A/N: Thank you so much for all of the response once again. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There will probably be 2 more after this, I have those planned (to some extent) unless I think of anything else. Thanks to testship again for your help.
Every Other Wednesday Afternoon
Chapter Four
"But what if someone recognises us?"
Bates was wary about this. Anna had sent him a letter a little over a week ago – on his birthday no less, and he assumed that was her plan all along – and had asked him to meet her in Pickering, a market town just slightly east from Kirkbymoorside, and a lot further from Downton, for their next afternoon off together. And to dress smartly. As it transpired, he finally being able to pry the information from her upon their arrival and meeting here, her idea for his birthday gift had been to have their photograph taken together, and Anna would buy a copy for him.
When John had asked Anna if she would be purchasing a copy for herself, she had replied no, and that she would take them to have another photograph taken once they had married, and when she could frame it by her bedside without the scorn of needless questions. She had spoken with such determination it made his heart swell, but she had also had some reservation mixed in her tone, almost as though she expected more to go against them, even though she was and remained to be their pillar of strength. John was always the one to be filled with self-doubt, whereas Anna had been the optimistic one in their relationship.
But here, as in Thirsk and Ripon, their chances of being seen together were still there.
"There was a reason I chose Pickering rather than Thirsk," Anna explained as they walked. "No one tends to come here for errands ever, and I highly doubt people would recognise us." John had to concede at her explanation and reasoning – it was evident that she had thought about this, as she always did. She continued, "So stop worrying." Anna rubbed the arm that was hooked into hers as they walked. "You said yourself that the divorce is going well, so even if Vera finds out…" John let out a shaky sigh just at the thought. Anna stopped them walking and placed her other hand on his other arm. She emphasised, "Even if she finds out, nothing will change between us. We are going to be together. And that's all there is to it."
She would leave Yorkshire and go with him if it meant their being together. She would move to Manchester, London, Scotland or Ireland… Damn, she would even go to America if it meant their lives would be spent together in relative peace. Their love had come so far to be stopped at the weakest of hurdles, and she would be damned if she let Vera stop them now after they had come so far. Anna had never been more determined about anything in her life.
John could not help but smile at her words. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"Now we'll have no more of that," Anna chastised him. "We're supposed to be celebrating a birthday."
His smile had not faded.
"Then lead the way, Miss Smith. Today I follow you." The look she flashed him made his heart weaken, John was sure of that. With their arms still hooked together, Anna led him through the market town, amongst the hustle and bustle of its residents and the surrounding areas doing their weekly market shop.
Anna seemed to have an idea of where the photograph shop would be because she weaved in and out of the crowds with ease, her eyes set with determination as she pulled him along, although he noticed she would always be wary of their speed and his knee. She would do that whenever the two of them had walked together in his first years up at the house – she would fall back and walk with him, instinctively slowing her pace, but never saying a word, only raising an eyebrow at his lacklustre comments that she should go on ahead without him.
John watched her with keen interest as she weaved them through the small crowds, smiling every so often as her face showed her concentration, her brow often furrowing as she attempted to remember the way from here.
"So, how long have you been planning this?" John asked nonchalantly, watching as her expression changed and her mind evidently changed its focus from their direction to him and his observation.
She turned and smiled up at him, evidently deciding that they could slow down a little, and that they would still make their photograph slot. "A while."
She seemed to be giving nothing away.
"How long?" he asked again, persistent.
Anna shrugged this time, looking away from him as her cheeks flushed a little. John thought he would have to persist further as she remained silent for a few minutes as they continued to walk together, but eventually she spoke up quietly, "Since you were last home…" Once again, when Anna referred to Downton as their home, he felt his heart beat a little faster. It was these little comments and remarks that made it seem so real. It was so easy to forget how far they had come when he was working his shifts in the Red Lion and spending his evenings at the flat. That was why these afternoons together meant the world to him – and to Anna – because they represented the glimmer of hope that this could all work in their favour. John had never considered himself the luckiest of men, at least not until he arrived in Yorkshire those years ago, but every Wednesday afternoon he would consider differently. With Anna by his side, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. "When we first started courting properly… when we had told the others."
She looked around at him then wearing her shy smile, almost asking him silently if he remembered the time he had stood at her side as they had revealed the news to their superiors. Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson had been slightly daunting of course, although the former had been more understanding, as long as there was no indecency. It seemed the housekeeper had always been fond of the two of them. Mr Carson had scoffed to begin with, exclaiming that this was not usual practice in a household such as Downton, but in the end, after some words from Mrs Hughes, he had come around to the idea. It probably helped that he had noticed their friendship growing over the last years, and the firm reservations Anna had held towards Mr Bates, especially when his job had been at risk and she had discovered the truth during her own time in London.
