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After Christmas the paradigm shifts, just a little, just enough to set him off balance. It’s nothing monumental, no one event signifying a change, but a sense of certainty effuses itself in Skeldale. Siegfried passes each week, with James and Helen planning a wedding and Tristan taking more responsibilities at the practice, with a feeling that things are changing, moving towards something. He’s not entirely sure what it is, but the feeling is there, lingering in his thoughts as each day moves onto the next.
Some things, however, stay the same, a pattern of stability that had been sorely lacking in the months previous. On Sundays there is a roast, on Thursdays there is shortbread and every other Tuesday is the taking of stock that Mrs. Hall assists him with.
It’s during one of their stock taking mornings, when he’s half leaning in the cupboard and half peering down the hallway, that Siegfried notices the way that the light shimmers off Mrs. Hall’s hair whilst she is holding a bottle of what he thinks is morphine that she has found upstairs. It’s nothing really, a seemingly insignificant moment, but in that instant he is thrown back to Christmas, to seeing her in a dress he wasn’t even aware that she owned, let alone expected to see her in.
He remembers just how often Evelyn had wandered down that very same corridor wearing a beautiful dress, how many times he’d stood on that exact spot in the hallway and watched as his wife had smiled at him, before taking his arm and heading off to whatever event they’d been invited to. He’d always been flustered and speechless on each of those occasions too.
Something hits him like a bolt of lightning then, a spark of realisation that Mrs. Hall is a woman, that she is beautiful and that his heart is unsure how to process that particular piece of information. He shoves the thought down, ignores it instead, and tries to carry on as he did before.
Despite his protestations that Diana is merely a friend, that her presence is solely to keep him part of the ever changing social loop that is Darrowby, Siegfried cannot help but notice the sad smile that briefly crosses Audrey’s lips every time that she brings Diana through to the office or lounge.
He wonders if the same gesture is reflected on his own face whenever Mr. Hammond knocks at the kitchen door, Rock at his feet and a smile on his lips as he greets Mrs. Hall for their weekly walk.
Siegfried has taken to shutting himself in his office, or scheduling appointments for that particular time (clockwork as it is) so that he does not have to face the ever growing realisation that Audrey Hall is being courted by an upstanding gentleman, and that there is very little he can do about it.
Eventually, Diana frequents the house less and less as a new beau takes up more and more of her time, and Siegfried is left with his job and the understanding that he is alone once more.
Audrey announces that she is applying for a divorce early in March (Siegfried refuses to think about precisely when she became Audrey in his thoughts.) Siegfried nods as he sits at the kitchen table, a piece of toast in his hand and, he hopes, an understanding look on his face.
“If you need anything, anything at all, just ask.”
He repeats his words from a year ago, means them as much now as he did then, feels a twinge in his chest when she smiles sadly.
“Everything alright Mrs. Hall?”
“Yes, just… sad that it’s the end of things. Stuart were… unkind to me,” (Siegfried bristles, knows the implication of the statement, sees the hurt underlying Audrey’s features) “but he were good to me once. Gave me Edward, put food on the table. It’s strange to finally be able to let him go, let that part of my life be over for good.”
“Planning to move onto something new?” He asks carefully, wary of provoking her, although to anger or tears he’s not quite sure.
She looks at him strangely, frowns a little, but eventually shakes her head.
“Not unless you’re planning on hiring another housekeeper and giving me my marching orders.”
He pretends to look affronted, a hand over his heart in disbelief.
“As if I could Mrs. Hall! No one else…”
“Could put up with you,” she finishes, a bright smile on her face this time. He returns the gesture and continues to eat his toast, happy that the status quo of Skeldale House is safe for now.
It’s a reasonably quiet afternoon in July when the summer rain appears. James and Tristan are up in the Dales, busy with sick sheep and pregnant horses, neither due to arrive back until the early evening at the earliest. He, instead, is on call at the practice, waiting for walk-ins and a few appointments that they’ve scheduled.
