Margaret Bates was nothing if not an astute woman. She must have heard the car or seen its lights when they pulled up.
"Welcome home," she called innocently from the open doorway, greeting them as though Anna accompanied her son all the time.
She closed the door and ushered them in. Anna followed Mr. Bates to the kitchen and they deposited the grocery bags on the counter. Perching herself happily at the kitchen table, was suspiciously casual when she asked them about their day. Anna liked bustling about within the confines of the kitchen. She was able to guess where most things belonged. When she couldn't, a brief glance at Mrs. Bates yielded a knowing head tilt towards the item's rightful home. After they unloaded groceries, Mr. Bates set Anna to work washing and chopping cauliflower and carrots, while he peeled and quartered the onions and whisked together some spices in a frying pan. By the time Anna finished her task, aromatic mustard seeds sizzled and popped under Mr. Bates' watchful gaze, and she was full to bursting with the familial domesticity of it all. Even though it terrified her a little, she couldn't help but recognize a space where she fit, where she wanted to fit.
"Here, help me lay the table," Mrs. Bates said after Anna washed her hands. "Johnny, love, what are you up to?"
"We've that leftover roast chicken, Mum," he answered. "I thought we could have a bit of chicken and vegetable curry."
"This boy," Margaret said, handed a grinning Anna three plates and a small handful of silverware. "Feeds me all this fancy food."
"It's left-overs served with brown rice. Not even proper jasmine."
"Yes but you doctor it up, and make it taste like it's from a posh restaurant."
"It's just spices."
"Hush and let an old woman brag about her boy."
He sighed patiently and focused his attention on cooking.
Mrs. Bates presided over the dinner table with smug enthusiasm. She reported on the news on the telly, the comings and going of Snatch and the unrelenting rain. Anna squirmed under the older woman's cheshire cat gaze only long enough to remember that she was famished and then tucked in with gusto.
"Johnny, you've barely touched your food," Margaret stated. "Are you feeling well?" She raised her eyebrows and glanced between the two of them. "And then there's you who look as though you haven't seen a meal in a week."
Anna nearly choked on the mouthful she was chewing. She looked at Mrs. Bates with wide eyes and swallowed.
"I'm sorry," she blurted, embarrassed. "I was caught up in my project and forgot to eat today. Your son saved me with those apple slippers. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started eating." Anna tried not to be obvious about how much more she looked toward Mr. Bates.
"Oh don't fret Anna. But you can't do that. You need to eat, you're all skin and bones. John, you'll send her home with something."
"Of course, Mum. And that reminds me. Why didn't you tell me that Anna designed cabinets for Lady Mary?"
"Oh I knew you'd piece it together sooner or later," she responded, the picture of composed innocence. "You're a bright boy."
She turned her attention back to Anna. "You'll bring Dink next time, Anna, love. I worry about him all alone. You'll have to go straight back after dinner. John, you're taking her of course? Good. I've been thinking that Dink should stay here on days you commute into London, so he doesn't have to be lonely. When do you go next?"
Less than a minute later Anna was promising to bring Dink first thing the following morning. Once again, when they finished Mrs. Bates sent her son to the kitchen to put together a bag of leftover vegetables and rice, so she wouldn't have to think about lunch. "John's curry is always better the second day," his mother said, with a nod.
Mrs. Bates let Anna help clear the table, but drew the line at the dishes, physically stepping in between Anna and the sink. "There's no need. I like the hot water for my arthritis, and John will put them away when he gets back."
They left her settled in her chair, watching an old episode of Murdoch Mysteries.
"Make him drive safely, Anna," she called over her shoulder.
"Oy! Mum! I do drive safely."
"Of course you do, Johnny-Bear."
Anna heard him sigh.
"Good-bye, Mum," he said in a pained voice.
They snickered and hushed each other after the door closed behind them. She took the umbrella from him so that she might take his arm, lean into him. Giddy in their relief, in the absurdity of their shared experience they made their slow escape through the rain, towards the car. She tugged his elbow and squeaked, "Johnny-Bear?"
"Sweet God," he said and groaned. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!"
"She enjoyed herself far too much tonight," Anna said when she had swallowed her laughter. "She looked like the cat who caught the canary."
"She was in rare form."
"It wasn't too terrible a gauntlet, though," she said.
"No?" he asked. "Care to share your worst childhood nickname?"
She shook her head. "Can't say I would."
"I thought not," he said. When he laughed the lines fanning from the corners of his eyes deepened. She'd caught him studying her twice as they walked together under the umbrella, and each time he glanced away shyly.
"I wish you'd just kiss me already, Mr. Bates," she blurted from beneath the umbrella as they reached the car.
