Nine Times Out of Ten

Author's Note: This takes place not long before James joins the practice.

Even though it was an expected part of his profession, Siegfried hated night calls.

Granted, it wasn't as if the farmers in the Dales kept regular hours. Work tended to stretch from sunrise to sunset and would often creep around those barriers if needed. Still, nighttime calls tended to be reserved for the serious concerns. A cow that was nearly falling over with sickness. A pig that was in labor but hadn't produced a single piglet. A horse that had a serious accident with a fence. In other words, if often meant that some catastrophic event that was threatening the life of an animal.

Or it meant the supreme annoyance of someone who didn't distinguish between a true emergency and a trivial concern that could wait until normal business hours. Something that never failed to annoy Siegfried.

However, what Siegfried loathed most of all were the night calls that occurred when Tristan wasn't home at Skeldale. When he didn't know what his little brother was up to and when trouble could be brewing.

Nine times out of ten, these phone calls severely tested the limits of Siegfried's long suffering patience.

One of them occurred during a warm spring night, a lovely night for going over to Brawden to visit Mother…or for other activities. Instead, he'd been stuck on night duty and was having to content himself with a good book. Someone had introduced him to this new author, Dorothy Sayers. From what he had read thus far, she appeared to have promise.

The loud, shrill tones of the phone interrupted his reading, and Siegfried let out a sigh as he dropped his book onto the couch. Truthfully, it might not be so bad to get out of the house, even if it wasn't in the company of an attractive companion.

Siegfried snatched up the receiver. "Hello? Darrowby three eight five?"

"…um….Siegfried?"

Siegfried could already feel a tightness forming in his jaw. "Yes, little brother. I assume you're about to explain why you aren't home even though you were supposed to arrive…." He pulled the pocket watch out of his waist coat and consulted it. "…two hours ago. Well?"

There was a long pause which Siegfried imagined was due to Tristan's booze-addled brain struggling to find a plausible excuse for his lateness.

"It was the dammedst thing, Siegfried," Tristan said, his voice cracking with a forced laugh. "I was driving home just so I could get back by the time you told me to when this cat ran onto the road. Well, I think it was a cat. Now that I think about it…."

"Tristan, the possible existence of a cat aside, are you telling me that you hit something? Please say that it wasn't some poor farmer's livestock."

"No of course not," Tristan rushed to reply. "I mean, I nearly did. It was a close shave, but I swerved before I could hit any of them."

"Them?" Siegfried paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tristan, where exactly are you?"

"…well…I'm in a phone booth. But the car is in Miller's field. Albert Miller. You know, the one with all those sheep. But I didn't hit any of them, Siegfried, I swear."

"And the car? I take it it's not in as pristine of a condition as the sheep."

"It's not like I had much choice. I didn't want to hit those sheep, so….there was this fence…a really big one, and…."

"Stop. Just….I assume that you need a ride home now?"

"Oh no, Miller said he'd take me back to town in his buggy," Tristan said. "You know, he's really nice, Siegfried. He didn't get upset or anything. Isn't even charging anything for the fence."

"Then why exactly are you calling me?"

There was another long pause before Tristan spoke again. "Um, Miller did say that we couldn't go until we found the sheep that escaped when the fence broke. And I thought, since it'd be faster if we had help…."

Siegfried hung up on him and went back to the couch. He had been debating whether to send Tristan on his own to inoculate Dent's latest batch of piglets or to have Tristan go with him on his rounds so he could lend a hand if needed.

This phone call had just made his decision so much easier to resolve.

Sometimes when Tristan called, he was much more sober than he often was during these late night conversations.

Siegfried had picked the phone up by the second ring with a sardonic smile appearing on his face when he realized who it was.

"Yes, little brother. What have you gotten yourself into this time? You have ten seconds to tell me before I hang up and go back to bed."

"Siegfried! Siegfried, for God's sake, don't hang up, whatever you do!"

The desperate tone to his little brother's voice actually inspired some concern. "All right, what is going on?"

"A joke, that's what," Tristan snapped. "A rotten one too. St. John and I were heading over to a pub and…."

"St. John?! Tristan, have you forgotten already what I told you about associating with…with that…?"

"I know, I know, but he's my friend, Siegfried."

"An exceptionally poor choice for a friend. I see we need to have another talk about your social life, little brother."

"Siegfried, honestly, I…."

"Tristan we'll discuss it later. Just tell me what this is about."

"I'm trying to," Tristan whined. "Anyway, we were going out for drinks and well…. It's an awfully hot night, Siegfried. Scorching, really. And St. John was saying that a quick swim was just the thing to cool us off. And it was. We had a quick dip and then I thought we were going to go get our drinks, but um…he disappeared."

"Disappeared? You mean he ran off and left you stranded?"

"Yes…and he didn't just take the car."

Siegfried grimaced. It wasn't difficult for him to imagine where St. John's sense of humor might have gone. He was also more than a little curious about how Tristan had managed to make this phone call, but decided that the potential urgency of the situation meant delaying that story for another time.

"For heaven's sake, you haven't let anyone see you in the state you're in?"

