The last chapter. Ties things up nicely. Thanks to all those who stuck with this story. I am planning to try my hand at a modern Bates/Anna fiction. I have a few idea floatin around, one involving Mary and Matthew aswell. Watch this space.

As always, Bates in normal font, Anna in italics.

r- Nothing belongs to me, all characters belong to Julian Fellowes.

Then it happened.

It was a few days after Michael's wedding. I was sitting in the living room, playing with Christopher whilst John, who had a managed to get the fortnight surrounding Michael's nuptials off from the pub, was in the garden.

A knock in the door interrupted a truly wonderful game of tickling, Christopher laughing as I had never seen him do before. Getting to my feet, I was shocked to see my father standing on the doorstep. Under his hat, his face was tear stained, his whole appearance was a shade of grey.

'Papa?' I whispered, although in the back of my mind I knew what had happened.

'My Darling,' he gasped, taking hold of my hand. 'She's gone.'

'I would have organised a telegram, I just had things to sort out at the house and I had to be with her.' Papa explained. 'You know, until she was taken.'

Tears had overtaken me on the doorstep before Papa had taken me under his arm and lead me to the front room where a gurgling Christopher lay. We were now sitting on the sofa, he holding his grandson on his knee as I tried to take the news in.

'Where's John?' Papa asks then.

'Oh, John,' I exclaim standing up and looking outside to see him in the garden but finding it empty. 'He was gardening.'

'Anna, I might pop out and...' John stops talking when he sees my father and stops in the doorway to the living room. 'Oh, hello Oliver.'

'John,' Papa replies with a nod of the head.

John is looking at me, the despair in my face must be showing as he frowns a little. Suddenly, a look of realisation comes over his face as he moves towards me.

'I'm so sorry.' John sighed as he pulled me into my embrace. 'And you Oliver. You have my sincerest condolences.'

'Thank you,' Papa said weakly.

'Was it peaceful?' I uttered as I pulled away from John.

Papa looked at Christopher as he spoke. 'She was talking about you and Michael a lot last night. Talking like you were still little. She was telling me you mustn't be late for your riding lesson, and that Michael's Latin tutor should be more strict with him.' Papa began to chuckle. 'Then she just faded in and out of consciousness. Until a few minutes before the end. I held her hand in mine. She was looking me straight in the eye. And smiling. She began to talk like she was living in the present day again.' Papa broke down then, bowing his head as Christopher was drifting to sleep in his arms. 'She told me she loved me. And her children and how she wished they could be near her. And how she couldn't have wished for better people for our children than John and Natalie. Then she said the most bizarre thing. I can't imagine why she was thinking about this particular thing at that time.'

'What was that, Papa?' I asked, sitting beside him on the sofa.

'She mentioned the house we own. In the village. Grantham Place.'

'Yes, Uncle James lived there until he and his family moved to Scotland.' I replied, remembering the property in question. 'I naturally assumed Michael and Natalie would move there when they returned from honeymoon.'

Papa shook his head. 'That's what makes it so strange. Michael and Natalie will be living in Ripon when they return, her father owns a string of properties across Yorkshire and offered them one.' Papa began to laugh again. 'Proof yet again that Smith men are easily under the thumb. Anyway, your Mama told me that one of the bedrooms would make a lovely nursery.'

'That is strange.' I agree before looking up at John who was staring at Papa intently, arms folded.

'I have been thinking about it all morning, you see,' Papa continued. 'And it suddenly began to make sense. She wished her children were nearer her. One of the rooms would make a wonderful nursery. Then I instantly thought of you. And Christopher. And it all fell into place.'

John moved to the armchair beside Papa and sat down. 'What fell into place, exactly?'

'That the two of you should move into Grantham Place.' Papa replied. 'We own it. You would both want for nothing. John, you wouldn't have to be a barman any longer. You would be near me and Downton, just like your Mama wanted.'

Silence fell across the room as we contemplated what Papa was offering. He bowed down and kissed Christopher on the forehead before passing him over to me.

