A/N: Wow! I'm truly overwhelmed by the reception of my last update. This chapter isn't as long, but I thought this was a good place to stop as I may not be able to update again until Sunday. But things seem to be on track for completing this by Christmas. I tried to use some references from the movie for which the fic was named, so some credit to Frank Capra for that. In the movie this scene played out much shorter, so I added quite a bit more dialogue. Hopefully it suits your fancy. Please review :)
Part III
"Mum? You have to tell me. I have to know," John said.
"I'm...I'm not supposed to tell," Margaret said with a hint of hesitation, though he could tell she was torn.
"Please," John begged.
Margaret Bates knew her son all too well. This was one thing he would not budge on. She let out a sigh, knowing how this would affect him. But she saw no point in keeping it from him any longer. "Anna never married, John. She never had any children," she answered.
"No," he said as his voice warbled with emotion. "Say it isn't true."
"She's an old maid," Margaret went on.
"But why? Anna could have had her pick of any man in the village," John stated.
"She didn't want any old man. She wanted her babies to look like you," his mother said.
Her words pierced him like a knife to the heart. Once before when he asked Anna why she had married him, she had said just that. It was something he had brushed off at the time, but now he would have given anything to hear those words fall from her mouth and her arms wrapped around his neck, as her lips pressed against his.
"Anna kept waiting for true love to arrive but it never came. So she resigned herself to spend her life as a Lady's Maid. You see John, you really had a wonderful life. But the moment you chose to stop living it everyone else's life had to change as well."
"Is she happy at least?" John asked.
"I don't know that I would call it happy. It was a lonely existence. But she was content...until…"
"Until what?"
"The night of the concert," she replied.
John nearly fell back on his feet. His eyes widened with terror and his jaw dropped. "No." He knew full well what happened the night of the concert. But he had to hear it from her lips.
"I'm afraid so. Your absence didn't change Anna's fate."
His mother showed him a glimpse of Anna staying at the village chapel late into the evening saying prayers to anyone that would listen. Her hands clasped together so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her fingernails nearly cut into her own skin. Anna squeezed her eyes shut as tears cascaded down her cheeks, hoping to push the bad memories away. Her lips muttering incoherently as she fought back her cries. "Please Lord. Please make the nightmares stop," she begged.
John listened carefully as her whispers cut through the dark. Words that he had heard her say before and had shrugged off. Shamed. Spoiled. Dirty. Soiled. Dirty. Words he would never associate with Anna even on her worst day. Yet here she was believing that not only would no one ever love her, but that God wouldn't forgive her of her sins. When John knew full well this was no fault of her own. The image painted before him broke his heart in two. John wanted to hold her; to comfort his wife in her time of need and assure her that there would be brighter days again. That someone out there still cared for her, would always adore her. He was still proud of her and had never loved her more than he had in that moment.
"Does she have no one to help her?" John asked as the image slowly faded from view and disappeared. John tried to grasp at it to keep her safe, but it was gone in a cloud of smoke.
His mother shook her head back and forth in a no motion. "Without you in her life, Anna didn't have a husband to fall back on and vouch for her reputation. She never went to Mrs. Hughes because she didn't have to worry about protecting you from yourself. Anna feared no one would believe her innocence so she kept the attack to herself. There was no one to support her and help her through the nightmares or build her back up. This is the only place Anna finds solace anymore. Here and…"
"Where?" John asked.
"The courtyard," Margaret said.
As much as it pained him to leave his mother standing there he had to see Anna in person. John headed for the courtyard as quickly as his legs would carry him. When John reached the area just outside of the courtyard he paused behind one of the walls to keep himself hidden in the shadows. John need only wait a few moments before he heard the familiar clack of the door handle that led to the servants hall. Sure enough there she was. His heart wanted to rejoice at the mere sight of her but he could not find the will in him to move towards her. Somehow she looked even more broken than the Anna he had seen rotting away in that prison. For once she looked as though her age matched his own. Anna took a seat on a stack of crates and John could help but notice they barely shook beneath her tiny frame. She looked beyond tired, as though every last bit of fire in her had been extinguished. A thin layer of snow collected around her and he noticed that her body shook like a leaf in the cold.
When he saw her begin to cry into her hands, John didn't even give a thought of how best to approach her. He could stand there in silence no more. "Anna," he said softly.
Her ears perked up and Anna looked up from the spot where she had been staring at her shoes on the ground. She clearly didn't recognize him. And surely she was wondering how he knew her name.
"I'm sorry," he said. For so many things that he couldn't say right now. "I didn't mean to intrude on you or scare you," John added with his hands up in surrender.
She stood up quickly, partially out of fear and the other part out of embarrassment for being caught crying. Anna dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and brushed it off. "It was nothing." She brushed off the back of her uniform in case anything from the crates had dirtied it.
