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After the murkey and the rest of the Christmas dinner had been eaten — happily by most, and with only a little grumble from Tris for the loss of the opportunity to have a real turkey — Audrey was left in peace to tidy up whilst the others made themselves comfortable in the sitting room. She was lost in her own world, wiping down the countertops, and listening to the slightly muffled argument emanating through the hall (which told her Tris and Helen were having a heated game of cards), when suddenly Siegfried appeared in the kitchen doorway. He stood with his hands in his pockets, and a slight crease in between his brows, which suggested he was unsure about something. Audrey was sure she’d soon find out what it was. She didn’t stop what she was doing, however, didn’t probe him into talking. When it was something serious, or earnest, as she gathered this might be (Christmas is a reflective time and all that), then he was best left to bring it up himself, lest one end up provoking him into a sharp retort, as he feigned nonchalance, instead. So she kept wiping, and within a couple of swipes around the edge of the sink, he spoke up.
“You’re right. I haven’t noticed what was right under my nose, right in front of me, all this time.” Audrey did stopped now but didn’t turn to look at him. She hadn’t expected to return to this conversation. Not after what she’d witnessed in the Drover’s. She looked at him, over her shoulder, out of the corner of her eye; instead of looking down at his shoes and avoiding eye contact, as she might have expected, his gaze was carefully levelled upon her instead, as if she were a skittish horse in danger of being spooked further.
“Well I’m glad to have been of help, you both deserve to be happy.” Audrey tried to inject her tone with the usual playful righteousness, which she adopted in conversations with him, but she feared that her words had only come out slightly tense and possibly dismissive. It was not that she was not happy for him — for them both — she was. But when she turned around, expecting him to be cheering with the rest of their family after she had won the darts tournament, and possibly beaming at her in the same way he had (years ago, now) when she had shown him her warden uniform for the first time, she had been taken aback a little by seeing him kissing Dorothy, and under mistletoe. She’d heard him denounce the stuff as a silly frivolity for the young enough times over the years that she now automatically took down any that Tris might try to sneak into Skeldale, just so they all could avoid getting an ear full about it. But more than that, she had been taken aback by how wrong it had felt to watch them kiss. Her mind had recoiled at the sight, emphatically saying *it in’t right,* which was only natural really considering what she’d really wanted to tell him when they had that conversation about the idea of soulmates*.* But she shouldn’t feel that way. She couldn’t. Especially when she’d been the one to push Siegfried towards Dorothy. So, she had to feign enthusiasm for now, and wait for time to do the rest.
At these words Siegfried looked slightly deflated, which she thought was odd, and she was more confused when he took a step into the kitchen, rubbing his brow as he did so, as if he were struggling to explain a complex and technical veterinary procedure to an impatient dales farmer.
“No, you misunderstand me, Mrs Hall. Audrey-. I-. I don’t mean Dorothy. Partly because she hasn’t been under my nose for a very long time, if i may stretch the metaphor, but also because… Well-”
“But I saw you… In the pub, I saw the two of you kiss under the mistletoe. And I were very happy for you.” Audrey knew she was being rude, butting in and not allowing him to finish his thought, but if he didn’t mean Dorothy then who did he mean? It was bad enough she thought him in love with someone who was, at one time, her closest friend. To have to endure a conversation in which he talked about his feelings for someone else would be torturous. She had only just begun to resign herself to a future which looked much the same as the present, if not worse for having an interloper (whom she loved, and cursed herself for considering them to be so), for that person to be stranger was a thought too depressing for Christmas day.
Siegfried did not take the interruption as a slight but, instead, looked appreciative for having been given a solid point from which to launch the conversation and steer them to where he wanted to go.
“Ah, yes, can I stop you right there a moment. You see, it wasn’t what you thought you saw.” Audrey raised a disbelieving eyebrow at this, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “Or at least, you’re right, we did share a kiss. But you’re mistaken if you think the kiss meant more than it did.”
He seemed to have returned to his apprehensive state by the end of this sentence. Luckily, Audrey was put out enough by the conversation thus far, to prompt him into clarity.
“Well what did it mean then?”
