She parted ways with him in the downstairs hallway, as he went off to find Mr. Carson. She focused herself as she headed towards one of the work rooms, clutching her bag of notions tightly. In essentials, the former footman wasn't all that different than he'd always been, since leaving Downton: still kind, enthusiastic and generous with his time, affection and knowledge.
But there was something more to him, now. A confidence, that she always felt was warranted, that he nearly always deflected. She thought of that moment, walking back in the swirling snow, when he admitted his pleasure at the prospect of seeing her every day, for the next ten days or so. Of his hand, frequently brushing hers, as they packed his Christmas treats.
As she set herself up at one of the tables, hanging her coat and hat on the rack in the corner, carefully organizing the ribbons, beads, feathers and buttons, she could almost see it, feel it, she had wanted it that badly:
His fingers, rather than simply brushing against her palm, holding tight. Her responding in equal measure to the pressure of them, signaling her heart's desire. Their bodies and mouths meeting, their parcels forgotten, apples and trinkets and bows and beads scattering across the snowy ground.
"You silly fool," she shivered as she whispered to herself, but she was smiling. Her voice was indulgent rather than chastising. Because she didn't believe that, not really. Falling in love with Joseph Molesley was the least foolish thing she'd ever done.
oooOOOooo
She got lost in the rhythm of her work, as she so often did. She loved sewing, creating, making things. And the Countess had impeccable taste, and was so appreciative of her skills. The simple pleasure of making something beautiful that hadn't existed before she set to the task never failed to fill her with contentedness.
She was bent over the neckline of the dress her mistress would wear to Lady Edith's wedding in a week or so, ensuring that the seed pearls were even and orderly, when Anna Bates entered the room, with her own stack of sewing.
"Afternoon, Miss Baxter," her fellow lady's maid sat across from her, and Phyllis stopped to stretch her neck and shoulders.
"You are looking so well, Mrs. Bates," she replied, smiling. It was impossible not to; the woman exuded joy at her pending motherhood. "Though you must be getting anxious for the little one's arrival."
"Indeed I am, Miss Baxter, for several reasons! I am both absolutely ready and completely terrified for him to make an appearance, at last," Anna rubbed her stomach, laughed.
They both bent over their work for a few moments, each immersed in her own task, in companionable silence. She had always liked Anna well enough, but now that the Bateses were well and truly shed of the bad luck that hovered over them since she herself had arrived at Downton, she felt they were, if not already, then becoming friends.
And despite the lingering tensions between her husband and Thomas Barrow, she'd never seen Anna show anything but kindness to him. She thought of him now, wondering how he was getting on in his new position. She'd a letter from him; it sounded lonely, between the lines.
"Have you heard from Mr. Barrow recently, Mrs. Bates?" She asked at last.
"Mrs. Hughes says he's coming to the wedding. He's written to me a few times, but I worry he's not entirely happy," Anna shook her head, frowned at the headband she was working on for Lady Mary.
"I feel the same, Mrs. Bates. Though right before he left, he spoke to me of your kind advice; he was determined to make a go of it, make a better man of himself," the women smiled at each other, but she could sense Anna's own sadness at Thomas' predicament, echoing her own. "You even inspired him to give me some wise advice in turn."
She surprised herself, confiding even this to the other woman. The giddiness she couldn't shake today was bubbling up again, however, and she knew the reason: like a green girl, she wanted to talk about Joseph Molesley, to someone other than himself. If only obliquely, mentioning him sent thrills through her.
"Did he now? Did you take it, then?" Anna was grinning at her knowingly.
"I did, in fact," she replied. "Mr. Barrow isn't the only one who needed shed who he was, before, Mrs. Bates. It was good advice for me, as well."
"My husband can attest to that as well, Miss Baxter, believe me," Anna rolled her eyes, a completely carefree gesture that did Phyllis' heart good to see. The couple had been through so very much.
Before she could think, she reached out and squeezed Anna's hand. "I'm so glad for you, truly, Mrs. Bates. I know you must be worried, but truly, it's wonderful to see you so happy."
The other woman was startled, but squeezed back. Anna's eyes suddenly rested on something across the room.
"Is that a new hat, Miss Baxter?"
"It is, Mrs. Bates," she rose to lift it from its hook. Had she been worried she'd not get to speak of Joseph Molesley? Silly, that. He was everywhere, it seemed. "I…I made it myself. I've not attempted it before, but I had some lovely notions and some spare time…so…" she trailed off, handing it across to the other woman.
"You never did this all yourself! It's beautiful, Miss Baxter," Anna glanced across at her. "I am surprised her ladyship's not –" She abruptly stopped speaking. She was staring fixedly at the hat in her hand.
"Are you quite alright, Mrs. Bates?"
"Oh, yes, yes, sorry Miss Baxter, I am fine," she replied, letting out a deep breath. Now she was grinning at Phyllis, and there was warm knowledge in her eyes.
Of course. She always wondered how he managed to find the feathers. Now she knew.
"It's only that, I suddenly realized: these feathers remind me very much of ones I purchased for Mr. Molesley, last Christmastime," Anna paused, and Phyllis knew she expected to be stopped. But Phyllis was certain that whatever was happening, it couldn't be stopped. And she didn't want it to be.
Anna finally continued. "He was very mysterious about their purpose, but in the end, after all he – both of you – had done for me and Mr. Bates, it seemed such a small request, and one I could happily and easily fulfill, I didn't press him for an explanation."
"And as I said, Miss Baxter – it's beautiful," she handed the hat back to Phyllis.
"Too beautiful to hide, I finally realized, Mrs. Bates," she stood, flushing, but oddly proud of her own boldness. She gently hung the hat back up, returned to the table.
They sat in charged silence for a few moments, questions and mild mischief writ large in Anna's expression, until they were interrupted by the man himself.
"Miss Baxter, Mrs. Bates! I imagine the pair of you will literally be working your fingers down, for next week, at least," he was standing in the doorway, smiling broadly at them.
"Mr. Molesley! It'll be so good to have you around for the holidays," Anna exclaimed.
"You are looking very well, Mrs. Bates! What an exciting time this must be, for you and Mr. Bates both," he grinned down at both of them.
"Thank you, Mr. Molesley," Anna answered. "It certainly is an exciting time, Mr. Molesley, and likely not just for the Bates family. It's that time of year, I suppose. What's all that, then?" She gestured to his bag of treats.
"Gifts from his adoring students, Mrs. Bates," Phyllis interjected. She was enjoying herself immensely.
"I suppose we're the lucky ones, then, to have you back here, for a bit," Anna smiled at him, then at Phyllis. She wasn't the only one enjoying herself.
"That's terribly flattering, Mrs. Bates, though I am not entirely sure it's true," he stammered, and there was a flash of his old insecurity. He straightened himself and smiled directly at Phyllis. He seemed to calm, then.
"I'll see you both tomorrow, bright and early, then, ladies?" He tipped his cap to the pair of them, and was gone.
The two women worked in silence again, until Anna caught her eye. They both started giggling, and Phyllis found she couldn't stop. She didn't really want to.
