anna picked up the letter, unfolded it, and read in John's familiar handwriting:

Darling Anna,

No material gift could ever show the measure of what is in my heart for you, so I will have to give you something straight from my heart instead. For too long, I kept secrets from you, burying them deep in my heart. Now I lay bare before you the secrets of my heart, which I know you will guard fiercely. Until we can be together for good and proper, and we will be joined together in every way, please accept this gift as a symbol of my heart, and the key to it that belongs only to you.

Happy Birthday, my love. I am doing my best to make sure we will spend your next one and all birthdays after together.

Your John

With John's handkerchief, Anna dabbed at the tears threatening to fall from her eyes after she read his message. "My John…" she breathed, and then kissed the letter. After putting it back in the envelope, Anna untied the string and unwrapped the brown paper very carefully, because her hands were shaking with excitement.

On her lap now lay a plain wooden box, with a lock keeping the lid closed the same color as the small key she held. More curious and eager than ever, Anna inserted the tiny key – which fit perfectly into the keyhole – and turned it. The little lock inside clicked, and Anna, after shooting a glance at the deeply asleep Ethel, lifted the hinged lid.

Inside lay what looked like a book. Though she hated herself for it, Anna couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Like Mary, Mr. Bates had usually given her a book for her birthday and Christmas. What was so special about this book that he would consider it a symbol of his heart, and that he was asking her to guard under lock and key?

Anna became even more confused when she lifted the book out of the box and examined its exterior. No title, no author, nothing to indicate what lay inside. Just simple brown leather. Shaking her head, Anna opened it, took one look inside, and closed it right away with wide eyes and a mercifully silent gasp. Though Ethel remained sound asleep, Anna quickly put the book and John's letter into the box and locked it with the key. Almost frantically, Anna looked around their small room for a place she could put the precious box, somewhere Ethel or anybody else wouldn't look. In the small room, the options were very limited. Finally, Anna thought of under her bed, at the head against the wall, where the shadows would disguise it. So that is where she put it; to be safe, she also surrounded it the other items she kept under her bed: winter shoes, various hats, and other things of that nature. In a tiny room shared by two people, one had to use any space available for storage. Once the box was safely hidden away, Anna unlocked the chain holding the key and put it around her neck, making sure to tuck the key beneath her nightgown. With that, she blew out her candle and laid down to sleep.

In between prayers that sleep would take her quickly (which it did – she'd had a full day of work, birthday or not), only two thoughts kept ringing in her mind.

The first was this: Thank goodness tomorrow is my afternoon off…

The second was this: I can't believe he's given this to me…


The next morning, Lady Mary watched Anna do her hair with a smile on her face. "And how are you feeling this morning, Anna?"

Anna was smiling, and seemed to be trembling with a kind of impatient excitement that was rare for her. "Wonderful, m'lady, and you?"

"Oh, I'm just fair," said Lady Mary, her smile widening. "I take it you enjoyed your last birthday present?"

Anna opened her mouth as if to reply, but shut it again and just nodded.

Lady Mary chose not to ask what it was, remembering her conversation with Bates the previous day. Though he had not said anything about what it might be, it had been clear that whatever the parcel consisted of, it was personal and private between the two of them.

Anna, in her turn, felt relieved that Lady Mary didn't ask what the gift had been, and relished in the feeling of the hidden key pressing coolly against the skin of her chest.


The moment her afternoon began, Anna had made a beeline for her room and shut the door behind her. She now had several free hours until dinner service to begin John's wonderful present, which she still had trouble believing he had really given her.

In the next moment, she sat cross legged on her bed with the simple brown leather book lying on her lap. Anna stroked the plain cover with her fingertips, as though it were a sacred relic. Well, to her it was.

With trembling fingers, Anna opened the book and saw the date he had written: Sixteenth of April, 1912. Anna recalled this being the day that the house had found out about the sinking of the Titanic, and subsequently the day they had learned of the deaths of Mr. Patrick and his father.

But to Anna, the day had one true significance: this was the day that Mr. Bates had come to Downton. It made sense to Anna: Mr. Bates had wanted to start a new and better life when he came to Downton, so it would make sense he would begin a new journal rather than continue in an old one.

Then again, until Anna had opened the box, she hadn't known that Mr. Bates had even kept a journal.

She took a deep breath, and began to read his first entry, all about his first day at Downton…


All in all, today has gone better than I could ever have expected it to have gone. And for me, this has been nothing but refreshing and a much-needed relief.

His lordship had spoken of Downton quite often during the war, but he had been right when he'd said no words could properly describe the grandeur of this beautiful place he is privileged to reign over. Perhaps to some it would seem a bit obnoxious in its grandness, but if they knew his lordship they would lose any such thoughts. For all of his human flaws, his lordship is a good and honorable man who loves his family and his home with all he has. Seeing him again has reminded me of that, and I could not be more grateful for this chance he is giving me.

