Hi everyone! So, I must be honest, the plotline occuring in this chapter is one of the main reasons I have started this story at all. ;)

I hope you like it. (Oh, and I realized after having published the previous chapter that I had sent Lady Mary on her honeymoon without Anna... Oh well. Too much going on at the same time!)

Anyway, this chapter is entirely about Banna, my first fanfic love interest!

Royal Brompton Hospital, London

John Bates felt a chill creep up his spine as he hurried down the hospital corridor. Last time he had entered a hospital, he had witnessed his beloved daughter's passing, and although it had been about six years ago, there were things time didn't heal. He had no idea what kind of situation awaited him behind the ward's closed doors. How bad was Vera? The telegram had seemed ominous, but it dated from three days back. Had things improved, or worsened since? Was Vera even still alive? He shuddered at the thought. Even if he longed to be free from his commitment to her, and to be able to finally marry Anna, he didn't wish for Vera's death. Life had brought them apart, but the resentment between them wasn't that bad. When he arrived in front of the ward he had been told Vera was in, he let out a long sigh, and pushed in. The smell immediately took him back in time, and unwelcome memories assaulted him, both from Charlotte's death and from his own very long stay in hospital. The smell of disease and death was the same everywhere. He was standing motionless near the door, unsure where to look next, when a harried-looking nurse stopped in her track, looking him up and down.

- Sir?, she asked. May I help you?

Bates shook himself from his reminiscences, and replied:

- Er, yes, please. I am looking for Mrs Vera Bates. I am her husband.

The nurse's face fell immediately as he uttered the name.

- Oh, yes, er, let me go and fetch the Head Nurse. She'll see you in her office.

And before he could ask anything more, she was gone. So he stayed put, with a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Surely this wasn't a good sign. If Vera was on the mend, the nurse would have brought him straight to her… It wasn't long before the Head Nurse, a middle-aged bony nun, appeared from inside the ward and came to him.

- Ah, Mr Bates, there you are. If you'd like to come with me please?

When she had ushered him into her office, and showed him to a seat in front of her old wooden desk, she put her hands flat on said desk, and started in a kind voice:

- Mrs Bates was brought to our hospital on Tuesday last week. Our doctor soon came to the conclusion that Mrs Bates was suffering from a morbid sore throat, otherwise known as diphtheria. Despite all our efforts, the disease took over, and I'm sorry to have to tell you that she passed away in the late hours of the evening yesterday.

Bates sighed out and brought the tips of his fingers to his eyelids, massaging them lightly. He had no feelings left for Vera, but still, he felt that he mourned her death. She had been, after all, the only person who could remember Charlotte as he did. Even his mother had never seen his daughter save on that same photograph that he still cherished.

- I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr Bates, said the nun, sympathetically.

- Thank you, he murmured.

- Would you maybe wish to see her? She is still down at the morgue.

- Er… yes, I would, thank you, he said after a short moment of thought.

He felt he wanted to say his goodbye to her.

- I'll show you the way, said the Head Nurse, getting up from her chair.

The somewhat lengthy way to the morgue, which was situated three floors below the ward, was walked in silence. Bates saw the nun's hand moving on her rosary as she walked. He didn't ask if Vera had suffered much. He had already seen in the past people dying from diphtheria, and knew it was not a quiet and easy death. A few tears came unbidden to his eyes when he thought of what Vera must have endured in the last few days, while he was celebrating happily with his friends in Downton. At last they arrived, and after having checked on the morgue register, the nun led him to Vera.

- I'll leave you in privacy for a moment, she said, stepping back after she had unveiled Vera's face from her shroud.

- Thank you, he whispered.

Indeed Vera's face bore the marks of a death from lack of air. It wasn't a pretty sight, and his stomach lurched a bit. He closed his eyes for a short moment, collecting himself, then talked quietly. He didn't touch her, as the nun had warned him not to.

- I'm so sorry Vera… I'm sorry I could never be the husband you needed. I hope you're well now, wherever you are. I hope you'll find Charlotte again.

In truth, he didn't believe in an afterlife, nor in Heaven or Hell. But he found, in that moment, as he had when Charlotte had died, that it was easier to pretend that he did.