Still, Siegfried has managed to timetable an hour off for lunch, a habit he rarely indulges in, but his mind has been a flurry of activity since the morning and a break is certainly what had been required. He taps his pencil absently on the paper across his lap, while his gaze drifts out of the window to the bustling market in the square. He can see people milling around, Helen wandering too and fro with Jenny, picking up produce for dinner most likely, and makes note of the familiar faces moving in and out of view as he tries to settle his mind.
“Stuck?”
Siegfried looks up, spots Audrey at his right, where she’d been Christmas night, when he’d reached for her and held her hand. The moment, though brief, has been running through his mind with more frequency than he’d care to admit.
“Hmm? Oh no, just pondering life,” he mutters, gesturing towards the window before glancing back at the crossword before him.
“Inevitable.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s inevitable; 7 down, ‘certain to happen’… inevitable.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just picks up his empty cup of tea, replaces it with a fresh one and heads back to the kitchen. Siegfried watches her go, tries not to reflect on that small tug in his chest when she leaves the room.
Tristan has been watching the pair of them with more intent recently. Siegfried wonders when his younger brother began to take more notice of his life, and he determines it must have been some time shortly after young Maggie’s wedding. Tristan had been morose for the better part of a week, but had bucked up and seemingly moved on, though his focus was more on Siegfried’s relationship status than his own.
Siegfried shakes his head and watches as Audrey moves through the kitchen, a whirlwind of movement and a certain sense of grace - she is a woman who rules her domain, who knits his family together in a way that he can only aspire to.
Tristan is leaning back in his chair at the table, paper open to the sport section and is giving a running commentary about England’s latest innings against the Australians. Siegfried pays him no mind, having read the article himself aloud to Mrs. Hall while she was hanging up the day’s washing earlier that morning.
His eyes drift over to her now, as she finishes putting away the crockery and attempts to retrieve the flour from the top of the cupboard (it is Thursday, time for shortbread). Siegfried watches as she struggles to reach the bag she needs, muttering to herself about ‘young men who are too tall for their own good’ while trying not to glance at Tristan.
Siegfried smiles and stands, seemingly drawing his brother’s attention. Siegfried ignores him.
“Need some assistance?”
Audrey rolls her eyes, but nods nonetheless. He is not much taller than she, but he reaches up and pulls down the flour with his right hand, while his left rests on the counter, next to Audrey’s. Subconsciously (or maybe not, how is he supposed to know in all honesty?) his left fingers drift over hers, reaches for her warmth for a fraction of a second, as if being this close but this far away was some kind of torture. He passes her the flour, removes his fingers from hers, and holds his breath as her own fingers seem to caress his as she takes the bag from him. Siegfried glances at her, watches her eyes, sees something new in her expression but it’s one he can’t figure out.
There’s a jolt of electricity, a static shock, and Audrey pulls her hand away in an instant, before she coughs and places the bag of flour down on the counter.
“I’ll just fetch some eggs from the chickens, then I’ll get started.”
She disappears down the hall and out into the shed. Siegfried watches her depart, eyes trained on her back as he ignores the tingle in his fingers.
“What was that?”
He’d forgotten entirely that Tristan had been in the room.
“What was what?”
Tristan gestures at him, disbelief written across his face, newspaper crumpled and forgotten on the table.
“That,” he says simply, pointing first to the flour and then to the hallway down which Audrey has disappeared. “Are you… are you two together?” Tristan whispers conspiratorially, wide eyed and confused as if he’s missed something obvious.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Siegfried mutters, glaring at his brother. He knows something has shifted again, that something had changed in the moment she reached out to him but it’s new and different and he has not got the time to analyse whatever it is that’s just happened.
“Go and get on with some bloody work,” he says, annoyance laced in his voice, before he marches off towards the exam room and closes the door behind him.
An hour later he is still playing the incident over in his mind, and there is a moment of realisation, a single second, when it hits him that maybe he wishes things were different.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t thought about it?”