However, I don't think he knew that the old wound had flared up again. I could see his look of surprise when he saw me again in the servants' hall. I must admit, after a day of skeptical looks and hidden bitterness from most of the people, I rather enjoyed it when his lordship came down to greet me, and seeing all of their gobsmacked faces. Especially her ladyship's maid and that first footmen, who haven't really bothered to disguise their rude welcome at all. I have a feeling that I should expect their faces to always stay that sour, no matter the day or time. Must be careful around them.

The butler and housekeeper seem to be top-notch. In a house like this, I realize, one can't be anything less. Mr. Carson seems to be very traditional and tight-laced, ruling downstairs with an iron firmness; the same could be said for Mrs. Hughes over the maids, though I get the feeling she is a bit more open-minded than her counterpart. I suppose I will have to wait and find out more as the days go on.

I really cannot blame any of their skepticism or awkwardness upon meeting me and seeing my cane. I expected nothing less, and it's perfectly understandable. As I've stated before, anybody working in a house this big must be top-notch in their jobs. This means that I will have to prove myself, to those both upstairs and downstairs, that I can do this job. I started tonight, and I am happy to say that all went smoothly considering it was my first night.

I had the opportunity of meeting her ladyship for the first time when I'd finished. I can't count the number of times his lordship had talked of his new wife when we were in South Africa, this "striking beauty of an heiress from America." Even at her age, I can see what he meant and how much he adores her. She was polite and kind in meeting me, but she looked at my cane just as everyone else today has.

Actually, now that I think of it, there was one person today who had not looked at me with skepticism. The head housemaid has shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived this morning, even backing me when I was introduced to Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Her name is Anna, and she looks to be in her early to mid-twenties, and her speech says she's from Yorkshire as most of the servants here are. She's a fair thing, with light hair and light eyes. Reminds me of the way my mother would describe the sidhe in the tales she loved to tell of her homeland. Well, whether Anna has faery blood or not, it felt nice to have someone look at my face rather than my cane when they spoke to me, and with nothing less than kind welcome...


Anna had to clamp her hand over her mouth to smother the giggles that wanted to burst out. She, have faery blood? She hadn't expected him to think anything like that on only their first day knowing each other. But she couldn't deny how pleased it made her feel to read it.

She read through the next entries, as Mr. Bates settled into life at Downton and facing the doubts of his lordship and everybody else. It was painful to read his recollection of the Duke's arrival. Her blood boiled in anger when she read that it had been Miss O'Brien's fault, knocking his cane with her foot. If she weren't so much better now, I would give her such a talking to…

Then she reached the next day, when he had been dismissed by Lord Grantham. The pain he had felt then was so evident in his writing it brought a tear to her eyes. And then she came to the point in that day she most wanted to read about:


...What a pathetic man I am. I loathe falling into self-pity, especially weeping, and I was determined not to let myself do that if this position at Downton did not work out. But when Lord Grantham told me this afternoon that this wasn't going to work out, I knew internally that I wouldn't be able to prevent it later. To his credit, I could see that he did not enjoy this task, so I tried to persuade him without begging pathetically to reconsider, but I knew it would be to no avail.

Thank goodness Mr. Carson allowed me to miss dinner with the others; the last thing I wanted to do was feel the satisfied smirks of O'Brien and Thomas, along with the pitying glances of others. Instead, I stayed in my room and cried like a pathetic child. The tears wouldn't stop themselves, and each felt like a shameful burn rolling down my face. It's no mystery why they came, however: I felt hopeless, and I still do. This had been my last chance to reclaim something of who I had once been, to prove that I could work as well as any man without an impediment. But I was wrong, and I still have no idea what I will do. I must leave early in the morning…I suppose I'll rent a room in a public house and try to find work…If I truly can't find anything in Yorkshire, I'll go back to London and stay with my mother…surely something will turn up in that vast city, even for a man like myself.

A man like myself…what was it that Anna told me? "There's always a place for a man like you." How I wish I could believe that, or that I could believe my own assurances to her that I would be all right. I'm still in shock from that encounter with her a few moments ago…and slightly ashamed of myself, as well.

As I was drowning in my own hopelessness and self-pity through tears, I heard someone call for me from the hallway. I wiped my face (though I knew my eyes were still red and would give me away), and walked to the door. When I opened it, there stood Anna with a tray of food she had brought up for me because I had missed dinner. I had not expected anybody to make such a gesture for me; after all, I'd only worked here a week, was being dismissed for being a hindrance, and they would want to eat their own meals before attending to the people upstairs. Thankfully, I didn't realize how hungry I really was until I saw the tray.

