They didn't talk much on the train. For a while they sat grinning at each other, hands clenched together in gleeful silence.
Later, they shared out the food. Mrs Patmore had not stinted them, and while John would have refused her offer if left to his own choice, they were both grateful for the treats she had provided. Wedges of pork pie, with a dollop of pickle screwed up in a piece of brown paper. Hard boiled eggs, thick slices of bread and butter and two miniature apple pies, along with a bottle of milk.
"You have a moustache..."
John leaned over to gingerly wipe the milk from his wife's top lip. Anna giggled.
"Don't expect it looks good on me."
"It looks delicious," he smiled, leaning in for a kiss.
"Careful Mr Bates, we're in a public place!" She gently swatted his arm with her little handbag, last year's Christmas present from Lady Mary.
"True, Mrs Bates. I shall have to show restraint. For now."
Her eyes glowed at the hint in his last words. John felt his stomach turn over inside at the sight of her smile. She did still desire him, underneath all of the trauma she had endured. And with every mile from Downton Abbey, her eyes grew lighter and the frowning wrinkles around her eyes were easing away into laughter lines.
"How will we recognise Mr Mason?"
John dug out the letter from his pocket, a note enclosed with Mr Mason's last missive to Daisy.
The station's just got the one platform, come down toward the lane and I'll be waiting with the trap. Chestnut mare, ribbons on the side.
"Apparently, we are to look for his horse," John smiled, amused at the country manner.
"That'll be right," Anna chuckled. "Farmer's give more thought to their animals than what they see in the mirror in the morning. If they even get so far as a mirror."
"I've never stayed on a farm before."
"Get away! Have you not?"
"Well, why would I? City boy, born and bred. The first time I left London was to go to war in South Africa. Until I came to Downton I'd never really lived in the countryside."
"I hope you won't find it … too discomforting."
"Why would I?"
"Well, not to put too fine a point on things John, but the smell takes a bit of getting used to."
"It surely can't be any worse than a military camp."
"And the noise."
"Farms are noisy? I thought the countryside was quiet. Downton is quiet."
"You want to try visiting the farmyards at this time of year. You'd be besieged by ducks, hens, pigs, cattle, not to mention the farmhands shouting back and too."
"I'm sure I'll get used to it."
"I'm sure you will."
Anna slipped her arm through his and settled against his shoulder. The rumbling of the train soon sent her drifting off to sleep. John watched the telegraph poles, hedges and fields of livestock rumble past the window, treasuring the sweet weight of his wife, held fast asleep against his shoulder.
Dusk was falling by the time they got to the station where they were to meet Mr Mason. The nights were drawing out, but the breeze still nipped around them when they alighted at the little station. Anna blinked sleepily, having been woken by John just a few minutes earlier when the guard called out the stop.
"You shouldn't have let me sleep," she grumbled.
"I still have a bruise from the last time I tried to prevent you napping, dearest one," John teased her, his arm around her waist to hold her in against him. "Do you feel better for it?"
"I rarely do when I wake up, but it might be for the be..."
"You must be the Bates!"
A low, rumbly voice, thick with Yorkshire accent, sounded from across the lane. There was the trap, a handsome chestnut brown horse standing before it, and jumping down was Mr Mason.
While serving in the army, John had learned to size people up very quickly and judge whether or not they deserved his time of day. Mr Mason struck him immediately as a good friend, just waiting for the introduction to be made. A firm handshake and twinkling blue eye, accompanied by a friendly greeting and compliment to his wife, sealed the deal.
"Knew you as soon as you stepped out of the doorway, William described you so many times. Mr Bates, good to meet you at last. And hello there lovely lass, you must be Mrs Bates. I'm Mr Mason, as you'd expect, but please, do call me Bill."
"A pleasure Bill, and please call me John..."
"...and I'm Anna."
"Now isn't that grand, old friends in the making, the lot of us. Right, let's get this up and get on home, there's supper waiting, for Marigold as well as for us."
Bill fussed the horse, patting down her mane and sneaking her a sugar lump in reward for her patience, as Anna helped John to climb up into the trap and passed him his cane. John immediately approved of Bill for not mentioning his cane or limp, and also for having the tact to wait rather than diving in with an offer of help. Here was a man who understood the value of pride.
"How far is it to the farm, Mr Mason?"
