November 13th, 1927 ~

Will came to work with me this morning. He said Archie promised him he could help pluck the chickens for tonight's chicken & dumplings. I can't imagine why he thinks that would be fun, but he does. I hope Archie checks them over good. Since Anna has started back to work we've begun eating here or taking dinner home with us. It's much easier on her and the food is very good. Not as good as Anna's, but close.

I'll run back home at lunch time to help her bring the girls over so she can work this afternoon. Our office is beginning to look like a nursery, but pleasantly so. We're actively shopping around for a play pen to leave here as their Moses baskets are getting a bit small for the girls. This room has become almost an extension of our home. This how it was always meant to be, since that night long ago, when we planned our future at the servant's hall table. The office is our haven here. Our private family haven. The staff rarely does more than poke their heads in to ask a question and that's fine by me. But there I go, being unsociable again.

Will and I walked to the Post Office earlier. I think he was hoping to see that Captain of his in the village square feeding the birds. He wasn't. It's strange, none of us have seen a glimpse of him since the Pub Quiz. Maybe he's left the area. I hope so. He just gave me an uneasy feeling and yet... I feel like I should know him.

By the time we'd picked up our mail it was pouring rain so we stopped next door at Maurice's Sweet Shop & Bakery to have cinnamon roll and tea and wait out the cloudburst. Who should we see in a quiet corner, heads together in deep conversation? Mrs Patmore and Mr Mason, that's who.

It would seem she's gone off Big Sam. I'm not surprised. I've rather gone off him myself. He's one of the most cantankerous men I've ever come across, and getting worse all the time. Honestly, I'm surprised we have any patrons at all in the pub, but he's been there so long I guess they're used to his orneriness. At least I hope so.

Will immediately hollered out 'Hey!' to them. They smiled and waved back, but I had to grab him by his shirt collar when he started over there. He would have sat down and made himself too comfortable.

Finally, the rain stopped enough for us to make beeline back to the hotel. I caught Will looking over his shoulder to the empty, wet bench in the square. He gave a sigh. I feel sorry for the little guy, but for me, I hope we've seen the last of Capt. Finn.

Time to go help Sam set up the pub room for the lunch crowd and then I'll go home and gather up my girls, all three of them. ~ John Bates

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Fathers & Sons

'What a nice man Mr Brick is. I hope he comes back again,' Anna said, as they walked back to the office where they had left the girls sleeping and Will colouring for a few minutes. They wanted to bid farewell to Mr Brick, a guest who had been staying at the hotel for the past couple of weeks. The whole staff had grown quite fond of him.

'Indeed,' John nodded. 'He did say he would come back in the spring. He loves it here in the village. Maybe he'll come back as a resident rather than a guest.'

'Either way it will be lovely. He's a gentleman, and now we'd better be getting back to the children,' Anna smiled. 'I'm sure your daughters will be awake soon…it's almost time to feed them.'

John chuckled at her words. Finn and Fee were his daughters whenever they turned fussy from hunger or cried. They were hers whenever they smiled and babbled. He found it funny. Endearing even, and he didn't mind it one bit. 'And Lord only knows what William could be getting himself into if he got bored with his colouring.'

'This one is Finn...and that's Fee.' The sound of their son's voice coming from the office startled them, and they both looked at each other with puzzled expressions on their faces.

'Who's he talking to?' Anna asked as John rushed his steps toward the door, ready to confront anyone other than the staff who had ventured in without permission. After all, there was a 'Private' sign on the door.

'William?' he called, but when he saw the sight that greeted him, he froze in his tracks.

'What's happe- Oh! Captain Finn?' Anna came from behind her husband and entered the room, a wary smile on her lips. 'I wasn't expecting you here,' she said tentatively. The Captain was standing near the girls baskets.

'I am so sorry, Mrs Bates.' The old man apologised, removing his cap from his head. 'I didn't mean to come in without permission.'

'But you did,' John remarked bitterly. The grip on his cane became stronger.

The Captain nodded apologetically. His eyes avoiding John's at all cost. 'You see, the lad was standing in the entrance and saw me passing by. He asked me to come in so we could have a chat,' the old man explained.