“It… well it was a moment between old friends who- who…” As he spoke, he took more steps into the kitchen and towards where she stood, now facing him fully, by the sink. he knew he needed to word this next bit carefully to avoid looking like a cad who simply kissed women, in full view of a pub full of people, and thought nothing more of it afterwards. After all, Dorothy was Audrey’s friend. However, she also was not the person whose feelings were his foremost concern at this current moment, and he wanted to be absolutely sure Audrey understood him when he spoke to her about this subject this time. So he took hold of the back of one of the kitchen chairs, hoping to reap from them a sense of stability, and averted his gaze onto the grain of the wood table so that he could not be distracted, or put off, by the interrogating look in Audrey’s eyes.
“Who you are ready now to become more than friends with. It’s alright Mr Farnon, nothing bad will happen by speaking it aloud.” For her part, Audrey was feeling a bit exasperated with him now.
Of course he would now feel the need to backpedal, and deny what was really between him and Dorothy. This was classic Siegfried Farnon behaviour. The man who was lonely, and whom she knew (because she knew him best of all people, besides Tristan) had longed to find someone to love romantically for several years, was now having to contend with his contrarian impulse to let things slip through his fingers because he is afraid of getting hurt, just when it seemed he’d found the someone he wanted. Well, she would not let him disappoint himself any longer. Because this time there was Dorothy at stake, who didn’t deserve it, and in toying about with her friend he was also toying about with Audrey, and she couldn’t be doing with that. He had made his choice, and she would make sure he stuck to it and saw it through. So she had finished his explanation for him, hoping it would put an end to this conversation, and that he would go back to the sitting room with the others, so that she would get five minutes to reconfigure herself into a happy and grateful attitude as the day required. Merry bloody Christmas indeed.
With these firm, and somewhat teasing words (though he believed there had also been an undertone present, as if to say “don’t be a coward”), Siegfried had enough evidence to gather that Audrey’s usually remarkable powers of discernment were not being focused on him as effectively as they usually were. He needed to get them on the right path, and quick, before she banished him from the kitchen. “No! No Audrey, that wasn’t what that kiss was. Perhaps it was the intention… Of course I can’t speak for Dorothy’s feelings… But I knew by the end of that kiss that she was not the one for me — that that wasn’t the road I really wished to travel. Dorothy is… wonderful, truly she is, and no doubt we could be quite happy together but….”
She appeared to soften at that. She sighed, and stepped toward the table to mirror his position, so that they now were on adjacent sides of the table, leaning into one another. Anyone who came in now would be forgiven for thinking they were conspiring in some trivial plot for after dinner fun, and not solemnly discussing the inner workings of his heart.
Audrey made an effort to catch his eye, as she began speaking, and was successful.
“But she’s not your other half, or whatever Aristophanes called it. I’m sorry that I were so dismissive of the idea earlier. There’s no reason you should settle for less than you want. Lord knows that isn’t no way to live, and especially now, after so much has been sacrificed by so many so we can be so hopeful.” She hoped that she was being encouraging. She still thought his — or rather Aristophanes’ (if one wanted to be pedantic about it) — idea of the soulmates was too high-minded and idealistic to be really possible to find. In her experience, the world, while a beautiful example of the Lord’s benevolence and love and creativity, could also (and more often than not, in recent times) be a place of violence, and harsh, unjust, and unforgiving circumstances; where one wanted, and needed, only a friend who was prepared to watch over you, and meet the various challenges with you. Who was prepared to be more, when you were less (as you would do for them, vice versa, when the time came), and also to laugh and be grateful with, when given the chance, in order to survive the unpredictable, messy, and beautiful adventure that was this life. But if he wanted an ideal, and it gave her time to adapt to an eventual future where things were not as they currently were, or would ideally be, then she would not advocate against it again. However selfish it might make her, she had learned her lesson.
Siegfried stood up straight again now, and put his hands back in his pockets in order not to grab her by the arms and shake her. She must be deliberately skirting the edge of what they must both know to be the point of this conversation. Even so, he would try with all his might not to give in to his usual impatience and lead her to the finish line, as it were, by just blurting out the truth. She deserved more eloquence than that, or, if her wishes did not align with his own, then he did not wish her to feel assaulted by his feelings on the matter.
