Sleepless Nights -part 1

The old man finds himself woken from a sound sleep for the third time this week. Maybe it was becoming a habit, he thought to himself. Four o'clock. Same as the last two times. Odd, that. He didn't much like it.

This time, the source for his awakening had been different, or at least felt different. He could have sworn something, a breeze maybe, had whispered his name in his ear. He had no more than batted that away when, from beneath the sheet...something had pulled on his big toe...and now, he just didn't know. Was it a dream? A dream that had seemed so real? It wouldn't be the first time it had happened but it had been enough to unnerve him.

Maybe he should make sure everything was at it should be. Was the window opened, perhaps?

He throws the covers back and puts a flame to the lamp on his bedside table before scanning the room. Window closed, door locked, no breeze, nothing. Probably just a dream after all.

He sighs sitting up on the bed, one hand scratching the back of his neck and his mouth opening wide in a long yawn, and that's when he hears it and he freezes at once.

Steps coming from outside of his room. He sighs again, somewhat relieved. Probably just a guest in need of help, or even worse! Maybe just a guest trying to sneak out in the dead of night without paying. Well, not while he's there, not under his watch.

He grabs for his wooden leg but it's not in it's usual place at the side of his bed. What the...then he spies it laying on the table in the center of the room. He would never have left it there before turning in. What's going on, he thinks to himself. Is someone playing tricks on me? But how could they? He can see from here his door is hooked shut.

Luckily for him, his stick is hooked over his iron headboard. He grabs it, levers himself out of bed and over to the table where he puts on his wooden leg. Then he picks up the lamp and opens the door as quietly as he can, sure he will catch someone in the act of...something. His speech is already forming in the back of his mind, 'Reckon you have to check out before leaving this property...or were you thinking about running off without paying?' But when he opens the door he's faced with nothing, nothing at all.

The lamp is enough to lighten up the hallway but there's just nothing there to see. The noise continues though, further away now, but real enough. It comes from the stairs that leads to the guest rooms and his sixth sense tells him something's wrong.

'What on earth…' He points the lamp toward the stairs and swallows hard. More darkness, piercing darkness. Whoever is walking back and forth can surely see in the dark. Should he go up and see what's happening? Maybe giving in to...well, not fear but caution, yes, maybe giving in to caution is the best…

'Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph!' A cold hand grips his shoulder and he swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest. He turns around, wide eyed, 'What in the bloody-'

'I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Captain! I didn't know you were here,' Caleb apologises, his hand still on Eamon's shoulder, trying as best as he can to calm the old man down. 'You gave me a fright too.'

'Jesus! You like to have given me a heart attack, lad! What are you doing here?'

'I thought I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I thought a guest needed something.' Caleb answers taking a deep breath, peering up into the darkness of the staircase, trying to understand whatever is happening.

Eamon brings up his lamp up as he stares Caleb in the eyes. The light is casting eerie shadows on the old man's face and if Caleb hadn't known him, his craggy visage would have certainly sent him running for the safety of his bed. 'Old building. Just the timbers settling.' Caleb's voice comes stammering and he doesn't really know why...Eamon's expression is an odd one, shiver inducing even. Caleb doesn't know what else to say.

'I reckon,' replies Eamon, casting the light around the lobby. 'Well, might as well go back to bed,' he turns and walks to his room, as if this strange meeting hadn't happened at all.

Caleb stays a second more, watching as the man closes his bedroom door and the hotel falls into deep silence once again.

xxxx

John is awake in the middle of the night. He looks over at the clock on his bedside table. Four o'clock. The urge to get up to go to the bathroom is strong, but at the same time the warmth of their bed makes him reluctant to leave it. On top of that, Anna's legs are tangled with his as she sleeps, her head resting on his arm. She's always been like this, his Anna. Entwining herself around him while they sleep. It took him some time to get used to it, but after years of marriage, he finds he can't sleep any other way.

