Late October 1919

My beloved Anna,

Today is the day of our six-month wedding anniversary, and I can't believe this is the life I have offered you for our first half-year as man and wife. I wanted to offer you a world of happiness and love and everything I had, and instead I gave you nothing but heartbreak and pain. But when I think of that glorious April day when we stood in the registry office in Ripon, and I looked into your marvellous blue eyes as you said the words "I, Anna May Smith, take thee John Bates as my lawfully wedded husband", I can't bring myself to feel bad about it. That day was undeniably the most beautiful day of my life. I had waited and longed for that moment for seven years, even if I had tried very hard to convince myself that we were not meant to be. And then there was that wonderful wedding night when you granted me the right to explore and worship your perfect body and give myself to you entirely for all eternity. The words are failing me to describe how I felt that night, and how completely happy you made me. From the day I first saw you in the hallway downstairs, I knew you were the most beautiful woman I would ever be allowed to see, and never were you more beautiful than you were, with your hair loose, and your cheeks flushed in pleasure in our wedding bed. And tonight, to celebrate our half-anniversary, I will hold on to these golden hours we were able to share. The day is Tuesday after all…

The moment is coming near when we will know my fate, and I keep repeating myself that even if I have to leave this world, my life will not have been spent in vain, because I have been able to live those moments with you. I will cherish them always. A great poet once wrote:

"I hold it true, whate'er befalls

I feel it, when I sorrow most,

Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all"*

I love you so much Anna, and whatever the future holds for us, no one can ever take this away from us. You have made me happier than I had any right to be. And knowing that you are about to give me a child is making me happier still. I dearly wish I will still be there with you to raise them, but if I'm not, I trust you to craft yourself and them a happy life, which is all you deserve.

I hope you are well, and that the baby isn't bothering you too much. Do you still have those pains you mentioned a while ago? I know Dr Clarkson was not worried about them, but still, it bothers me to think of you in pain. I wish I could take all pain away from you, be it physical or otherwise. To this day I must admit that I have desperately failed in that matter. Is the baby still moving much? It must be such a peculiar feeling… I would give so much to be able to feel it too.

I know I have been pestering you with that question, but have you given further thought to how you will manage with the baby if I'm not back with you when they're born? I know too that it is a situation you are not willing to consider, but I think you really have to. It would ease my mind to know that you have a plan.

The mood is quite gloomy here, I mean even more than usual, because Julian's trial is coming up in a couple weeks. The poor lad is so afraid, I'm feeling pity for him. I hope they aren't too harsh on him…

Anyway. I'm looking forward to reading your next letter, and meanwhile, I'll be with you tonight celebrating our half-anniversary.

Your devoted husband, now and forever,

John Bates.

* In Memoriam AHH, by Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1849

x x x x

My dearest John,

Your last letter made me cry. Of course I feel the same. Our wedding day was the best day in my life too, and I will never forget that amazing night we had together. I can't believe six months have passed already, and we've had to be apart all of that time… If there is a heaven, then it must feel like you made me feel that night, as you introduced me to those new sensations and this world to which I was a stranger. You were so gentle, so kind and considerate, and yet you managed to set me on fire so efficiently. My heart races just when I think back on that night, and the morning after too. I spent some time reminiscing about it too, last Tuesday night. Of course I will love you forever, whatever comes. You write you have given me nothing but heartbreak and pain, but this is so far from the truth. You have given me those precious moments, and the infinite joy of carrying your child. A few years ago, when you were away with Vera, Mrs Hughes asked me how I was feeling, because she deemed a broken heart could be as painful as a broken limb. I told her that I felt lucky, because I had known what true love was, and there aren't so many people who could say the same. I knew that poem by Lord Tennyson, and yes, maybe it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. But better still, is to love all through your life until the day you die of old age, and I still hope we will be allowed to do that. I cannot, will not, believe that the Court will send an innocent man to the gallows, or they do not deserve to call themselves "justice". I know that my and our child's future is your main concern, and that you wish to know how I will deal with it if ever I am forced to raise them alone. I have exchanged more letters with my sister Leslie lately, and it seems things are getting worse and worse for her with her husband. She would like to run away from him, but doesn't know where to go. I wondered if I could ask Mrs Hughes and Lady Mary if they would allow me to bring her to Downton and share my room. It would kill two birds with one stone really. She would be safe from her husband, and I'd have help with the baby. I don't know if they would be alright with it though. I wouldn't ask for any more money, I'll use my wages and our savings to pay for anything she needs. I could even pay for her food. It is the best solution I have come up with for now, that doesn't include me leaving my job and Downton altogether. Fortunately we still have three months to figure it out. And I still hope we won't need it.

