Chapter 32

John recognized the handwriting immediately. He didn't want to open it at the table. He wished Mr. Carson wasn't so efficient with the post. John prided himself on his ability to maintain a blank look at all times, but if Mr. Ford had sent bad news he didn't want to risk it registering on his face in front of the others.

Anna had seen it. John smiled at her as he placed the letter in his breast pocket. He needed to read it alone. Her eyes questioned him. She knew it wasn't from his mother. John took another slice of toast. His hands shook as he reached for the butter. This could be the most important letter of his life. He didn't hear William's question. Anna placed her hand on his thigh. John smiled. It would be alright. William repeated his question.

John had a busy morning. He needed to polish some shoes, mend a dinner jacket, and sort the neckties. He kept pausing to take the letter from his jacket. He'd look at it, weigh it in his hands, and then replace it and continue with his work. It was thick, and heavy. It could contain the most important letter of his life. He wondered if he dare to hope. There was nothing so cruel as false hope. He wondered if Anna would have him. He'd as much as said that he intended to marry her if he were able; she hadn't answered. Her answer might be no; she might prefer the life they had now. He'd like to offer her so much more, but she might not want it; she might not want to live with him. John closed his eyes. Sleep with him. In that nightgown. Or not in that nightgown….John opened his eyes. She said she didn't want children; children might come if they had the chance. Maybe she didn't want them to have the chance.

Anna's eyes questioned him again at luncheon. John smiled and shook his head. As they ate he reached over and placed a hand on her knee. She covered it with hers. John turned his hand over so their palms could meet. Anna spread her fingers, slowly moving them up the length of his until John curled his fingers around hers. Whatever the letter said, it would be alright.

As soon as John finished ironing the newly repaired jacket, he made his way to the folly. He knew Anna would be busy until tea, and he very much wanted to read the letter alone. He sat on the steps and removed it from his pocket. Now that the moment had come, John couldn't open the envelope. He starred at it. It could be the most important letter he ever received. A shadow fell and passed. A light breeze rustled through the trees. With a deep breath, he ran his thumb under the seal.

John exhaled. Two letters were inside the envelope. One was a typed letter from Mr. Ford, the other a sealed note from Vera. He read the lawyer's first. My dear Mr. Bates….Enclosed please find….Met with Mrs. Bates….Not at all agreeable to his wishes….Mentioned he had been seen in the company of a young woman….Felt it his business to caution him that while adultery on the part of the husband was not grounds for divorce, it would look better for all concerned if he kept his affairs discreet….Especially if anything were ever proven against Mrs. Bates….Judges tended to side with the injured party….Just a caution….Please let him know if he could be of further assistance…He was his et cetera.

John closed his eyes. Of course. He had allowed himself to hope. Of course Vera wouldn't agree. She had probably had a score of lovers, but was smart enough not to get caught. He had been seen with Anna. Anna was assumed to be his mistress. He groaned. How did Vera even know? He didn't want to read her note. He opened his eyes. Mrs. McGuinness. How could he have been stupid? He wanted a drink.

John's hand shook as he tore open Vera's note. Her handwriting was as jagged as ever. Dear John….How good to hear from him….Happy to communicate through his attorney…No need really…She knew where he was…Always did….If this was about a divorce he should prepare to be disappointed….No intention of giving him grounds….Understood he had a little blond thing….Fine with her….Understood his mother was failing….Really should stop by and see mother Bates…So good to be in touch….

John closed his eyes. Mrs. McGuinness. He cursed himself for not realizing it that day. All those questions about Vera. That moving curtain when he kissed Anna in the street. John needed a drink. The birds were driving him mad. A turtle emerged from under the stairs. John watched as it lumbered towards the pond. His leg was throbbing. He leaned his head against the wall of the building and shut his eyes.

John felt the greyness of despair begin to wash over him. Vera had won. She almost always did. She thought she had won when he went to prison for her, but John had won that one. He was rid of her then. Vera had won. He wasn't rid of her. It would always be this way. He had never really thought it would work. It was a mad idea. He had allowed himself to hope. He had no reason to hope.

A bee hovered near his ear. The sound drove John mad. He was hot. He heaved himself to his feet and swatted at the bee. It moved. He moved. John removed his jacket and tie. The bee moved. John swatted at it again. It felt so good to be free of his jacket. He ran his hands through his hair and rolled up his sleeves. The bee moved again. John removed his collar. John felt the rage beginning to boil in his stomach. He was going to kill the bee. He had to kill the bee. It moved again. He moved. It landed. John swatted. His hand was stung. He swore. The bee was dead on the ground. Rage was so clear, so logical. He picked up the nearest rock and threw it, hard, across the pond. It landed with a statisfying smack. He knew, somewhere, he was crossing a line, but the rage felt so good, so freeing. His breathing was getting short. He found a heavier rock. He threw it farther. Damn Vera. He could kill her. Like that damn bee. He could kill the bitch and be rid of her. Till death they did part. He just wanted Anna. It was more than that. It was about being free of Vera.

John lifted a log he found near the stairs over his head and launched it toward the pond with a shout. He didn't hear the soft footsteps.

"Bad news I take it?"

Anna. He turned to her.

"You missed tea. Mrs. Hughes is worried. She sent me to look for you." Anna sat on the steps to the folly. "But I was planning on coming anyways."

She had seen him lose control. She wouldn't want him at all now. She had picked up Vera's letter. She was reading it.

"Anna….I…I'm sorry." John couldn't seem to move.

She looked up. "What for? For this?" She finished reading. "What did you expect?"

John looked down. "Well….I…had hoped…."

"That you'd tell her you wanted to formally end things since you haven't seen each other in years and she'd agree? That she'd embrace the stigma of being a divorced wife?" Anna smiled.

John felt something both cold and hot inside. He felt like he was falling and couldn't stop. "Yes, I did. And apparently that was foolish. I had hoped…I had hoped that…" He felt himself choking.

Anna smiled. "No, John, it isn't foolish, it just…" Anna looked towards the woods. "She's not going to let you go without a fight."

John took a deep breath. He had to regain control. He swallowed. "I had hoped if she would agree to a divorce, you would agree to marry me. But obviously that's out of the question now. She won't agree."

Anna's head snapped to him. "So you're letting her win."

John felt something snapping inside. His mother's voice. Temper, Johnny. His voice sounded odd. "I'm not letting her win; that's just how it is. I had foolishly allowed myself to hope that this mess we're in could be resolved."

She was still starring at him. "So now you've lost hope? You've given up?"

John ran his hands through his hair. "What else is there? What am I supposed to do?" He kicked something.

"I think keeping your temper would be a place to start. This isn't productive at all. It just gives Vera power."

John hated hearing that name. Vera. It was a sharp, angry name. "I'm supposed to keep my temper when all my hopes have been killed? When I know I'll be trapped by that woman forever?" He took a few breaths. "What about you? Or were you smart enough not to have any hopes for this sorry mess?"

Anna didn't speak for a minute. She turned and blinked rapidly. Her voice was icy. "No, I have hopes, but I draw comfort from them rather than live by them. And so I haven't let Vera win." All John's rage was gone. Anna was upset. His rage was back. Vera had caused Anna pain. "Mr. Carson will be ringing the dressing gong soon. I'm going back." Anna stood and walked back to the house without waiting.

"Anna….I'm sorry….Anna." She didn't turn.