Chapter Text
Siegfried sat down heavily, landing in the chair in his study with a sigh. What a day it had been. Normally, a day full of farm calls, a cantankerous sow, and an emergency surgery after hours would leave him physically tired but intellectually stimulated and satisfied. Today however, he was not merely tired but mentally drained and exhausted—and no closer to an answer for the dilemma he felt deep inside, hidden in a place he could scarcely name.
He heard a rustling and glanced sideways at the cage that housed one of his two pet rats. Gerald poked his nose between the wires of the cage, offering a friendly greeting. Siegfried felt a small smile tug at his mouth and broke a corner off the shortbread he had snuck from the pantry, reaching to feed the treat to his furry friend. His mind wasn’t on the little creature, however.
With another sigh, he pulled a disorderly stack of papers toward him. More bills. How had the stack grown so quickly? He supposed he had no one to blame but himself for that, seeing that he always put off paying bills as long as possible. It wasn’t financial concerns but rather the very thought of administrative paperwork that put him off the task. Paperwork was a necessary evil in a veterinary practice, it seemed. He was happy to leave much of the practice’s paperwork—from lab submissions to Ministry of Agriculture forms—to James and Tristan. But since he was the proprietor of this fine establishment, bills fell to him and him alone. And he was behind again.
Setting his pipe aside, he scanned the first bill. Oops, this one was overdue. Better get it taken care of right away. He signed a cheque for the amount due, then tucked it into an envelope and addressed it. As he set it aside, his thoughts circled back to the issue that had kept surfacing in his mind all day, clamouring for his attention. He had kept tamping it down so he could focus on the day’s various tasks before him, but in every moment of quiet, it bubbled up again, refusing to be ignored.
What did he want from his friendship with Dorothy?
Mrs. Hall had encouraged him to rekindle the relationship—could it ever have been called a relationship?—with Dorothy. He hadn’t seen her in nearly a decade and had even pursued other women over the last several years—or at least, had fleeting social flings with other women. He had met Dorothy a few years after the death of his wife, and her brief presence in his life had made him realize that perhaps he could desire female companionship again. Then she had left, and he had been content to let the friendship conclude as a happy memory, and nothing more.
The years had gone by, and other women had come and gone from his life. Or rather, in most cases, he had come and gone from their lives. He had discovered that many women found him charming and engaging, and he was happy to meet their expectations and have a good time. Some might think he had left a trail of broken hearts behind him, but he knew better. Those women hadn’t been looking for a deep, meaningful relationship any more than he. Instead, they had enjoyed the dances, the flicks, and the restaurants for what they were: flirtatious social outings that entertained and flattered. And it had been fun. Siegfried had felt himself becoming comfortable with women again, finding his place in the social landscape of Darrowby and the surrounding county.
Another bill. This one from the lab that ran their tests. Ah, caught it just in time. Siegfried quickly filled in the cheque, signed, and stuffed it into another envelope, adding it to the pile of post that Mrs. Hall would drop off during her morning errands tomorrow.
Things had changed a few years ago. They had stood in Skeldale’s kitchen a few weeks before Christmas and heard the news that the HMS Repulse, Edward Hall’s ship, had come under enemy fire. They had worried and hoped alongside Mrs. Hall as she waited every day for news. Siegfried had suffered alongside her silently, offering comfort in the ways he knew how. In the end, they all celebrated together that Christmas, being able to cry and laugh and breathe again when Edward called to say he was alright. He was injured, with a long recovery ahead, but alive. Siegfried hadn’t known it then, but that moment marked not only great relief he felt for Mrs. Hall but also a countdown to his life unravelling.
Siegfried sighed again and leaned back in his chair, invoices temporarily forgotten as he toyed with the pen in his hand. He stared at the desk, unseeing, and winced as his mind wandered over the three years that had followed that happy Christmas. Mrs. Hall had given him notice of her resignation for the second time since he had hired her; this time, she had left. She moved to Sunderland to care for Edward while he recovered. She had thought the move to be temporary, but as Edward recovered, married, and then started a family, the years bled into each other. For Siegfried, the years had blurred into a long continuum of misery. Tristan deployed to Italy, and James and Siegfried had been left to keep things running—the practice itself understaffed and the household descending into disarray. No, he shook his head to himself. Not disarray. Chaos—utter chaos.
And Siegfried had become a shell of himself. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, but as James had said, the wheels had come off the wagon. Siegfried shifted in his chair. No point in going over every detail of those years again—some of the worst of his life. What mattered now was that Mrs. Hall was back. Order in the practice and the household—and his life—had been restored. Peace with England’s enemies was declared, Tristan honourably discharged from the Royal Army Veterinary Corps. The Herriot family had moved back into town, purchasing a cottage a few minutes’ walk from Skeldale House. Mrs. Hall reigned over her domain, and Siegfried had found his footing again.