'I wanted Captain Finn to meet my sisters,' William piped up with a proud smile on his face.

'He talks so much about them, but I didn't know you weren't here,' the Captain tried to reason.

'Still, it's no excuse to invite a stranger into the office, William. And you should have stayed here with your sisters, not out wandering around,' John said.

Anna walked toward their daughters, who were still sleeping as peacefully as when they left.

'The Captain isn't a stranger, he's my friend!'

'William - ' John's voice rose, but before he could say another word, the old man intervened between father and son.

'Please, don't be cross with the lad. He didn't mean any harm.'

'No, he didn't, but he just learned that what he did was wrong. Very wrong.' John shot a scolding look toward the boy. 'Now please, would you leave?' he told the Captain. His voice steady and low, but anyone could tell he meant business.

'Mr Bates...where are our manners?' Anna said to her husband. 'No harm was done. We're here now, aren't we?'

'Anna…' John rolled his eyes in disapproval, walking over to his desk. He rested his cane on the back of the chair and sighed.

The Captain was still in the room, William holding him by the hand with a sad look on his face. 'It's all right, Mrs Bates. I was leaving when I saw there was no one here. I knew you wouldn't like it, as I said.'

'That's very wise of you, Captain Finn...now please…' John motioned to the door with his hand.

'Just…' the Captain continued before turning to leaving. '...don't be cross at the boy, son. He's just so proud of his sisters.'

When his words reached John's ears, something began to make sense in his mind. As if a light had been turned on after days and days walking through pitch black. 'What did you say?' he asked.

'I said that the lad's proud-'

'No! What did you call me?' John insisted. The look in Captain Finn's eyes gave away the answer he sought.

'I...I didn't mean…' the old man tried to speak, but it was too late.

John closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, then he turned to walk out the back door of the office and into the garden.

The old man called after him, 'Wait, John...' he wanted to say something. He needed to explain so much. This wasn't how he meant for it to go.

Anna looked at the Captain, confused by what was happening. John? He'd called him John.

She caught up with her husband at the door then. It had begun raining again. 'John, John wait,' she grabbed his arm, trying to stop him. 'John?'

'I'm going home,' he answered softly, opening the door.

'Please, stay, I'll go,' the old man begged, walking toward him.

'Just leave me be…' John held up a hand warning him to stop before he could reach him, and with that he moved to step outside.

'Stay, John. The Captain's leaving. ' She tried to reason with him but to no avail. He needed time. Time and space.

'He's my father Anna.' He looked at her, tears gathering in his eyes. His face was filled with absolute anger and pain. 'He's my father.'

He turned to walk home then and she let him go.

7:00 pm, the same day...

'Thank you, Daisy, you can rest the basket there...thank you.' Anna spoke as they walked into the cottage, the girls each in their moses baskets. Anna had needed assistance to carry them back home and, as always, Daisy had been glad to help.

'Anytime, Anna,' called Daisy as she left through the back door.

The house was dark, Anna noticed. Somber even, and she sighed at the thought. The lights were off and night was closing in on them. She wondered if John had fallen asleep. Anger tires sometimes and sleep is often the best option.

She went into the parlor then, leaving the girls in the kitchen, telling them she would be right back. The rain was beginning to fall harder outside and the sound of the wind rattled against the windows. Charlie, the cat ran past her in the dark and she let out a sharp breath.

'You almost made me fall...silly cat. Oh...' she brought one hand to her mouth and the other to her chest as soon as she turned on the parlor light. John had been sitting in his chair, in complete darkness, playing with his watch chain. His chin dropped nearly to his chest and his shoulders slumped forward. He had been crying, she could tell.

'Oh, you gave me a fright, John. I thought you were in the bedroom.'

'No. I've been here,' he said, his voice low and still very shaken.

'Daisy helped me with the girls. We had to wait for the rain to stop for a bit.' Anna tried to make small talk. To make him say something.

'Where's Will?' he asked, his eyes never leaving the chain in his hands.

'Sarah was in the middle of reading a...an adventure story to him.' She had almost said a pirate story, but after the day's nearly unbelievable revelation it seemed best not to mention that.

'I thought you would have waited for him.'

'I was going to but…' she approached him then, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'I wanted to be alone with you.'