But nature is calling and he can't help but answer. Slowly, he untangles himself from his wife's body and gets up, walking to the bathroom as quietly as he can manage. Mission accomplished, he checks in on his son, peering through the door into the boy's room to see him sleeping soundly and peacefully. Not one minute later he's back in their bedroom and as usual he checks the twins as well, peeking behind the screen that separates their beds from the rest of the bedroom. He smiles as he sees their rosy cheeks and their chests moving up and down as they breath.

Then, he walks to his side of the bed, anxious to crawl back in. His feet are freezing from walking around barefooted, but before he gets in he sees a light out of the corner of his eye. Now, that's odd. A light coming through the window at this time of the night…? He moves to peer out. It's the window that faces the back of the hotel and he sees its source. His father's bedroom.

'What are you doing?' Anna's soft voice reaches his ears. He shakes his head, coming back to bed.

'Just...my father has his lamp on.'

'Maybe it's just a candle, doesn't he sleep with a candle?' Her voice is so sleepy, he can hear it in every word.

'It's a lamp. It's too strong for a candle. I saw it from here,' John replies as he joins her in bed again, immediately reaching out for her. 'My feet are cold,' he whines.

'Silly beggar, why didn't you put your slippers on?'

John doesn't answer her. Instead, he finds her legs with his own and his freezing feet find her warm skin. She gasps at the contact and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her to him. He kisses her then, her lips and the skin of her neck as she runs her hands through his hair, enjoying his attentions, even if the hour is late. His feet begin to warm up.

'I hope he's not having trouble sleeping,' she says between kisses and he looks at her with questioning eyes. 'Your father.'

'Oh! Well...don't know.' Not really concerned, he continues with his kisses and gentle touches. His hands find her breasts underneath her nightdress, causing her to bite her lower lip at the sensation.

'I hope not.'

'He can take care of himself, thank you,' he replies, before placing another kiss on her lips. This time, he's slow and passionate, daring his tongue to find her own. 'I have more urgent matters before me at the moment.'

'I wonder what those matters are, Mr Bates…' she teases him, one of her very bold hands travels down his body, stopping at the waistband of his bottoms and caressing him there.

'Let me show you,' he says and neither speak much after that.

There are cries muffled into heated skin, and moans muttered against lips and ears. Apart from that and the sound of the lovers bodies moving together, everything's silent. A deep silence in the darkness of the night.

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January 26, 1928

My father isn't the only one who's losing sleep at night. I woke up at four o'clock, went to the loo, checked on the children and had been back to bed no more that twenty minutes when we hear Will moving about in his room. We didn't pay a great deal of attention to it because we assumed he was going to the loo too, but when we didn't see him pass our door I got up to check on him. Well, I found him - standing behind his bedroom door, peeing in the corner and sound asleep. I know I shouldn't have, but I yelled, 'Will, stop!' That's when he woke up, turned around, sprayed me and then started crying.

Of course Anna came running, picking him up in her arms, getting her nightgown wet in the process. We looked down at our bare feet, standing in a warm puddle. There was no sleeping for any of us after that. This was the first time Will has walked in his sleep and it's rather frightening. I think we might have to rig a gate up at the top of the stairway. I'll see what I can come up with this afternoon. We'll need one when the twins start crawling anyway.

Once we all got cleaned up, we went downstairs. How the girls slept through the ruckus, I'll never know. I got a nice fire going in the kitchen hearth while Anna made us a big breakfast and by half five we were all three cuddled back in our bed and sound asleep and stayed that way until Finn and Fee woke up.

I'm looking out of my office window just now, the one that faces the back garden and I see the old man circling the snowman replica of himself that Will and I made on Sunday. I don't know how it's escaped his notice this long. It's not a bad representation if I do say so, seeing how we used his own cap and scarf and a smattering of pine needles for his bread. It took every ounce of strength we had not to start snickering last night when he asked Anna if he'd left his cap at the house.

Anna gets the night off from cooking. We're being treated to my father's much bragged about sailor's stew. He and Will are going to the house later today and fix it.

