Mystery of Joy
Chapter 21: Hope
by Lynn Saunders
The eternal stars shine out again, so soon as it is dark enough. - Thomas Carlyle
July 1918
"I've had a letter from Will," he whispers. She's balancing an empty serving tray, and he moves to the side so that she can join him on the first landing of the servants' stairway.
"And how are things at the pub?" Her smile fades when she sees the worry in his eyes.
He takes a step closer. "Vera has been about in Kirkbymoorside, asking where I've gone."
Anna grips the tray, her eyebrows furrowing. "And you think she's trying to make trouble for us." It's not a question.
Daisy appears at the foot of the stairwell. "Anna, can you take the desserts now?"
"Of course." Anna smiles down at the kitchen maid, then turns back to meet his eyes sympathetically for a moment before bustling off. As he ascends the steps, he catches the distinct odor of cigarettes on the landing above.
In the evening, he sits with Anna in the courtyard after the servants' supper. His Lordship has retired early, but Lady Mary hasn't yet rung to be readied for bed. A summer house party is on, and it's expected to go late into the evening. They won't be sneaking off together anytime soon. She watches the night sky as he watches her. The stars' brightness and impossible numbers are muted by the light from the Abbey, and he longs to take her back to the meadow for a proper look.
A gentle breeze stirs the loose hair at her temples. "I've the feeling Miss O'Brien was eavesdropping earlier," she says. Her eyes don't leave the heavens.
He sighs. "I thought I smelled smoke in the stairwell." He moves a touch closer, and Anna takes his hand. "Is she sticking nearer than she used to, or have I just got out of the habit of dodging her?"
She smiles at him then. "Both." Slowly, her expression shifts to one of uncertainty, and she turns her face back to the sky. "What do you think Vera wants with you now?"
"Maybe she wants to make sure I'm not hiding anything valuable." He shrugs. "If only there was something else I could give."
She hums her agreement. "What will you do if she finds you?"
He doesn't know. "We'll have to take that as it happens, I suppose." He strokes her cheek gently, and she meets his eyes once more. "But I promise I'll not leave you again."
She simply nods, patting his arm before rising and pulling him to his feet. "Come along, Mr. Bates. We've work to do." He takes her hand as they move in through the door and continues to hold it tight in his until the wisps of conversation from the servants' hall become distinct. He presses her fingers to his lips before they part.
A week later, he's awakened deep in the night by the opening and closing of doors in the hall. The sonorous notes of Mr. Carson's voice carry well, and Bates catches snippets of a conversation that almost certainly involves a telegram and Matthew. It can mean only one thing. He throws back the covers and makes himself presentable as quickly as he can. When he reaches the hall, most of the others are already disappearing downstairs, following closely behind Mr. Carson in a show of support. Anna is waiting where the men's staircase breaks off from the women's, and John is treated to the sight of her in nightclothes, her braid tucked over her shoulder. She falls purposefully in step beside him as they make their way through the house to join the small cluster of servants at the library door. He faces the news rigidly, pushing down the specters of smoke and gunfire that rise up within him. After that, none of them feel much like sleeping. Mrs. Patmore brews tea, and the staff mills about in the servants' hall. He takes his customary place beside her at the table, and they wait for morning together.
In the afternoon, he and Anna walk home hand-in-hand from the church. Days like today remind him just how lucky they are. So many others have lost so much, and yet he's still here beside her. Things aren't perfect, but they're well and safe, and that's more than most people have right now. That's the main reason he hedges when she asks how long they'll have to wait. He doesn't want to tempt fate.
They're scarcely two paces through the servants' entrance when Mrs. Hughes intercepts them in the hall. The housekeeper's demeanor tells him everything he needs to know about what's waiting for them behind the sitting room door. He sighs, resigned to confront Vera alone, but Anna steps steadfastly in front of him and turns the knob before he has a chance to argue. He doesn't want her to be bothered with his baggage, but she won't let him face Vera without her any longer.
Hours ago, he was lamenting their inability to have a church wedding. Now, he stands across from his legal wife with Anna stone-faced at his side, but he doesn't feel as helpless as he did the last time Vera turned up unannounced. Anna stares coldly, her blue eyes flashing, and she doesn't reach for his hand or seek his support. He feels an odd sense of satisfaction that she's able to stand boldly, facing Vera without fear. Anna is not dependent on him; she enhances him. They complete each other, but she's the strong one.
It's worse than he thought, though. Vera doesn't want more money. She desires only their unhappiness. The sour feeling in his stomach bubbles up to his throat, and he swallows hard. Anna looks fierce beside him. He's trying not to fall apart inside. After Vera storms out, he hangs his head, bitter tears welling up and slipping down his cheeks before he has a chance to stop them. Anna moves into his embrace, squeezing him tight, and he leans his forehead against hers with Mrs. Hughes looking on, wide-eyed in the hall.