Siegfried refrains from openly growling at his younger brother, just grinds his teeth instead.
“It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.”
“He’s been calling every day for 3 weeks Siegfried, without Rock. You can’t tell me you don’t see the possibility that he’ll…”
“I certainly can’t see Mrs. Hall being swept off her feet to a new life by Mr. Hammond, as lovely and kind to her as he seems to be.”
The statement hangs loose in the air and Siegfried drains his pint in lieu of having nothing else to do. Audrey’s divorce had been finalised the previous month, her bare ring finger the sole reminder that she is now free to see whomever she wishes (even if it isn’t him).
Tristan eyes him curiously, glances at the door where Mrs. Hall and James are entering the Drovers, then back at him.
“Can’t, or won’t Siegfried?” he states simply, and Siegfried is immediately irritated by the insinuation. “She’ll slip away from you if you don’t say something, it’s inevitable.”
Siegfried blusters, turns to square up to his little brother to give him what for, but is placated by a familiar hand on his shoulder.
“Everything okay Mr. Farnon?”
Siegfried sighs, clams, relaxes. “Fine Mrs. Hall, everything is fine.”
He doesn’t miss the frown on Tristan’s face but he ignores it.
By the time Autumn rolls round Siegfried has spent weeks contemplating his feelings, has spent hours in his study feigning work when he is actually attempting to decipher his heart’s true intent. He knows, in a moment of honesty that shocks him, that he wishes he could be truthful to Audrey, wishes he could tell her what she means to him, really means to him, how she had come into his life at his greatest moment of need, in the midst of his grief and bitterness and pain, had persisted and dug her way under his gruff exterior to become someone who, quite frankly, means everything to him.
He loves her.
And yet, Siegfried thinks to himself, as he watches her chat to James and Helen at the end of their wedding day, he finds he cannot take that final step, cannot expose himself to that terrifying prospect that his affections remain solely his, that he is her employer at least and friend at most.
Siegfried offers his hand in a dance, breathes a sigh of relief as her fingers link with his, and tries to make himself content with the knowledge that this moment with her in his arms will have to be enough.
It is late on a Friday evening when another shift takes place. It is a games night, Scrabble again, but there is something off. Siegfried is reluctant to ask questions, but it reaches a point when he knows that Audrey's heart is not in the game.
"Is everything okay Mrs. Hall?"
His voice is tentative, wary. Audrey merely smiles sadly at him, and Siegfried watches as she takes a breath.
"It's Edward's birthday," she finally admits, looking up at him. "I sent a present, and a card, but I've not heard anything back. I just... I wish things were different between us, that he were still my little boy, but I suppose he just doesn't need his mother anymore."
Siegfried has never seen her look so stricken before, not even in the church the Christmas before last when her tears had wrenched at his heart.
He stands then, pushing the Scrabble board away. Audrey looks at him in confusion, and he smiles.
"Come on," Siegfried says by way of reply, "there's no fun in winning if one’s opponent is not enjoying the game."
He leads them into the sitting room and pours them both a whiskey.
Audrey is still quiet and Siegfried sits carefully on the sofa, gesturing for her to take the seat next to him.
"Edward is clearly a stubborn and headstrong man," he starts, without really knowing where he is going. "I sense that he gets some of that from his mother," Siegfried smiles, and holds a hand up when Audrey moves to answer back, "traits that I admire greatly in you Mrs. Hall, believe me."
He smiles again as Audrey merely rolls her eyes and moves to swat him on the arm. The familiarity of the gesture is new, but Siegfried finds he does not mind. His heart has already blurred the line between employer and employee, and he is determined to help a friend and leave the confusion of his feelings for another day.
"He may harbour some resentment for how his choices have affected his life, and he may never understand why you made the choices you did, but I believe he will come round Mrs. Hall. Whether that is this year, or the next, or in the distant future I cannot say, but I feel that he will come to an understanding and find his way home."
