Chapter 3
1919

The war was over. He had watched as the men had returned from Belgium and France. Mr Crawley with an injured spine, unable to walk. Thomas with his ruined hand, more conflicted than ever and William… William with his innocence still intact, while the rest of him was battered beyond repair. At least he got to die on British soil. At least he got to be buried in the village. He had visited sickbeds, had attended funerals and memorials and missed Elsie. Missed her more than five years ago when she had left him. Longed for her nearness, for her quiet strength and her voice.

He knew the years, the grief and loneliness had aged him. His face had acquired more deep lines, his hair had turned completely grey, even white at his temples. He noticed how his eyes had grown dull in time, how his gaze had become distant.

Even after the war the troubles for Downton and some of his inhabitants hadn´t end. During the war Mr Bates´ estranged wife had returned to claim her husband back. And John Bates had followed her back to London, even though at the time he already had come to an understanding with Anna. He never understood why, until Mrs Patmore had enlightened him, having listened to their private conversation from a grating on the wall. A year later, Bates had returned to Downton, much to his relief. Slowly he and Anna had been able to pick up the thread of their relationship, even though the threat of Vera´s actions still loomed over them.

That had all come to end, when a year prior to the end of the war, Bates had received news that his wife was dead, that she allegedly had taken her own life. Their engagement now officially announced, he had been genuinely happy for the both of them and for a brief time he had wondered if this would be an appropriate occasion to write to Elsie, to invite her to come to the wedding.

Then another turn of events had taken place. An investigation had started regarding the circumstances surrounding Vera Bates´ death when doubts were risen that it wasn´t suicide at all. All the evidence had pointed towards Bates. Anna, already expecting the course of events had insisted she and John got married as soon as possible so that whatever they had to face, they would face as husband and wife. Without even consulting him they purchased a special licensee and were married on a Friday afternoon. He never quite understood how they managed it, but in the weeks after Bates´ arrest the following Monday, it became clear that the couple had managed to enjoy their wedded state for the brief time that they had been together, because Anna was with child. Although this greatly complicated things, in the absence of Bates, he couldn´t help but feel a protective streak towards Anna and the unborn babe. He tried to lighten her burden in any way that he could. From making sure she was eating right to accompanying her to London when she visited her husband in prison.

When the trial had come Lord Grantham had done everything he could to assist his valet and former war comrade. A top lawyer had ensured that the prosecutor's accusations were shred to pieces and exactly a week before the birth of their daughter, John Bates had been cleared of all charges and was free to walk out of the prison.

His surprise had come, a day after the birth, when the reunited couple had invited him into the nursery to present him his goddaughter: Charlotte Margaret Bates. He had been touched to the point of tears when Bates had carefully placed his daughter in his arms. It was the closest he´d been to happiness after Elsie had left, although at that moment he had felt the loss of her keenly again.

But with the birth of little Charlotte, who quickly became the bright spot of his life, another problem presented itself: Mr and Mrs Bates finally moved into their cottage on the estate and Anna resigned from her position as housekeeper. Now he was faced with the daunting task of finding yet another replacement. Nobody on the current staff qualified for the position and he felt deeply apprehensive at the idea of advertising.

When he had voiced his concerns to his Lordship, the aristocrat had knocked the wind out of his lungs with his off-handed reply: ´Perhaps Mrs Hughes – I should say Mrs Burns now, is interested in having her old job back.´

He had stood there, absolutely stunned for a good ten seconds before he was finally able to stammer: ´Mrs Burns… why would she… why would she want to return?´

´Her husband died a couple of weeks ago,´ Lord Grantham had replied, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Carson´s bewilderment. ´I assumed you´d heard.´

´I did not,´ he replied, forcing himself to remain composed. ´How did you know?´

´Lady Cora corresponds with her occasionally,´ his Lordship replied, still looking puzzled. ´Don´t tell me she doesn´t drop you a line every now and then, Carson?´

´Mrs Hughes… Burns and myself have gotten out of touch these last years, I´m afraid,´ he finally offered.

´Well, if you manage to get her back I´d be ever so grateful,´ Lord Grantham said. ´It would be just like the old days.´

His mind was reeling with this newfound information. Elsie was now a widow. He wondered what had happened to Mr Burns, he wondered if she was very grieved by his loss. Would she be willing to return to Downton? For the past five years he had lamented that he has passed up his chance, that he had let her leave without a fight. Now it seemed that fate was handing him another chance.

Had too much time passed already? Had life changed them too irrevocably? Did he dare to take his chance this time?

Don´t get excited just yet.