A/N: Thank you so much for the response so far, I'm glad you like it. The next chapter might take a little bit longer because I have no full draft yet, and it's nearing exam time, but I will try and get it posted ASAP. Thanks to testship as always who read through this chapter for me.
I tried to work out how much a bus fare would cost Anna back then, but this was the best I could figure, and I'm still not completely sure. If it's way off the mark and you can provide a better estimate, please let me know and I'll change it! Enjoy!
Every Other Wednesday Afternoon
Chapter Two
Just as Anna promised, she came back to Kirkbymoorside on the half past one bus from Downton. It cost her half a crown of her monthly wage, but Anna could hardly find it in herself to care. Seeing him again was worth any cost, and as she remembered the look of hope and anticipation across his face a fortnight ago, she would be damned if she would miss this opportunity for anything.
She had been questioned more than once about her cheery smile – which was apparently too uncharacteristic of her usual self, despite her usual disposition and the fact that it was her afternoon off – that morning by Lady Mary, Mrs Hughes, Miss O'Brien, Mrs Patmore and William, and her simple response had just been that it was a beautiful day for her afternoon off, and why shouldn't she be happy? In the back of her mind, she told herself that she would have to be more composed in the future, especially if she were to keep Mr Bates' secret.
But she was glad that on the bus she could smile freely, and this smile widened much as she arrived in Kirkbymoorside to see Mr Bates waiting for her at the stop.
Anna took a few moments in the time the bus came to a spluttering stop to take in his figure. She committed as much of it to memory as she possibly could. He was standing in his light brown suit, one which she had seen him in on several occasions and he had evidently used more pomade than usual to comb his hair back neatly, even though she secretly loved it when it was a little more rugged. Anna remembered a trip home from the village once in a sudden shower of rain which had resulted in both their hairs being messed up. He had caught her staring and she had blushed. He had soothed her embarrassment with a kiss – such had been the nature of their relationship at that stage. It had been a sudden autumn shower just over a year since the beginning of the war.
Anna shook herself gently as she watched him approach the bus and as he opened the door and offered his arm for support. She smiled and took it, letting her mind drift for just a moment to imagine this being just a regular act between lovers – between husband and wife.
"It's good to see you," Mr Bates smiled foolishly, closing the door when she had left the bus, and leant down to plant a warm kiss to her cheek, despite her hat being an obtrusion. "I thought you might not have come."
Anna gave him the silliest, most exasperated, look. She playfully swatted his chest as the bus rolled away behind them. "Silly beggar," Anna murmured, her eyes drifting to his lips before moving back to his eyes. "And why would I do that?"
Bates shrugged sheepishly. "You might have found better ways to spend your time off. Not wasting it here with me."
Anna sighed and tilted her head to one side, earning herself one of those smiles from him – the kind that reached the corners of his eyes, causing his skin to wrinkle in the most endearing of fashions. It had prided Anna back at Downton that he would often save this kind of smile just for her. It was one of the many features that had caused her to fall in love with him.
"You know very well, John Bates that I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world. But we will talk more about that later. For now, you can take me somewhere that has tea."
After he had gotten over the momentary elation of hearing his first name leave her lips – something he had urged her to do so often but had rarely heard – he smiled at her request, or demand, even. He loved to watch that spark in her eyes, the mark of the strong, independent and fiery woman he had fallen in love with, and the ones that seemed to hold him in such high regards.
Wordlessly, he offered to her his arm and began to lead them to the teashop he had planned for their afternoon together.
Anna took the last swig of her tea before placing the cup back down on the saucer and collapsing further back into her chair, albeit briefly, before she sat back up, straightening her back.
Bates watched her with an amused smile, sitting back in his chair as he folded his hands in front of him. He had just watched her down the entire contents of her cup in one, and he could not help but tease her, knowing that she would not be taken by it and in fact he regarded her as the complete opposite, "And there was me believing you were a lady, how very un-ladylike of you."
Anna resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him, aware that it would indeed prove that his teasing was correct. Instead, she replied with the words she knew he had heard before, "Well, Mr Bates, I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be." She regarded him closely as he evidently remembered their walk to the flower show and watched as the sweetest of nostalgic smiles adorned his face.