"It couldn't have been nothing, otherwise you wouldn't be crying," his voice said as sweetly as possible. It was odd to have so many memories of someone that he had known emotionally and physically, but for her to have no recollection of him at all. She still held some favor towards him in her eyes, but it wasn't the same one he was used to. Anna didn't have that sparkle in her eyes that she always reserved for him or that small little quirk at the corner of her smile that seemed to appear whenever he walked into a room.
Anna cleared her throat and asked, "Can I help you?"
"I was just passing by and couldn't help but overhear your cries and I thought…" in truth he didn't know what he thought. John hadn't planned this out.
"And you thought you'd push in?" she said a little more harshly than he expected.
"No, absolutely not," he tried to apologize. "I only wanted to see if I could be of assistance." That was a lie. He wanted nothing more than to make her smile again. His body ached to reach out and protect her from every cruelty that had been thrust upon her.
Her features softened at the sound of his words and she nervously fiddled with her handkerchief. "That's very kind of you. But no one can help me," she said in a defeated tone.
Silence settled between them as John attempted to find some way to propel their conversation forward. It was surreal that she should come to the courtyard to find some relief from the thoughts that must have plagued her. To their courtyard. It was where they had shared their first kiss. It was the place he had proposed to her, even though it hadn't been the way he planned. It was where he had left her standing alone as he set off with Vera and left his precious Anna to console herself with tears. Tears he had caused. John tried to push the bad memories away for a moment. For them it had always been more than a brief escape from the hustle and bustle of their jobs. It had been a place for private conversations, for future plans to be made, kisses and touches to be exchanged, secrets to be whispered. In some ways it still held all that promise, but it wasn't the same in a world where he ceased to exist.
"I'd like to try," John said as he slowly approached her. He made a conscious effort not to cross more than halfway towards her.
"Why would you show me such a kindness?" Anna asked skeptically. "And how do you know my name?"
"You probably don't remember me." He scoffed internally. "You showed me a kindness once before...in the village." He lied again. "I only wanted to return the favor," John said.
"I'm sorry but I don't recall ever meeting you...Mister…"
"Bates...John Bates," John said as he extended his hand.
"Mr. Bates...," she said in that glorious way that only she could. Enunciating every syllable with that adorable Yorkshire accent. "What did I do?" she asked with genuine interest.
Oh if only he could tell her all the things she had done for him. All the ways she had made him feel like a man again. And not just any man. An honorable one. How she had brought light back into his life when there was nothing but darkness. Or the way she always looked upon him with joy dancing in her eyes in spite of his age and disability. He'd never be able to thank her enough in his old life or the next for always standing by him and seeing past his mistakes. Most of all he'd never be able to truly express how happy she made him when she became his wife. For loving him the way she did and making their marriage seem so effortless.
"You saved me," John whispered under his breath. "You saw me when no one else did." This time his voice was sure and didn't falter. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you," he said with a crinkly-eyed smile at the memory of their first meeting. The feel of her hand in his as they met in the most exquisite way. An offer of friendship that he had no right to.
Anna pulled him from his thoughts when she managed a small, shy smile. "That's sweet of you, but I don't believe in love at first sight," she admitted rather hopelessly.
"Maybe not now...but you did." Her words still echoed in his brain, the day she offered him her hand. "Because…because I love you, Mr Bates. I know it's not ladylike to say it, but I'm not a lady, and I don't pretend to be." Even when he couldn't reciprocate the sentiment the way he wanted to, John knew then what a truly special gift he had in her. He had hated the long cart ride he had taken to the flower show on his own. Unspoken conversations had still hovered somewhere in the air as she followed behind him with her eyes fixed on her feet. And even still, he knew she loved him. She harbored no ill feelings towards him for not being able to proclaim his love for her as she had for him. If anything it had only made her love him more. Her body became smaller as the distance between them grew. Yet somehow that memory was easier to deal with than the moment he was playing out right now, at least then he knew she still loved him. Not now. Now she didn't even know who he was...it was a thought that only made him long for her more.
"What makes you say that?" Anna asked as she took a step towards him.
John took it as a sign that he was gaining her trust. He didn't want to lose that. Despite her altered appearance he still thought her to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on. In the pale moonlight, her hair still reminded him of the morning sun. John supposed this is how it was for her all those times she had argued with him that he was handsome. Their love was limitless. It did not stop for time or ebb with one's looks. "If I told you, you'd think me crazy."
"Please," she said in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
John chose his words carefully. "I'd like to think that in another life you and I could be happy." I know that we were. I know we still could be. "We would live in a cottage by the sea, running a little hotel, with our children surrounding us as we grew older," he said in a whimsical voice. Just like we always planned.