There is silence from the woman next to him and Siegfried watches as a tear rolls down her cheek. He fights the urge to wipe it away, and instead pulls his clean handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to her. He hears her take a breath, one of exhaustion it seems, as suddenly her head comes to rest on his shoulder. She does not leave it there for long, as if she realises just what it is she's done, and Siegfried cannot find the words to tell her that his shoulder is available to her whenever she has the need.
"Thank you Mr. Farnon," comes Audrey's quiet voice some minutes later, and Siegfried feels her fingers slowly reach for his own. He takes them without hesitation, his hand holding hers, acting like an anchor for the two of them.
Siegfried stares at the slowly fading flames in the hearth and tries not to notice the warmth coming from the woman beside him instead. The two of them sit in contemplative silence for while, both drinking their whiskey, both refusing to let the other's hand go until the fire has well and truly died.
“Mr. Hammond is here again.”
Siegfried looks up and spots James at the door, coat half on and bag at his feet. He places a scalpel down on the tray to his left and moves towards the door.
“On his own?”
James shakes his head and points down the corridor, where a wagging tail is visible next to the tall form of Gerald Hammond. Beyond him Siegfried can see Audrey, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling, a wide grin Siegfried rarely gets to see.
“He says that Rock has been struggling with his food the last couple of days, not interested in eating but not lethargic,” James continues, oblivious to the sudden flash of something akin to jealousy that sweeps through Siegfried in that moment.
“I see,” he finally utters, as Audrey disappears into the kitchen again and Mr. Hammond wanders towards the exam room.
James bids the two other men farewell, and Siegfried wishes he could swap places with the younger man, wishes he did not feel so irritated by the presence of the other gentleman who has been nothing but pleasant to him in all the conversations and encounters they have had.
What follows is decidedly awkward, as it appears that Mr Hammond is as wary of Siegfried as he is of him. There is a moment when the pair of them appear to want to start a conversation, and Siegfried knows full well what the only topic they have in common is. So, instead, he focuses solely on Rock, on helping the animal in front of him, on doing his job and recommending a bland diet for two days to settle what is likely a sore stomach, and encourages Mr Hammond to ‘please call back if there is no improvement.’
Eventually the other man leaves, and Siegfried leans against the desk, staring at the closed door and wondering if it is too soon for a whiskey.
There is a quiet knock on the door and Audrey peers inside, a puzzled look on her face.
“Has Gerald… Mr. Hammond gone?”
“I’m afraid so,” he replies, ignoring that jolt of something again.
“Oh that’s a shame,” Audrey utters, and steps fully into the room, cup of tea in her hand.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for another time to ply your… gentleman friend… with your delicious tea Mrs. Hall.”
It comes out with more venom that he intends, can see the hurt in her eyes as she glances at the cup and then him.
“Actually,” she says, voice cold and he hates it, “I made this for you.”
She places it on the small table and folds her arms, glaring at him. They stand there, staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only seconds. Siegfried feels more and more out of his depth as the silence continues. Eventually Audrey sighs and then speaks, words precise and full of intent.
“Out with it.”
“Out with what?”
She rolls her eyes, and he knows, knows that things are probably going to be okay.
“Out with whatever it is that has you on edge every time Gerald comes into this house.”
Siegfried stands then, peers at her, rubs his hand over his beard to give him time to think.
“Nothing has me on edge,” he says, fully aware he is lying. He is worried, fears that every time she leaves on a walk with Mr. Hammond that she will never return. “I just… I just want to ensure that Mr. Hammond has honourable intentions. Towards you. For the future.”
He is expecting a reaction, knows that things are coming to a head and that his heart is inevitably going to be shattered, can already envisage the shards breaking and splintering as the one person he thought he could rely seems destined to leave him so soon after he thinks he’s figured it all out.
“You, Siegfried Farnon, are a fool if ever I’ve seen one.”
