May 1919

John, my love,

Please, please, stop apologizing to me and saying you're sorry for all that's happening to us. Because none of this is your fault. We both know you didn't kill Vera. Surely you made a mistake by marrying her, but it was such a long time ago… We all make mistakes. You couldn't have known it would end up that way. Vera's nefarious deeds are her own, you're not responsible for them. Stop saying you're not worthy of me. You're worth everything to me. I am going through this with you because I want to. You're a kind, gentle and respectful man, and that's more than many women can say of their husband. You are the most precious person in the world to me. My life is so much richer and fuller because you are part of it. I love you so much, I'd give anything and everything to have you hold me close to your chest right now, where I can fell your heart beating. I miss you so much. I miss our chats, I miss your smile and your kind eyes. I want to run my hands on your cheeks, and feel that little dimple you have right there. I miss the feeling of your hands on my body too… In fact, my body remembered it quite well last night, and I woke up from that dream feeling quite hot… I hope it can at least make you smile to know that the memory of your hands and lips on me can bring me to such a state. I am flushing right now, just thinking about it again.

She paused her writing, putting her hands flat on her hot cheeks. The cooling feeling was welcome, to help her tame the desire that had lit up again in her belly, at the thought of that particular dream, and of the night that had fuelled it. She had to bury it deep down, for she knew there was nothing for her to quench that thirst.

I can't wait for Monday next to see you again, even if the available activities will be a bit less fun. I know it will be very hard to refrain myself from touching you.

I'm glad to know no one is mistreating you. I hope it goes on like this. What do you do during the day? I hope you have things to keep your mind occupied and not brood too much. Here it's about the same as usual. Thomas is rather pleased to be his Lordship's acting valet. Makes him feel important, but I know his Lordship misses you very much too. Lady Mary told me. The house is still mourning poor Miss Lavinia. There were a few other cases of flu among the staff, but none too serious fortunately. Dr Clarkson says there's been an awful lot of cases in the village, and several people dead. Mr Matthew is utterly devastated about Miss Lavinia. Each time I catch a glimpse of him, he looks like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. Lady Mary says he feels responsible for her death, because she knew he didn't really love her. Sir Carlysle is still courting Lady Mary, but I can't say I care much about the man. I know we owe him for trying to silence Vera, but I can't bring myself to like him. There's something about him that makes my skin crawl, but obviously I can't tell that to Lady Mary. Though she doesn't seem that much enamoured with him either. I guess she kinds of feels stuck with him now that he knows the full Pamuk story. Who knows what he could do if she turns him down now. He could ruin her reputation. But I'm pretty sure she still has feelings for Mr Matthew. She would never admit them of course.

Anyway. Did you tell the police about you buying the poison? I know you think it would make you look guilty, but I think them finding it out on their own while you didn't tell them would make you look even worse! Please, my darling, tell them if you haven't yet.

I don't know if I'll get another letter from you until I come to visit you on Monday. I look forward to it. Until then, we'll meet every night in my dreams, of that I'm sure. It's comforting, and helps me keep going, although the disappointment of finding myself alone in my little bedroom is also harsh in the morning. I'm sending you plenty of sweet kisses, and also a picture of me, as you asked me to. I went to the village yesterday to have it taken. I hope you'll like it. You're in each and every one of my thoughts, every day.

With all my love always,

your wife,

Anna Bates

She wiped her eyes before folding the sheet of paper and inserting it in an envelop. There had yet to be a day since John's arrest when she didn't cry at least two or three times. Closing the envelop, she inhaled sharply, closed her eyes a few seconds to steady herself, and made her way down to put the letter into the stack of outgoing mail.

x x x x

A crooked smile lingered on his lips as he re-read Anna's letter, especially the part where she talked about her dream. The thought of her flushed and hot made his heart beat faster too, and it made his own physical frustration all the more harder to bear. He breathed slowly in and out to make those intimate thoughts go away, and tried to focus on composing his reply.

Anna, my darling,

Thank you so much for your last letter. You can't know how relieved I am to know that you don't hold any grudge against me despite everything I've made you go through. Believe me, if I had my say in it, things would be so different. If I had my way, I would hold you close to my chest, every morning and every evening, and breathe the sweet perfume of your hair until I'm drunk with it. I would be there to do your every bidding, and you'd never be alone again a single day in your life. You're right in saying that Vera's deeds are her own, but I can't help but feel responsible about them, because it is my coming to Downton that has brought her in your and Lady Mary's life, and has given her the chance of wrecking both your lives on top of mine. I feel sorry for Lady Mary after what you told me about Sir Carlysle and her staying with him because he holds the power to ruin her. I know you're very fond of Lady Mary, and you want her happy. And so I want her happy too, and it is because of my wicked late wife that she won't be. I wish so much that I could change that. I feel sorry for Mr Matthew too. To think of both of them being so unhappy makes me sad. I hope they both find their way in life.

