Chapter Text
August 1933
The work had sustained him through the spring. He forgot about the pain, about the loneliness, about the empty house waiting for him but also he forgot about picking Tristan up, which had been the young lads first sign that things were not at all well with his brother. That the lack of letters weren't just because nothing was happening at home but rather because his brother wasn't stopping long enough to write them or remember that they needed writing in the first place. It was alright though, Tristan managed just fine. He could look after himself. But now the summer holidays were coming to an end and Tristan couldn't just leave Siegfried to fend for himself not for another 3 months.
"Help? I don't need help Tristan, I am perfectly capable managing things by myself as I have done for many years, years that quite exceed your time on this planet."
"We both know that isn't true, you were hoarding eggs and sardines when I finally arrived after you forgot to collect me. We've had a fair collection of responses just meet them." Tristan held out a stack of letters. There was only a week left to find someone. Tristan kicked himself for not finding the courage sooner to place the advertisement. He should have placed it when he'd run out of underwear, or when the stench of manure started rotting in his nose every damned night but he hadn't quite found the courage to stand his ground.
Mrs Grainger lasted 2 days, Mrs Lancashire a day, Mrs Talbot only 4 hours and Miss Peterson had taken the tour with Tristan but fled the second Siegfried had raised his voice. It was hopeless. The place was a mess they were living off the kindness of the farmer's wives and tins of sardines.
Tristan would be leaving bright and early Monday morning and he was terrified of his brothers fate. Not to add further insult to his widowed older brother but he wasn't exactly charming, that was Tristan's role in the family, and the man couldn't afford to alienate anyone else.
Saturday saw a storm arrive. It bellowed at the windows. Tristan paced in the parlour. Siegfried had been called out more than a couple of hours ago after a tree had fallen on Mr Conley's horse. There was supposed to be another applicant coming but he had rather given up on her as she had mentioned the morning bus which had been cancelled quite swiftly when the winds had picked up around 10 this morning.
Siegfried blundered into the house. Caked in mud and soaked to the bone.
"Tristan! Tristan! Where is the towel I left by the door? I distinctly remember leaving one for when the weather gets bad."
"In the laundry, you used it the other day after the encounter with Sharpe's sow."
"Ah, have we any more?"
"No, I'm only one person, Siegfried. And I have been trying to get the kitchen under control before we cultivate new species of life on the pans." Tristan scoffed throwing his hands up. Siegfried's expression softened as he stared at his newly 16 year old brother. He wasn't the only one missing Evelyn. Tristan's clothes were creased and there was a raggedness in his eyes that was not befitting of his age.
"I'll do it, go to bed, Tristan." Siegfried ran a hand over his face.
"It's not even 8 o'clock," the boy protested.
"To bed Tristan!" Siegfried snapped.
"Well, just so you know there's-"
"Bed. Now! You are due back at school on Monday, you will need all your strength. Wake up that brain of yours." Siegfried yelled, Tristan scoffed. The likelihood of this Mrs Hall showing up was slim to none anyway.
Siegfried settled at the table, in front of the mass of dishes he had worked his way through the kitchen and while attempts had been made to clear the mess, his body and Tristan's dictated that food had to be consumed everyday not just when he was on the brink of collapsing. So the dishes never stopped even when he come up with meals that didn't need to many dishes, like sardines and eggs. Evelyn was a practical woman. She spent so much of their marriage trying to encourage him to find some practicalities.
Just pick one thing, my love. Write a list or sort it all into piles then work on the most urgent. Evelyn's voice rang out in his head. She is, was, so practical. Siegfried looked around the room, what piles could he make here? Pans worth saving vs pans beyond saving? Mouldy plates vs crumby plates. Siegfried screwed his eyes closed trying to conjure her again but was met with nothing but silence, silence and darkness, and dread. He was never going to hear her again, not truly. Now, she lived only in his imagination.
As he sat there consumed by everything and nothing a banging startled him onto his feet. He glanced at the window, the storm was still ongoing but the banging continued incongruent with the storm. He walked through the house, the reality of his wet clothes suddenly dawning on him. Siegfried grimaced as he opened the door, the heavy fabric clinging to his skin and making it itchy.
"What? Surgery closed hours ago!" He shouted.
