Late August 1919
Anna, my darling,
I hope my letter finds you well in London. Please don't be sorry for missing our next visit. We both know you have a job to do and you must do it. If the family is going to London and the ladies wish you to come with them, of course you must go. I am well aware that you cannot organize all your life around our visits, even if I will miss you of course.
He closed his eyes briefly, and sighed. In his previous letters, since she had told him about the upcoming trip, he had refrained himself from writing to which point he would miss her visiting. How it would hurt to see his inmates gathering for the visiting hour, and him going back to his cell alone. But he couldn't tell her that, otherwise she would have felt guilty and tried to get out of her London trip with the Crawley ladies, and he didn't want that.
But, unfortunately I should say, there will be many other visits… I do hope the travel has not worn you out too much. Remember to take care of yourself and our baby. Maybe you'll have a little time to relax and rest when the ladies are out? I hope you have good weather so you can maybe go take a little walk in the parks if you feel up to it. I would so love to walk through Hyde Park with you. It's been so long since I last was in London. I hope too that Miss O'Brien isn't too nasty to you. If she is please report her to Mrs Hughes, I don't want you to let her bully you. But I know you can fend for yourself, you've shown it to me time and again, and I'm proud of you for that.
How big are you becoming these days? A full month will have passed between our last and our next visit, so I guess I will find a rather noticeable difference… I can't wait to see it for myself. There's a goofy grin on my face just to think about you with a large round belly and our little baby hidden in it. You could never have given me a better gift. Have you started to prepare anything for the baby? To think about what you will want to do when they're born? Will you want to continue working? Do you wish for a boy or a girl? I know I don't mind a bit. I will love them endlessly either way.
Nothing much to tell you about in here. The days are dull and identical. Julian and I are still reading, we've started on Dickens's books. I had read some of them as a teenager, but Julian had not, so I'm re-reading them with him. I daresay it sometimes puts our own troubles into perspective…
I'm eagerly waiting for your next letter, and as usual, I send you my deepest and sincerest love.
Yours forever, John Bates.
x x x x
John, my darling husband,
I am sitting right now in Hyde Park on a bench under a large tree, sheltering me from the sun. The air is warm, there's a light wind in my hair, and I can hear birds tweeting and watch squirrels running about. And you are here with me, just beside me. If I close my eyes I imagine that I can touch your hand right next to mine. I try to imagine the chat we could have had, and I hear your soft chuckle. I look at the mothers walking by with their children, or pushing a pram, and it makes me smile as I remember that our own little baby is right here with me. Sometimes I see a whole family pass, with the mother and the father, and it feels bittersweet. I hope our child will have the chance of having its own father to grow up with. Neither of you both deserve otherwise.
Big news: yesterday, I felt our baby move for the first time. Or rather, it was the first time I was really sure it was the baby moving. It feels rather strange, and I had already felt that a few times over the last week, but I wasn't really sure what it was. I was very happy, and I wish you had been there next to me so I could put your hand on my belly and share it with you. You ask me if I wish for a boy or a girl, and just like you, I'll answer that I don't mind one tiny bit. The only important thing to me, is that they're healthy, and that you are back with us before they're born. The rest is detail. I will love them however, whatever, whenever. You ask me if I have started preparing anything, and yes, I have. I've knitted and sewn a few newborn-sized clothes and crib-sized sheets, and diapers. I haven't bought anything though, because I feel it's still too soon. About how I would make it work when the baby's born, that I don't know yet. It depends so much on the trial's outcome…
She tensed as she wrote her following sentence. She didn't want to think or write about that, but she had to face the truth. It could happen.
If ever you are not back with me by the time the baby's born, I don't think I want to quit my job. Even if I am left with enough money to support myself and the baby, I wouldn't like to live alone with the baby, and not see anyone else. I'd go crazy I think. I don't want to go back to my family, and you haven't got any family for me to go to. My family is at the Abbey now, so I think I'd like to stay there. They already said they'd let me. How I am going to keep on working and raise the baby, that I haven't figured out yet. But I'm sure we'll find a way, between me, Lady Mary and Mrs Hughes.