Two days later, Bates takes his place behind Anna for someone else's wedding ceremony, and he hopes she can feel his solid presence at her back even through the space between them. He thinks of her small hands carefully arranging bridal flowers in Daisy's hair. He thinks of poor William. This is everything the lad has ever wanted, but he'll hold happiness tight in his grasp for only a moment before he drifts on. And, Bates thinks selfishly of his most secret fear, that he and Anna won't have a joyful ending either, that marriage and children and happily ever after might not happen for them after all, after everything. Then again, maybe this country vicar could be persuaded to marry them in only a few months, out of doors under the golden leaves with the sweet smell of fall all around. Everything is so uncertain. The temptation to reach out and touch her is overwhelming, and presently he does so, edging in close behind her and discretely taking her left hand in his.
Weeks later, they meet far after the rest of the household has gone to bed. It's the end of August now, and September is looming. Nearly a year has passed since their fateful trip to repair his mother's home, and he finds himself longing for fall, just as he did then. Tonight the conservatory is hot and humid, tropical, a jungle in the middle of the English countryside, and they escape to the relative comfort of the midnight air in late summer. He's brought the quilt, and they lie out in the meadow together, watching the stars. She turns to him, pressing her nose into his neck, and he listens as her breathing slowly evens out.
He kisses her temple. "We can't fall asleep here, Love." As the words leave his lips, his eyes drift shut.
"I know," she murmurs sleepily. "But I'm not ready to go back yet."
He smiles sadly. Neither of them wants to go back, only forward. He remembers the relief in her eyes, weeks ago when she'd asked if their garden was rosy once more. He'd not had the heart to tell her the whole truth just then. He hasn't heard anything further from Vera or his lawyer, and he's foolishly begun to dream that, just maybe, everything will still end well for them if they simply stay the course. No news is good news, surely?
This year, autumn should bring the news he's hoped for since that August day long ago, when Anna faced him bravely, outlined against the brilliant green of the summer leaves, and looked him in the eye as she told him she loved him. Somewhere deep down, he knows now that Vera will never leave them be. But time has passed without incident, days have turned to weeks, and life has gone back to normal. They spend their days working together and their nights meeting in secret, just as they've done for years.
The points of light above the meadow weave a thick tapestry, an innumerable expanse of heat and energy, and for a moment he recognizes the smallness of their struggles relative to the scope of the heavens. He presses the fingers of his free hand to his temple and sighs.
She hugs him closer. "What's the matter?" His eyes remain fixed on the stars above, and she doesn't wait for his answer. She knows. "If something happens… I'll go away with you."
It's not the first time she's said it, and it certainly won't be the last. His arms tighten around her, and he chuckles into her hair. The idea is more tempting than he cares to admit, and with the story about Pamuk neatly tied up in contract, nothing really binds them to Downton except stubborn loyalty and habit. "Will you, now?"
She finds his hand and laces her fingers through his. "You know I will."
"And where would you like to go, Miss Smith?"
She looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Paris?" she asks with a cheeky grin, and they laugh together in the starlight. She's silent for a moment, thinking. "America." Her voice is quiet and calm. She's serious.
He breathes in, waits, then lets the held breath leave him as he nods slowly. "Everything will be alright." His lips seek hers, and he kisses her languidly, letting each touch linger between them, indulging in the dangerous taste of hope.
* An anonymous guest reviewer on FF dot net requested more stargazing, and I was happy to oblige. This series is all about parallels, both to the the show and to other chapters/stories in the overall arc. Y'all don't be shy. Please note that I have no way to reply to your kind reviews unless you log in. :) And please do leave a review if you're so inclined- they're what I live for. I'm also lynnsaundersfanfic at gmail dot com and on tumblr.
* Beta for this series is provided by terriejane, gelana78, downtonluvr, and giginutshell. Timeline information and fact-checking is provided by angel-princess-anna (though any errors you might note are entirely my own- please contact me if you see one, and I will address it).
* Re the divorce timeline: Bates and Anna would've surely known that after the decree nisi was issued, they'd have a six month waiting period before the decree absolute. That is historically accurate. However, in the church scene, Anna asks "how long," and Bates replies with, "hard to say." Ehhh… what? That bugs me. So I hope that I've resolved that discrepancy satisfactorily while staying within the canon framework. I felt that something (Bates being alerted that Vera is trying to find him) had to happen to put the hint of a question into their minds in order for the church scene to develop the way it did. That also was a convenient way to explain O'Brien's sudden interest in contacting Vera with the news of Bates' location. I feel like the news from Will combined with general possibilities of legal delays and registrar availability makes the "hard to say" line more believable. Hopefully.
* Aside from the scene in which Matthew and William are injured, S2E5 spans three days in July 1918. As angel-princess-anna points out on her timeline, the Battle of Amiens actually occurred in August, but the canon point of the date on William's tombstone overrides this error in my book. If you prefer to think of this chapter as set in August and moving into September, that's fine.