"You are," John murmured softly, fingering the rim of his own cup before taking a sip.
Anna rolled her eyes at how sentimental and soft the man she loved was before she continued. "Besides, I haven't had a cup since breakfast. You know what it can be like."
He knew. But he also knew what Anna could be like. John knew that she would work herself ragged on the day she would have her afternoon off, so no one would have to do the majority of her workload instead. It was one of the many qualities that made him love her more, if that was possible, her selflessness and her kindness to others.
But he did not mention her work out loud, because he knew she would shush him promptly.
"How have you been, since we last spoke?"
John changed the subject, wanting to learn as much as possible about how life was treating her, and how everyone was at Downton with the war raging around them. He yearned for any information which would remind him somewhat of his time there – the happiest times of his life. The most fulfilling times of his life. He would find the conniving tales of Thomas and O'Brien endearing now that he had chance to miss them, and the fuss Mr Carson would make for a dinner party would fill him with amusement, and a longing for those old times.
Life had been so much simpler before Vera had reappeared, but in a way he could not complain, because her presence in his life – even with their distance now – meant he could offer more to Anna. He would suffer here working his days as a recovering alcoholic in the Red Lion with a shabby flat above the local antique shop if it meant even a chance at a future with the woman he loved.
"I would usually say nothing has changed, but in war nothing really stays the same." John noticed a hint of sadness in her voice, so he remained silent, letting her continue when she felt really to do so. He watched as she fidgeted with the gloves she had taken off and placed to her side, and then the prettily decorated crockery. He made a mental note to buy her a beautiful set similar to it when they had their own home. Eventually, Anna spoke, but her voice seemed thick with emotion, "We lost one of the stable boys last week. Sam."
John remembered him well, he thought sadly. He had been a young lad when John had been there, barely sixteen he would suspect. He had only met him on a few occasions, once when he and Anna had taken a long walk during a late summer night after the news of the war was announced. Anna and he had been caught in a rather compromising position by the boy – by Sam, he reminded himself to use his name, God knows there were few of those during war – and Anna had blushed furiously, leaving him to cough and stammer their farewells for the night. Of course, neither of them were doing anything to be ashamed of, apart from wanting to hold and kiss each other, but it had unnerved them nonetheless, and John would always have Anna's reputation to consider.
"It must be difficult." John offered her as a consolation. If a consolation would help in times like this. He knew for the most part it would be useless. He recalled a funeral here in Kirkbymoorside just the other day – or a memorial, because there had been no body to bury. War left no one untouched, and war left no consolations. Not in his own first-hand experience and not now.
"We go on. As we must." Anna smiled, trying to lift the mood. "But enough of this, how are you? Is there any news on…"
He watched her for a moment, thinking that he knew the source of her discomfort.
"You don't have to feel uncomfortable saying her name. Or talking about the divorce. It is our future, after all."
This earned a wider smile from Anna admittedly, but something was still on her mind.
"What is it?" John asked gently. He decided to reach across the table and offered his hand for her to take, just as he had in the Red Lion two weeks ago.
"Nothing, really." She noticed that he was giving her one of those looks, the type that said he did not believe that for a second. She sighed, and relented. "Just… as you said, a little uncomfortable."
"Why?" He asked softly.
She couldn't tell him. She didn't know herself, really. Anna had never had any troubles before talking about it, but in the past it had been more of a distant hope. Now it was happening. It wasn't that she didn't love John – heaven knows she did, more than she could even comprehend – or that she didn't want this, but now that it was really happening, there was something unnerving and worrisome about losing all the progress they had made. It was bad enough to lose hope when Vera could not be found, but now the divorce papers had been drawn and they were that bit closer, it would be devastating to fall.
To not speak of it explicitly maybe meant that she could live with their dreams for a little longer, and that the pain would not be as all-consuming if things were to collapse.