I'd best go. I need to walk down to the post office and get the morning mail

~ John Bates

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Sleepless Nights - part 2

Dinner was a great success! Will and Eamon's sailor's stew was delicious. Unfortunately the kitchen was a mess, but that was all taken care of in short order. And now the big yellow dog, Jack, was happily enjoying a meaty beef bone in front of the kitchen hearth.

Anna had taken the children upstairs to feed the girls and give William his bath and story. John had mentioned earlier in the day that his father was acting differently, but differently from what they didn't know. Neither of them actually knew much about his normal behavior, since he only recently came into their lives.

Now, the two men sat in the parlour alone. Both filled to the brim with dinner. Both pleasantly satisfied.

'Anna always has a bottle in case our friends Mrs Patmore and Mrs Carson shows up. She likes a good port.' John told his father, handing him a glass.

'Anna's a smart girl. This is a good port, I tell you. It's a shame you don't drink.' Eamon replied, taking a long sip.

'Is it? I don't think it is. I'm doing well without drinking...very well indeed.'

'Yes, you're right. I forgot-'

'Never mind that. That's a time I don't want to remember.'

'Good enough.' The old man placed the glass on the side table, leaning back on the settee and letting go of a contented sigh. 'That boy…' he chuckled as he continued to speak. 'He's full of energy. You ought to keep him occupied.'

'I see you are giving your share of advice from an experienced fatherhood,' John said, lifting an eyebrow, his tone a mocking one.

'Am I wrong though?'

'It's harder in the winter,' John gave in. 'We always go for walks during good weather, don't you worry. And he get's out often enough. Didn't you see that splendid snowman we made in the back garden last Sunday? It bore a striking resemblance to someone I know.'

'Aye, that I did, and I'll be wanting my cap and scarf back too. No, I don't worry one bit.' Eamon remarked. 'You're a wonderful father, that I know.'

His words made John heart settle in his chest and he allowed his eyes to gently gaze at the old man. The relaxed position he was in, laid back with not a care in the world, took him back to his childhood. To happy times he had shared with his father. For all that he could remember, whenever his father was present, he had been nothing but happy and joyful.

'Do you remember when we used to stargaze on summer nights?' he spoke after a moment of silence.

'Oh, I do,' Eamon smiled. His mind taking him back in time. 'I remember those times more than you can imagine. You would sit on the stairs outside and wait for me to come home from the docks...Ha! As soon as you saw me at the corner of the street, there you were jumping up and down and already making plans for our night.'

'Mother would make us sandwiches and something to drink so we could eat outside,' John added, grinning. He had been carefree, indeed, in those early days.

'Those were good times…' Eamon nodded. 'I would place an old blanket on the ground and we would sit down there the whole night. Sometimes you would fall asleep after a few good hours, remember?'

'I always wondered how I ended up in my bed when morning came.' John laughed, bringing a hand to his mouth before dragging it along his jaw. His stubble was itching already after a long day, he would have to shave before joining his wife in bed. 'I bet William wonders the same when he falls asleep in our bed or on the sofa.'

'You should never tell a child your secrets,' his father said. 'They will find out when the right time comes. No matter what it is, be it Father Christmas or how did they get in bed.'

John nodded, smiling 'That's true. I reckon Percy took care of Father Christmas for William though.'

'What about that letter you wrote? Anna told me about it.'

'My boy's smarter than what we think he is,' John spoke with pride. 'I think he knows it was me, he just won't say...We should do that when the weather is good again,' he suggested.

'Do what?' Eamon asked, not quite grasping what his son meant.

'Stargazing. The three of us...Anna will call it boys time. She'll be glad for that.'

'Oh! That would be lovely…' Eamon agreed before looking at John with an uncertain expression on his face, 'if you don't mind me being there.'

That made John frown. 'You think I dislike you more than I actually do.'

His father looked down at his hands on his lap then. He pursed his lips, his mood shaken by his feelings. If he was a sweeter man, a man not so marked by hard work and the roughness of life he would have shed a tear. Why? Because his son didn't hate him.

'Although…' he began, the silence was making him too soft. 'You should do it just the two of you. I can join now and then, but...I think it's important for fathers and sons to spend some time together. God knows when those girls are older you'll be running after them every second. Moments alone with your boy will be a blessing.'