As you hoped, it did make me smile to read about that special dream you had. I must admit I'm having those kind of dreams too. Even sometimes when I'm not asleep… I want you to know, that the pleasure I gave you when we've been together, you can give yourself again, with your own hands. Now you know how these things work. It would make me happy to know that you're doing yourself some good thinking about me. Afterwards you can tell me all about it, and it'll be a bit as if I was with you. Close your eyes at night, and imagine my mouth kissing down your cheek and your neck, then down to your collarbone and down again. Think of your breast fitting so perfectly into the palm of my hand, and my lips gently sucking on your nipple. Put your own hands where mine would go, and do what I would do to you. And when you're at your peak, say my name. I'm sure it will travel through the sky and the stone walls of the prison, and I will hear it, and it will make me happy.

There seem to be no easy transition after that kind of talk, but I'll try anyway. You ask me what I'm doing in the day, apart from thinking about you, of course. Well they are making us work for several hours except on Sundays. I'm sewing jute bags. It's not a very mind-fulfilling job, but at least it keeps our hands occupied. Then we spend half an hour every morning and afternoon going round in circles in the prison yard. There's a prison library where we can borrow some books, so whatever time we have, and when I'm not writing to you or daydreaming about you, I read.

Thank you very much for the picture. Of course it is marvellous, but how could it be otherwise when the model is so beautiful. I'm keeping it in my breast pocket at all times. I can't wait for hours to pass and for Monday to come, so that I can see you. It already feels like I've been in here for years. I feel it's been a century since I've last held you in my arms. I miss you so dearly.

I've been very happily surprised to receive a letter from his Lordship too. He said he was very sorry that he wasn't there when the policemen came for me. He tells me that despite our conversation when I told him how much I resented Vera for preventing the divorce, he didn't think me guilty of murdering her for one second. He says he will have Mr Murray do everything in his power to get me out. I can't believe how kind he is to me. Any other employer would have replaced and forgotten me already, and let me fend for myself. He also wrote that the family will consider their duty to take care of you as long as I find myself in the incapacity of doing it myself. We are both so lucky to call the Crawleys as our employers. I eases my sorrow to know that whatever happens, you will not find yourself destitute and alone. I trust you will always be safe and welcome at Downton.

Please give my best regards to Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. I'll be eagerly waiting for your visit three days from now.

With all my love,

John Bates

x x x x

Her heart beat like a mad drum against her ribs as she waited for him in the visiting room of Ripon's prison. A deep chill had gripped her bones as she had entered the depth of the prison, following the guards through the gloomy corridors and the steely doors. She had only received his last letter that very morning, and it has left her panting, hot and flushed. She had started reading it at the breakfast table in the servant's Hall, but then had hastily put it away in her dress pocket when she had realized what it was saying, before anyone noticed the bright red glow on her cheeks. She had waited until she could find a few minutes of solitude to finish it. Now she was working her hardest to contain her tears and prevent them from falling as the inner sadness of the place crept on her. She didn't want him to see her crying. She startled as the loud clunk of the lock echoed behind her and the guards let the prisoners in. There was no intimacy in here. The large and dull room was filled with one long table, with hard stools on either side of it. On one side, the visitors, mostly women, noticed Anna, were already seated, when the prisoners entered and went to take their seat, each across their relative. Her heart swelled when she saw the bright grin that lit his face as he looked in her eyes. However sad she felt at being here, she couldn't help but grin back. It was so good to see him. Of course he looked less groomed than usually, in his faded prisoner's uniform, instead of his usual neat suit. But his hair, hanging loose on his forehead for lack of pomade to fix it, made him look younger, gave him a sort of boyish air that she had never seen on him, except for the one morning when they had woken up together in the same bed.

- Hello, she said, shyly.

- Hello darling, he replied, his voice hoarse with hardly-choked back tears. I'm so glad to see you.

- Me too. I've missed you.

- I've missed you too. So much.

