Warning: The later parts of this chapter deserve a trigger warning. John and Anna are going to discuss some aspects of what happened to her in 4.3
"Mornin'!"
A cheery female voice greeted them as they came downstairs.
"You must be Mr and Mrs Bates, I'm Hetty."
Just for a moment, John wondered if Mrs Patmore had a twin sister. Hetty was a homely, plump middle aged Yorkshire woman, with waving whisps of red hair escaping from her cap. She was obviously in sole charge of this large kitchen.
"Good morning to you Hetty, are we too late for any breakfast?"
Hetty stopped in her pastry prep, lifting one finger as she collected a cloth and swerved around towards the range. "Just a mo... tea's in the pot, help yourselves to a mug, I've left you space o'nt far end of the table..."
No sooner had John poured tea for himself and Anna than Hetty was back, bearing two plates clutched in either end of the tea towel.
"Mind yerselves, these are a bit hot! Let me know if you want a slice of toast, and there's red sauce and brown sauce on the dresser behind yer, if you want either."
The plates sizzled, with sausages, bacon, black pudding, mushrooms and a fried egg each. John turned to reach for the brown sauce and noticed that the cherry brandy, in prominent position last night, was gone. He smiled quietly to himself. Bill was a wise man who knew to guard his drink from a man who might be tempted to self medicate after taking a given dose. His heart filled with love for his good host and hoped for a quiet talk with him later on.
"Bill thought you might be worn out after your journey yesterday, so I kept some bits hot for y'both."
"Thank you Hetty that's so kind."
"Not a problem dear, not at all, but please don't mind me if I get on with this while you eat, or there'll be no pie for tea tonight."
Half expecting to see her whirl round to summon Daisy, John smiled into his cup of tea. Anna was already tucking in, tired out by yesterday's journey, the events of last night and their morning in bed together.
"Is there anything we can do to help, Hetty?"
"Bless you duck, but there's no need. Plates'll go on to soak when you're done. You want to get yourselves out for a bit while it's dry, air smells like it might rain later."
Anna turned to John. "What do you think? Are you feeling alright for a walk?"
"It would be nice to go out and see the area around here. It might get harder to walk further when it's muddy," John nodded down to his cane, propped next to him at the table.
"Let's do that then."
"When you come back," Hetty's fingers flew over the top of the pie, fluting the edges carefully with a teaspoon handle. "Let me know if you want a bit o' cake with a cup of tea. Bill might be in around 4 o'clock for a break, but said not to wait around for him, he'll see you for supper around 8 o'clock."
Demolishing the last bits of his black pudding, John felt like a new man.
Beside him Anna jumped.
He spun around, eyes wide, searching for her attacker.
Where's the threat? What's happened?
"Oooh! Hello there!"
A black and white collie had slipped in the back door and plonked its head into Anna's lap. Soon over her initial shock, Anna bent down to coo at the little face and fuss its ears.
"Where did you come from? Are you suppose to be in here?"
It's alright. It's just a dog. Just a dog.
"Skipper!"
Hetty marched over, shooing the dog out.
"You know you're not to be in here when baking's on, yer daft dog."
Her tough tone was belied by the fuss she gave the dog and the small scrap of pastry she tossed up for it to catch, before it trotted back out into the yard.
It's alright. Just a dog. Anna's safe. It was a dog, and the dog's gone anyway.
"Daft animal," Hetty smiled. "He's meant to be a sheep dog, but he's part deaf. Bill ain't got the heart to get rid of him though. Sometimes he sneaks in here or follows one of us around the place. Don't be surprised if he trots after you for a walk. Blimey, Mr Bates, are you alright, you've gone white as a sheet..."
Anna turned to find John gripping the edge of the bench, his face pale, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.
"Yes... I'm fine. The dog just made me jump. That was all."
Anna's frown crept back a little between her eyes.
"Come on John," she took his hand. "Let's go find our coats."
Gripping her hand, John forced himself to breathe out.
"Yes. Alright. Let's."
"See you later Hetty."
"Right you are, lovie. 'Ave a good walk. Fresh air'll be grand for yer both."
Anna quietly ushered John out to find their coats and they headed out to walk down the lane without exchanging another word.
…
Hetty was right about Skipper. The dog spotted them heading for a walk and decided to invite himself along.