'You do have some advice to give. I wasn't wrong,' John grinned. This time he wasn't judging the man.

'They say girls are their father's daughters, don't they?' Eamon continued. 'They are women, fathers are men. They have a way, a sweet, gentle way to touch our hearts...they give us that look and talk softly...they learn it from their mothers. Sons well...they're protective, possessive even, their mothers are saints, no matter how good the father is.'

'Don't you tell me I have some brothers and sisters spread across the world.' John eyed his father trying to suppress a chuckle. 'Do I?'

'Not that I know of,' the two laughed at the Eamon's words, his cheeks turning red. The port was beginning to settle on his stomach. 'And what about you?'

'About me? What you mean?' John asked, puzzled.

'You were in Africa, weren't you? They say the women are dangerous as fire there, doesn't help they don't wear much...I've been there, I know.'

'I was in Africa to fight, not for leisure,' John stated, his tone turning serious.

'You can't tell me you were there and you didn't relieved some...what is that they call it? Stress in the arms of a lady.'

'I can tell you that, and the answer is no, I didn't,' the son's voice was sure and conclusive.

'If you say so…'

'I was a married man and I respected that, even if...I wasn't happy. There are things I believe are to be followed, rules, morals,' John continued, making his point by waving his hand and Eamon knew better than to keep the matter going on longer than it should.

'You are a better man than I am, Gunga Din!'

John nodded, pleased with his father's reaction, when something came to his mind just out of the blue. 'By the way...how are you settling into your room?'

'Very well. Why do you ask?'

'I saw your lamp light during night...were you having trouble sleeping?' John replied. 'Anna told me to ask you if you need a new mattress or something. We checked that one out and it seemed in good shape, but Sam has spelt there and well...he was a heavy man, maybe you need a new one.'

'Ah, no, no, I like that room. The bed's comfortable. It's just…'

'Just what?'

'Ah...nevermind.' Eamon shook his head. 'Don't bother with it.'

'Bother with what? Oh, come on, tell me! Are you afraid of the dark, Mr Bates?' John grinned, teasing his father.

'Ssh! Nonsense. 'Course I'm not!'

'What's wrong then?' John insisted.

'Well...ah what the hell. It's just, I've been hearing these...noises.'

'Noises?'

'Noises. Tap, tap, tap. Like steps,' the old man explained. 'Swore I could hear someone calling my name too. Odd thing, you know. It's been happening these past couple of weeks. And like someone's watching me and get the shivers, and-'

'Maybe a ghost of one of your old lovers whose child you never recognised as your own,' John mocked chuckling.

'Shut it boy! I'm serious. Ask Caleb.'

'Caleb?'

'He heard it too. He gave me a fright, he did. I got the lamp and went investigate. I thought it was some guest trying to sneak out in the dead of night without paying. Well, not on my watch, they wouldn't.' Eamon spoke heartily now, almost with an upset tone to his voice. 'I opened my bedroom door and there was nothing. The noise came from upstairs, but I swear to you it was pitch black. Caleb was investigating too because he heard it. He approached me as silent as a mouse, enough to make my heart almost stop in my chest, the chump,' he wrinkled his nose unamused.

'He didn't mention anything to me today,' John said.

'Cause…' Eamon shook his head. 'He was as pale as a corpse when I faced him. Probably didn't want to mention it not to trigger anything else.'

'What do you mean? Trigger?'

'Ah, I don't know...don't mind me, this old beggar. I better go now, I reckon the wife wants her husband back.'

'I reckon she does,' John smiled, nodding and rising from his chair to accompany his father to the door.

'You tell her about it…' Eamon said as he stood in the doorway. 'She'll probably know what to tell you. Women always have a soft spot for...these kind of things.'

'I have no idea what you are talking about.' John said, confusion written all over his face.

'Goodnight, son. See you tomorrow.'

'Goodnight, Father. Sleep well.'