Miss O'Brien had managed a few choice words once their relationship had become public knowledge, so to speak, especially after she learned of his marriage predicament – luckily Thomas had been away beginning his training at the time, although John was sure he had received a fair few letters containing details of the news from his partner in crime. Neither of them had really announced the news to their friends and colleagues, it had instead been a matter of them discovering the news themselves, especially when the two of them would walk out together and ask for the same afternoons off occasionally to take tea in Ripon. Slowly their friends began to find out, and their employers too – Lady Mary had shared that she had suspected for a while because of how much Anna used to defend the valet, and Lord Grantham had clapped Bates on the back softly and claimed that he and "our Anna" were a good match, as long as he would take care of her. John had not revealed so yet to Anna, but he and Mr Carson had shared a similar encounter about a month after their unusual courtship was made known, declaring that since Anna was under his command, he expected Bates to take good care of her, and he would not have been happy to have a heartbroken housemaid under his jurisdiction. He would tell her one day. She would probably laugh at the old butler and his protective streak, Bates thought to himself.
"I remember," Bates confirmed, sharing her smile. "I remember how nervous I felt the time we told Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes. Both looked like they would bite my head off."
Anna giggled, imagining the look from both of their superiors. But she shook her head too, waving away the suggestion, "They just care."
Bates nodded in agreement as they continued their walk through the town. He was about to ask if they were nearing the place as the two of them lulled into a comfortable silence, until he saw that they had arrived.
Anna turned around to give him one last look – an excited glimmer in her eyes – before she opened the front door and led them both into the shop. There was a younger man behind the counter, at least younger than Bates – he was probably a little younger than Anna, although he could not be sure. John noticed the man giving them the once over, before he turned back to his books and checked their names. Once he had checked, the man looked back up, "Miss Smith?"
Anna smiled and nodded politely at the man, "Yes."
"Photograph of two…" The man began, checking the details he had written when Anna had come the previous week. "With your fiancé?" Anna nodded nervously, waiting for the reaction, but she received none. The photographer simply looked up and smiled at the couple, placed his pen down and started to move towards the back room, "If you give me a few moments to finish setting up. I will come and get you."
Anna nodded once more and smiled sincerely, "Thank you."
The man left the front room, and Anna instantly felt a hand brush across her lower back teasingly. Then she felt a familiar set of lips brush against her ear teasingly, and his hot breath as John whispered, "Fiancé?"
Anna could feel his smile, and when she turned around it was confirmed. Aware of their surroundings, Anna refrained from wrapping her arms around his neck, instead slipping one of her hands into his. She had previously removed her gloves, and he was wearing none, and the skin on skin contact sent shivers down her body, as contact between them always did. She replied just as teasingly, tilting her head to one side, teasing him with the skin of her neck, "I hope you don't mind."
She knew he didn't mind. John knew she was teasing him now.
"You know I don't," John growled, squeezing her waist before the sound of the door opening once more from the back caused them to spring apart.
Both of them looked up to see the photographer.
"If you'd both like to follow me," the photographer bid them to follow him. He led them through into the room where his equipment and camera were prepared. He motioned towards some hooks where they could discard their outside coats. They did so, and Bates hooked his cane on one of them too. The photographer then motioned towards the chair. "Now, Sir…" the photographer halted, unsure of what to call him, instead he simply stuck with the traditional. "If you would like to sit here, sitting straight forward – that way we can go with the traditional pose."
John remembered having his photograph taken once before, when he was much younger, at the request of his mother. She must have saved up for a while, John thought back now. He remembered at the young age of ten being quite a handful for the poor photographer, who despite everything had struggled to keep John from sitting still and fidgeting, much to the disappointment of his mother. It had been her shouting at him sternly to behave when he had eventually sat still with his mother and had his photograph taken, although he had sulked for weeks afterwards.
However, he still remembered the photograph now. He remembered seeing it for the first time a couple of months later and being enraptured with its technology. He also remembered finding it recently in the attic of his old home, and he had placed it in one of his favourite books for safe-keeping until he bought a suitable frame for it. It was the only photograph he had of his mother now, and he would be damned if Vera had gotten hold of it. She would not have kept it, and would likely have thrown it away, or hidden it to spite him.