He smiled to himself. Yes, things were sailing along smoothly now. They were able to meet the needs of all their clients. The practice was modernizing, and though Siegfried had struggled to admit it at the time, the x-ray machine James purchased was proving its worth already. In the last month, they had gained three clients from George Pandhi, who couldn’t provide x-rays to his patients, and there were bound to be more. The three vets of Skeldale House had set up a rotation for surgery, farm calls, and night calls and it was working out nicely. Tristan had returned from war emotionally wounded but was healing and showing a maturity in both his personal and professional life that impressed Siegfried. And with Mrs. Hall cooking, cleaning, and keeping everything—and everyone—on track, Siegfried reckoned they were fortunate indeed.
A squeak from Gerald brought Siegfried out of his reverie. He leaned forward, poking a finger through the cage to pet the rat’s head. “And you’re just content to have food and water and intelligent conversation, aren’t you?” He smiled at the rat. “How long have you been cooped up in there? All day, I imagine.” Siegfried unlatched the side door and brought the rat out, tucking him in one hand while stroking him with the other. “I don’t suppose you have any insight into this issue, do you? No, probably not. The scope of human concern really is beyond the family Muridae, intelligent as you may be.” Siegfried paused, then said to himself more than the rat, “Although considering that I’ve been mulling over this for days and still haven’t made any progress on the matter, I almost wish you could give me some insight.”
Footsteps on the hallway tile floor sounded closer and Mrs. Hall appeared in the door of the study a moment later. She greeted Siegfried with a smile and set a cup of tea with a couple shortbreads on his desk.
“Brought ye some tea to help you get through those bills,” she said. “Makin’ progress?”
Siegfried glanced at the two envelopes. “I’ve started,” he replied. “I don’t know how we get so impossibly behind on these.”
Mrs. Hall smiled. “Well, ye’re not the only one,” she said. “Most folk don’t seem overly eager to pay you, either.”
Siegfried huffed. “Administrative details have never been my strong suit,” he conceded. “Maybe we ought to do more ‘modernizing’ and find ourselves a secretary.”
Mrs. Hall crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame thoughtfully. “Aye, maybe you’ll be so fortunate as to find another Ms. Harbottle.”
Siegfried gave her a look that suggested he did not appreciate her teasing. Mrs. Hall laughed. “I’ll leave ye to it then. Will ye be wantin’ a few rounds of our word game when you’re finished?”
“Lovely idea, Mrs. Hall. I’ll get through a few more of these bills, then we can start.” Siegfried returned Gerald to his cage as Audrey went back to the kitchen. He sorted the remaining bills into two piles: past due and not yet due. Mercifully, the overdue pile amounted to only five of the seventeen bills, and he worked through those quickly. He was just finishing up when the sound of the telephone ringing pulled him from his task.
~ ~ ~
Audrey Hall cleaned up the last remnants of the day in the kitchen. She wiped the table and sink and hung the tea towel to dry, then switched on the small lamp on the little writing desk and turned off the main lights. After one last glance around the kitchen to make sure everything was in its place, she hung up her pinny and went to the dining room.
As she approached, she heard Siegfried on the phone. Hopefully not another late-night call, she thought. There had been many of those lately—lambing season was like that. She went through to the dining room, uncertain if she should get their game ready. After listening to Siegfried’s side of the conversation for a moment, she decided it wasn’t a farmer he was talking to. Likely Dorothy, she realized. She felt a familiar twinge in her chest. She had been feeling it more and more frequently, she realized. She couldn’t quite name it, nor understand it. She figured it had something to do with Siegfried and Dorothy; though why she felt anything other than happiness for them she didn’t know. Siegfried had seen many women over the years, and she had never felt like this when they showed up or Siegfried mentioned them. What was different this time?
She heard Siegfried chuckle softly into the phone, and after a moment, she heard him say his goodbyes and hang up. She sat down at the table, the board and tiles of the game ready for them to begin. Siegfried strode into the room and poured himself a drink. “Whiskey?” he offered.
“A small one,” she smiled.
He set the glasses on the table and sat down, pulling his glasses out of his coat pocket and setting them gingerly on his nose. “Shall we include Latin words tonight?” he asked.
“What, already running out of your made-up words in English?” she protested.
Siegfried smiled and held up his hands in surrender. “It was worth a try,” he conceded.
They played several words before Audrey ventured to mention the phone call. “I was hoping that the telephone weren’t another call out. It’s certainly been busy for ye all with lambin’ season.”
“Every year seems to be busier, doesn’t it? Maybe lambing season just always takes us by surprise,” he replied. Then after another moment, “I won’t be here for Sunday lunch tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll be taking Dorothy for a drive.”
Audrey nodded. “Thanks for lettin’ me know,” she said. “Tris is seeing Charlotte, so it sounds like I have the afternoon off.” She smiled and scanned her letter tiles, not really seeing them. There was that twinge again. Twinge of…what? she wondered. She blinked and looked at her letters again, then reached to place her tiles. “That’s me tenth word,” she said, smiling.
“What?” Siegfried replied. He counted the words on the board, then nodded. “Ah, the victory goes to you, Mrs. Hall. Well played,” he said. He swallowed the last of his whiskey. “Another drink?” he offered.
Audrey smiled tiredly. “I think I’d better turn in,” she said. “I’m dead on me feet.” She stood up and packed up the tiles. “Thanks for the game.”
Siegfried raised his refilled glass. “Goodnight, Mrs. Hall.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Farnon.”