Chapter 13
One morning in October, John awoke feeling different. He waited a minute before sitting up and realized he'd slept for more than four hours. He was partially covered by a blanket, his copy of Ovid's Metamorphosis next to him, open. He felt refreshed. His dreams had not been tormented; he didn't even remember having any. He was not in any more pain than usual. He could get used to this.
John dressed in his best dark suit and blue tie. He had a pressing matter of business in the village. He had an appointment to speak with a solicitor and learn what he needed to do to divorce Vera. Even if he learned there were no grounds and even if the price was beyond him, he owed it to Anna to try. He owed it to himself.
As he sat down to breakfast, John looked at the faces around him. They were the same as usual, gossiping, grumbling, consumed by their own affairs. Anna entered, and he realized everyone knew and no one cared. He could tell by the way everyone looked at them, treated them. He and Anna had made no attempt to hide their delight in each other, and they seemed to have earned an unspoken approval by their refusal to sneak around, and their ability to behave like adults. John wondered what he was doing right.
John's appointment was for early afternoon. The man was the only legal mind in the village; most went to Ripon for those needs, but at this stage John just needed questions answered. The man was sympathetic to John's situation (he only mentioned the abandonment) but told John exactly what he already believed: he would need proof of adultery or a great deal more money than he had.
John decided not to tell Anna. She didn't know about his meeting, and he couldn't bear to tell her there was likely no hope. If ever he had news of Vera, or reason to hope he might be free of her, he would share it with Anna. He would not burden her with disappointment. He could not create false hope for her. He loved her too much.
Since Anna told him about her life before coming to Downton, John had become very careful to keep her from pain or disappointment. He was impressed at how she had dealt with such adversity and emerged such a strong woman. Lady. Lesser people would have been broken, given in, become resigned or bitter. Anna made the most of circumstances and grown. Her character was strong and wise, her spirit unbroken, practical, and he suspected deeply hedonistic.
On the way home, John stopped in at the little bookshop in the village. It wasn't a proper bookshop, not by his standards, but he tried to support it if he could. John browsed in poetry, but he didn't care for the Romantics. All birds and daffodils. The only novels in stock were Dickens, whom he loathed. The shopkeeper didn't seem to understand it was a new and exciting time for literature. John supposed the poor man did the best he could. Finally, as he was preparing to leave, John saw a small blue book with a gold cover. TheLandoftheBlueFlower by Frances Hodgson Burnet. Ten minutes later he'd read and purchased it. Anna deserved a gift.
He wondered about giving her a children's book, but John thought the story of love and peace and harmony combined with a pagan reverence for nature was perfect for her. It was in many ways symbolic of how he felt for her. She was his blue flower. He'd give it to her in the evening when they could be alone.
John wasn't sure what reaction he had expected, but what he got wasn't it. When Anna joined him, they smiled and sat in silence for a while before he told her he had something for her and slipped the book into her hands.
"I saw this in the village and it reminded me of you."
Anna read it. She sat for a minute looking at the sky.
"This is a lovely book, and fairy tales are my favorite. Thank you." She kissed him.
"But what you were up to in the village? I wasn't busy this afternoon, I could have walked with you."
John hadn't planned for that.
"I had business there." He knew that was weak as soon as he said it. He was looking at his hands and wondering he if dared tell her.
"Oh." Anna looked at her hands. "Mr. Bates, I know you don't want to burden me with your troubles, but they might be lighter if you thought of them as our troubles."
That hadn't occurred to him. Our troubles, but he couldn't bear to weigh her down with what really were his troubles.
"Sometimes things are easier if they are faced as a team."
John still hadn't answered.
"Mr. Bates, I won't press you for details on what you were doing; I respect you too much for that and it probably isn't any of my business, but I thought when we agreed to give love and happiness a chance, sharing and trusting was part of that. If you think you can silence me with gifts, you're wrong, though I do appreciate the book. And if you're not going to say anything, I'm going to bed."
She got up and walked away.
John panicked. It was over before it began. He stood and yelled her name. She stopped, stood still, and waited.
"Anna, please come back. I'm sorry. It does concern you."
Anna returned, but they remained standing. Her arms were crossed. John was leaning on his cane.
"I spoke with a solicitor about what I needed to do to divorce Vera."
Anna's eyes grew large. John could see the starlight in them.
"He said there was no hope without proof of adultery, or a great deal more money than I will ever have. I will never be free of Vera, and we will never have more than this. I couldn't bear to disappoint you, and I didn't tell you I was going because I didn't want to create false hope only to dash it."
It took Anna a minute to respond.
"Was that so hard?"
John smiled. Anna came to him.