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Audrey was well used to his moods by now. Nearly ten years living in the same house, spending countless hours of the day in close proximity to them and, more often than not, being barraged with the reasoning for the chaotic pendulum-motion of said moods had led Audrey Hall to consider herself somewhat of an expert in the emotional range of one Siegfried Farnon.
That is, until today.
It was not uncommon, especially in these busy Spring days of lambing, for him to be a little more irascible and sharp than usual when he was feeling the pressure of his “duty” to tend to all the creatures great and small in Darrowby, rushed off of his feet with the attempt to fulfil such an obligation on his own. But today his foul mood really was excessive.
It had not started well, that she would concede; he had been out until the wee hours helping a ewe in distress which, from the short, low voiced account he’d given her when he got in, had not ended well for the lamb, poor thing (and this had seemingly not been helped by the thought he’d kept her up half the night waiting for him, daft creature that he was, because she always would wait up for him). Then he had to be up early to go back and check on the ewe and as he had stumbled into the kitchen, still half-exhausted and without much thought of looking where he was going, he had nearly ploughed through poor Dash, who was cheerfully waiting for him in the door way. The colourful expletive he had let out in response had made Audrey’s eyebrow raise but she had opted to wisely stay silent and just continue going about putting him a quick breakfast together instead of pulling him up on it.
He had then not been able to get back for lunch as he had an already long list even if the ewe from last night was not in bad shape and so, when he had eventually returned not long before dinner, he had been overly hungry and that never made for a cheerful Siegfried on a normal day. Audrey had braced herself for sudden, loud exclamations of not knowing where his “Blasted pipe!” was or “For pity’s sake, why does nothing ever work properly?” when the wireless only played static instead of broadcasting the evening headlines on first being switched on. All of this she was more than prepared for and, secretly, was even looking forward to hearing if only because she would be afforded the opportunity to try and fix something for him, make his day a little better. What she had not prepared to encounter instead was silence.
Of course, it was not the kind of easy, companionable silence which they often times luxuriated in of an evening when the Herriots were ensconced upstairs, or up at Heston Grange, and Tristan was in Doncaster. No, this was a tense silence. A silence which almost dared one to brake it but with the unsaid knowledge that, if one did, they would likely never wish to utter a word again afterwards. This was most uncomfortable and inconvenient, not least because Audrey did not like feeling so wary around her longtime friend and employer, or that she could not speak in her own home, but also because she needed to tell him something.
He had been so busy and in-and-out of Skeldale over the last few days that she had barely had time to ask him if he wished for a cup of tea, let alone inform him of her own day-to-day movements. The idea of telling him Mr Bosworth had asked her to undertake an extra task, in addition to her usual rounds of the village for this week, was not one she relished anyway given his animosity towards the man for having apparently “monopolised” her time. Now, she was practically dreading it.
They ate in oppressive silence for several minutes before Audrey dared to test the waters and clear her throat. Siegfried sighed as he looked up at her but she saw from the way his eyes softened that this was not from irritation but rather a non-verbal acknowledgment and apology, she supposed, for having ignored her until now. He still did not say anything.
Audrey took in a deep breath and decided she would just have to say it and let the cards fall as they may. She grimaced at the thought.
“I- I meant to say that tomorrow afternoon, Mr Bosworth has asked me to give a talk with him at the school about the importance of the blackout.” She paused to assess how he was taking the news so far. Siegfried was looking down at his plate but nodding along so she knew he was listening and so she continued, “I’m only telling you because the children eat at twelve and we’ll be giving the talk at one, which is when we normally have lunch here… and so I won’t be here… but I’ll make you a quiche and leave it in the oven for you so you won’t have to fend for yourself completely.”
Her courage had left her by the time she finished so that she was now the one staring down at her plate talking at a speed which was not her usual and in a far higher pitch because of this. She felt an immense relief once she had finally finished and allowed herself a brief moment to take another deep breath before making eye contact with Siegfried again.
She almost laughed when she did. In hindsight, it was a very good thing she had not, for it would have likely set off a chain of explosions which the munitions experts in the war offices would have admired. At first, he was seemingly calm and only blinked at her owlishly, mechanically chewing his last bite of the sausages she had cooked for them. Audrey did not know exactly what she was waiting for in terms of his reaction, probably an outraged “Who does he think he is, roping you in to what is clearly only a one-man job?”
Instead all she got was a badly restrained, “I’m sorry?”
She was deliberating whether to repeat herself or not, when the answer came that she did not need to, in the form of a classic Siegfried Farnon tirade.
“So you mean to tell me that not only do I have to make my peace with your being missing at dinner three evenings this week but that, in addition to the two afternoons with the Women’s Institute, I must also do without you for lunchtime tomorrow and I’m only hearing about this now? I assume he took it upon himself to just drop round this morning and ask on a whim?” He had drawn himself up to his full height as he stood from the table in his frustration and began to pace back and forth in front of her with his hands on his hips.
