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English
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Published:
2022-01-29
Completed:
2022-01-31
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3,929
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2/2
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The (im)patience of Siegfried Farnon – or – Siegfried tries to find a housekeeper

Summary:

Five times Siegfried failed to find a housekeeper and the one time he managed it.

Chapter 1: Five

Chapter Text

Jess was tangled around his feet when he opened the door. “Good morning, Mrs -” his brain failed to supply the relevant name.

“Mrs White,” the woman at the door said. Her hair was pinned back severely and her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Jess. “I see you have a dog.”

“Yes. This is Jess.” Siegfried bent to scratch her head. “Come in, please.”

Mrs White’s mouth pursed tightly. “Don’t like a dog, myself. If I’m to take this job, the dog will have to go.”

Siegfried stared at her, momentarily nonplussed, then looked down at Jess. Jess leant her head against his thigh.

Mrs – thingy – still hadn’t crossed the threshold. “Good day,” he said, and closed the door in her face.

“Tristan!” Siegfried roared. “Where the bloody hell is my stethoscope?” Tristan’s reply was inaudible. Siegfried stomped down the hall to find not his brother but a timid looking woman in the hallway.

“Excuse me?” he snapped.

“Mrs Jones,” she said, with a quaver. “For the housekeeper post?”

“Yes, yes,” Siegfried waved her off impatiently. “Tristan!” he shouted again.

Tristan appeared, chewing a mouthful of toast. “What?”

“Stethoscope!”

“Maybe in that mess you call a study?” Tristan shrugged.

“Dammit, I’m late already.” With increasingly loud grumblings, Siegfried eventually located his stethoscope. He came back out to an empty hall. “And where has that woman gone?” he demanded of Tristan.

“No idea,” Tristan said. “Hadn’t you better be off?”

Mrs Lane made it as far as the kitchen. “What is this?” she queried, nose turned up, as she gingerly touched a large metal implement that lay on the kitchen table.

“For ringing bulls,” Siegfried explained. “You punch a hole through the cartilage, here, you see,” he indicated on his own nose.

“And what is it doing on the table?”

“I’m a vet, Mrs – Street. My veterinary tools live in the house.”

“On the kitchen table?” she sniffed.

“All over the place,” Tristan said cheerfully.

“My housekeeper will be in charge of looking after the practice and the house.” Siegfried said. “Did the advert not make that clear?”

Mrs Lane sniffed again. “Didn’t say that the practise was in the house. Most unsanitary. Where do your patients wait?”

“In the hall,” Siegfried said, puzzled.

“Not the sort of arrangement I’m used to. I like to keep an ordered house. No dirty great animals traipsing in and out on my clean floors.”

“Well then, I think this is not the position for you. Good day, Mrs Road.”

“Mrs – um! I need some help here!”

Tristan was back at school and Siegfried was swamped with small animals. It seemed that every pet owner in Darrowby had decided that today was the day for an emergency trip to the vet, and on the day he was meeting his new housekeeper too.

Mrs – thingy – appeared in the surgery doorway.

“Hand me the cotton wool, and hold this,” he said, without looking at her.

“I beg your pardon?”

He straightened. “Come on Mrs – uh.”

“I’m a housekeeper, not a veterinary assistant.”

“For god’s sake, can we save the negotiations till this one is sorted?” he nodded at the rabbit on the table.

“And I don’t like that language either.” Mrs wotsername removed her apron and placed it on the chair by the door. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

The phone rang in the middle of Mrs Smith’s first night.

“Darrowby 2297,” Siegfried said, while attempting to do up his shirt. He listened for a moment. “Right, I’m on my way.”

He was tired and filthy when he made it home, late for breakfast. Mrs Smith’s nose wrinkled as he came in the back door.

“Toast,” she said, “Waiting in the dining room for you. Who are you expecting to clean those?”

Siegfried looked down at his mud-encrusted clothes and back up at Mrs Smith. “It’s what I’ll be paying you for.”

“I’ll be asking for more money then. And that phone call disturbed my sleep.”