'I know it's a lot to take in after the actual reason for my visit,' Papa began as he carefully extricated his arm from underneath Christopher. 'We have been expecting this day but still it doesn't make it any easier when it arrives. We all need time to grieve.' He stood then, John rising as well. 'I know we probably won't feel much like eating, but I'd be delighted if the three of you would join me for luncheon tomorrow.'

'Of course, Papa,' I replied, following the two of them to the front door, Christopher still in my arms. 'Until then.'

We went for luncheon the next day at Downton. The house was, as to be expected, in deep mourning for the Lady of the house. Not much was eaten, the situation and reasoning behind our meeting meaning food wasn't high in our priorities. Oliver was serious about us moving into Grantham Place, in the centre of the village. Whilst in his company, I couldn't really gauge Anna's feelings on her father's suggestion. She seemed keen. Whether this was to save face, I don't know.

My opinions on the matter I kept to myself. For the time being anyway. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful to Oliver. I fully intended to keep my promise to Victoria and be a confidant to him. It was just that our cottage in Kirbymoorside was ours. Just mine and Anna's. We had carved this little piece of heaven for ourselves and Christopher. Moving back to Downton would change everything, especially Grantham Place. Servants would be required, Anna wouldn't be able to keep on top of the upkeep of the place herself.

And what about my job? Oliver had said in no uncertain terms I wouldn't need to remain at the pub. But I wanted to. Many arguments I had had with Anna over the subject. I was a working man. It was who I was. If I didn't work, be made to feel useful, it would break my heart.

It was arranged that the funeral would be Friday, and Oliver had requested we give him our decision then. Myself and Anna had some tough talking to do. I was reluctant to have this sort of conversation with her, especially at this time in her life but things needed to be said.

Thursday evening arrived and myself and John still hadn't really spoken about Papa's proposal. I knew him. He didn't want to move back to Downton. He was happy where we were. And so was I. But with Mama's passing, I was realising how much my parents meant to me. She was never coming back, but Papa was still here. Still a relatively young man. Trying to visit him from Kirbymoorside would involve two buses or the services of a chauffeur. Living in the village would mean Papa was a short walk away. I wanted that. The security of him being a stroll away. Especially seeing as Michael would be in York.

Walking downstairs after settling Christopher for the night, I saw John in his armchair, reading. He turned to see me, a smile spreading across his lips. 'Is he off?'

I nod as I sit on the sofa beside his chair. He watched my every move as he closes his book and places it on the arm beside him. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together. 'Anna...'

'We need to talk about Papa's offer,' I finish his sentence. He stills his hands.

'Yes,' he nods with a slight smirk. 'How do you feel about it?'

'Honestly?' I respond.

'I would hope you were always honest with me, Anna.'

I breathe in deeply as I consider what to say next. 'I want to be closer to Papa, John. I want to move back to Downton.' He nods at my admission, like he was expecting it. I push for his views on the subject. 'How do you feel about it?'

He locks his gaze with mine then. 'You know causing friction between us is the last thing I want. Especially with what tomorrow is going to bring.'

'But you want to stay here?' I interrupt. He simply nods once again.

'I know this cottage has come to symbolise what we have built together. But can I ask why you won't move back to Downton?'

Letting out a sigh, he comes to sit beside me on the sofa. 'It's not the cottage. When it comes down to it, it's just a building. It means nothing to me like Downton does to your family. It's the fact of your father wanting me to give up the pub.'

'The estate would pay for the upkeep of the house, John,' I explain. 'In the end, we needed the money your job brings for this place.'

'But it's not about the money.' John almost shouted, standing up in frustration. 'You knew the main reasons behind finding myself a job was to uphold my self worth.'

'We are never going to agree on this are we?' I replied, resting my head in my hands.