Audrey did not know whether to be flattered that he had kept such a good record of her schedule for the week in light of the chaos of his own, or whether to be frustrated herself with the fact he was acting like it was an absolute impossibility for him to plate up a meal and eat it alone.
“Well I only didn’t tell you because you haven’t been home for more than five minutes the whole week! Which is to say that, no, he didn’t just ‘drop round’ this morning and tell me, he asked me on Monday morning,” She stood up now as well and folded her arms across her chest with the intent of showing him that she would not stand for his bullishness where it was not warranted. “I’m sorry that I’m only telling you now, I was going to last night but then you were called out to that ewe and it slipped my mind. I’ll do better to give you more warning next time, if there is one.”
All of the fight that she had briefly had suddenly left her when she really studied him, now that he had stopped pacing and stood still before her. They had both been moving at a mile a minute recently, and so Audrey had not had time to take stock of Siegfried as she normally would but looking at him in this moment, she could see that he was not only physically exhausted but mentally exhausted too. Even with James’s help, and the intermittent presence of Tristan, the workload of the practice, emergency medicine and the lambing season had been a massive test on his endurance and some days it was harder to hold up against than others. Today was one of them, and this was evident by the fact that he was clearly too tired to even be frustrated now. As she looked at him and really took in the dark circles beginning to form under his eyes, the sagging of his shoulders and the far-off point at which he seemed to be gazing, Audrey felt her heart constrict slightly as she registered that his appearance was almost reminiscent of how he had looked when she first met him, floundering at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, in an attempt to hide from grieving for his late wife.
The thought that the stresses of life - the ever present knowledge of war and a demanding period of work which he was he struggling to keep up with - were potentially leading him back to a similar state of being emotionally overwrought, and that she was adding to it by being unavailable to him, formed a lump of guilt in the base of Audrey’s throat the likes of which she had not experienced since that awful day she had handed in her notice. He had been worried then that he had taken her and her place in his life for granted, and she had nearly revealed much more than she ever intended to in her effort to reassure him that that was not the case, but now a small voice suggested that maybe it was the other way around.
Although not strictly covered in the — admittedly vague — job description which he had posted in the regional papers all those years ago, Audrey had never minded the additional duties of acting as a quasi-receptionist for the practice, constantly finding his misplaced personal effects, and maintaining smooth relations with his customer base when his characteristic grumpiness might have driven them away, as well as cooking and cleaning and organising every day as she expected to do as his housekeeper: it gave her a sense of purpose, of doing something more and helping him to serve their wider community. But, in more recent years, as his partnership with James had blossomed and Tristan had stepped up to become a valuable member of the veterinary team as well, he had not needed her so much in that part of his life and if she was being honest, she had started to wish for her own purpose, based on her own interests. So, when the war had started in earnest and the Women’s Institute had provided more and more opportunities to be helpful, and of course when the Warden job had come along, Audrey had dived in head first thinking now was her time to find a new way of serving Darrowby. Until now, she had simply been grateful that Siegfried had been so supportive of her ventures in the community but she now questioned if maybe she had missed something.
“Mr Farnon,” She sighed. She did not particularly know how to say what she thought she must ask him, whether that was because she was afraid of what the answer might be, or because they had previously proven that they were not very good at talking about their relationship (as friends, employer and employee, or as whatever the appropriate term was for their being a mix of the two) she would not admit even to herself. What she did not want to do though was overthink it because making a mountain out of a mole hill would not do them or the situation any good. “I hope you’d tell me, if you thought I weren’t carrying out my duties properly. I want you to know I haven’t forgotten that I’m Skeldale’s housekeeper first and foremost. I take great pride in what I do here… I just want to be helpful in other ways as well. But if you’re unsatisfied with my work, or unhappy that I’m not focused on it well… then I’ll make some changes… my loyalty is to you.”
Despite his previous praise of her as a stalwart, Audrey nearly had to choke back a sob on her last word and she was glad that he appeared just as affected by her words, if only because it might mean he would not question her emotionality. They stood, for a while, refusing to look at one another on the opposite sides of the table in a heavy silence as they both did their best to compose themselves. Audrey was just thinking that she would save them from having to discuss the matter any more tonight, and save herself from the awkwardness by hiding in the kitchen and doing the dishes but then, so softly she almost could not hear him, Siegfried started to speak.
“Mrs Hall,” he started, “I hope that you know that I could never — would never — be unhappy or unsatisfied with your work here. It is, has been, and always will be impeccable, and what is more I find your ability to be so unimpeachably productive here, and in the village, nothing short of remarkable. Of course you should not discontinue your work in and around the village; not only because I do not think Darrowby could survive now without your efforts, but also because you would not be yourself if you did not try and help everyone who you thought needed it. Even if that number does encompass the population of a country village which is in the hundreds.”