After I took the tray from her, I must admit that all I wanted was to be left alone with it. I had realized that my door had not been closed all the way, so there's a very good chance that she heard my pathetic tears. So all I could feel was shame and embarrassment while she tried to comfort me. It reminded me of when I had been tripped, how she had helped me up and dusted my sleeves. I hadn't wanted pity then, and I didn't want it now. So all I could feel through our short conversation was the shame of what she may have heard and what my eyes revealed, shame that I must seem such a pathetic creature in her eyes to be pitied.

It wasn't until my stomach had been satisfied that I came to a realization I should have seen before now. If all Anna felt was pity for me, would she have taken time away from her own dinner to bring some up to me? No. If she only felt sorry for me, would she ask me to drop her a line when I'd been settled so she wouldn't worry? No. I learned today the critical difference between pity and empathy: pity implies one looking down on someone lower than they are and feeling sorry for their circumstances without trying to understand them; empathy is truly trying to understand while standing on equal ground and eye-to-eye with that person.

Anna never gave me pity…she empathized with me. I don't believe anybody has ever felt that for me before, or really tried to.

Now I feel wretched and wish I could apologize to her. All she wanted was to help me and I brushed her aside in my embarrassment and shame. Perhaps it's only right I be dismissed, if I'm going to be selfish when I shouldn't be. And the worst is that I will have no opportunity or chance to see her one last time before I leave, just to show her I truly have appreciated her kindness and welcome to me while I've been here.

Well, when I am settled somewhere, I will drop her a line then, and try to apologize…but it probably won't do much good…If my life has taught me anything, it is that everything good in my life that I touch just turns to rot eventually.


"Oh, Mr. Bates…" Anna murmured when she had finished reading that entry. Again, she had to wipe her eyes with his handkerchief. Of course she didn't blame him for his embarrassment and shame – lesser men than him would have tried to take revenge or left causing harm to all he could reach. And her heart filled at the knowledge that he had recognized her compassion not as pity but for what it truly was.

Eagerly, she turned to the next page, where she knew she would find a happier entry:


...I never used to believe in the saying, "Things will be better in the morning," but now I have caused to believe it. I don't know what made Lord Grantham change his heart, and I don't care. I am still at Downton, and I plan to be for as long as possible, doing my work to the best of my ability and prove once and for all that I am more than a man with a gammy leg. I don't care if it was only Lord Grantham's pity that has me here now; what matters is that I can stay.

I couldn't resist casting a glance at Thomas as I passed the front door to walk around the house. Of course, he kept his face neutral before his lordship, but I could see his eyes blazing. I shall never let my guard down with him, or O'Brien for that matter. I've had enough trouble in my life, and the last thing I want is to start more with them.

As I made my way around the house towards the servants' courtyard and entrance, I felt no real excitement for seeing the shock on the other's faces that I would be staying. But there was one whose face I did want to see, because I knew on that face would be something better than only shock.

Anna was actually out in the courtyard by herself when I came; she was polishing the riding boots of one of the daughters. But she stopped when she heard me and looked at me with the astonishment I expected. "Mr. Bates?" she said. "What…"

I couldn't resist smiling at the hope I saw in her eyes, for she knew that if I were leaving I would have left by now. I told her that I would, in fact, be staying at Downton. Her entire expression became radiant as she smiled and clapped her hands once, and I believed her when she said how glad she was of that. And I was able to properly thank her for her kindness she showed me yesterday, putting my shame aside.

How could I ever have taken her for one who would only pity? She's young and yet got a sound head and heart beyond her years. Quite a mystery, much like the faery she first reminded me of. I look forward to getting to know this new friend better, for I believe I have found a true one in her, and that makes the prospect of staying at Downton better than even I could have hoped for.


The smile on Anna's face as she finished this day's entry was such that her cheeks hurt, but she didn't care. She giggled without abandon, and hugged the journal to her chest. She felt so honored, so privileged, so humbled and so touched that he had entrusted this with her. Mr. Bates had been right when he'd said he was sending her the best symbol of his heart he could give. The fact that he had, for so long, tried to keep so many things from her, and was now holding nothing back from her…the fact that the man she loved no longer wanted to hide from her but shared all of his heart with her…Anna had never felt such happiness, and knew only seeing him again for good and proper would ever surpass that.

But, for now, she had a precious treasure that could keep her going, for now she no longer dreaded time to herself: she would have the closest thing to her John that was possible now.


A/N: I know you faithful readers have missed the Anna/Bates interaction, so this is my way of making it up to you. They still have a ways to go until they will be reunited, so the next chapter will be full of entries that I LOVE writing, diving into John's head. So please be optimistically patient like our hero and heroine, and PLEASE REVIEW!