~August 29th, 1927

These past couple of days have been none too good in the Bates household. John is so sick, with one of the nastiest cases of the flu I have ever seen.

Last night he arrived home from work, pale as a sheet and actually trembling. The sight of him was worrisome enough but when I touched him he was burning up with fever! I had to take him up stairs and undress him. The poor man didn't even have the strength to do it himself. He just fell into bed and that's where he's been ever since.

The doctor came by and said it was the flu and that I should keep cooling him down with damp cloths until his fever broke and give him chicken soup and warm milk with a bit of honey and cinnamon, and that's what I've been doing, between tending to my children. Thankfully it does seem that his temperature has broken. That's a huge relief, but he's still so weak and miserable.

Daisy was here earlier to wash up some nappies and to help me with things, but of course she has her work as well, and now that John's not there no one can be spared, and honestly, I can manage well enough. Finn and Fee are quiet most of the time. The sweet things only cry for food and a change and William, well, you give him some toys or a book or a job to do and he will be settled for the day.

Will was quite frightened though, when he saw his father looking more dead than alive. John is always so fit and healthy and it was the first time in Will's life that he saw him in such an awful state. He said he wanted to help take care of his daddy, but I don't need him sick too and I told him that he could visit Daddy from the doorway. He was none too happy about that...But Mummy...I can help...he pleaded.

I've heard young babies have a natural immunity but I didn't want to take any chances and I've moved them into the nursery with Will. It's only across the hall and maybe it was time anyway. We'll decide whether to move them back when John's better. William cheered up considerably when he learned he was to have his sisters in the room.

As I am writing this the clock just struck four in the afternoon and I think it's time to give John some milk and cinnamon again. I have no idea what good it does, if any, but I'm not the doctor. He's been sleeping since after his lunch and he only took a few sips of the soup. He was telling me how sorry he was about all the extra work he was causing me. Poor love, I'll see how he's doing now and take him the milk and maybe a biscuit.

~ Anna Bates

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~ Man Down! ~

'John?' she called after her husband, holding a tray with milk and biscuits in her hands. The bed was empty, his robe on the hook and John Bates was nowhere to be found. 'John!' she called again, unsure of what to think.

'Mummy! We are in the loo.' It was the voice of her son and she placed the tray on the bed, going next door to the bathroom.

'Oh, my poor John,' she cried, stopping in the doorway to see her husband kneeling on the floor and leaning over the toilet, while William patted his back gently, a serious and worried expression on his face.

'All out, Daddy, you'll feel better afterwards.' The boy spoke softly to his father, comforting him in this time of need, repeating the same words he had heard directed toward himself on one or two occasions.

'Oh my God, John,' Anna joined them, kneeling beside her husband and grimacing. 'Why didn't you call me? I would have brought you a bucket.'

'There was no time,' John replied, taking a deep breath and trying to regain his control.

'I heard a noise and it was Dad throwing up chicken soup all over his jammies,' William remarked and John sighed ashamedly, looking down at his clothes.

'I didn't have time to reach the loo when it first came. I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry, my darling,' she reassured him, running a hand through his damp hair. 'I just want you to feel better, that's all that matters now.'

'I think I do feel a bit better, but I am still so cold,' her husband replied, shivering.

'Well then, are you finished here? Are you ready to stand up? You can sit right back down on this chair and I'll run you a warm bath. That will feel good, won't it?' John nodded pathetically. Anna continued, 'We'll get you cleaned up and you'll feel even better. What do you say?'

'Yes,' John nodded, rising from the floor with her and his son's aid. 'Thank you, little man, you were quite the helper.'

'It's all right,' William said placing his hands on his hips and nodding seriously. 'I love you Daddy. Please get better.'

Anna felt tears gathering in her eyes at her son's gentle and caring ways and John couldn't help but smile and pat the boy's head.

'I need you to go look after your sisters now, Will, while Mummy helps wash Daddy up?' Anna suggested and the boy left the bathroom, very focused on the task he had been given. 'He's growing into such a sweet boy.'

