The war might have been over, but it was much too soon for the world to have gone back to normal.
If, indeed, it ever would.
The house felt quieter than ever before, without so many of the injured soldiers. There had been uncertainty and even some resistance at first but it had been good and important for the house to have a purpose. It was a bit strange to think about things reverting to the way they were before. Four years was not a long time, not when anyone thought about the history that the Abbey held, even from the previous generation. Anna was quite certain that the Dowager Countess would live to see a hundred, if not even longer than that.
Four Christmases had passed while the world had been at war. It seemed surreal to think about, and yet they had all got used to it. There wasn't much else to be done. It was the best present anyone could have asked for, for peace to have fallen. Of course it had come much too late for so many.
It was not going to be a grand celebration this year. It made sense, really; it was only just over a month since the armistice had been called, and it would have seemed crass for the family to do anything on a large scale. Even Mr Carson had agreed about that. Neither were there to be any guests outside of the immediate family. Anna had thought it a little unusual that Lady Mary had not invited Mr Carlisle, given how serious they were. It doesn't seem right, she had said. Then again, she was not entirely convinced of Lady Mary's certainty about everything when it came to Mr Carlisle, and certainly not since Mr Crawley's injuries.
She was thinking with her own heart, because she certainly could not imagine spending the time without John. They had spent two Christmases apart, which had been quite enough. At least with the last she had known he was nearby, and they had seen one another the week beforehand.
That they were together, under the same roof and by each other's side as often as would allow, was the greatest blessing she could have hoped for, along with the dreadful war having come to a conclusion.
He had been downcast, Vera doing her work from beyond the grave. It was a very strange business, they both knew that much. She certainly wouldn't have put it past her to come up with some sort of wicked plan which had not yet come to fruition. But she didn't want to think about that, wasn't going to let it mar the Christmas that was ahead, one that they could have to themselves – in as much as they were able. Thomas and Miss O'Brien had made their comments, asking why things had been so quiet and fishing for information which they were not going to get.
None of that mattered, not to Anna. The only thing that mattered was that they were with one another, safe and sheltered from the cold. They had their health, they had their lives. They were happy, despite all that surrounded them.
It was true that they did not know what the future held, but nobody did. Not even the Crawleys, with all their great comforts and wealth. The last four years, with all the damage that it had wreaked on the rich and poor and all creatures inbetween, had proved that beyond all measure.
They sat up for a while on Christmas Eve, ignoring the looks from a certain lady's maid and footman, with Mrs Hughes giving her approval that as it was Christmas they could stay up later, so long as they got enough sleep for the day that was ahead and all that it would contain. They spoke about their memories of the time from years gone by, about how grieved they both were that William was not there; the pain of his loss was felt all the more now that Christmas was here.
Somewhat naturally and expectedly, the conversation turned to what could be around the corner. She did not want him to feel burdened with his worries, not as the hour of midnight was so soon approaching. If anyone deserved the deepest peace that the season could bring, with the magic that it had to make all seem golden and shining, then it was him, though of course it should have been his for much longer; all eternity, if she had her way.
When he was at a loss, overwhelmed with weariness and the weight that was too heavy for him to bear alone, she reminded him of the fact that he needn't do so; that she was made of far sterner stuff than she looked, which made him smile and look at her with so much love that she thought she might burst.
She put her hand in his, held onto it tight. She passed up a prayer silently, feeling so grateful for all that she had. Him most of all.
"Let's not think about that for now," she said, all the while knowing it would take him some effort. She could help with that, though. "Given that we're together for it, let's just have a very happy Christmas."