Audrey gathered up the courage to meet his eyes and gave him a small smile in recognition of his attempt at levity, and to brighten the briefly tense atmosphere that had surrounded them. However, while he might not be put out by the idea of her engaging with their wider community as part of the war effort, and her personal wish to be useful, there was clearly still something about her being so busy that bothered him, and she did not believe that that was solely to do with his dislike of Mr Bosworth.
“Thank you, for saying that, it means a great deal.” She held his gaze with her own for a few moments after she said this so that he might see just how much she meant it, before she carried on, “But I am sorry that I kept tomorrow afternoon from you and then sprung it on you just now, I truly didn’t mean to, and although I know you think he takes advantage of me, Mr Bosworth were as considerate as he could be when he asked me to help him at the beginning of the week. In truth, I think he were scared of talking to the little ‘uns on his own in case they asked any questions he didn’t want to, or know, how to answer. You know what children are like, always asking “why?” after every sentence. But I don’t think you were really angry with him, were you? And if you aren’t angry with me, then I don’t know what is wrong or how to help the situation, and you know I don’t believe in lost causes or the impossible. So why don’t you just tell me what this is all about?”
Siegfried cracked his own smile at this because never had a truer word been spoken. He was proof of these words, after all. When she had started at Skeldale, he had been a textbook case of a lost cause with no will to live (save for the fact that Tristan had still needed him) and no idea how to reenter the land of the living, in conjunction with the fact that he possessed a nature so abrasive that all attempts to help him to do so on the part of his previous short-lived housekeepers had been deemed “impossible,” as Audrey had just said. Slowly but surely though she had cleared away and organised the chaos around him and, with the magic that was her personality, she had coaxed him out of his haze of misery so that he was no longer just a miserable vet going through the motions of life but a whole man, with a slowly mending heart, able to face the idea of living his life again and focusing on the not-so-little brother who glued them together in the early days and later, would become an admirable young man who did them both credit. She had even added to his family, the wonderful woman. No, Audrey Hall had not looked at Siegfried Farnon as impossible, rather she had seen him as very possible, with a chance for them to help one another out of their woe in the form of his job offer.
He did not like thinking back to those early days of their acquaintance if he could help it. Mostly because looking back meant revisiting a time when his loss and grief had been so raw and although dormant now, still lived in him, able to reawaken at a moment’s notice. But he also must admit that when he looked at Audrey now, and compared her with the woman he met nearly a decade ago, the pain which she had tried to conceal in deference to his own and the fact that they were strangers, was actually quite palpable, and for reasons that were becoming increasingly clear to him he could not bear even the thought of her pain so well as he might have hoped. However, in his more confident moments, he would concede that they had in fact been vital in helping one another in those days. Just as he had needed someone to swoop in and make order out of the shrapnel of his life, she had needed the opportunity to put a life back together in lieu of no longer having the major pieces of her own life to pick up. They had been equal in their need for each other then but now, when the major healing work was over and they were looking outwardly on their lives again, she did not seem to need him as much any more. Clearly she believed she needed him enough that she had not left for the Lakes in the autumn before last, thank god, but she had *nearly* done so, had she not? What was to say that she would not feel ready to do so at the next opportunity? She may not need him in the same way these days, but surely she could see that he still needed her? No he was no longer the despairing widower failing to keep afloat in the warring tides of his grief, work, duty of care for his younger brother and the daily necessities of keeping them both fed, watered and clothed, but his life just fundamentally was not the same without her.
His home, certainly, was not. She may not have physically changed anything about Skeldale in the time since she had taken over the running of it (aside from banishing the dust which had accumulated at an alarming rate in the months prior to her arrival, and the considerate, but necessary, rehoming of his piles of loose paperwork which had teetered precariously across almost every available surface) but Audrey Hall was the very heart of Siegfried Farnon’s home and the thought of the place without her nearly took his breath away.
All of this seemed to swoop down him in the seconds after she had spoken and the force of it was such that when he replied, Siegfried did so as if he was in a rush to get the words out so that he might not be crushed by the weight of his musings.
“I know things aren't perfect and there's been some issues, alright, and you've kept things from me and I've... I've kept things from you. But I am not unhappy. I am not unsatisfied. You think I'm unhappy and unsatisfied, and I can't convince you that I am not! What I mean to say is... This, right here, is all I will ever need. I never thought in my wildest dreams that it would happen when we met. That you and I, that we would happen to be such good… friends. But we are. I know I am not the easiest man in the world to build a life with, and to share a house with, Mrs Hall - Audrey - but there is no one who will be more here for you than me. I will never leave. I will never think about leaving. We have been through so much. I mean we have... We have watched each other hurt and heal, and avoid the truth and toe that blasted line, or pretend we wanted other people. I mean, there was Diana and Dorothy and Gerald! I nearly had to watch you leave with that man! It was awful. But we... We made it here. We made it through all of that. What I am trying to say, is that you are my dearest friend, my most cherished companion in life, and I suppose that I was — am, I should say — a little jealous that others are getting so much of your time at the moment, when it feels as if I have hardly been afforded a glimpse of you in the last few days. It is selfish, I know, but there it is.”
