June 16th, 1927

There's not really much to say today. I'm waiting for Anna and William to come to lunch. The reception will be slow this afternoon. No one is arriving, no one is leaving. We have a full house. Which is quite good! We've received a few calls from potential guests but we had to say that we were booked for the rest of the week. Thankfully, everyone was understanding and we have several confirmations for the weeks to come.

A mystery is brewing at The Grantham Arms. Sam told me the strangest thing this morning. He says that a few times a week, for the past two of weeks, a jar of pickled onions has gone missing from the pub.

We always have a couple of jars of pickled onions and pickled eggs on the bar for the customers. Only the onions have gone missing. It's odd because Sam keeps everyone and everything in order and he would see if someone took one of the jars. He can't figure out how it happens or when. He's so upset about it. I think if he catches the culprit things won't end well at all. He believes someone is playing games with him and no one makes fun of Sam. Why would anyone steal pickled onions?

Daisy was here yesterday and they've already found a replacement for her at the Abbey. In two weeks time she'll start working with us and I couldn't be more pleased. She had a good chat with Mrs Patmore and she offered Daisy her cottage to live in. Her cottage happens to be just across the road from our cottage. It seems like the perfect plan! At least for now. But I doubt Mrs Patmore is retiring anytime soon.

I think that will be it for today. I can see Anna and William coming through the garden. Good, because I am starving!

~ John Bates

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'John…John? Wake up, John.'

Her voice softly invaded his dreams, but when she tapped his shoulder for the third time he jumped and opened his eyes to the darkness.

'What?! What's the matter?' He blinked heavily before feeling her hand on his arm again.

'John. Calm down, love.'

'Anna! You gave me such a fright.' He brought his hand to his chest and breathed in. 'Are you alright?'

'Yes, I'm alright but…it's not my fault. Promise me you won't be upset.'

He tried to see her figure in the dark. 'Of course I won't be upset, love. What is it?'

'Well…I'm…I'm craving pickled onions.'

'You're what?'

'Pickled onions, John. I'm craving some…from those jars we have at the pub.'

'Anna, you don't even like pickled onions. You hate them.'

'I know but I suppose your babies love them,' she said smiling, rubbing her belly over the fabric of her nightdress. 'Would you be the wonderful husband you are and fetch me a jar?'

'What? At the pub? What time is it?' he asked, fumbling to turn on the light on his nightstand.

'John, if I don't eat some pickled onions I won't sleep a wink tonight. You don't want that do you?'

He looked at her then, the light illuminating the room. She was pouting, with a hand over her bump and fluttering her lashes at him. 'No, 'course I don't want that,' he told her rubbing his eyes. 'But it's four in the morning, Anna,' he complained.

'Please…' she kept looking at him and he could never say no to her. And her being pregnant just made it all the more difficult.

'Alright, alright. I'm going to get you a jar then.' He stood from the bed and put his robe and slippers on and he didn't leave the room before earning a kiss and a 'thank you, darling' from his wife.

'Bloody cravings…' he whispered, now in the garden, a torch that gave off the bare minimum of light in one hand, his stick in the other, and pure instinct guiding him on this dark moonless night. 'First watermelon in February and now pickled onions.'

He reached the pub door without breaking his neck, and after fiddling with the keys for a moment he was able to get inside. Ever so slowly, he made his way through the pub, stumbling into a few chairs as he did so.

'Now…pickled onions,' he said to himself. But what he didn't expect was the tall figure behind him.

'Who's there?! You pickled onion thief!' Sam was wielding an axe, lifted well above his head, ready to inflict his own brand of justice at any second.

'Sam! Dammit, it's me!' John brought his hands up, his eyes wide and scared, the torch flashing on his face so Sam could see him.

'Bloody hell, Mr Bates! I almost killed you!' Sam took a deep breath and the axe clattered to the floor.

'What were you doing here with an axe?!' John shouted, his hands flailing so much the light from the torch was dancing all around the pub.

'I thought you were the pickled onion thief…you know, mother always said that those who steal hay will steal gold one day.'

'We'll, leave your mother's sayings for another time…an axe, Sam!'

'I'm sorry Mr Bates but what if the thief fought back? An axe was the only thing I had at hand.'

'Alright, alright,' said John, trying to rub away the niggling headache forming in his left temple '…just…go to back to bed then…it's only me.'

Sam nodded. 'Do you need something?'

'I only came to get some of these pickled onions,' John said, taking one of the jars.

'So…you're the thief?' Sam pointed out with a surprised look on his face.

'I am no thief, Sam, for goodness sake! Anna asked me to…she's craving them.'

'Maybe she's the thief then…' Sam suggested.

