My Dearest Eamon,

Enough time has passed since our last correspondence and since then I've received a surprising, but nevertheless pleasing visit. The questions this visit presented me with is not something I like to discuss or remember, but it seemed right at the moment, for some odd reason.

I haven't told you, maybe out of a fear of spoiling it, or maybe because I thought you shouldn't know about it just yet, but our son has been telling me by letter and on his visits, about this sweet girl who works with him at the big house of Downton Abbey. Of course knowing him as well as I do, I know when he speaks of her only as his friend, he means that his heart has already been taken. You see, he's so much like you, never mentions anything without a purpose, without a passionate meaning behind it. Anna Smith is her name, and she was indeed the one who visited me. Only proving my point the more valid. She's as keen on him as he is on her, and that, my dear Eamon, makes me just so happy.

This Yorkshire girl, head housemaid at the big house, judging by John's words has the sweetest of spirits. Hard worker, kind and loving, loyal and a sight for sore eyes. Bonny lass, you would say if you saw her. When she knocked at my door and presented herself I had quite the surprise, as you may imagine, but when she told me what she wanted from me I did recognise her as that Miss Smith from our son's letters and high speech. She came in need of the truth.

She asked me about John and his affairs with the police and of course I told her. I told her about Vera and how nasty she had behaved. You know what I am speaking of. Miss Smith however did not flinch. She is a fierce one, Eamon. She believed my every word and she even told me she knew Mr Bates to be the most noble man she had ever met, and why she needed to know what happened, because, and unsurprisingly, if you ask me, John didn't want to tell her the truth. She left with her heart at ease. We shared a pot of tea and a nice chat. I do hope we can meet again, maybe as more than friends now.

This happened a few months ago, and since then I've been thinking about all that money you have sent me since Johnny was a lad, and I've been saving, could now come in handy. I didn't feel right in giving it to him as long as that witch Vera was in the picture, but now Anna Smith is the reason John needs to find her and divorce her for good. Now you know I'm a believer of 'till death do us part', but in some rare cases that is not to be. I know you agree with me on this.

All I want is to see our son happy and you should see how his eyes sparkle every time he mentions Miss Smith, or how his words become rather poetic when he writes about her. I know she would make him the happiest of men. Give him the family he deserves. In that you and he are most different...he doesn't have the sea in his blood. He was born to be a husband and a father, I've known that since he was a little boy.

Maybe this is all to come true. Maybe, one day, you will come back and see your son truly happy. I just hope he can forgive you and give you a chance. Our letters would be the proof he would need to know that you have never really abandoned us, not in the way he thinks you did. You should come back, you know. Not now but in the future, and we can talk to him, tell him the truth, explain everything. I know it was hard on me when you left, but time does heal, and love, well... real love, true love never dies.

I never speak of the matters of the heart in the beginning of my letters, as you always do. I like to leave those for the end, when I am settled into my words…

Every time I write I fear you won't answer back. Every time there's post I fear it's a letter about you but not from you. We are old Eamon, and death is as sure as living, and I fear that we won't see each other again. But if we don't... know that I took my love for you to my grave and as long as I live you will be the only man that I've ever wanted. Just promise you will come back one day, at least to see your son again.

With all my love, Margaret Bates

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November 23, 1927 ~

His name is Eamon Finnbar Bates and he is my father.

I don't know what to think beyond that. It feels like a major part of my life has been a lie, as told to me by my very own mother... I've read and reread her letter to him, apparently one of many. It's clear from her written words that she still loved him dearly, right up until the day she died. I don't know why he left us but I never heard Mother say a bad word against him, while in my younger years I defamed him on a regular basis.

I recall now, that night she passed... I was sitting on her bed, leaning up against the head of it. She'd asked me to read to her from a book of Robert Burns. The lamp was burning quite low, I couldn't see the words but it didn't matter as I knew the text from memory. Her breathing was shallow and laboured. After a time she rested her hand on my arm and looked up at me and said in a clear, strong voice, 'Remember son, real true love never dies.' And then she closed her eyes and smiled, as if she was already seeing her angels and she was gone.