John's demeanour softened then as he walked back towards me. He knelt in front of me. Taking hold of my hands, he kissed them softly, running something over in his mind before speaking. 'I'm sorry. I'm putting myself first when your happiness means so much more to me. Lets go. Back to Downton.'

'Do you mean it?' I reply, tears now escaping me as his words sink in. 'What about the job?'

'Charlie will fully understand. I have time to work on your father, get him to relent to my having an occupation.'

'Thank you,' I gasp, bringing his hands to my lips and kissing them. 'I love you so much.'

Arriving at the church, I stood back with Christopher as Anna approached her father and brother. It was good to see Michael there. He and his new wife had cut their honeymooning short to come home. Holding Christopher, I looked on as their father and his children grieved the loss of their wife and mother together for the first time. It was heartbreaking. She had been their rock, their cornerstone. Gathered outside the church as this scene unfolded, her coffin beside them, Natalie gravitated towards me.

'Hello John,' she whispered as she reached myself and Christopher. 'Such a sad day.'

'It is that,' I agreed.

'How is the little chap?' She asked, peeking inside the blanket that Christopher was enveloped in.

'He's wonderful,' I replied. 'One of the best things to ever happen to me.'

'I bet,' Natalie smiled. 'As Michael is to me. It's been such a hard time for him. For all of them.'

'Yes,' I nodded before letting out a sigh. 'I'd do anything to change this for Anna. For all of them.'

The reverend appeared, gesturing that he was ready to begin. Anna walked towards me then, her face grief stricken. Oliver and Michael were pall bearers, along with Anna's cousins and, at Mama's request, Mr Carson. Asking Natalie if she would take Christopher, she obliged as Anna reached us. Holding my arms out for her, she collapsed into them as Victoria began her final journey. Natalie walked in ahead with Christopher in her arms as I helped Anna inside.

The ceremony was a fitting tribute to my Mama. We laughed, we cried but most of all we remembered a wonderful woman. Papa read the eulogy, a beautiful speech about the woman he deemed his one true love. John was a tower of strength. I couldn't have asked for more. It's in times like these that we realise who we can depend on, we realise who matters. And that was John for me. Along with Christopher, he was my whole world.

Back at the house, Papa was saying goodbye to the last of the guests to leave before asking us all, Michael and Natalie included to wait in his library. I knew it was to speak about his proposal. John perused the bookshelves as the rest of us sat down.

'He's asked you to move into Grantham Place?' Michael asked as one of the footmen served us some tea.

'Yes,' I replied, looking at Christopher who was asleep in his carriage beside me. 'Mama's idea apparently. Now you both will be in York.'

Papa entered the room then, patting John on the shoulder as he walked past. 'I am glad you are all here.'

'Of course we are here, Papa,' Michael replied, standing to greet our father.

He nodded as he acknowledged my brothers words. Walking to his desk, he stopped to look out of the window. He began to speak. 'Anna, John, Have you considered my offer?'

'Yes Oliver,' John began. 'We have decided that..'

Suddenly, I realised what John up for me. I loved him too much to ask him to do it. I had to do something.

'We'll only move here if John can keep his job,' I interrupted. John looked at me dumbstruck as Papa turned to face me.

'At the pub?' Papa said weakly before turning his attentions to John.

'That isn't what we agreed,' John said, narrowing his gaze at me, a frown on his brow.

'John needs to feel useful,' I explained. 'It's important for him to work.'

'Yes, I understand that. I claim to know John better than many,' Papa replied. 'You see, John, I intended to involve you on the running of the estate.'

'Running Downton?' John said, the puzzled look on his face now in the direction of my father.

'Yes,' Michael said, now revealing he knew more than he let on. 'Now I'll be in York, I have a job with Natalie's father in property development. I won't have time to help out here.'

I couldn't believe my ears. Papa wanted my husband to help out in the running of the estate he held so dear and that I loved so much. The man only a few months ago he wished to never see again. John's eyes met mine. I was relieved to see him smile.

'How about it, John?' Papa asked. 'How would you like to be Estate Manager here at Downton?'