"I know! The weather wreaked havoc on my travel plans. Mr Farnon is expecting me." The woman's voice yelled over the wind, she huddled against the wall. Siegfried allowed her in. She was dripping, her hand frozen around a suitcase that had seen better days.
"I'm not expecting you," he said with a confused expression. She stopped mid movement as she shook the rain from her hat. Horrified at the revelation.
"I don't understand, we exchanged letters. You offered me a trial period of one week. I'm sorry I'm late-"
"I don't even know who you are." Siegfried interrupted, running his fingers through his hair. This was it, he had reached the ultimate peak of madness.
"Aren't you Mr S Farnon?" She asked with wide eyes, panic rising. Siegfried closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"TRISTAN!" He let out an almighty roar, the woman stepped back. Above them the sound of bare feet padded against the floor. A young lad, quarter of his way to sleep appeared.
"Siegfried, what are you playing at? You demand I go to bed and now you're all up in arms about -" Tristan stopped nothing the stranger who rather looked like a drowned rat. He rushed down the stairs.
"Mrs Hall! Please don't let my brother's lack of manners deter you from taking the position here. We need a housekeeper. We are drowning. He is stubborn but I'm telling you please stay the week. I will even make up the room myself-" Tristan begged a wild desperate look in his eyes as he shook her hand. Siegfried watched with a dropped jaw while this Mrs Hall stared at him with wide eyes.
"You pretended to be your brother? You lied to get me here."
"No, I simply amended some truths to - um, small lies. Please stay," still holding her hand he pulled her away from Siegfried and glanced carefully at his brother over his shoulder then back to her, "I can't back to school if he is alone." Audrey stared at him. This young lad, who seemed to have the world on his shoulders. He reminded her of Edward. She glanced at the older Farnon, who much like herself was standing in wet clothes, he was staring at them dumbfounded by having a housekeeper thrust upon him.
"Alright then, I'll stay, perhaps I could start by getting a brew on. Where's the kitchen?" She asked and she could've sworn both Farnon men looked as if they might cry.
August 1982
Siegfried cleared his throat and screwed up his face as he awoke. The sun was streaming in through the window and he could hear people bustling about downstairs; the ringing of the telephone, the growling and barking of dogs, the skittering and laughter of children. Audrey looked up.
"You alright, love?" She asked, heaving herself up out of the chair.
"Of course, I'll be up and about tomorrow. Constitution of a -"
"of a thoroughbred. Yes, I know, I know. Tris called the doctor anyhow," Audrey sat down on the bed taking her husband's hand.
"Bloody doctors, I don't need one my dear." He squeezed her hand. Audrey closed her eyes and shook her head.
"At least you're consistent. Do you need anything?"
"You. Lie with me." He patted her side of the bed. Audrey smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss on his lips. There would have been a time when she'd have been able to climb over him but she was well into her 80's now so walking around the bottom of the bed was her only way over. Just as she sat on her side there was a crash from downstairs. Siegfried scoffed, they looked at each other with knowing smiles.
"3.2.1." they counted together.
"Auntie Audrey!" One of the smaller children yelled.
"Oh god, Auntie Audrey!" Another, older voice, probably Jimmy, called up the stairs.
"I better go, unless you fancy having swathes of children in here?"
"Not while I'm only dressed in my unmentionables," Siegfried said with a phony accent and exaggerated tone, he pulled the duvet up to his chin. Audrey scoffed and playfully swotted at his arm.
"I love you, Audrey Farnon." He said as she got to the door.
"I love you, Siegfried Farnon." She turned to smile at him, her grey hair pinned back from her face and her own mustard yellow cardie she'd knitted some time in the 60's. The sun caught her hair, her blue eyes now permanently behind large plastic frames still shone in the light like the day he'd married her. Siegfried felt his heart swell. Then she was gone nipping back down the stairs to help.
"Right, what's broken and whose hurt?" He heard her say with a bit of a chuckle. Siegfried relaxed into the pillows with his wife on his mind.
10 minutes later the swathes of children came into his room. With panic and sorrow on their faces. It wouldn't be until the following day that the doctor would explain an aneurysm had killed her. She'd stepped into the cupboard for a brush and simply not come out again. No cure, no warning, just the end.