I have much to think about. Much to come to terms with... I do know this though, if she loved him half as much as I love my Anna, well, nothing, not even time and distance would change that. My love would be strong and sure and steadfast until my final moment on this earth.

Anna says I should give him a chance to explain. Perhaps she's right, she usually is, but I'm not sure how this could be explained away. Maybe it can't. Maybe it only must only be accepted. Perhaps it's just something I'll learn to live with.

~John Bates

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Coming to Terms

John stared into the mirror above the bathroom sink. Several buttons of his undershirt now undone. His shirt, vest and jacket were hanging from the hook on the back of the door. The headache that had been building all day finally exploded behind his red eyes. He'd come in to search the medicine cabinet for a Beecham's powder, and here he found himself several moments later looking back at his image in the mirror. Why hadn't he seen it that first night? Anna had. The same features, same eyes...there was no denying it, he was his father's son. He remembered when he was young and people would tell them just that. He remembered the pride he had felt. All he wished for now was to turn away from that image.

How could a man abandon his wife and child? How could he keep on living, knowing what he had left behind? Did he ever regret his decision? Why did he do it? John would rather die than to desert Anna and the children. His family was the most important thing in the world to him. He could not live without them. And yet, his own father had walked away, never to be heard from again...until now.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Anna's arm reach for her stockings and knickers drying on a line over the tub, but before he could turn she surprised him and she threw one arm over his shoulder,wrapping a silk stocking around his neck and pulling him to her. John faced her then, with a sweet smile, the delicate fabric caressing his skin.

'Are you admiring yourself, Mr Bates?' Anna asked, knowing that wasn't the case, but to cheer him.

'Oh you know me...a vainer man has yet to walk the earth.' He played along, running his hands around her middle and pulling her closer to him. Her tender eyes making everything so much better.

'Are you giving it some thought?' she asked. He knew exactly what she meant. 'What have you decided?'

'Oh, I really don't know, Anna,' he sighed, one of his hands cupping her cheek as he buried his face in her neck. 'I am troubled by it all…'

She looked up at him. 'Let's go downstairs...I left the children playing on the floor. William is very much focused on making the babies laugh.'

'Now that's something that will cheer me up,' he paused, 'and that's exactly why it's so hard to under-'

'Not all men are meant to be husbands and fathers,' she told him, laying her hand on his chest, her fingertips playing at the hollow of his throat. 'I'm just so glad that I found the perfect one in you.'

He smiled and she pulled him down for a kiss. Her lips terribly daring, playing with his own. They parted shortly in need of air and then moved to join William and the twins downstairs.

'What do we have here?' Anna asked as they entered the front room.

'Finn and Fee really like it when I pull my tongue out like this.' William showed his funny routine of tricks to his mum and dad while the girls laid on the floor on a soft quilt, squealing and kicking their legs in the air.

Once Will's show was over he wrinkled his nose and pointed to his father's neck. 'What's that, Daddy? Why do you have Mummy's sock around your neck? You're not supposed to touch them else they'll get a ladder in them and Mum will yell.'

' Oh…right...' John cocked one eyebrow at Anna, taking the stocking from around his neck and giving it to her. 'Right you are lad. I won't do that again, but they're just so soft.'

Will nodded knowingly.

'May I sit with you, son?'

'Sure Dad.'

Will faced his sisters again, and as soon as John sat down on the floor, his back to the sofa, Fee began to flail her arms begging to be picked up. 'Come here my darling,' he said, reaching for her.

'I'm going to make some tea. I'll be right back,' Anna called as she headed for the kitchen. By the time she returned, John and William were having a funny face contest while the twins watched them attentively, the winner being the one who made the girls laugh the most.

Anna placed the tea tray on the side table.

'William wins. They think he's funnier than I am,' John told Anna as he bent forward so she could sit down on behind him on the sofa, with him leaning back between her legs.

'Well, he is.' Anna chuckled and John looked up at her, resting his head back on her lap.