The baby has been quite active lately. Now, when I'm lying in bed at night, with only my nightgown on, I can see them moving in my belly. It is rather strange… The other day, Lady Mary took me up in the attics, and she made me go through all the baby stuff that was stored in there, from when the Crawley sisters were children! She gave me a number of pretty baby clothes, and she insisted I take a bassinet in which all three of them had slept as babies. I was quite embarrassed but she wouldn't take no for an answer. There was a baby high chair too, that she said I could use when the baby is old enough to sit in it. So all in all, I will only need to buy a pram and I'll be all set. I'll go and see to it when I'm in town in a few weeks. It makes me feel so bittersweet to be doing all of this, but not with you. There are so many things we could have discussed or even argued over… Right now I would even welcome an argument with you, because it would mean we are together and have enough time to spare to spend it arguing! I'm missing you from dawn to dusk, and then the other way around. I'm praying for you every day, and for Julian too. I hope his verdict is not too harsh. Will you still be sharing a cell afterwards, if he's convicted?

I need to go now, the gong has just rung. I'm sending you my endless love.

Anna Bates

x x x x

My dear Anna,

I'm so glad to read that you are getting everything ready for the baby. I would have loved to do this with you, and yes, even if it included some arguing! Lady Mary was very kind to give you all these things. I daresay she's quite fond of you… Who wouldn't be, you're such an angel. I know what you are going to answer to that, but those who don't like you are sad buggers. I pity them. I find it so unbelievable that no other man saw the little wonder that you are and tried to capture your heart before I came along. Maybe it would have been better for you, but well. I was glad to read in your last letter that you thought I brought you some good amidst all the hurt. I do feel lucky too to have known that love we have between us. It is what sustained me every day I was forced to spend away from you, either with Vera or in here.

About the plan to bring your sister at Downton, I would feel better to know that you have a close relative helping you through everything. But I'm afraid Mrs Hughes or the family would frown upon taking in a married woman running away from her husband… What if he finds her and comes at the house to cause trouble? That's not even mentioning whether they would agree to acommodate a person that wouldn't technically be their employee. Have you talked to them yet? What did they say?

Julian is getting more and more nervous by the day. His trial is next week now, and he's close to losing his wits. I try to toughen him up a bit, and he's seen his lawyer too a few times lately. They are planning on pleading for involuntary manslaughter, since he says he never intended to kill the man, but just to fight him for what the bloke did to his sister, and it so happens that he fell the wrong way against some stony stair and hit his head. I hope the jury sees that. He's really not a bad lad, he just got carried away with anger. I think I would too if I learnt someone had done such a thing to you… Just like any man would if it happened to a woman he loved, be it as a wife or as a sister. If he's convicted, he will be moved to another quarter of the prison. Our current quarter houses only men awaiting their trial. So yes, whether he's convicted or not, these are our last days sharing a cell. A few days ago, there was a little ray of joy in all this mess, when he received a letter telling him that his other sister, the older one, has given birth to a little girl, named Polly. The mother and the baby were doing well at the latest news. It really did cheer him up, and I was glad for him.