“I run a veterinary practice,” Siegfried said, with more than a trace of impatience. “This is what it’s like.”

“I don’t care for your tone. Plenty of other jobs out there that don’t involve being disturbed at night and expected to deal with – that.” She grimaced. “I’ll see myself out after breakfast.”

Chapter 2: One

Chapter Text

Siegfried opened the door at the precise moment that the phone rang. “Dammit! Come in, Mrs – um,” he said. “Excuse me a moment.” He dashed for the phone. “Darrowby 2297?” He listened and nodded, then hung up to find Mrs – something-or-other making a fuss of Jess in the hall, a suitcase by her feet.

“Who’s a good girl then,” she said. Jess licked her face and she laughed.

“I have to go out, Mrs -” Siegfried said. “I’ll be back later.”

“Mrs Hall,” the woman replied.

“Right,” Siegfried said vaguely. He grabbed his bag from the study, shoved in his stethoscope and banged the door shut behind him.

Audrey stared at the door as it shut behind the man she assumed was Mr Farnon. The dog barked at her and wagged its tail. “It’s good to meet you,” she told it. “I wonder what your name is.”

There was an empty coat stand by the door. She took off her coat and hat and hung them up. “Well then, you, shall we see what I’ve got myself into?”

The advert had specified that the housekeeper would be expected to look after both house and vet practice. The latter had been underlined, which had made her laugh. With the dog at her side, she investigated the downstairs of the house. Two surgery rooms, one of which also had a desk, strewn with paper and equipment. She shook her head at the state of it. The living room was a good size, light and airy. There was a thin layer of dust over the surfaces.

She made her way down through the house until she reached the kitchen, then stood with her hand on her hips as she surveyed it. Dishes piled over the table, intermingled with paper and what she assumed must be veterinary equipment.

“Good heavens,” she murmured. She looked down at the dog. “Is it always like this?”

The dog barked as if in response and she laughed and stroked its head.

“Well, what do you say girl. Shall we get this sorted out?”

She retrieved her housecoat from her suitcase, pulled it on and rolled up her sleeves. Where to start? Audrey had always enjoyed a challenge and this certainly would be a challenge. She filled the sink and moved the dirty dishes to the side, putting in the worst offenders to soak.

The papers were more complicated. A week’s worth of daily newspapers she stacked neatly on a chair. The scraps of paper, as she read them curiously, were an assortment of appointments and medicine that needed ordering. She separated them into piles, keeping them in chronological order where she could. “He really needs some sort of system,” she murmured to herself.

By the time midday had arrived, the kitchen was in some semblance of order. Pots, pans and dishes were clean and put away. The table had piles of neatly ordered paper. The equipment she’d moved to one end, resisting the urge to see what it all did.

The back door banged open and made her jump. She smelt Mr Farnon before she saw him.

“Those will need washing,” she said, as she took in his filthy state. “Get them off and bring them down here.”

He stared at her as if he’d forgotten her existence. “Right, thank you, Mrs -”

“Mrs Hall,” she supplied. “And I’ll get you on some lunch while you’re busy.” She’d been in the pantry and found plentiful supplies for a cold lunch.

He stared at her again. “Thank you.”

She set the table and when he came back down, neat and smell-free, it was ready for him.

“Hello Jess,” he said, as the dog nuzzled into his thigh. “Have you had a good morning?”

“She’s been keeping me company,” Audrey said, “We’ve been busy, haven’t we Jess?”

Jess woofed at her.

“I can see,” Mr Farnon said, as he stared around the kitchen, belatedly noticing the clean state of it. “My papers – my things, dammit.”

“All here,” Audrey said firmly. “But in slightly better order.”

“Right – well – if you could check with me in the future,” he said, in the tone of a man who wanted to be cross but couldn’t be.

Audrey smiled to herself. “Of course.”

Mr Farnon dug into his lunch. She made them both a cup of tea, and sat down across from him. After a rather unorthodox beginning, she was expecting to hear requests for references, demands about her experience. She clutched her cup tightly.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked her abruptly.