'Don't mind your mother, my love,' he said to Fee, who was still comfortable in his arms. 'I just don't show all my potential at once, that's all.' He kissed the girl's chubby cheek, making the little one smile happily at him. 'Can you kiss, daddy? Give daddy a kiss.'

He brought the girl to his face, not expecting what would follow next; Fee opened her mouth and placed a wet, sloppy kiss on her father's cheek, before laughing at her own accomplishment or his reaction to it.

'Aw, Anna! Did you see that? She gave me a kiss...did you give me a kiss, my little love?'

'How sweet!' Anna clapped her hands and crawled from behind John to join them all on the floor. 'They're growing up so fast,' she said teary-eyed. It was now Finn's turn to beg for her mother's arms.

'Soon they will be walking…' John sighed. 'And kicking William when they do.' He laughed, looking at his son, waiting for his answer.

'No!' the boy said. 'My sisters will be nice, daddy.'

'They will, darling. I was only joking,' he replied, mussing William's hair. 'Say, look here, Will. Mum brought chocolate biscuits in with tea.' John held the plate out to the boy just as Jack wandered into the room and upon seeing the proffered plate of biscuits promptly helped himself.

'Jack!' A collective yell went up. Jack just looked back over his shoulder laughing at the family as he walked out to the kitchen.

'Are you feeling better now?' Anna asked John, leaning into him and kissing his cheek. The babies were beginning to fuss in their arms. Bedtime would soon to come.

'I am...my family always makes me feel better,' he smiled.

'I don't like when you are sad, Daddy.' William said, getting up from the floor and placing a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. 'I like when you're funny and play with us...I don't like when you brood.'

Anna gave John a look, that look. 'See…' she muttered.

'You're right, Will,' John nodded. 'I'll try not to brood anymore.'

'Good!' the boy exclaimed, hugging his dad's neck and yawning loudly in his ear.

'All right, it's time for bed. Everyone's rather tired.' Anna commanded, standing from the floor with Finn in her arms.

That night, after stories were told and the children were sound asleep, they came down for a glass of milk and a couple of the chocolate biscuits that Jack hadn't slobbered over and some special time together. The fire was burning low and silence prevailed, taking them back to memories before their babies had come along. They wouldn't have it any other way now. The crying, the laughs, the silly jokes. Their children growing up before their eyes.

John thought to himself there had to be a good reason to abandon all that. To leave those wonderful moments behind and forget about how special every single one of them is. Did his father miss it? he wondered...and decided he would only know if he asked. What reason did he have to leave? Why did he never come back? And why was he here now? What did he want?

He had to come to terms with it and for that, he would have to see him again.

'Do you know where he is?' he asked Anna, their mugs already empty as they sat together on the sofa. Her legs over his, his hands on her feet, caressing away the tiredness of the day.

'I do. Why?'

'Well...I think...you're right.'

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November 24th, 1927 10:15pm

John went to talk to his father after dinner tonight. He's staying at Workman's boardinghouse. It's just at the end of the lane. He's been gone almost two hours. Should it be that long? I...I don't know. Is it a good sign he's not back? Oh dear, please Lord, please let it go well for him. For both of them.

The children are tucked away in bed. William didn't like missing his daddy's bedtime story I can tell you and it got me to thinking how many bedtime stories John missed growing up. Oh, I know Mrs Bates was a wonderful mother and she did for him as much as she could, but still, when a young boy is used to having his father...my poor John.

While I wait, I've been reading over her letter. I don't pretend to understand the what was going on between them. It was an odd situation. A couple of correspondences every year and that's it? Yet from this one letter it would appear she loved him deeply, still.

This much I do understand...

...we are old Eamon, and death is as sure as living, and I fear that we won't see each other again. But if we don't... know that I took my love for you to my grave and as long as I live you will be the only man that I've ever wanted...

Time and separation matter not. I know separation all too well and if John were taken away from me again, tonight I would love him until the end of my days. Margaret Bates was right, you know... real love, true love never dies.

Oh, John's home…

To be continued…

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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. Your reviews are very much appreciated. :)