Much as he longed to be alone with Anna, and was annoyed with himself for his ridiculous reaction in the kitchen, John found the presence of the animal soothing. He'd never spent much time around dogs. Lord Grantham's labradors were lovely animals, but were rarely allowed in the upstairs rooms, so he didn't often see them during his time with Lord Robert. There had been one or two regulars at the pub in Kirkbymoorside with dogs, but they were old and sleepy and mostly slumbered under the table while their owners chatted over a pint.
The dog seemed to prefer Anna. Perhaps because she loosened up around him, cheerfully patting his head when he licked her fingers and picking up sticks to throw for him, telling him he was a good dog and a clever dog when he brought them back for her, before barking and chasing his tail.
They walked out down to lane towards the river, following the sound of the water. Eventually the lane crossed over the river. From the bridge there was a path giving access down some steep steps to a field alongside the water's edge, lined with huge old trees.
"Shall we go down toward the water?"
It was the first comment Anna had addressed to John since they left the farmhouse.
"If you like."
They walked down among the trees, finally loitering next to a giant oak, watching the water flow past them.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"It was nothing."
"It didn't look like nothing."
"It just seems silly now, is all."
"I'm becoming an expert on thinking reactions are silly, John."
He turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide with fear, with concern. This would not do.
"The dog took me by surprise. When you jumped, I thought someone was bothering you. I was worried for you."
"Even though we were in the farm house kitchen? Who on earth would have attacked me?"
John paused. How could he make her understand that it wasn't about the place, or the dog, or Hetty, or even her? Then it dawned on him that this must be how she felt, when she was experiencing those attacks and didn't know who he was, or where she was.
"I told you it would sound silly. But even though I knew where we were, I felt for a moment like you weren't safe and that, that upset me."
A light of comprehension dawned in Anna's face.
"You knew where you were, but you forgot, all at the same time?"
"That's what happens to you, isn't it?"
She bit her lip.
"We can not talk about it, if you prefer."
"It's not talking about it which is the problem though. We never have time to talk about it. And when we do we're so tired and worn out and worried, that it all comes out wrong."
John was taken aback. Anna had never spoken at such length about her ordeals or the troubles that she had endured as a result of her attack.
"We have time now. If you'd like."
"Can we walk on to the village? Perhaps find somewhere to sit?"
"Certainly."
They rejoined the lane, ready to walk on. Skipper had had enough though. He licked at Anna's hand once more, turning and trotting back down the lane towards the farm.
"I suppose he knows the way home."
"No doubt he does. We might see him later."
They walked on for a short while, both deep in concentration. John realised that they were both looking for the same words.
"I'm sorry we haven't made the time to talk about this before, if it was what you needed."
"It's not just about me John. I think we both needed it."
"I'm here to listen now."
"I know. Look, here's the village pub we passed last night. The White Hart. Perhaps we could sit outside, have a glass of cider or something?"
"If you like."
John kept the table, while Anna went to buy two halves of cider. He felt he should have gone, but would not have been able to carry two glasses while managing his cane. She returned soon though, perhaps the bar had been quiet.
"Feels a little wicked, drinking in the middle of the day."
"I'm not sure cider really counts. It's just apple juice with a kick. Now..." Taking a sip, John reached out to take her hand. "You were saying?"
Anna took a deep breath, her eyes on the table.
"I know that... what happens to me, like what happened last night, it upsets you."
"Of course it upsets me, because I hate to see you hurt and unhappy."
"And I hate that I react that way towards you. Because I know it's you with me, and I'm safe with you, but something inside doesn't feel safe."
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel safer?"
"I don't know. Every time is different. That's the problem. Just like you knew you were in the kitchen and there was no attacker, I know I'm safe, but I don't FEEL safe. Just like you FELT like there was danger somewhere."
John nodded. For perhaps the first time, he genuinely understood, and now began to feel like he wasn't the problem.
"What I find... difficult, to understand, is that sometimes it's alright. When I reach for you. When I touch you. And sometimes it's not. And I wish I knew how or when to make it alright for you. To make it so that you didn't feel unsafe."
"Oh John..."
"I keep thinking, there must be a pattern. There must be something I'm missing, or something I do, which upsets you. Which makes you think of..." John paused, unwilling to even say Green's name.
"...him." Anna felt the same. She would not let that creature intrude on her life by choice, even saying his name.