“Well -”

“Get yourself a plate,” he said. “No point standing on ceremony in this house.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. After all, she’d had a long morning and she was hungry. Not as hungry as Mr Farnon though, she thought, as he tucked away more than she would have thought possible for such a slim man.

At last he put down his fork. “Now, about the post. It’s a week trial, full wages and board, to see if you want the position. How does that sound?”

Audrey stared at him. “To see if you want to hire me?” she suggested.

He shrugged. “That too, I suppose. Now, finish up and I’ll give you the tour.”

They’d barely made it out of the kitchen when the phone rang again.

“Dammit!” he shouted as he stalked towards it. Audrey smothered a grin. She liked him already.

“Darrowby 2297… yes… yes.. Pen!” he snapped suddenly.

Audrey glanced around. The telephone stand held a pad of paper, but no pen. She darted into the study and retrieved one, thrusting it into Mr Farnon’s hand as he waved impatiently at her.

He scribbled a number of incomprehensible notes, then hung up. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “Feel free to explore the house. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” And then he was gone again.

 

She wandered back into the kitchen to clear up their lunch. She cleared quickly, put the last clean plate back in place and then set Mr Farnon’s dirty clothes to soak. Nothing about the day so far had been as she’d expected.

“But it’s not bad, is it Jess?” she asked the dog, who had followed her again. “You are a good girl.” She knelt on the floor and laughed as Jess climbed onto her. “Now then, shall we see what it’s like upstairs?

Somehow she wasn’t surprised when the phone rang again as she reached the stairs. She took a deep breath and picked it up. “Darrowby 2297?” The pen was handily still by the paper and she scribbled down notes as the farmer on the other end spoke. “When will Farnon be up?” he asked gruffly as he finished.

“Mr Farnon is on another call at the moment, but I’ll make sure he knows about you as soon as he’s back,” she said politely.

“Humph,” the farmer said, and hung up.

“To you too!” she said, and placed the phone down again. Then she looked up the stairs. “Come on, Jess.”

Upstairs was less cluttered – apparently Mr Farnon confined most of his veterinary equipment downstairs. But the thin layer of dust over all surfaces was apparent here too. She found two bedrooms occupied – one, Mr Farnon’s, she presumed. And another of somebody younger, judging by the title of the novels scattered around. A shelf of Biggles made her shudder. At the end of the landing she found a small room, clearly set up for a housekeeper. She looked around. It was neat and though small, contained all the furniture necessary for a comfortable little living space. “Aye,” she said to herself, “I could live here.”

Back in the kitchen she found cleaning supplies at the back of a cupboard, retrieved a duster and set to work getting the worst of the dust out of the living room. She was hard at work when the door banged. “Mrs – um!”

She tucked the duster into her apron pocket and headed for the hall. “Mrs Hall,” she reminded her potential employer. She watched him throw his coat into the surgery. She retrieved it and hung it up next to hers on the coat stand.

“You had a call,” she informed him.

“Blast it,” he snapped. “Who can that have been.”

“Here,” she said, handing him the notes that she’d made.

“Well – thank you,” he said, taken aback. He read over her notes. “Time for a cup of tea before I go, I think.”

“Coming up,” she said, with a smile.

“I have a busy practice,” he explained as he sipped his tea. “I see small animals, pets mostly, here, and farm animals all over the dales.”

“I like animals,” Audrey said. Jess stuck her nose into her palm and she laughed.

Mr Farnon glanced at the dog, and then at Audrey. “Jess seems to have taken to you. She’s not always a fan of people.”

“Aye, we’ve rubbed along nicely so far, haven’t we Jess?” She patted the dog fondly.

“It’s just the two of us in term time, but my brother lives here in the holidays. He’s just started at university.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shot up. Mr Farnon looked far too old to have a brother at university.

“He was very much an afterthought for my parents,” Mr Farnon said, as though he was reading her mind. “He’s absolutely infuriating. Wasting his talents,” he grumbled.