The sigh that Siegfried released, as he finished his impromptu speech and the sudden burst of panic that had been the catalyst for it dissipated, was not one of relief but instead one of resignation as he silently berated himself for admitting so much of his recent (and not so recent) feelings about his housekeeper, who was clearly so much more than that. He was then drawing in another breath to tell her that he was being silly and to forget all about it — that his ramblings had only been the result of a long, hard week of work which had taxed him physically and emotionally to the extent that it had blown his smaller, more normal feelings of having missed her company over the last few days into something bigger than the situation called for — when he was stopped by Audrey’s peculiar countenance.
He had spoken with such speed that she had not had time to react to any of the particular points he had made, or memories he had recalled, with anything but a baffled silence but now that he was finished, and the intervening moments had allowed for her to digest the monologue as a whole, Siegfried could see her usual stalwart disposition was no match for the task of concealing the warring emotions and sensations she was experiencing. Although her raised brow and crossed arms obviously suggested that she had some, likely burning, questions for him to do with aspects of what he had just said which she did not agree with, the manner in which her warm eyes shined, wide and over-bright, spoke of a secret hope and vulnerability which, upon seeing it, made the vet’s heart begin to beat erratically.
“What have you kept from me?” Lost in her eyes, attempting to assure himself that he was right about the nature of the feelings linked to the obvious vulnerability displayed there, Siegfried was unable to compute Audrey’s question. Could it be possible? Did she feel as he did? Did she want the same things as he did? Siegfried did not feel brave enough to pose these questions and so opted for one that was more simple and which would hopefully pull him back into the correct realm of the conversation they were having.
“What do you mean?”
“You said that we’ve kept things from one another. I want to know what you’ve kept from me?” She stepped forward now, so that there was only half of the length of the forgotten dining table between them, her features rearranged into a look of impatience and challenge.
He had two choices, either Siegfried could lie and tell her he that he had meant to imply that he had kept everyday things from her, equal in importance to the piece of information she had supplied him with at the start of this conversation, or, he could tell her the truth and admit to having loved her, and having been aware of that fact, for a long time now. Neither would be easy routes: the first would be a lie, a practice he had always strived never to utilise in their friendship, and would certainly make him feel like a coward for hiding behind it, and the second would be a risk that might end in disaster for that most precious friendship if it should turn out that she did not in fact feel the same way for him. But she was asking, was she not? She wanted to know exactly what he had kept from her. If she had been worried about what that might be, surely she never would have asked? And then there was that brief look in her eye… No, Siegfried would not lie and run away from this because he needed to know the truth just as much as she did. If he blurted out a lame excuse and claimed it all meant nothing then he would potentially never get to know if he really had seen hope in her eyes a minute ago, and that was a torture he really was not sure he could bare.
So, he took a step forwards intending to reach out and take her hand, a gesture which in more recent months had become less and less of a novelty for them. He hoped her touch would ground him and maybe calm the still wild beating of his heart (it did not). He was pleased to note that, as well as automatically taking up his outstretched hand, Audrey did not step back to reinstate the polite distance of personal space which normally existed between them, and this was the final push Siegfried needed to let out the words he desperately hoped she wanted to hear as much as he wanted to say them.
“I love you. That is what I have kept from you but only because I have been terrified of driving you away. I cannot fathom my life without you, right here, beside me.” As if to punctuate the thought he brought their joined hands up and enclosed his free hand around them, as he kissed her folded knuckles, and finally rested the warm weight against his chest. Siegfried closed his eyes for a moment in contentment at having a part of Audrey so close and a soft smile spread across his face when he opened them again to see her grinning, eyes wide once more and full of happy tears as they locked with his own. She swallowed thickly before attempting to speak but was nearly overcome when she felt the weight of his hand against the bottom of her cheek, poised to intercept the tear which had escaped to spill down towards her jaw line. Finally, she let out a wet chuckle as she finished composing herself.
“Well it’s a good thing that I decided a long while ago that I wouldn’t be leaving then, isn’t it? I love you too, you daft apeth, you can have me as near as you like,” she teased, and stepped further in to his body so that she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
Barely a second passed before they had engulfed each other in an embrace too passionate and inarticulate too describe, arms jostling for position to hold one another closer, tighter, with giddy laughs and hurried breaths taken between successive, imperative kisses. After all, they had to make the most of this night alone before duty called them to separate again for the seemingly interminable daylight hours of tomorrow. However would they cope?