As he sat down in the chair as instructed, he smiled and tried to imagine the photograph he would now have of him and Anna – of the two women who he had loved the most in his life. As he so often wished, he longed for his mother to still be here, for Anna to have spent more time with her. His mother had talked of Anna so much during the few visits he had taken to see her afterwards and before she had passed away, and all of that had been positive. She had scolded him for not being able to court his lovely, Yorkshire lass properly, and exclaimed that he should bring Anna back with him next time he visited. As it happened, he had been able to bring Anna to London with him one time, under the strict instructions of Mrs Hughes, who had been more considerate after understanding the frailty of his weakening mother.
John wished he had never married Vera. If he had not been married, he had Anna would be wed now, of that much he was certain. Perhaps there would be children – children that would know their grandmother and would be spoilt rotten during all of their visits. His mother would probably have moved to Yorkshire to be closer to them all, he imagined. If Anna wanted to leave service to look after their children properly, she would have spent her days with his mother, sharing stories of his childhood as the two of them doted over their little baby Bates.
John decided promptly to pull himself from these imaginings before he embarrassed himself – it was no use living in a world of what ifs. It never was.
He noticed now that Anna was stood behind him, her right arm draped over his shoulder, her hand just above his heart. John noticed the photographer as he motioned for him to take her hand, which he did willingly. She had not put her gloves on, and whilst John had the opportunity he caressed her hand, feeling the mixture of their softness and also the calloused tips that were marks of her hard-work and the down-sides of being a maid. But he still thought she had the softest hands.
The experience was over sooner than he expected. The photographer explained when he would take the actual photograph, and then it was over. He explained something to Anna about sending the photograph in the post, and John heard her giving the man his address at the Red Lion. He recalled telling Anna once before that sending him mail there would be easier, since he was more likely to be there during the day than at his flat.
John found himself falling back into his reverie when the three of them walked out towards the front of the shop again. He numbly watched as Anna paid for the photograph and double checked that the information for the postage was correct, before she thanked the man once again and left the shop, beckoning for him to follow her.
It was the afternoon air, and the sudden rain that must have begun once they had been inside, that suddenly shook him once more from his imaginings. He noticed that Anna was looking at him quizzically.
"You were quiet in there, what is…"
John could bear it no longer and suddenly pulled her around into the alleyway beside the shop, pulling her towards him as his lips crushed upon hers, taking her breath away as she gasped slightly.
He had wanted to kiss her ever since the two of them had arrived in Pickering, and now he could resist no longer. She was perfect, and she had given him the perfect gift for his birthday. He was unsure if she felt the same as he did during their weeks apart – whether she felt alone, and in need of his contact all the time. A photograph was almost the perfect remedy if she could not be there with him all the time.
When their kiss ended, leaving them both breathless and also messed up from the falling rain, Anna laughed, straightening his overcoat with both her hands. "What was that for?"
As if he needed a reason.
Bates simply kissed her again in response, taking her by surprise once more.
She was laughing again when he pulled away, but she spoke no more. Anna simply reached up and kissed him again, softly this time, before she looped her arm through his and proposed that they find some shelter from the rain.
"I thought we could take lunch in a hotel this afternoon." John proposed to her, watching for her reaction. He was rewarded with her face lighting up at the prospect. "And then we could lounge there, have some tea, until it is time for you to head back. I assume you will have to take an earlier bus."
Pickering was further from Downton than Kirkbymoorside, and as he watched her face fall slightly at the reminder, he was proven correct in his assumptions.
But Anna being Anna did not want to darken their afternoon together with thoughts of going home and leaving him.
"But a hotel lunch sounds lovely." She smiled brightly then, leaving his lungs gasping for air. He was unable to resist leaning down and kissing her once more, swiftly this time, before they walked out onto the main street and became the image of decorum once more.
They stepped out onto the street and John led them both through Pickering – through all of the people that were still there for the market – and towards the hotel he had looked into for their afternoon together. He had heard from acquaintances in Kirkbymoorside that the food here was delicious, but also not too expensive – not that money was an issue when it came to Anna, but most of his finances at the moment were focused on the divorce. As well as the food there was also a luxurious, but comfortable, lounge where they could sit, talk and take tea for as long as they wished.
The two of them walked to the hotel in a comfortable silence. Anna let her arm remain hooked around his as they walked, acting as though they were husband and wife. No one knew the difference here. None of it mattered.
They were shown into the modest hotel and its dining area by a polite maitre-d, evidently a young, local lad. He ensured that their coats had been taken properly before seating them at a table beside the window, the raindrops hitting the panes rhythmically.
"Don't you love the sound of the rain?" Anna asked, turning to John as they got comfortable in their seats.
"You always surprise me," John smiled back, admiring the woman he loved. Anna always surprised him in the best possible ways. "Why?"
Anna gave him one of those sweet smiles.