My own heart is lighter tonight for the knowledge that I will be seeing you in three days' time. I'm sure you've got bigger still since last time you came to visit. I can't wait to get a glimpse of you and our baby. The two of you are the topic of my happiest dreams. Whatever happens to me, I hope I have the joy of meeting our child.

I love you, I know I'm repeating myself, but I don't think there such a thing as saying "I love you" too many times, is there? See you on Monday my love.

John

x x x x

- How are you darling?, he asked with a smile as he sat on his stool opposite her.

- Fine, thank you, she answered.

- I was right, you've got bigger in the last two weeks…, he smiled.

- Imagine how I'll look like three months from now…

- I can't wait to see it…

None of them lingered on the fact that they didn't know if he would be there to see it.

- How are the pains going? Are they better? Or worse?

- About the same… Dr Clarkson said they were ligaments pain, because my body is making room for the baby, so there's no reason they should disappear, since the baby is getting bigger. But he advised for hot towels, and they do help a little.

- Good. I'm sorry you have to bear this.

- Well, I guess this is not so bad compared to childbirth… But it's part of a woman's life, there's nothing to be done about it.

- Still, I wish I could take the pain for you.

She smiled sadly.

- I know. That's sweet of you.

They held each other's gaze in silence for a moment. Then Anna chuckled.

- What is it?, asked John. What's so funny?

- Nothing, it's just I thought back on what you wrote in your last letter, how you couldn't believe no other man had tried to court me before you.

- Yes?

- Well, I never told you, but while you were away with Vera, Mr Molesley gave it a go…

- Oh, did he? Well I'm not so surprised, because he had asked me about you once. If I remember well, it was on the day of the garden party when the war broke out, back in 1914.

- Oh, wow, I had no idea.

- So, what did you tell him when he approached you? I'm curious…

- Well, I told him I would love you always, even if I knew I wouldn't see you ever again, so I was not free for him.

- Your life would have been a lot quieter though, if you had accepted his courting.

- But I did not love him. Once I was discussing Sir Carlisle with Lady Mary, and the fact that she thought of accepting him, even though she did not love him as much as she had loved Mr Matthew. And she said that when our first love is not available anymore, it didn't mean that we couldn't find someone else and still have a life. And I said that for me, it did. I would never have taken anyone else but you. Whatever troubles come with you.

John had no word to answer to that, and only looked at her with unshed tears shining in his eyes. After a while, he blinked, and sighed, and went on:

- Have you heard more from your sister? Have you talked to someone at the house about her?

- Not yet… I'm rather anxious they'll say no… Leslie suggested we didn't tell them that she's married and running away. Just tell them she's a widow or something. But I don't feel comfortable lying to them, when they've been so good to us. It wouldn't be fair on them I think.

- No, you're right, I wouldn't condone that.

- So I will talk to them and tell them the truth. Hopefully they'll be understanding. Beyond my need for assistance with the baby, I'm really worried for her. Each letter she writes me, she tells me more and more horrifying things. I learnt that she has been pregnant too, some months ago, and one day, when she was about five months along, he beat her so hard that she lost the baby…

Tears were now shining in Anna's eyes, and her hands had come to settle on her belly in a defensive instinct.

- Jesus…, sighed John. I don't understand how any man could do that to a woman. That's awful.

- Alcohol…, stated Anna.

- Yes. Alcohol does make men do stupid and awful things, he replied darkly. Many of the prison's inhabitants wouldn't be here in the first place if it wasn't for alcohol.

He knew that for a fact. And in that moment, he was so very glad he had managed to quit that false friend. He couldn't bear the thought that he might have been able to do such horrible things to Anna under its influence.

- I'm afraid he'll end up killing her one day, she said in a wavering voice. So I'll try and convince Mrs Hughes and Lady Mary to take her in.

- Do you want me to write a letter to his Lordship to plead your case?

- Do you think it would help?

- Maybe… I know his Lordship has a good heart…

- I guess it can't hurt.

- Alright, I will then.

- But please wait until I ask you too. I need to talk to them first.

- Right.

- Thank you.