Anna seemed as though she were living the dream with him; the look in her eyes was far off somewhere.
"We'd spend our days working side by side with one another." Just like we've always done. "When we caught a free moment we'd take walks hand in hand along the sand. In the evenings I'd prepare you tea with a bit of milk and a heapful of sugar because you like it sweet," John realized as soon as the words left his mouth he hadn't meant to say that. But he couldn't help himself. The image of her walking around their cottage sitting room in her stockings after a hard days work was still engraved in his mind. He couldn't stop the words from pouring out anymore. "I'd put it all on a tray with a small vase of lavender flowers because they are your favorite and bring it to you in bed," he added as tears threatened to smother his voice. The memory of a sweet housemaid with her hair in a loose braid and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders popped into his head then and took his breath away.
"How do you…" she began to ask but he kept talking.
"And before we fall asleep I'd read poetry by Robert Burns to you because I know how much it relaxes you." You always insisted I read so you could fall asleep to the sound of my voice. His bottom lip quivered as the memories came rushing back.
"I don't...I don't understand," Anna said with tears in her eyes as her head shook back and forth in disbelief. "How could you know all that?"
"Because I love you. I've always loved you," he said gently. "I know I must sound crazy, but…in another life we were married, Anna."
"Don't say my name. I don't even know you," she argued.
"But you do...er...did," John said as he tried to keep her calm. He could see the panic building in her eyes. The terror written across her face. John was struggling enough as it was and he had wished this upon them. He could only imagine what was going through her mind right now. He held his hands out as he said, "Anna, darling, please."
"I'm not your darling," her words cut him like a knife. "Don't touch me or I'll scream," Anna insisted as she began to back up towards the door. Her eyes still trained on him, but her hands were visibly shaking now.
"I can prove it," he said. "You were born in Yorkshire. Your parents sent you away to work at Downton when you were twelve because their farm was failing."
"Stop. I'll hear none of this."
"Your favorite brother was Andrew and he died in the war...in the Battle of the Somme. You even have a scar on your left arm from when he dared you to climb the rafters of the barn on your farm and the ladder gave way."
Anna was crying now but she didn't scream. "Anyone could have found that out if they asked the right people."
"But I know something no one else does," John said with some hesitancy.
"What's that?"
"I know," he whispered softly. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he remembered the way he had found her scrubbing those shoes-almost aggressively so, in that boot room.
Anna flinched almost imperceptibly and he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't seen it all before. Her body tensed at the memory and her hands balled up into tiny fists as she fought the urge to run and hide.
"I know how it happened and when it happened," John said with regret. His failure to protect her still haunted him.
"I don't know what you are talking about," she lied. Yet even in a world where they weren't married she couldn't take her eyes off of him as she said it.
"I know it was Lord Gillingham's valet who flirted with you and teased you from the moment he stepped foot in here."
Her eyes widened in response, but she denied it still. "No. You couldn't possibly know that. No one could," she said as her voice raised in pitch. Anna was becoming hysterical.
"Love, please," John said as he reached out to hold her and comfort her.
She pulled away and screamed, "No! Stop! Don't touch me!"
"Darling," he begged.
The back door blasted open. "What in the devil is going on out here?!" Mr. Carson bellowed. "Mr. Ellis, what are you doing back here?" the butler inquired.
"He said his name was Bates," Anna reported as she shot John a perplexed look. "Keep him away! This man is crazy! He tried to attack me," she shouted.
Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore arrived immediately after that and began to comfort her. Jimmy, Alfred, and two other hall boys attempted to confine John as Mr. Carson stated that he would call the cops.
"You can't call the police. That's my wife," John argued back.
Anna fainted under the strain of the situation.
John screamed out her name and fought to free himself. He eventually wriggled his right arm loose and struck one of the boys with a right hook before sinking a jab into Alfred's jaw. The other two boys went down with little effort as John threw his weight into them and ran off into the night.
John stumbled into the village cemetery. His head was pounding as John contemplated how things had become so turned around in his absence. William dying all alone, Robert a cripple and with no one to share his life with, Mr. Molesley reduced to mending roads for next to nothing, Thomas in the workhouse, and his mother gone before her time. He was panting hard as he leaned against a headstone. His eyes travelled up to see William's name etched into the stone marker. "She didn't even recognize me," he mumbled to himself. John felt an indescribable pain, like grief. But how could one grieve over someone that was still there. He realized now that Anna was more lost without him than she ever was with him. "Mum!" he shouted into the night air. "Mum, where are you?" the puff of fog billowed from his mouth. "If you can hear me, I take it all back. I want to go back!" John fell to his knees in the snow and began to cry as he folded his hands together. "Please Lord, if you're listening...I want to live again. I want to live again," he pleaded to anyone that would listen.