"It's soothing. The only times I can appreciate or hear it is at night, in bed."
"And we both know how much you enjoy your sleep," he teased her, pouring them some tea as the waitress brought over a pot. "Especially since you bite even my head off in the morning if you haven't had a strong cup of tea."
He felt her foot come into contact with his good leg under the table. John chuckled. He knew that the only peace that could be gotten at Downton was likely at night – there was just too much going on during the day; too many people to sit anywhere in silence and listen to the rain against the windows.
They ate a late lunch in the hotel restaurant, ordering some soup and chicken sandwiches which the two of them demolished, having grown hungry from their activities that day. Once their meal had finished and they had finished another pot of tea, John insisted that he paid.
"But this was supposed to be for your birthday," Anna argued.
"But it was my idea. Please, I insist."
John smiled at her then, and Anna felt like poking her tongue out at him. He knew what his smile did to her – when the skin around his eyes creased, a tell-tale sign of his true smiles, the ones that would often be limited to her and their private time together. It had always thrilled Anna whenever she saw the usually stoic John Bates smile at her like she was the most precious of treasures.
Anna relented then, although she made a mental note to pay for their next outing in the teashop in Kirkbymoorside. It was rare that John would let her pay for them, but sometimes she managed to slide past him before he could make a move. They had come to mutual agreements over their years together that they would each take it in turns to pay, although John rarely stuck to those promises, always willing to pay the entire bill.
John settled the bill and in the meantime asked about them lounging in the hotel sitting room for the afternoon. When he returned to their table, he noticed that Anna wore a pensive look. He watched her for a moment before making his appearance known, reaching out his arm for her to take.
He coughed. "M'lady."
Anna shook herself from her thoughts when she noticed he had returned, and then giggled at his addressing her. She took his arm gladly, making sure that she picked up her small handbag before the two of them made their way through to the modestly luxurious lounge in the hotel.
They seated themselves on two armchairs that were not too dissimilar to the ones the family had upstairs in their sitting room, with a little more wear and tear because of the amount of people that had used them here.
John asked the waitress for some more tea while they both got settled.
"This is nice," Anna commented. "Much better than getting soaked outside. Definitely one of your better ideas." Anna flashed him a cheeky smile.
John returned it, before a waiter returned with their tea.
"Have you eaten in a hotel before?" Anna asked him curiously, taking a sip of her tea before placing it down on the small, round table in front of their chairs.
"Only once or twice. When I was much younger." John stretched out his bad leg, letting out a sigh of relief as the tension left his knee. He then turned back around to Anna. "Have you?"
"Sort of…" Anna started and then blushed. "Only if you count stopping at a pub." John gave her one of those silly looks that told her that she should never be embarrassed with him, and that gave her the confidence to continue. He knew her family had scrapped by from what she had already told him of her childhood, and the fact that been in service for all of her working life. "We went to stay with my uncle and aunt in Whitby once for a holiday, they owned an inn."
"That sounds nice," John reassured her, thinking to their own dream. "An inn seems much more comfortable. Homely."
It seemed Anna had the same thoughts as he did, because she suddenly spoke up and asked, "Do you remember…"
"… our hotel, and a family." John finished her sentence. "Of course."
"So you would still want to… follow that dream? One day, I mean."
Anna noticed that his eyes were shining, and she felt her breath catch when he nodded perceptibly. There was no doubt in his eyes, and Anna always knew she could find the truth there.
They spent the next two hours in the hotel lounge speculating about their future life – their married life together, their future inn and perhaps even children, should they be graced with them. There were a few moments of poignancy, but John always spoke up and reassured Anna of some of the latest developments in the divorce process.
Neither had left from their afternoons together before with so much hope in their hearts.
"This must be the warmest November day I've ever seen!"
John smiled as Anna exclaimed delightedly. It was true, he thought to himself, it was one of the warmest days in November he had ever witnessed. Hence why, at the beginning of the winter months, he and Anna were sharing another afternoon off by the stream with a picnic. It had been Anna's idea, she had suggested it almost as soon as he had collected her from the bus stop.
He had been a little cautious to begin with, because Anna suggested they prepare their food at his flat, but he needn't have worried, because their time there passed without incident.
Well, without much incident.
John sighed and shook his head again. This caught the attention of Anna, and she turned around to look at him. She recognised the look.
"Stop, it was an accident," she began. "It only spilt over part of it."
John sighed again. "But it had just arrived."