'He's your son after all,' John said sitting down on the chair they always kept in the bathroom, while Anna began to fill the tub.

After a few minutes the bath was ready, filled with steaming water, and she wondered briefly if it would raise his temperature again, but she couldn't leave him like this and he needed a bath terribly.

'Come on, Mr Bates, let's undress you.' She gave him a cheeky smile and he chuckled, which led to a coughing fit. Not long after that he was soaking in the tub nearly up to his chin. He looked comfortable but he was not. Every inch of him ached and his head was spinning making him rather dizzy.

Anna kneeled down on the floor beside the bathtub, her hand resting on his shoulder.

'I hate being sick,' he muttered, running his hands up and down his arms. His legs were too long to stretch out in the tub leaving his knees exposed to the cooler air of the bathroom. 'My knees are freezing, Anna,' he complained.

'No one likes being sick, you silly,' she told him,cupping warm water in her hand and letting it flow over his legs. 'Any special request?' she smiled.

'What do you mean?' That question seemed to perk him up marginally.

'I mean do you want me to wash your back or your hair...what else would I mean?' she eyed him suspiciously.

'Oh...nothing else...I just...nevermind...'

'I would have thought you were too ill for such things, Mr Bates.' She rolled her eyes and reached for the soap, rubbing it between her hands until it turned into a soft foam, then she began to wash his chest and shoulders, travelling up to his neck and the back of his head. 'Lift your arm.'

He did as she asked. 'Be careful, I'm ticklish and even my skin hurts,' he said woefully.

'All right, all right...'

'Anna, careful, my back's really sore,' he whined. 'And I am so damn cold...I've never been so cold in all my life.'

'Let's do this quickly then, John, before your fever goes up again. This warm water probably isn't doing you much good.'

'Anna, you are not going to put those cold, damp cloths on my forehead again, are you? I hate them.'

'If you run a fever again, I have to,' she tried to reason with him.

'But I really hate them, Anna,' he continued with his complaints.

'No one likes them, John, but it's needed.'

'Anna, I've never been so sick in all my life I think...what if I die? The flu can kill you, you know.'

Anna gave an exasperated sigh. 'Honestly, you are going to kill me so much faster if you keep whining like a big baby. Can you please stop complaining so I can finish? Or do you want to wash yourself?'

'No, you do it, I'll be quiet,' he pouted.

'Good!' Some minutes passed and he was silent and still, behaving as he should. 'All right, let me fetch you a towel.'

'But...' he began and she shot him a look. '...it's just...didn't you miss something?' he said pointing down.

'John, honestly...I thought you were dying.' The corner of her mouth twitched as she tried to suppress a giggle. Her husband... indeed he would be the death of her.

'I want to die a happy man.' He flashed his lashes at her.

'You silly beggar.'

'Wait!' he told her grabbing her by the wrist before she could stand. 'I'm sorry we...I fell sick when we had all those plans,' he said as he kissed her palm.

'Don't be silly, John.'

'I mean it. I promise you I won't die and that I will get better soon so we can go back to where we were forced to stop the other night.'

'Now that's a wonderful prospect,' she smiled. 'Keep that promise and be a good patient, no whining and crying like a baby.'

'I promise,' he smiled.

'Honestly...' she stood then and fetched him his towel. 'Men are such funny creatures.'

'But you love me,' he said, rising from the tub with her help. She wrapped him in the towel and he leaned down for her to dry his hair with a smaller one.

'I do, but I also love you when you're healthy and fit and strong,' she giggled, messing his hair as much as she could.

'And hard...' he continued for her.

'John! Forever more… .' She rolled her eyes and gave him a smack on his arm.

'You didn't let me finish. I was going to say, hard working...for heaven's sake? What's wrong with that?' John tried to defend himself.

Anna stared at him for a long moment, unsure whether he was being serious or not. 'Let's get you to bed, mister. Get you well. You have promises to keep.'

The journal entries are written by handy for the bus & terriejane.

We'd like to thank the lovely annamays (aka fuzzydream) for being our beta.

Thank you for reading :) please review