Anna would have chastised herself for being so uncharacteristically pessimistic had it not been for the ferocity of her feelings and the lengths of her love for him. She had never felt this way, or this strongly, before and the thought of losing him again so soon after finding him frightened her.
"I can hear you worrying in there," John teased her gently, aware that this was a sensitive subject.
Anna met his eyes instantly and revealed her inner most fear, "I'm scared to lose you again."
John swore he stopped breathing for a moment, and one look into her eyes told him again – as they had done two weeks ago – how much he had hurt her by leaving. He realised how much he would have to do, not to regain her trust and love, because he was sure he had that, but to reassure her over and over, and to reassure her of his confidence about the divorce.
He opened his mouth to start speaking, but was interrupted as a young waitress came across to their small table in the corner of the teashop.
"Can I get you anything to eat, sir? Madam?"
Jumping apart in surprise, they with withdrew their hands, Anna finding a new place for hers upon her lap. John took the initiative and spoke to the waitress.
"I'm afraid we haven't had the chance to look," John apologised. "Could you recommend anything?"
He looked across at Anna, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze after her revelation, seemingly a little unnerved.
"We have our soup of the day, which comes with a bread roll."
John smiled up at the waitress. "We'll have two please." He looked across at Anna. "Is that fine with you?"
Anna smiled and nodded before looking to the waitress and smiling politely at her too.
Once she had left, John looked across at her apologetically, offering her a sheepish smile. She returned it.
He found this uncomfortable silence between them slightly unsettling. They had never experienced this before, except the one time when she had declared her love for him on the way to the flower show and they had cast each other cautious, nervous looks for a short time afterwards.
It seemed they had a little way to go before they would be back to their same old selves, and John vowed to do everything he could to make sure this happened as soon as comfortably possible.
They remained silent for the rest of the time until their lunch arrived. Anna looked up often and smiled at him softly and reassuringly, and in a moment of confidence she reached out her foot to gently brush against his leg. She made sure she had found his good leg before Anna settled her foot above his, causing him to smile back and flex his fingers, almost as though he wanted to reach out again and take her hand.
Once the waitress had come back, placed their meals in front of them and left again, John decided to speak.
"I know my leaving must have hurt you."
Anna sighed, smiled and shook her head.
"At first it did." Anna could see the pained expression across his face and promptly sought to amend it. "But inside, I think I knew there must be a good reason behind your leaving."
She had not confronted Mrs Hughes about it, but from the times the housekeeper had tried to comfort her head housemaid, Anna was sure she knew something. Mrs Hughes had simply mentioned that Mr Bates must have had his reasons and had sent her one of those looks. Needless to say Anna had found some comfort from it, even if she had not been aware of all the facts.
"I just wish I had been honest with you," John confided in her. "When I was in London, I had written to you so many times. I had so many letters, but I never sent them."
"Why not?"
"Because Vera would have known. She knew about the letters, she must have found them when I was working."
Anna looked at him with sympathy. She knew – or could at least imagine – the things that would have left her mouth, and she did not want John to repeat them.
"It sounds like hell."
John chuckled darkly, spooning some of his soup, "It was."
"All the times we went to London with the family, I always hoped to run into you."
"I'd have liked that," John smiled.
Anna smiled back and chuckled at his sentimentality.
"But you're here now." Anna spoke suddenly. She put her spoon down and reached across the table for his hand.
"Your soup will go cold." He noted.
"I'm not hungry."
John rolled his eyes but accepted her hand, not caring about their location, the people here or the lack of ring on her finger.
"We can be happy again."
"I am," Anna argued.
"Then you will be able to trust me again. And I can promise you that I will not leave you again, if it be through my own choice. And I will reassure you of these promises again if I come back to Downton."
"When you come back to Downton." Anna corrected, tongue in cheek.
John smiled and stroked her hand. "If you say so."
And he was slowly beginning to believe her.
"You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."
As Anna continued to be persistent, John rolled his eyes again.
Two weeks had passed since her last visit, and once again she had made her way to Kirkbymoorside on her Wednesday afternoon off. John had decided to organise a picnic for this visit, and the amount of food he had collected from the bakery had earned him a scolding from Anna.