He doesn’t know what to say, remains silent, waits for an explanation.
“Gerald Hammond has recently met a lovely woman by the name of Mary through the church. He and I are friends, walking companions and that is all,” she emphasises. “My home is here, with Tris and James and you.
Siegfried knows he is looking confused, can feel his eyebrows furrow at his lack of understanding.
Audrey sighs again and unfolds her arms, lets them hang loosely by her side. Her voice this time is soft.
“When you work out the rest, Siegfried, just… just come and let me know.”
She leaves him alone in the office.
It takes him a couple of weeks from that moment to fully comprehend what she had said, what the implication was, what a risk she had taken in that short conversation. It is another Thursday, and the scent of shortbread drifts through the house as he paces back and forth in the hall leading to the kitchen. James and Tristan are out once again, and he is due to join his brother at the manor in little over an hour, but there is something he needs to do, something he needs to say or it will inevitably drive him mad.
“You can come in you know,” he hears Audrey call from the kitchen. “I’ll not have you wear a hole in those slabs with your worrying.”
Siegfried steels himself then, sighs and ploughs forward into the room.
He stops almost as soon as he enters, freezes when he sees her leaning against the table, a look of expectation on her face.
“Finally caught up did you?”
She sounds confident, but he knows her better than that, can see the worry in her eyes. Audrey has always been that mix of bold and shy, a contradiction that he adores.
“I believe so,” he says, taking a small step forward. “I find,” Siegfried starts, before he pauses, swallows, takes a breath. He starts again. “I find I must apologise to you Audrey.”
She looks puzzled, although whether that is due to his words or the use of her name he is unsure.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I would be seriously remiss if I suggested that I had been honest with you these last few months.”
She is silent, clearly awaiting an explanation.
“I should have told you the moment I realised, the moment I knew my feelings towards you had changed. But I found I did not want things in this house, in my life, to be irrecoverably damaged if my affections were not reciprocated and, unfortunately, my stubbornness won out instead of my heart.”
Audrey has a look of understanding on her face, as if she is fully aware of how altered feelings could have changed everything about their relationship in an instant. Siegfried fights back a chuckle because of course Audrey would know; it would seem she shared the same affection that he did - what time he had wasted with his cowardice.
“You sensed it though? That things were different? That there was a… a pull between us that hadn’t been there before?”
He nods.
“I did. But I chose to ignore it, allowed jealousy to get the better of me on occasion and refused to face up to the fact that I might have very well lost you with my refusal to admit how I felt.”
There is another pause, the silence in the kitchen lingering between them.
“And how do you feel?”
Siegfried smiles then, takes another step forward so that he is standing as close as he dare.
“I don’t think I can adequately describe how I feel,” he replies honestly, gazing at her.
“Well,” Audrey says, a smile on her face, “I’ve heard that actions sometimes speak louder than words, maybe you could give that a try?”
He does laugh then, feels giddy and delighted because this is what he has been missing. He had been a fool to think that he had been alone in feeling this, can see the love in her eyes behind the amusement at his unusual lack of words.
“Of course,” he replies then, a mask of seriousness spreading across his features though he knows he is feeling nothing but joy.
He reaches for her hand, tries again to tell her everything at once but becomes tongue tied once more, just like he had when he’d seen her in that dress at Christmas, or when she’d told him that she and Gerald were only friends, that her home was at Skeldale, with himself and the boys.
Her palm is warm against his, and she gently tugs him towards her, encouraging him to take that final step.
Siegfried leans forward, just slightly, just enough to allow Audrey to know his intent.
She meets him half way, her lips pressing softly against his own and Siegfried smiles into the embrace, short as it is. The two of them lean back and share a smile before Siegfried pulls her into a brief hug. She fits against him so well, like she was a missing piece in the puzzle of making him feel whole.
“This feels…” he starts, leaning forward to kiss her again.
“Inevitable?”
“Yes, something like that,” he smiles, and brushes her lips with his own.