He had spilt tea all over their photograph. He had it for a grand two days, and it was already spoiled. He had insisted that he would make them some tea while Anna had gone to wash her face and then make some sandwiches. He had brought the photograph from his bedroom to show her in the small kitchen area when the accident had happened. The stain only covered about a quarter of the photograph, but that had covered part of Anna's face.
"We will have plenty of opportunities to have another taken," Anna reassured him. "Now stop with that grumpy face of yours."
John still looked mournfully at Anna, and this time she sighed.
"Will one of my sandwiches cheer you up?"
John made a face, as if the idea of eating anything she had made was a frightening prospect, and Anna hit his arm, her tongue surprisingly remaining in cheek.
"I know something that will make me feel better," John teased as Anna began to unfold the picnic blanket, the two of them having reached their spot.
"Oh? And what would that be, Mr Bates?"
John responded by snatching the blanket from her hands, casting it aside and wrapping his arm around her waist, tugging her to him and kissing her fiercely.
Anna yelped in surprise, but soon found herself reciprocating. She began to feel weak at the knees when he coaxed her lips into opening, and she was glad when he guided them both to sit down in the grass, neither caring about the inevitable grass stains as they continued to become lost in their kiss.
John began to explore her body with his hands, running one up and down her side while the other cupped her cheek, rising up to feel her hair and fighting an impossible battle with her hat.
Anna, through her haze of passion, found the pin keeping her hat in place while her other hand messed up his hair indefinitely, giving him greater access.
His fingers then proceeded to stroke her hair while his other hand moved from her side to stroke her thigh through her dress. Anna gasped in delight at the contact, a combination of feelings building up inside her, however this caused John to halt.
"Are you…" John began. "I'm sorry. Too far. Sorry."
Whilst Anna found his worried mumbling adorable, she had to stop him. She placed her index finger to his lips. "Don't be sorry." Then she kissed him softly. "I'm not."
John could not resist kissing her again, but this time it did not last as long.
When they had parted, Anna let out a long breath.
"You look flushed," John observed cheekily, evidently pleased with the reaction he could omit from her.
"Now I have had quite enough of your cheek for one day." Anna chastised him. "It is rather warm."
Anna watched as his smile widened maddeningly.
She poked her tongue out at him, and then a thought suddenly crossed her mind. She began to remove her shoes and stockings and stood up, ignoring his confused glances.
Knowing that she had his full attention, Anna smirked gleefully, lifted her skirts a little and started to walk down to the stream. She bit back a gasp as her feet plunged into the cold water.
When she turned to look back at John, she saw him sat back on the picnic blanket which he must have moved. He was smiling at her, watching.
"Very risqué. What should people think if they come past now?"
"Let them think what they like." Anna flashed him a racy smile. "Will you join me?"
"I'm fine here, watching you." John flashed an equally suggestive smile.
"I should smack you for such talk," Anna responded as she turned around and waded a little further into the stream.
"But you won't," John chuckled, remaining in his position on the blanket.
He would have joined her, had it not been for the fact that his knee had been giving him grief recently. It was usually worse in the winter months, as Anna knew and understood, and being on his feet all day in the pub hardly helped matters. As a valet, his work had been periodical, and between these periods, he had the opportunity to sit and work, usually having mended some clothes for His Lordship. But at the Red Lion, he was stood behind the bar continuously, unless he was on a break, and John had tried not to show his pain, having had to bargain with the owner for the job in the first place.
"It's nice," Anna sighed dreamily.
"Not too cold?"
"A little," Anna admitted, turning around. "But it would be perfect in the summer."
Their eyes met, and an unspoken longing passed between them – neither wished to be here during the summer months. At least, Anna did not want to be visiting John – ideally he would be home, they may even be married, and then perhaps they could come back here together.
John watched her closely before extending his arm, asking her to come back and join him, "Come here."
Anna nodded and carefully made her way out of the water and climbed the small bank back to him. She fell to the floor and into his arms easily – as though it was the most natural of actions. She imagined doing this after a long, hard day at work – falling into his arms in their cottage; their home.
John wrapped his arms around her protectively, smiling to himself as her head rested against his chest. He felt her hand come up to stroke his chest through his shirt, feeling its steady rise and fall, and then her voice breaking the silence sweetly, "Is this racy enough for you?"
John murmured and kissed the top of her head, letting his eyes drift closed. "Perfectly."
Next: Unable to spend much time together over the Christmas period, Anna and John come up with an alternative celebration, and Mrs Hughes notices certain changes in Anna.
A/N: Regarding the photograph, I thought if he'd had a photo of the two of them he would have had it in prison instead of the lone photo of Anna. But I do think Anna is the type to think of that as a nice present for John, especially given their situation. I hope you all liked it.