“I don’t intend to settle for less. Dorothy must have read my mind, either that or she has powers of perception that many a weatherman would envy, because she seemed to know without needing words that that kiss would be the end of the thing. Or, perhaps, she felt my change in mind through the kiss. Either way, I’m a lucky man. She just nodded as if to say “I understand”, and left me with my thoughts. I have abominable timing, I know, but it occurred to me just as I kissed her that the reason you said what you did this morning might have been because you hadn’t properly understood my meaning. I didn’t tell you that story about soulmates merely to explain a vague wish on my part. I was trying to hint that I had already found my soulmate and that, regardless of how my soulmate may or may not feel about the matter, no other could possibly enter into consideration.”
There, he had done it. He could not make it much clearer without simply saying, “Audrey Hall, I’m in love with you.” He held her gaze with a level of determination and focus, which he did not think he had employed since Tristan went through a phase, at about ten years old, of being obsessed with staring contests. The upside was that he could blink in this scenario.
Audrey’s eyes had widened, from calculating scrutiny to wide-eyed, and obviously disbelieving. Normally, she would not let her guard down enough for him, or anyone else, to see this, so he must have truly shocked her. How could she not have known? After all that had happened over the last year: the train station, expressing his fears about her leaving again through a bloody goat metaphor, what he’d said that day when he was looking for Tristan, and after as they watched him take comfort in Charlotte. Surely she could not have been unaware that he was in love with her?
It was clear to everyone that he ceased to be a functional human being without her. She was so evidently his “other half”, in a way that others could only dream of. As for whether he was hers, he hoped he could prove himself to be. Her pain was his. Likewise, her joy was. The events of Christmas ‘42 had proven that, when her Edward’s life had been at peril and he hadn’t taken a deep breath until he skidded into that hall behind her, when she took that most blessed of phone calls. But that was three years ago, now. He had missed the wedding. Barely acknowledged the birth of Mary. He had treated her abominably when she first returned. Had made life awkward for her with his treatment of others. No, he couldn’t blame her if she couldn’t see it, he supposed. In true Siegfried Donald Farnon fashion, he had done all but the one, most important, thing to set the love he felt for others in stone, in their minds: actually telling them. Making it crystal clear that, besides all the other mess that was his many and inevitable (it seemed) blunders, his love was unconditional and all-encompassing.
Audrey’s eyes only remained unguarded for a fleeting moment, before she’d swallowed and drawn herself up to her full height; eyes narrowed, and hand on hip, to suggest casual curiosity. As opposed to the demanding need to know the exact truth of what he was saying, which was being screamed at her by her thumping heart beat, as well as the warring voices in her brain, amongst which the rational side tried to quickly deny the traitorous (but fervent) hopes of the other side; that he might be suggesting what she thought she read in his manner and words.
“Who were you talking about then?”
Siegfried fought an amused smile, but could not stop himself from taking one more step forward, so that there was now less than a foot of space between them, and tilting his head in a teasing manner as he cryptically replied, “I think you know now but didn’t earlier.”
If her heart hadn’t been near beating out of her chest, Audrey might have had the presence of mind to be infuriated with him for purposefully teasing her, and forcing her to look up at him in order to retain eye contact. Although her brain was mostly reeling at the idea that her world might be about to turn upside down (once again), but for good this time, some of this patent annoyance, which Siegfried prompted in her, managed to bleed through into her words.
“No, I were a bit put out because I took that story to mean that you didn’t think of me that way. That you never would because… well because nobody would look at me and think of me as your missing half, or vice versa. We come from different worlds. So, then I said that rubbish about missing what’s right in front of you, out of a bit of bitterness, and not wanting to give away that that’s exactly what I did want. But it didn’t occur to me, that you might think I were pointing you to Dorothy, until I won that blimmin’ goose, and I turned to see the two of you kissing. I made a right mess of it all.”