"I don't want you to think of him when you look at me."
"I don't."
"But sometimes you do."
"No, it's not like that."
"Then what is it like?"
"John please..."
"I'm not... I'm not angry, Anna. Truly, I'm not. But I'm just trying to understand. So that I can help you."
Anna sat for a while, her hand lay quiet, covered by John's big one.
"There are sometimes things which, for some reason, make me feel like it's all happening again. Like I'm back there, with him, and he's... like it's all about to happen again."
"Can you tell me what any of these things are?"
"I can tell you some things. But... "
"But what?"
"I'm worried that they might upset you. I've told you so little. Partly because I didn't want to tell you anything at first. And then it got easier to say nothing after a while. But it's not nothing in my head."
She sat quietly for a while longer, her cider untouched.
"Anna... love … I know these things might upset me. I can't promise to not be upset. But I have to know what they are, if it will help me to be with you, without making you feel like that again."
"I know."
She took a sip and turned her hand over, to link her fingers in his.
"Now that I've calmed down, I know what it was last night, that set me off."
"Was it when I came up behind you?"
"Yes."
"Because you didn't hear me walk up to you?"
"Partly. You made me jump, which … sort of shocks me. It's like my heart and blood start going at a hundred miles an hour. Like when you touch something hot unexpectedly. That sort of jolt."
"Was there something else?" John spoke gently but had to know more.
Anna's reply was so soft that he couldn't even stoop to catch it.
"What was that my love?"
She looked up into his face, her features white and strained, clearly in pain from even thinking about the memory.
"He was stood behind me. When he..." she bit her lip and paused. Shook her head and took another drink, starting again. "He was stood behind me. When he took me. That's how he did it. How he ripped my dress. His hands were around my front and when I struggled, he ripped my dress."
"So when I walked up behind you, and you felt me standing there..."
"I know it was you John. I know it wasn't him. But in my head everything just went wrong and I..."
Tears slid down Anna's cheeks, her eyes screwed up.
"it's alright love. Look at me. Please, Anna, look at me."
Opening her eyes, Anna met his. Red, streaming, but awake and with him.
"It's alright. You've told me now. And I won't ever do that again."
Her shoulders heaved. John gripped her hand, longing to take her in his arms, but fearful of drawing further attention to her. He reached across with his left hand, stroking her face softly, wiping away her tears.
With a huge shaking breath, Anna managed to re-compose herself. She tugged her hand away to rummage in her bag for a clean hankie.
John took a mouthful of his own drink, staying studiously calm. Lucky for Green that he was already dead. If he weren't, he would be soon after such an admission from Anna.
"Are you angry with me?"
"Whatever for?"
"You look angry."
"My love, I would be angry with anyone who ever hurt you. Whether they were alive or dead. But... he has had his comeuppance. He's gone. Forever. And now you are my only concern."
Anna dug deep and found a smile.
"Do I look dreadful?"
"You look beautiful. You look like my brave, beautiful, wonderful wife."
Anna reached back across the table, taking his hand again. Some of the strain around her shoulders and eyes had gone. Perhaps she was right, John thought. It would be better to talk some of this out, to get it all out before it ate them away to shreds.
"This morning was different though."
John snapped out of his reverie.
"Hmm?"
"This morning," Anna smiled at him. "That was lovely."
The memory of his wife's sweetness and her happy response to his touch was a tender one for John.
"Perhaps... you could tell me what I did right?"
Anna bit her lip, a becoming blush staining her cheeks.
"I knew it was you." She said simply.
"How?"
"I could hear your voice. I could see you."
"Those things help?"
"Yes..." Anna giggled softly, dimpling a little. "Sorry, I just can't believe we're having this conversation in public."
John smiled, glanced around. They were the only people sat outside of the pub. No-one else was around to listen.
"I doubt anyone other than me would be interested in your thoughts on this topic."
Anna wrinkled her nose at him, finishing her drink. She looked much better now
"Anna, I know there will be more things to talk about in all of this. I don't doubt that. But … I won't ask. You tell me what you can, when you can. I can't promise to be perfectly calm. But I will listen. And I will promise never to blame you. You are not responsible for any of this. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Now, would you like another drink?"
"No, or you'll be carrying me home."
"I wouldn't mind that."
Another smile.
"Let's go back, John."
"Come on, then."