"And I told you, it was no trouble. Nothing is too much trouble for you."
This time it was Anna who rolled her eyes. But instead of giving him a gentle nudge, she slipped her spare arm through his. She had convinced him that she could carry their picnic basket, and after a heated, although light-hearted, debate he had finally relented.
John turned, looked down and smiled warmly at her.
"Anything new from Downton?"
Anna sighed. "Much the same. William enlisted, as you know, but he hasn't left yet."
"Small mercies," John muttered underneath his breath.
Anna turned to him sharply, but as she noticed the dark look in his eyes, her heart fell. She rubbed his upper arm soothingly. "A talk for later," Anna suggested as they continued to walk through the country fields to a spot that John had reassured her would be perfect. "So, where is it you're taking me?"
He had described it to her in little detail upon her arrival, but Anna wanted to hear it again. Anna would notice that his eyes lit up and he became animated when he spoke, and it was these little details that Anna thrived upon. She thrived upon anything when she would only see him for an afternoon every fortnight.
John turned to her and smiled. "A spot just by the river. It's in the shade, but it also gets a nice portion of sun. Perfect for a picnic."
"And do you bring many of your women here?"
John smirked, but responded in a heartbeat. "Only you."
Anna could resist no longer and reached up to kiss him softly. John wrapped a spare arm around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. It had not escaped either of them that this was their first kiss since he had left last year. They had kissed on the cheek, and their hands but nothing like this.
As their kiss deepened, both in the knowledge that they were safe to embrace here, being a distance from Kirkbymoorside, they let the warm August sun wash over them as the piece of their broken hearts slowly started to realign.
"I couldn't eat another bite!"
Anna sighed, desperately wanting to recline across the picnic blanket, her stomach feeling bloated.
John really had gone to great lengths with this picnic. He had ordered many items from the local bakery, including some meat pies and her favourite jam tarts. He had topped that off with some slices of cake and fruit, and a bottle of cider for Anna and some lemonade for them both if she fancied drinking something different. She would be returning to work later that evening anyway.
"I did seem to overestimate the food." John replied meekly.
Anna simply smiled. She reached over and took his hand, and squeezed it affectionately. "It was lovely. Thank you."
"As long as you enjoyed yourself. I tried to remember your favourites."
"I did enjoy myself. But I'd put that down to the company and not Mrs Lee's jam tarts." John grinned at her response, even though he might not have fully believed it. "As my mum says, the company you keep says a lot about you. And memories are made and remembered because of the person you're sharing it with."
John smiled. Some time ago he may have retaliated with something along the lines of Anna being far too good for him; she could do better, but she had long since stopped those thoughts from leaving his lips. Anna had managed to reassure him of her love, and had taught him to feel better about himself. But John Bates and his conscience could still occasionally be a force to be reckoned with. His time away from Anna had brought all of this guilt back.
"And I can tell you are thinking too hard."
John sighed. "Brooding."
It would always be the excuse.
"Then brood about me."
And as if to cement this, Anna reached across, placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him sweetly.
John was surprised, but responded nevertheless. He wrapped his fingers in some of the loose hair not covered by her hat and deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked her lips and Anna parted them with a practiced ease. She tasted of sweet jam tarts and the stronger cider he had bought that she had sampled. John memorised the taste. He memorised the feeling of it all. The softness of her lips, the silkiness of her golden tresses between his fingers, the soft hum of her voice as she responded eagerly to the kiss…
Anna pulled away first when she needed to breath, but she ensured that their faces were only the shortest distance apart. "I love you," she spoke against his lips. He felt the curve of her smile against his lips. It sent his heart racing.
John pulled back only slightly to look into her eyes. Once he had done this and caught her gaze, showering her with his admiring gaze, he kissed her again. Softly this time – a short kiss that acted as his response.
As he declared his love through his actions and not words – as he had done so often during his years with her at Downton – he let himself hope that they would make it over this hurdle together. He finally gave himself hope to believe.
Next: One visit doesn't go quite as planned when a fond memory from the past is revisited, and John takes Anna to the bookshop.