John thought for a moment…actually, that made sense. 'Well…I'm good now,' he said finally. 'I have my pickled onions and Anna is waiting. You go to bed now. Rest and get rid of the damn axe, I beg you.'

'As you wish.'

John locked the pub and walked home again, 'Oh no!' he sighed, exasperated when the torch light grew dim and sputtered out completely. He hit it against his palm a couple of times hoping to shake some life back into it, to no avail. 'No, no…just no!'

The garden was a pretty much open space, but it had its traps. Bushes, flowers, trees, holes dug by Jack. Slowly he made his way, trying not to step in anything or trip, but before he could think twice, there was something soft under his slipper and an urgent hiss around him, and when he realised what had just happened, damn the cat, ran away making him slip and fall backwards.

Anna would have no pickled onions tonight.

'Oh blast!' There was pickled onion brine all over him. His pajamas and robe were ruined, probably his slippers too, his backside was aching and he only prayed for this night to be over.

After several ungraceful attempts he finally struggled to his feet, smelling of vinegar and onions, making him a bit sick to his stomach, and he continued to make his way towards the cottage. He took a deep breath when he made it to the door. Finally, he thought. He turned the knob and entered but when he reached the stairs to the bedroom John's eyes grew wide as Jack came pounding down the steps, jumping on him like a wild beast, and causing him to fall on his backside again.

'Jack! You crazy mutt! Stop it!' He tried to keep his voice to a whisper but it was quite hard to do when Jack was licking him from head to toe. Apparently the smell and taste of the brine was proving to be too enticing for Jack to resist. John batted his hands at the dog trying to push him away. Still keeping his voice low, he resorted to useless threats. 'Stop it! You will sleep outside for a week!'

Eventually, the dog tired of this game and John was able to reach their bedroom. He opened the door wide and stood there, staring at Anna through slitted eyes. His clothes wet with brine and muddied from flopping around in the garden, the horrible smell invading the room, his lips pursed.

'Oh my God, John! What happened?!' Anna brought one hand to her mouth when she saw the state of her husband.

'Just tell me…' he breathed heavily, a lock of hair falling to his forehead. 'You are the pickled onion thief, aren't you?'

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I was so happy when John told me that in two weeks we'll have Daisy with us! I truly think that she will do a wonderful job and that everyone will love her. I really can't wait. The next two weeks can't go by soon enough.

I've been doing a bit of cleaning today. I have to keep moving, don't I? And my cottage won't clean itself. I like a tidy home. And I really do like cleaning, it keeps my mind occupied. I don't like to spend my day doing nothing. Too many years of work has made it a habit. I've been knitting as well, mostly winter clothes. Blankets and little jackets. Some socks too, for William and John. They like my warm socks during those icy cold days.

This past week, I've been sleeping a bit better. I reckon the babies have been sleeping at night as well but they've been moving all day in return. I don't mind that, I love to feel them, to touch my belly and to speak to them and get a reply. I do think they understand everything I say already and it's so sweet when John talks to them…they do answer! I swear they do.

It makes them feel so real. I know they already are but…it's different. When you feel your baby you know for sure that you aren't dreaming.

William has been chatting up a storm with his imaginary friend, Charlie. I hear him outside the kitchen window, and such interesting conversations they have too. He has such a vivid imagination, my darling boy. He's there now, talking and talking, playing with his wooden train.

I am so blessed! I have a wonderful husband and a wonderful son and soon I'll have two more wonderful people around me. I couldn't be happier.

I thought my cravings were over, but I've been having the strangest ones lately… pickled onions, of all the things! I hate pickled onions. I've been borrowing a couple of jars from the pub now and then. I'll have to get Archie's recipe and replenish Sam's supply.

~Anna Bates

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Archie's Pickled Onions Recipe

10 pickling onions, peeled

Enough malt vinegar to cover onions

A handful of green, white and black peppercorns and coriander seeds

Peel the onions and pack one third of them tightly into a large preserves jar.

Scatter one third of the pickling spices over the top of the first layer of onions and continue packing the onions into the jar - adding two more layers of pickling spices as you go.

Pour the malt vinegar into the jar, making sure that all the onions are covered by the vinegar.

Add some extra vinegar if there is not quite enough.

Seal the jar and store in a dark, cool place for at least 6 weeks before using the pickled onions.

Brining Notes:.

You need to begin 2 days ahead by placing the onions in a large non-metallic bowl. Then mix 2 pints of water with 4 ozs of salt together, pour this over the onions and leave them covered with a cloth for 2 days.

Drain the onions and dry them well, continue as above. These onions will last for up to 2 years in ideal conditions - a dark and cool pantry or store room.