“Does he help you with the practice?”

“Help?!” Mr Farnon snorted. Then he drained his cup. “I had better get going. There’s nothing in for dinner. There’s a pint mug on the side in the dining room – that’s the petty cash. Go shopping, buy what you like.”

“Anything in particular?” she asked, after a moment of stunned silence.

“No, no. I’m not fussy.” He stood. “Till later Mrs, um, Hall.”

 

The pint pot was where he’d said. It was stuffed with notes and coins. “This man!” she said to herself as she emptied it. Never had she met someone more in need of organisation. She could also hardly believe he was entrusting her with the petty cash, having known her for all of an hour. She took a few shillings and put them in her purse, put on her hat and coat and left to explore Darrowby.

It was a quiet little town; she felt at home straight away. She browsed the shops, picked up a few bits and pieces and wandered back to the house.

She was struck by how comfortable she felt in the house already, after only a few hours. It had taken her much longer to settle in in her previous position, although Edward had been an extra complication there. She blinked rapidly, keeping tears at bay. Her Edward. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now. She spread her purchases over the table, got out a chopping board, and set to work.

 

“Mrs – um! Mrs Hall!” The front door banged shut.

Audrey wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, you’re back,” she said. “How’d it go?”

“All well,” he said. “Dinner?”

“Waiting for you.”

He stared at her in mild astonishment. “Thank you.” He looked around the dining room as he sat down. “It looks – different.” Then he gazed at the table. “Aren’t you joining me?”

Audrey stepped back a pace in confusion. “I thought -” she gestured towards the kitchen.

“There are only two of us in a very large house. We may as well keep each other company.”

Audrey smoothed down her skirt. “Well, then. I’ll be a moment.”

 

Over dinner, he told her more about the practice. He didn’t talk about the woman she’d seen in the photos on the sideboard, and she didn’t ask. There were some things it was just too painful to talk about, she thought, holding Edward tight in her heart. He also continued to be blithely uninterested in her previous experience, for which she was very grateful.

Mr Farnon ate as prodigiously as he had at lunch time. Audrey was thankful she’d bought as much as she had. When he’d finished, he retired to the living room and she headed to the kitchen to finish clearing up. Jess followed her, and woofed at her feet.

“You are a good girl,” Audrey said, when she’d finished, scratching her behind her ears. She yawned. “It’s been a long day Jess. Time for sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She popped her head into the living room before she went upstairs. Mr Farnon was sitting alone, whiskey in hand, staring into space. He looked sad. “Goodnight, Mr Farnon.”

“Goodnight, Mrs Hall.”

 

The phone startled her into wakefulness. She fumbled for her dressing gown, slipped on her slippers and padded quickly downstairs. “Darrowby 2297?”

She listened as the farmer gabbled words she didn’t understand, and she wrote them quickly. “Here,” she said, as Mr Farnon appeared at her side, fumbling with his tie.

Again, he gave that startled look. “Thank you.” She helped him into his coat and waved him off into the dark night.

“I’ll buy a St Nicholas for luck,” she murmured to herself as she closed the door.

 

The house was quiet when she woke. She dressed swiftly and headed for the kitchen. Jess was curled up on her blanket in the corner. “Morning, Jess,” Audrey said. Jess wagged her tail sleepily and closed her eyes again. “It’s like that sometimes,” Audrey agreed.

She had a pot of tea on and eggs boiling when the back door opened and an exhausted Mr Farnon folded himself wearily into a chair.

“Boots,” Audrey snapped, eyeing the muddy trail from the backdoor with distaste.

“Sorry, Mrs Hall,” he sighed. Slowly, he tugged them off and she carried them, at arms length, to the back door.

Then she returned to the teapot. “Here you go,” she said, and pushed a cup of tea at him. “Drink that up, breakfast, and then it’s back to bed with you.”

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “I have a full schedule for surgery this morning. The busy life of a vet, Mrs Hall.”