He looked up at her, questioningly.

'We need to talk, John.'

He shook his head, 'I don't want to talk,' he grimaced.

'You don't, but you need to,' Anna sighed. 'I know you. You will brood and brood until you explode, or until you drive me mad with it. That's what you do.' She smiled down at him, her hand travelling up his neck before settling in his hair. 'You need to talk.' She stroked his head with her fingertips, knowing too well how it soothed him.

'What does he think?' John began. Tears forming in his eyes once more. He placed his watch and chain on the side table, only to clench his fists tight as he did.

'He leaves my mother to her luck, with a nine year old, and now he shows up forty some years later and he thinks I'm going to welcome him with open arms? Is that what he thinks? After everything...I...I thought he was dead, Anna. Dead! All these years without a word, without any news, and now he wants to join his family again? He should have thought about that before leaving us. And the sneaky way he went about it! Following me around, spying on me - because I now know that was him, Anna. Ingratiating himself with my son - '

'John, please…'

He rose from his chair before she could continue, and walked toward the front window, pulling back the curtains and looking out at the gloomy weather. It matched his soul, he thought.

'Is he out there now, watching?' He turned back to face her, 'I waited for him... I did. For years! I would sit on the front steps all day, waiting for him to come back home. He never even told me goodbye.' A sob caught in his throat, and he had to pause a moment before speaking again. 'That was the right time...but not anymore.'

'I've talked to him,' she told him.

'Oh, Anna - ' he sighed desperately.

'Listen...we talked and...I think you should hear what he has to say.'

'Don't you ask that of me. Please don't.'

'He gave me this…' she walked to him, taking a letter from her dress pocket. '...to give to you.'

'A letter?' John scoffed sarcastically. 'Does he think he will make his peace with a letter?'

'It's a letter from your mother,' she replied.

'To whom?'

'To him. They wrote, every year.'

'What? She...she didn't know where...where he was.' He looked at her confused. But nothing made sense anymore.

'She did, at least part of the time. And they kept in contact. This is the last letter she ever wrote to him. Read it,' Anna insisted. 'You've been left in the dark far too long, my darling.'

Anna put her hand on his cheek but he turned his face away. 'No. I don't want to read it! So she lied to me all those years? She said she-'

'John, just listen to what he has to -'

'No! You listen. I'm not reading that bloody letter and you stop trying to make peace for him.' He spoke harshly, without thinking. His anger was blinding him. Years and years of doubts and questions...and his beloved mother knew all along? He took a deep breath before looking at Anna again, already regretting raising his voice to her of all people. He softened his tone, 'I don't want to. Send it back, Anna.'

'You are so stubborn,' Anna said in a low and calm voice. She knew her husband was rightfully troubled by all this, and she understood his side in the matter, but she also knew that for his own good, he should give his father another chance. She had the proof right in her hands.

'I'm not saying for you to start calling him father by tomorrow afternoon, but it wouldn't hurt if you listened to what he has to say. I don't think you'll regret it, John.'

She brought her free hand to his cheek again. This time he didn't brush her away.

She continued, 'We know better than anyone that sometimes, things are not as easy as they seem. Not what they appear to be. We know that better than anyone else, John.'

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, but he didn't answer her.

'All right,' she sighed, showing him the letter before placing it on the fireplace mantelpiece. 'Here...in case you change your mind. She mentions me in that letter, by the way. Us. You should read it.'

Her words made him look at the paper, but he daren't to move. His eyes found hers then and she knew curiosity was already building inside him. Anna was sure he would read it.

'Daisy is bringing William home in a bit. Probably as soon as the rain lets up. Can you bring the girls in here and set the fire in the fireplace?' she asked him. 'I want to change.'

He nodded, managing a small smile and she kissed his cheek before going upstairs.

The letter remained there until later that night, when sleep didn't come for him. He went downstairs while the house was silent, and he stood before the now cold fireplace eyeing it on the mantle for a while, gaining courage to read it. And when he did…

To be continued…

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The Journal entries are written by Handy For the Bus & Terriejane.

We'd like to thank the lovely annamays (aka/fuzzydream) for being our beta.

Thank you for reading. Your reviews are very much appreciated. :)