At that first moment, they had a hard time finding words. Almost all their energy was focused on not climbing on top of the table to meet at mid-path, and devour one another with greedy kisses while sobbing their heart out. In a subconscious urge, John's hand initiated a move towards Anna's, but he stopped short as the harsh voice of a guardian bellowed:

- NO TOUCHING!

John withdrew his hands from the table, and gripped his knees with them, to hold them still. Anna spread hers flat on the table in front of her, pushing slightly on the wood to prevent them from trembling. She looked back up to John, and tried another smile.

- How've you been?

He frowned, searching for an adequate response, but she added:

- Sorry, that's really a stupid question.

- It's alright, he said softly.

How could they hope to have a private conversation among all those people? Then Anna looked around, and noticed that the other pairs were not giving them the slightest attention, all engrossed in their own private conversation. Visiting hours were short, and no one wanted to waste them eavesdropping on the neighbour's talk.

- How's everyone at the House?, he went on.

- Not much different than when you left… Thomas is quite insufferable now that he's been promoted valet in your place. He pretends to agree any time someone mentions you and says they hope you'll be cleared soon, but deep down I'm sure he hopes you stay locked up as long as possible… Although he and Miss O'Brien seem to get bored now that they have no one to bully anymore. I daresay they'll soon find another victim.

- Well they're one pair I'm not missing in here.

- Have you talked to the police? About what I said in my last letter?

He sighed and looked down.

- How can I tell them that I bought the murder weapon?, he replied in a lower voice. When they already think I had motive to kill her? I might as well sign my death sentence right away!

- But don't you see that hiding it is even worse? Please John, you have to!

He looked stubbornly down to the table, crossing his fingers together. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't budge.

- Have you received my last letter?, he asked, changing the subject.

He knew she had indeed when her cheeks flushed crimson at the mere mention of it.

- I have, she chuckled. And I felt quite embarrassed when I started reading it at breakfast this morning! I had to keep it until I managed to lock myself up in the boot room to read it alone.

A naughty gleam lit up his eyes at the thought of her, gasping at the servants' Hall table, and quickly hiding the letter in her pocket.

- Yes, you don't want anyone reading such things over your shoulder.

- I wouldn't know where to hide…

- So?

- So?

- What did you think of my suggestion?

- Hum… I… Church tells us we're not supposed to do this.

- Well. We're not supposed to divorce either, come to think of it.

- I don't know… It wouldn't feel right, somehow, doing this without you…

- But I am asking you to do this. It would make me happy. You'd do it for me, thinking of me.

- And would you do it too? Because I don't see why it should go one way only. This is about sharing.

He smiled. She was so selfless. How could he ever have been blessed with her.

- I could. You know what we could do? We could set up appointments. Let's say… every Tuesday, midnight. We'd both do it, thinking of each other, and it'd be a bit as if we were together. Then we can tell each other about it in our next letter.

She laughed softly.

- You are one naughty boy…

He arched his eyebrows, showing up his hands in defence.

- Well, we don't know how much longer I'm going to be stuck here, so one has to find a way to cope…

- Alright then, Tuesday, midnight.

For a moment, their eyes stayed locked into each other's. Despite the chill and dampness of the place, both felt like the temperature had risen notably. The people around them faded away for a while, as they held each other's intense and meaningful gaze, knowing that they were mentally undressing one another. At last John scratched his throat, and said mournfully, shifting on his stool:

- You need to stop looking at me like that, or I will make a fool of myself when they call us to get out.

She smiled:

- Sorry. But you started it, you can't complain.

- Maybe we need to keep our chats on safer topics.

So they did, as Anna filled him in on every little aspects of daily life at Downton, from Daisy's last mistake to Lady Mary's last row with Lady Edith. They both startled when a guard hit his stick on the steely bars, and shouted:

- TIME OUT!

As all the prisoners got up, John took advantage of the relative bustle to quickly grab Anna's hand, bring it to his cheek, and kiss the inside of her wrist just above her glove. The touch of his lips sent an electric shiver up her arm and down her spine.

- See you next time, he whispered, releasing her hand before any of the guards caught them. Tuesday midnight, he added with a wink. I love you.

She smiled knowingly, and replied:

- I love you John. Take care.

And he was gone. Only later, as she was on the bus back to Downton, and he was back in his cell, did they both allow their tears to fall. He sobbed on his bed, holding her picture tight against his chest, and she wept on the bus, softly caressing the spot where his lips had touched her skin, every other inch of her body protesting in jealousy.