“Hmm.” She looked him over. “Eat up your eggs, then half an hour nap. You won’t do your animals any good if you fall asleep on them.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He smiled a little, a smile that took years off his age. “Thank you.”

 

The hallway began to fill with animals of all sorts as Mr Farnon had his nap, and she didn’t wonder that his practice was busy. She’d had no idea that such an assortment of creatures could be found in one town. She settled them all down, took their names, wrote up a list that she presented him with as he came downstairs.

“They’re all ready for you. I’m off to do the shop.” She pulled on her hat and coat, smiled at him and left him standing staring after her, list clutched in one hand and mouth dropped open.

 

“You’re still here!” the shopkeeper said in surprise as Audrey pondered what she would make for dinner.

“Yes?” she said.

“Don’t normally last a day in that place. One didn’t even get through the door.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow and turned to look back at the house. “At Skeldale?”

“Aye. Miserable, Mr Farnon is. Mind you, was a terrible business his wife dying so young.”

The sadness on his face last night now made a lot of sense, but Audrey wasn’t about to start gossiping with people about her employer. “Pound of sausages, please,” she said, in a tone that brooked no further discussion.

She gathered up the necessary supplies for the day’s meals, then wandered around the other shops. She found a little St Nicholas, and her eye was caught by a scrabble board. On impulse, she bought it.

The house was still busy with animals when she returned. She passed by the waiting patients, heard Mr Farnon’s deep rumble in the surgery. She smiled at the assortment of people, nodding politely, and headed for her kitchen.

Mr Farnon appeared promptly at twelve, inhaled his food and vanished again, whistling. He seemed surprisingly cheery for a man who’d barely slept.

 

As her first days passed, she noted his moods. When he was busy, he was happy. He was quick to shout, stomping round the house in search of his possessions – but he had never been anything other than polite and gentle to her. In the evenings, he sat quiet, alone, drinking whiskey and staring blankly into space. Her heart hurt for him. Audrey didn’t miss her husband, had taken the monumental step of leaving him precisely because of what an awful person he was. But the pain in her heart when she thought of Edward didn’t make it hard to imagine what losing a loving spouse would do.

On her fourth night in the house, she picked up the scrabble board, took a breath, and headed for the living room.

“Mr Farnon,” she said, poking her head around the doorway. He looked at her in mild surprise. “Would you care for a game of scrabble?”

Jess got up from her nap in front of the fire, cocked her head enquiringly and uttered a soft woof.

Mr Farnon looked at the dog, then at Audrey. “Well, why not,” he said. He drained his glass and stood. “There’s space in the dining room.”

Audrey turned on the lamps and set the board at one end of the table. He sat down opposite her, watched her as she sorted out the letters.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly.

That night, when the phone rang and after she’d closed the door behind him, she put her St Nicholas on the little shelf by the door. She brushed her hand over its feet. “Good luck, Mr Farnon.”

 

She’d settled in so quickly, got used to him so quickly, that it was a surprise when on her seventh night, as they sat across from each other, staring at the scrabble board, he said, “Your trial period is over, Mrs Hall.”

She raised her eyes, met his. “So it is,” she agreed, filled with sudden tension.

“The job is yours, if you want it,” he said quietly. “I – hope you will take it. Life this past week has been – more tolerable – for your presence.” He offered her a tiny smile.

She smiled back. “I’ll take it – on one condition.”

He leant back and raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“That you let me put your possessions into some sort of order. For instance,” she said, as he smiled sheepishly, “that hook in the hall would be an excellent place for your keys to live.”

That morning, he’d stomped around the house for a good ten minutes, shouting and searching for them. She’d eventually found them with his socks, in the laundry basket. How they’d got there, neither of them had had any idea.

“I could be persuaded,” he admitted. He stood and poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to her. She’d never been offered a drink by her previous employer.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Welcome to Skeldale House,” he said, raising his glass. “To our very ordered future.”

“To the future,” she echoed and took a sip.

“Now,” he sat down and stared at the scrabble board with satisfaction, “I do believe I’m beating you.”