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January 26th, 1928 9:25 pm

I see John has mentioned Will started sleepwalking. I know it's a fairly common thing for children Will's age, but it still frightens me. I was talking to Honoria Jessup today. She has five children and three of them walked in their sleep for a time she said. They eventually grew out of it. It does make me nervous though. If John and Caleb hadn't installed that gate on the stairs today, I can promise you I'd be sleeping in Will's bed tonight with a string tied to each of our wrists.

I came upstairs early tonight. The girls are teething and it's making them a bit cranky. Poor loves, but who can blame them. Tomorrow marks their six month birthday. They're growing like weeds, and they're so aware of everything now. It's sweet when Will plays peek-a-boo with them. They'll squeal and babble and I know they're saying something meaningful but I can't figure out what. John swears Finn said Da-da the other day, but I think that might be wishful thinking. Thankfully they seem to love their granddad too. I was a little worried about that. He does speak loudly sometimes, at least louder than John and I do, and that beard of his might put them off too. They'd never seen a beard before. Not to worry. Their little hands went straight for it, tangling their baby fingers in it and pulling. I know John thinks Eamon trimmed it at his suggestion, but truthfully, I think he did it because of the girls.

Mrs Patmore and Mrs Carson are joining Daisy, Sarah and I for tea tomorrow afternoon. I'm anxious to hear how Mrs P is getting on with Mr Mason. He's such a sweet man. John has promised to watch the children. And speaking of John, I hear him coming up the stairs now, so I'll end here.

~Anna Bates

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Sleepless Nights - part3

'Fee didn't want to sleep tonight, cheeky monkey,' Anna whispered as she watched over the girls as they slept. I think it's those pesky teeth giving her grief. If you rub her bottom gum you can feel it.

'I just had the oddest conversation with my Father,' John said thoughtfully, as he sat up against the headboard, his face clean and his hair still damp and smelling of soap. Anna's words hadn't reached his ears.

'What was it? You didn't start bringing the bitter past back, did you? John.' Anna shot him a look as she walked to their bed, ready to join him.

'No, quite the opposite. We were talking about good times...we did have some...but, it was something else. I asked him if he was sleeping well.'

'And he isn't?' Anna frowned worriedly.

'No, he is, but...he's been feeling odd. Feels shivers and like he's being watched, as he says. His name being called and hears someone walking in the hallways and going up and down the steps.'

'Oh goodness me! You don't say?' she crawled under the sheets, scooting up beside him.

'That's what he said.'

'You think it's haunted?'

'What is? The hotel?'

'Yes, the hotel!'

'Anna...of course it's not,' he shook his head. 'I was wondering if he was, you know, if his old age is getting the better of his brain.'

'Oh no, John Bates, don't you dare.' Anna spoke as she leaned her head against his shoulder. 'Your father is as sane as you are! He's not going mad.'

'Well, what's the difference between going mad and thinking the hotel is haunted?' he chuckled.

'Are you calling me mad?' She sat up again, looking deeply into his eyes before smacking him across the chest.

'Love, of course I'm not but…'

'But what? I believe in those things, and you know it.'

'I think those things are silly, you know it too. But I don't think you are mad, not one bit.'

'Well then?' Anna folded her arms waiting for his answer, at that he had to swallow hard and think of a way to escape. Anna could be dangerous if he wasn't careful with his words. The last thing he wanted now was to end up sleeping on the sofa.

'Well then,' he shifted slowly toward her, one of his hands came to her cheek to pull her to him. 'Come here you.' What better diversion than that of a kiss and a seductive touch? After all, she used this tactic against him all the time.

'Don't you ever think of anything else?' Anna rolled her eyes, but he could see by the suppressed smile on her lips. It was working.

'Ha! How can I think about anything else when I have this treat in my bed.' He continued his seduction and the way she looked at him told him she was enjoying it.

'John Bates...you silly goose.' She gave in then, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling.

'I love you,' he said, looking deeply into her eyes. His expression a teasing one. There was always a good outcome to a look like that.

'You are so lucky I love you too,' she told him before pulling him into a kiss, one of those that always made him beg for more. Ghosts be damned for this night. They had better things to do.

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