- Goodbye Vera, he concluded. Rest in peace.

And he turned back to the nurse who had stayed a few feet back, waiting for him to pay his respects to his late wife. As they were walking the hospital corridors again, on their way back to the Head Nurse's office, she said:

- Before she was too far gone, Mrs Bates has detailed to me the whereabouts of your daughter. Surely you will want to go and fetch her now?

As she turned her head to look at him, waiting for his reply, she had the surprise to notice that he had stopped in his tracks a few steps back, and wore a stunned look on his face. She walked back to him, and asked:

- Mr Bates? Is anything the matter?

Bates stuttered:

- I… I'm sorry, what did you just say?

- I said that Mrs Bates has told me that your daughter has been left in the care of a Mrs Audrey Bartlett. She has also trusted me to keep her birth certificate until I could reach you and give it to you.

John's mind was whirling with shock. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Vera had somehow managed to fake Charlotte's death, back then. But no… it couldn't be. He had himself seen the lifeless body of his daughter. He had been there, mad with grief, when the undertaker had closed the tiny coffin. So no, it couldn't be Charlotte the nurse was talking about.

- I…, he mumbled again. I… don't understand. I don't have a daughter. Our daughter died six years ago.

At his words, the nun looked taken aback.

- But Mrs Bates has told me about a fifteen-month-old baby, and has provided me a birth certificate, mentioning her name as mother, and a "John William Bates" as father. Are you telling me you knew nothing of this child?

- I certainly did not, he replied. And my wife and I have been living separately for more than five years. So if there is only one thing I know about this child, it's that I am not her father…

x x x x

Margaret Bates's apartment, London

John Bates stared at his mother in disbelief, while she was squinting her old eyes over the birth certificate.

- Good Lord, exhaled the old lady. That's… And she never told you about her?

- Not a word. I went to her flat, for God's sake, when I asked her for the divorce, and I didn't see one piece of baby stuff, nor obviously any baby at all!

- That's uncanny…

- But I am not that child's father! I can't be, obviously.

- Well, can or not, since your name is on that paper, legally you are! Since you two were married at the time, I gather no one thought to ask any further question when she gave birth.

- Even if they never saw me?, exclaimed Bates.

- It's not that unusual that a father isn't present at his child's birth. You could have been away to work, or anything. Or maybe she even told the doctor or midwife who delivered her that you were dead. I guess no one pressed for details.

- Jesus…, he breathed. So I really have a child?

- Looks like it, my dear boy.

- What am I going to do? Good God, Anna…, he murmured, rubbing his temples. What will she say to that? She didn't agree to take me with a child…

- I think…, started Margaret, that that's a question better asked her, my dear.

- What if…, he blurted.

He despised himself almost instantly for having that thought, but…

- What if I don't go and fetch her?

- Well. Maybe that Bartlett person will keep her. Or she'll end up in the orphanage. To be adopted. Or not. Is that something you can live with?, she asked with arched eyebrows.

Mrs Margaret Bates knew her son well, and she knew already the answer to that question.

- Of course not…, he admitted.

After all, he was legally this little girl's father, even if he had absolutely nothing to do with her being born.

- But what am I going to do with her? I mean, I work as a valet. And I can't ask Anna to quit her job to raise my daughter, who isn't even really mine…

The old Mrs Bates looked at him pointedly, until he reached his own conclusion.

- I need to talk to Anna…

- I think you do, she agreed.

- … And I need to go see this baby. My… daughter, I guess. Sarah, he added, looking back to the birth certificate.

x x x x

Downton Abbey servants' Hall

- Anna?, Mr Carson called out.

- Yes Mr Carson?, she replied, entering the servants' Hall back from the stairs.

It was early in the morning, and she had just come back from bringing breakfast to Lady Mary who had just come back from her honeymoon with Matthew.

- Telegram for you, he said, handing her the envelop.

- Oh, thank you Mr Carson.

She quietly took the telegram, opened the envelop, and quickly scanned the message. It was from John. She had longed to have news from him for the short time he's been gone, but she knew it was unlikely he would write to her, since he was supposed to be away only a short time, and he would probably be back before any letter had time to arrive.