“Only because I failed to make my feelings and wishes clear, when I had ample opportunity to do so. I should have saved us both the trouble, and told you that I love you, at that blasted train station all those months ago. But… Well I suppose I’m saying it now. I love you Audrey Hall. You are my other half in all the ways that matter.” He gave her a sheepish grin as he finally said the words, which had been vying to leave his lips, and when she grinned back at him, then he dared to move his hands to take hers. He brought them to rest upon his chest, and pressed his lips against her knuckles in a reverent kiss, for which he was rewarded with an even bigger, and more beatific smile, spreading across her face.
He would have been content to just stand admiring her for a moment, but there was a comment she had made, which did not sit right with him, and so he gathered himself enough to say something more, before he got totally lost in the wonder that was his Audrey Hall.
“And we don’t come from different worlds. Not really. Jobs, and habits, and all the things you and others might argue as dividing us, are just superficial. You and I have weathered many a storm together. We do better when we’re together, I think. In many ways, I think we’ve become vital elements of each other’s worlds. Mine spun off its axis with you gone, and forgive me if I flatter myself by thinking that you missed having the whole of Skeldale, and a good portion of the Darrowby community, to govern and benefact.” Audrey’s smiled softened into one of quiet mirth at this, and she nodded her agreement, unwilling to break the spell that seemed to have been cast by his speaking to her so earnestly and lovingly.
Siegfried sighed, then, in a mix of relief and almost unfathomable happiness. He had done it. Finally. If the smile on her face, and the sudden fullness of her eyes, were anything to go by she was his. Merry bloody Christmas to him. There was nothing more he could ever, or would ever, want.
Well, maybe there was one thing. He was just about to go in for the plunge, when Audrey spoke.
“We’ve both been far too cowardly for our age and experiences. We should know better. That you should tell those you love, that you do so and how much, before the chance is taken from you. But there’s no use in berating ourselves for what we should have done. We’re here now. I love you too, Siegfried Farnon. Our happiness may be hard won but it’s all the sweeter for it, in my view.” With this, Audrey’s impressive constraint on the tears in her eyes was lost, but before they could spill down her cheeks, Siegfried had bought their still joined hands up to swipe the drops away with his thumbs. Overcome with the truth of her statement, he pulled her in for a kiss that was simultaneously comforting and passionate, soft and reverent, and searing and full of promise.
Further away, a delighted cheer went up. James’s proud, “Well done, love”, and Jimmy’s echoing “Well done, Mummy”, suggested that Helen had been the victor for this round of her card game with Tristan. But the celebration did not last long before Tristan could be heard to demand a rematch.
The lovers in the kitchen had pulled away slightly, now, basking in the singularly sublime feeling of a love newly uncovered and shared. Siegfried cupped the back of Audrey’s head to tilt her forehead closer in order to press a kiss there, where he had always longed to. She smiled and let out a laugh of giddy disbelief, as she smoothed her hands down the lapels of his waistcoat. She gave a faux resigned sigh, and a playful wink, as she stepped back.
“Come on, lets go through, before they come looking for us. No doubt they’ll smell it on us as soon as we walk in the room, may as well as go and cheers with them for it, before a fight breaks out between Tris and Helen and the mood is ruined. Perhaps I’ll give her respite and have a game with him.” Siegfried chuckled, and nodded in agreement, moving behind her to help remove her pinny. He folded it quickly, but lovingly, before placing it over the back of Audrey’s desk chair, while she used her reflection in the window to check the unruliness of her hair. Finally, she returned to his side at the doorway to take his outstretched hand and be led back through the house to rejoin their family. The rest of their world, from now on, shared fully.
“Well, I hope you won’t let him win, my dear, he should be setting an example for Jimmy that you can’t always have it your way.” Siegfried felt a burst of pride at the way Audrey visibly melted upon hearing the newly significant term of endearment, which he completely refused to feel guilty for. Feeding off his smugness, she made a quick rejoinder.
“I don’t know, I seem to be winning quite a lot lately.”
The proud but also adoring smile which she gave him then, took Siegfried’s breath away, and all he could do was laugh, heart overflowing and jubilant, as they walked on together.