"Bill, please Anna, we don't stand on ceremony on this farm, we're too busy for Misters and Missus. We'll be there shortly, it's no more than a couple o' miles."
"It's so kind of you to come and fetch us."
"Not at all lass. I know you all walk miles up at Downton, Daisy's forever telling me off for meeting the train when she visits, says she can walk just fine, but I like to take the time for a natter. How is my Daisy doing, is she well?"
The rest of the journey passed with a sprinkling of gossip. Mr Mason approved of Daisy's efforts to improve herself with her studies.
"She might not take to that maths right away, but it will come in handy for her if she agrees to take this place on."
"What sort of farm do you have, Bill?"
"Mixed, m'love, bit of arable farming, some pastoral."
John looked silently at Anna, the words sliding over his head like arabic. Anna leaned closer to whisper "some crops, some animals."
John nodded, pride salved. "What animals do you keep?" he asked, keen to be involved.
"Cows, mainly. They supply the dairy, which brings in a fair bit of trade. We've got pigs too, and a few sheep, but a smaller flock than I used to keep. And the usual hens and ducks, so mind yer feet in the yard, they roam free so they do make a bit o'mess. No need to tell you any more about it now though, here we are!"
And so they were. The gate was open, ready for them. A stable boy hastened to shut it once the trap was through. Drawing up outside the farmhouse, Bill helped Anna down before turning to get the luggage, leaving her to offer a steadying hand to John. Once again, John approved of his tact.
"Right Ned," Bill called to the stable boy. "Take her through and rub her down. Don't worry too much about the trap, it's going straight out in the morning. Just make sure Marigold is settled for the night."
"Yes Mr Mason!"
"Come on in, the pair of yer. I s'pect y'd like to get washed up before supper, so I'll show you up to your room."
The farmhouse kitchen was a delight. Huge, filled with delicious smells of cooking and baking, mingled with herbs drying out among the rafters, it was warm and filled with comfort. A big window ledge was stuffed with cushions along one side of the table, with wooden chairs at either end and a long bench to the other side. John was strongly reminded of Mrs Patmore's domain back at Downton, noting the same ration of green paint, the large hanging copper pots and pans and the good smells emanating from the range. Their shoes made a pleasant clatter across the scrubbed flagstones.
"Stairs go up here, through the back of the kitchen. I'll show you the rest of the downstairs later," Bill was already clumping upstairs carrying their bag. They followed as swiftly as possible to see him turn off through a white painted wooden door.
The room was large, sparsely furnished but filled with a sense of tranquility. There was no wardrobe, but a series of hooks lined one wall to serve in its stead. The bed was large, a big double one with a brass head and foot rail, covered in a white padded counterpane with big thick pillows. On either side stood two mismatched small tables, each with a candle and some matches. To one side under the window, fringed with blue and white striped curtains, stood a cupboard and above it a big blue and white china bowl with a large jug inside it. Two blue towels were folded next to it.
"Next door down is the bathroom, with a hot water geyser." said Bill, placing their baggage on a small bench next to the cupboard. "Y'can fill the jug and bring it through if you prefer to wash up in here, private like. There's a lav a bit further on, brown wooden door on the left. I'm the other side of the farmhouse, so you won't see me much."
"Thank you very much Bill."
"Don't mention it John. I'll leave you to settle in for a bit, supper can go on the table when you're ready."
"Mr Ma..."
"Anna, please."
She smiled at him, catching her mistake.
"Bill, I left the basket downstairs. Daisy packed something in there for you."
Bill's face broke into a huge smile.
"Well, knowing my girl, we might have jam with our cake for pudding tonight then!"
And with that he was gone, closing the door behind them.
John turned and took Anna in his arms. They were tired, weary beyond measure. Not just with the journey but everything that had brought them to needing this holiday.
"It's perfect," she whispered. "And so is he."
"I agree," John leaned down and kissed his wife, gently, chaste as possible.
"John?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I hope you haven't brought me on holiday to just kiss me like that."
There was that stomach flip all over again.
"Anna, if I start now, we won't make it to supper at all."
"Well then," she collected the jug and turned back to throw him a smile as she opened the door. "I'd better get us some water to wash up. The sooner we can go down to supper, and then up to bed, the better."
She was gone, leaving John weak at the knees, hoping that Bill hadn't prepared a five course meal.