The stay in London is going well. Lady Mary is being very considerate as to lightening my duties, and she's watching Lady Edith's back… But I really do feel quite well, much better than I did during the first three months. Miss O'Brien is her usual self, but she knows better than to pester me. And she knows I don't give a rat's ass about what she thinks of me, so that makes her potential bullying much less fun. Back at the house, everybody knows now, because as you wondered in your last letter, I'm really showing now. Even if I wear my dresses loose, no one can miss it. Apart from Miss O'Brien, who audibly mumbled that I always found a pretext to put some of my work on her shoulders (which isn't true of course), the rest of the servants were quite supportive, or polite at worst. I think Mr Carson has finally made the best of it, and he's rather helpful now. Surprisingly, Thomas seems to have become softer since I officially broke the news to the downstairs people.
Since I had some free time, I went to check on your mother's house. I know we have to wait until after the trial to know if we can make anything of it, but we could put it on the renting market I think. It's not in a bad state. It isn't very clean, of course over the last months it has become quite dusty, and there's a lot of stuff lying around, but nothing that a few hours of work could not solve. I started going through all the things and sorting out what should be kept or sold and what needs to go to waste. It kept me busy for a while…
We are going home three days from now, and I'm looking forward to our next visit. I miss you dearly, every hour of every day, and I count the minutes until we meet again. I love you always.
Anna.
x x x x
My lovely wife,
I am glad that you have had a good time in London. You needn't have troubled yourself with working in my mother's house though. I hope you haven't overdone it. I'm relieved that you don't have to hide your state at the house anymore, although I must say I'm a little jealous that everyone can see your growing belly everyday when I can't… I guessed Miss O'Brien would have something nasty to say, of course. I'm glad to read that you don't care about her, you're very right. She doesn't deserve your time and attention. You know who's worthy of you, and she's not one of them. I must say I was a little surprised about Mr Barrow too, but well, we'll see how it goes. Don't trust him too fast though. We've both been witness to his schemes.
I hear what you say about not quitting your job. I understand your reasons. I wish I had a family to offer you protection if ever I can't anymore. My mother, if she was still with us, would have welcomed you with open arms, I'm sure of that. But I know you're strong, and I trust you, and I know you will find your own way, if one day I'm not here anymore to walk beside you.
Anna's throat felt tight as she read the words. As hard as she tried to not think about a future without John in it, the daunting perspective came back to haunt her every day. She swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill out, and continued reading.
I was so thrilled to read about the baby moving! It must be such a wonderful feeling, past the surprise and uncertainty. I picture in my head the little clothes you tell me you've been sewing and knitting, and it makes me all soft inside. Would you bring some to show me next time you come visit, so that I can better see how they look like? Please use all the money you need to buy things for our baby. A crib, a pram, anything else you'd need for them. I don't know if you'd want to stay at the house with the baby, I was thinking maybe I could write to his Lordship to ask him if you could have the cottage to live in with the baby, even if I'm not there? Think about it, and let me know next time.
I'm so looking forward to seeing you next Monday, the hours feel like days and the days like months. I feel it's been a century since I last saw you. I love you, every day a little bit more. I want to hold you close in my arms, your cheek resting against my heart, my cheek on your soft hair, and my arms wrapped around you in protection, like we did that evening in the Abbey's backyard, when you told me you'd bear anything, except for me to go away again. I promised you I wouldn't, and I failed you. Believe me I would gladly give anything to be back with you and hold you again.
This time Anna did not manage to refrain her tears from falling. A rush of hatred for Vera ran through her. All this pain was because of her. She would never forgive her for that. Not that Vera would ever mind.
I hope you can forgive me. See you on Monday, with all my love,
Yours for ever, John Bates.
x x x x
His eyes widened as he walked through the gloomy visiting room on the first Monday of September, and took in her new physical appearance. As he had foreseen, in a month, her belly had grown substantially. She smiled shyly at him.
- So? What do you think?, she asked.
He had to take a few seconds to gather himself and take control on the emotions that were running wild through him. She noticed his red eyes, and he scratched his throat before answering hoarsely:
- You're beautiful. I missed you.