'It's totally unexpected but I'd like it very much, Oliver.' John answered. 'Very much indeed.'

'Michael will stick around a bit longer to show you the ropes,' Papa began as he walked towards John. 'But I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time.'

'Thank you, sir,' John said as he shook Papa's hand. He looked at me. 'Is that alright with you?'

'More than alright,' I smiled. 'It's perfect.'

2 Years Later

The doorbell rang. I answered the door myself. Insisting on having limited staff when we initially moved in to Grantham Place, we only required a cook and a maid, Anna insisting on Eleanor who also acted as her Ladies Maid. Christopher followed me, the events of the day causing him to act a little nervously.

'Hello John.' It was Oliver. He turned his attentions to Christopher. 'And hello chap.'

Christopher held his arms up to this familiar face. Oliver obliged, lifting his grandson into his arms as I closed the front door behind them. Walking through to the living room, I rang the bell for Eleanor. She appeared quickly.

'Yes Mr Bates,' she said shyly, clearly daunted by Oliver's presence. It didn't feel right for the staff to call me sir. Mr Bates would suffice.

'Yes Eleanor, could we have some tea please?' I replied with a smile.

'How is Anna?' Oliver called after Eleanor as she left the room. She returned.

'She's fine, My Lord,' Eleanor said sweetly. 'The nurse is with the baby at the moment, checking her over whilst Lady Anna sleeps.'

Oliver nodded and smiled as Eleanor made her exit. 'So it all went well?'

'Yes, thank Goodness.' I replied as Christopher scrambled on the chair behind me. 'This one slept through it all. I wasn't so lucky. The baby is beautiful. Well, look at her mother. Did we expect anything less?'

'No, I suppose not,' Oliver laughed as he leant back in his chair. 'How did Christopher take to his sister?'

'He didn't really understand,' I replied, looking at him behind me. 'Just wanted a cuddle with his Mummy.'

'Bless him,' Oliver smiled before his face turned serious. 'Now, I don't want you coming back to work any sooner than a week.'

'No sir,' I sighed.

'Because Anna will need you here. And Christopher will need you too. I remember when Anna was born. I couldn't do enough for Victoria or Michael. It's in these times when you realise how much people depend on you.'

'Mr Bates,' the nurse said as she appeared at the door. 'Anna is asking to see you all. She is awake and heard your voices.'

'Brilliant,' Oliver beamed, standing up. I did so too, taking my son into my arms.

'Will you let Eleanor know we will have the tea when we return?' I asked the maid as I followed Oliver.

Holding my daughter in my arms, I smiled as she gave a little sigh. She was so small, so precious. I was immediately thinking of when I held Christopher for the first time. How I was feeling then was different to now. I was scared, uncertain of what lay ahead. Now I knew and I couldn't wait to watch her grow. Hearing footsteps from the hall, I looked up at the door when it was knocked upon.

'Come in,' I said, although not too loudly as to disturb the baby.

The door carefully opened to reveal my Papa, smiling proudly as he approached the bed. John and Christopher appeared after him, Christopher clinging on tightly to his father.

'My darling,' Papa exclaimed, reaching down and kissing me on the head. 'How are you?'

'Tired,' I replied before smiling at John. 'But so happy.'

'Good,' Papa said as he sat beside me. He peered closely at the baby in my arms. 'She's beautiful.'

'Just like her Mummy,' John interrupted before affording me one of his most beautiful smiles.

'Would you like to hold your granddaughter?' I asked Papa who was now stroking the soft black hair on her head.

'Can I?' he asked.

'Of course,' I said, shifting from my position to pass her carefully to Papa. John put Christopher on the bed then. He instantly clambered into my arms and I pulled him into my embrace. John sat on the opposite side of the bed from Papa and took my hand in his. 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' he said softly, squeezing my hand.

'Hello little darling,' Papa cooed, kissing her gently on the head.

'Papa, meet your Granddaughter. Victoria...'