"Vera dead – Unexpected development – Please come to London"

She frowned. "Unexpected development"? What on earth could that mean?

- Mr Bates?, asked Carson, noticing her puzzled expression.

- Er, yes, it's from him. His wife's dead, I'm afraid. He asks me to join him in London. Says there is an "unexpected development".

- Oh, well that's sad, said Carson. Nothing more?

- No.

- What's that?, asked Mrs Hughes, entering the Hall at that moment.

- Hum, Mr Bates has sent me a telegram to tell me his wife has died, and to ask me to join him in London.

- Oh. Well you'll need to go and check with Lady Mary.

- Yes, I will, thank you Mrs Hughes.

x x x x

Saint-Pancras train station, London

John let out a long sigh when he finally made out Anna's petite silhouette among the crowd getting out of the train that had just entered from the north. He had gone over the subject over and over again all night, and had scarcely gotten any sleep. He couldn't wait to share this newfound burden with Anna. He himself, despite all the hours spent on it, had not been able to find a satisfactory solution to care for the baby, except offering this Mrs Bartlett to pay for her fostering the child on the long term, if she was willing.

- Anna!, he called out to her. Here!

He waved to her until she finally caught sight of him. She hurried over to him, carrying only a light suitcase.

- Hello John, she said with a smile.

- Hello my darling. I am so happy to see you… Has the journey gone alright?

- Yes it has, she said, sliding her hand in the crook of his arm, as he took the suitcase from her. So, what's all this about?

- I don't want to tell you here in the middle of a train station, he said, shaking his head. Let's go back to my mother's.

- This is very mysterious…, said Anna, following John's lead.

Half an hour later, Anna was sitting in Margaret Bates's sitting-room, nursing a cup of tea, and staring open-mouthed at the birth certificate. Mrs Bates had left them alone to discuss the news in privacy. John was eyeing her worriedly, awaiting her reaction. His rational mind told him that this was not a sufficient reason for Anna to turn away from him, but a creeping insecurity kept nagging him, chanting, "what if?..." After an amount of time that seemed infinite to him, she finally looked up at him, and asked:

- So… You have a daughter?

- Well, he started, in truth, no, I don't. She's not mine. But in the eye of the law, yes, I do. Vera declared me as the father.

- And you are sure you can't be?

Doing the quick math in her head, Anna added:

- You were not yet employed at Downton at the time she was conceived. So, I have no right to begrudge you for anything you could have done. And even after that, I mean, Vera was your wife. I am nothing. I have no right to your fidelity yet.

- Of course I am sure, he exclaimed. I would never lie to you, Anna. Vera and I have been separated for more than five years. There has been no "reunion" or whatever since that time. I am positive that I am not that child's father.

He paused for a short moment, and went on, putting his hand on hers on the table:

- And, to set the record straight, I have thought about no one but you since the day I have set foot in Downton. You have my fidelity since that very day. I hope you will believe me.

She couldn't help but smile.

- That's sweet, she said softly, gently squeezing his hand. Of course I believe you. And… you don't have any idea who the actual father might be?

- None at all.

- Well. That is unexpected, she stated.

- So…, he started with a note of uncertainty in his voice. What do you think? I mean… I have no right to impose this on you.

- Vera didn't have the same scruples it seems. She didn't hesitate to impose this on you… And I think I know why she did it.

- Oh yes?, he asked, raising his eyebrow.

- Hmm, she said, nodding. Because, despite whatever went wrong between you two, she knew you were an honourable man, and you wouldn't let a child down that were legally marked as yours. So she ensured, doing this, that if she wasn't around anymore, you would care for her.

- Cunning, he replied thoughtfully. But I don't see how I…, we can take her in, he said, correcting himself. What about our jobs?

- Let's take things one at a time, shall we?, said Anna in a matter-of-fact tone. Let's start with the beginning, she smiled.

- And that is?

- Tomorrow morning we'll pay a visit to this Mrs Audrey Bartlett, and we'll meet this baby. Sarah. Then we'll make whatever decisions we need to make.

John's shoulders relaxed a bit, relieved that he was from her reaction.

- I love you, Anna, he said.

She cocked her head sideways, and whispered:

- I love you too. Whether or not you're coming with family, that doesn't change a thing.