She beamed.
- Four months and a half, almost, she stated. I'm halfway done.
He chuckled.
- Would you stand up a little while, so I can see you better?, he asked sheepishly.
She obliged, putting her light summer coat off, and smoothing her dress over her stomach to show him the new swell.
- Yes, you are so very beautiful. I'd like to kiss you and hold you very much.
- I know, she said, looking at him with that bittersweet look in her eyes. I'd like that too, very much.
- How are you these days?
- Quite well, really. I've been having some little pains in my lower back and belly, but I don't think it's anything serious.
- Oh. Would you go have a check with Dr Clarkson, just to be sure?
She shot him a teasing look.
- Would that ease your mind?
- It would ease my mind.
- Alright, she said. I will then. But I know it's nothing.
- Thank you. Have you thought about what I suggested in my last letter?
- About the cottage? Yes, I did. But I don't think I'd like that. I think I'd feel too lonely on my own with the baby in a cottage. To me the cottage was our future. If you're not there in it with me, I don't want it. And I'd have a hard time affording the rent, even if his Lordship lets it to me at a lower price. So, no, I don't think it's necessary for you to write to him about that. I'd feel better in my room at the Abbey. It's a double room but I've been alone in it since Ethel left, so there'll be room for a baby.
- Alright, yes, I understand.
- But I still hope you'll be back with me by then, and we can live in the cottage as a family.
He looked down to his hands, unable to counter what was left of her optimism.
- I do too, he agreed, although he had difficulties putting his heart into it.
- I've had news from my sister, she continued, overlooking his downcast demeanor.
- Oh?
- She's written to me. I knew she had married about a year ago, a few months before we did. It looks like she's been less lucky than I have though.
He shot her a perplex look:
- You… consider yourself lucky?!
She chuckled:
- Well, yes, I mean, not regarding our general situation, no, but if I must consider my husband's choice, yes. See, her husband turned out to be a drunken and violent man. She's very unhappy.
- Oh.
- I'm lucky to have found the best of men. There isn't a better one in all the world.
His eyes shone bright with tears now.
- And I'm the luckiest of men to have my angel of a wife. And I'm very sad for your sister. We never met but if she's like you, she deserves better than a violent drunkard.
- She does, Anna replied pensively.
- Can we do anything to help her?
- I've been thinking about it, and I don't quite see what… She could try and ask for a divorce, but you know as well as I do how difficult it is for a woman…
- I know. I'm sorry.
- Anyway. I'll keep thinking over it, and I hope something will turn up. I love her, even if we've been apart for so long.
- I hope so too.
Anna paused for a moment, a worried frown on her brow. Then her face lit up:
- Oh, I almost forgot!
She started rummaging in her bag, and pulled out something white and fluffy.
- You asked me to show you some of the baby's clothes: here's a little cardigan, and a pair of woolen boots.
She put the items on the table halfway between her and John and pulled her hands back. John reached for them and held them up, first the cardigan, and then the small boots.
- Jesus… Is it really supposed to be that small?
Anna laughed.
- Yes it is…
John had put the clothes back on the table and caressed the soft white wool with the palm of his hand.
- It's so beautiful. You're very talented.
- Oh this is not complicated, she said dismissively.
- But our baby will be very well-dressed, thanks to your skilled hands.
- I was thinking of knitting some woolen socks for you too, and maybe Julian? Autumn is coming near, and I bet it will get chilly in here.
- That'd be very kind, but I don't want to put any more work on your shoulders.
- Oh this isn't work. I love knitting, it soothes my mind. I'd be glad to do it for you and your mate.
- Well then. Thank you.
John took the baby cardigan one more time, and brought it to his face, and inhaled the scent of fresh wool. It also smelled like Anna, since she had held the wool in her lap all the time she had been making it. Then he put it back in the middle of the table, with the little boots and said:
- Here, take it back. Thank you so much for showing them to me. I can't wait to see them on our baby.
She looked back at him with a smile as she took back the two little white items, and he read in her eyes the painful question to which neither had an answer. Would he be there to see it?