"Do you?" he asked, looking rather like a rabbit, frozen in the torchlight. His expression changed when she nodded. She watched, wide-eyed at her own boldness, as he stepped into her, stooped down to her. She was growing to anticipate the bloom of sensation in her chest when they kissed. Her hands found their way into the warm space between his jumper and the lining of his bomber jacket. She liked it when he was close enough to fill her field of vision. She liked exploring the feel of his mouth with hers.
"It was clearly worth it," he whispered against her lips, when they had kissed each other breathless under the shelter of the umbrella. "That gauntlet of my mother's."
She could only grin and nip at his lower lip.
"Come on, before we get soaked through," he whispered. His words were rough in her ear.
She bit back a rather racy comment about being soaked and let him hold the umbrella and bag of food while she got in the car.
She felt forward and happy and only mildly mortified as they buckled themselves into their seats. She wanted to hold him again, feel his warmth seep into her skin.
He reached for her hand and slid the pads of his fingers over her knuckles. "I've wanted to kiss you like that for a long time."
He leaned into her. She hadn't ever wanted a man like this. Not after what happened, not before. Warm longing curled up her thighs into her sex, over the dimples that framed the base of her spine. To her disappointment, he pulled away after only the briefest and tenderest of kisses at the corner of her lips.
"Why didn't you?" she asked, not entirely sure if she was asking about then or now.
He chuckled, "I worried that I'd seem the lecherous old man."
She laughed at that and sat back in her seat. "How old do you think I am Mr. Bates?"
He started the car. "Old enough to make your own decisions. And young enough that I've no business kissing you without an invitation."
She smiled broadly out the passenger window at that, felt it in her breasts and low in her belly.
"I'm thirty-two," she said after a moment and glanced at him. "If that makes you feel any better."
He sighed and chuckled. "It does, actually. I was worried that you were closer to 20, and I was rather disgusted with myself."
"As for the invitation, I'd say it's an open one," she said, still feeling him on her lips.
They drove in silence, he showered her with side glances and half smiles that stilled as quickly as they surfaced.
Mid-roundabout his phone chimed.
"That will be from her," he said taking it from the pocket of his jacket. "What does it say? Did we forget something?" he asked, handing it to Anna and taking the corner. "We haven't left the food have we? No I held it for you, I remember."
"You did. It's on the floor." She read the text silently, loosed a squawk of laughter. "'You, beloved son of mine,'" she said with undisguised mirth. "'Are NOT — under any circumstance — to return back home for several hours.'"
"She didn't," he groaned. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."
"Well, I'd say she has grand plans for your night, Mr. Bates. Bit of a match-maker, your mum?" Anna chirped.
"That would be a generous understatement as of late. She wasn't, before you came along. I have to say she does have impeccable taste."
His phone chimed again. This time he grabbed for it but she twisted it out of his grasp. "Now, then, Mr. Bates, what would your mother say if she knew you were attempting to read texts whilst driving. In for a penny in for a pound."
She glanced at the screen, pressed her lips together and took a deep breath.
"'I'll remind you that I am not an invalid and thus perfectly capable of putting myself to bed and cooking a breakfast in the morning.'" When Anna finished reading she kept from laughing outright by adding, "Either way, neither one of us will be looking your mother in the eye tomorrow." Then she laughed anyway.
He drove in silence for a few moments looking mortified, before apologies began bubbling from his throat.
"Mr. Bates," she interrupted, not trying hard to reign in her laughter. "Please, I don't take it in any sort of negative way. She's a dear, dear woman."
They pulled onto her gran's street, with its gaggle of nosy neighbors. Well meaning busybodies, the lot of them.
"If you don't mind, turn in the drive and park round the side of the house. And really. She loves you and she's found a friend in me, how could I be offended?"
"Anna, I hope you know I would never presume...I mean at best I was hoping for a snog on the doorstep and a few minutes to ask you on a legitimate date, one not involving my mother." He made a pained noise and scrubbed his hand over his face.
She wanted a great deal more than a kiss and a promise from this man.
"Well, date and snog aside — although both sound delightful — I think you should come in for a nightcap, seeing as you've been temporarily banished from your own home," she said as casually as she could. "Besides, it's too cold and rainy for a proper go here," she continued, with a grin. "And we wouldn't wanted to disappoint your mother."
He groaned but joined in her laughter anyway. Drawing a deep breath, she pushed out into the rain. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. He opened his door, but sat still and watchful.
"Were you coming?" she lilted. The rain was bracingly cold. She had the food, but left the umbrella. She held her coat tightly shut, cocked her head to the side. Her body was singing with desire, all breathless and nerves. She let out a sigh of relief when he stood, shut the car door and followed, sporting a lopsided grin.