No, no, only just though. I'm not, well, I'm not exactly naked…."

"Tristan, I fail to see how this could be an ambiguous point. You either are or are not walking about au naturale, are you not?"

"I did manage to find these bushes that had a bunch of leaves on them."

"And you decided to do your own interpretation of Adam at the Fall of Man," Siegfried replied.

"I suppose that's one way to put it, yes," Tristan said with a weak laugh.

Siegfried ground his jaw. He was sorely tempted to leave Tristan to his fate, but there were also reputations to be considered. Especially his own. As his elder brother, Siegfried knew that if Tristan was caught exposing himself to the citizens of Darrowby, it would not reflect well on either of them.

"Siegfried?! Siegfried, are you still there?"

"Unfortunately yes. Give me your current location and then I suggest you return to those bushes where you got your current attire and wait there until I arrive."

"Oh, oh thank you, Siegfried. And I'm so sorry that…."

"We'll discuss your punishment when you get here," Siegfried cut in. "And Tristan…does St. John have any intention of returning the articles of clothing he absconded with?"

"Probably," Tristan grumbled. "That devil will probably want to get one last laugh at my expense. Why?"

"No reason," Siegfried said. "Just tell me where you are so I can get going. And for God's sake Tristan, don't let any of the constables see you."

Tristan assured him that he wouldn't and hastily gave Siegfried his location before hanging up. Meanwhile, Siegfried already started to make plans as he climbed the steps toward Tristan's room. Yes, he would make sure to intercept St. John when Tristan's clothing was returned so the two of them could have a conversation. A long overdue conversation. One that St. John would not forget.

For now though, he needed to focus on fetching some clothes and making sure that Tristan did not make the sort of spectacle of himself that the people of Darrowby would not likely forgive.

Often, the lateness of the hour when receiving these phone calls made Siegfried more wary than usual. True, emergencies could happen at any time, but there were plenty of times when people called late and ignored the etiquette of society just to be insufferable.

Though, sometimes, that rudeness was suspicious in itself.

"Hello? Darrowby three eight five?"

There was a grunt and then a high, nasal voice came through over the line. "Yes, I want to speak to Mr. Siegfried Farnon about a legal matter."

"This is he. And what do you mean, a legal matter?"

"Yes. Yes, it's about a job you did last week at Bailey's farm," the voice continued. "I'm Cook, from the firm of Cook, Collins and Bell, and Mr. Bailey has engaged our services to take action for the damages he sustained due to your negligence."

"Negligence? That's preposterous," Siegfried snorted. "That job was done properly with absolutely no complications."

"No complications. That's a fine thing to say. What with the animal being dead."

"Dead?! That's not possible," Siegfried snapped. "It was just a simple injection. There was no risk to that cow and she was improving even before I left. If she's dead now, it had nothing to do with me or the treatment I gave her."

"Oh, oh, you're pretty convinced of that, aren't you, veterinary? Yes, my firm has dealt with plenty of your sort before. You vets think you are so clever and can do no wrong. Well, you're not so infallible you know."

Siegfried's face turned red, his blood beginning to boil. "Now look here…."

Muffled sounds in the receiver put a halt to Siegfried next tirade. That momentary pause while he tried to figure out what he was hearing was enough to give him time to reconsider the conversation he was having. The longer he listened to that voice over the line, the more it seemed odd to him. No, not odd…inebriated. Not the sort of state lawyers tended to be in while making their usual threats, even if there were some pretty unscrupulous ones out there.

Eventually, Siegfried was able to hear those muffled sounds for what they were: poorly concealed giggles.

"Hey, hey now veterinary, er Mr. Faron….are you still there?"

A sinister smirk appeared on Siegfried's face. "Yes, Mr. Cook, I'm here. And I think you should know that the injection I gave Bailey's cow was actually prepared by my younger brother, a junior member of the practice. It may interest you to know that I am planning a suit of my own against him. For gross misconduct on the job.

Suddenly, Cook's voice changed dramatically.

"What!? Siegfried, you devil, you're the one who…."

"Ah ha!" Siegfried replied, triumphant. "Right, little brother, just wait until you get home. I see now that I have been far too lenient in regards to your activities outside of your working hours. Well, not anymore. We shall be discussing a brand new work schedule which, I'm certain, will inspire some much needed reform."

"But Siegfried…."

"Mind your words carefully, Tristan. I haven't actually committed to how your punishment will unfold yet."

That was met with a sudden 'click' and a subsequent dial tone.

Siegfried sighed and shook his head. It was clear now that Tristan needed new interests to keep him occupied. Little brother had far too much time on his hands, time that was being squandered on drinking and ridiculous pranks.

Then Siegfried remembered an old friend of his, Mr. Reynolds, had mentioned that he needed help moving some furniture into a room that had just been renovated in his mansion.

It would be as good of a starting point as any to instruct his baby brother on the value of hard work.

It was a cold, miserable night when another phone call came. It had started snowing just as the sun was setting and had stopped only a few minutes ago, leaving a thick, icy blanket spread all throughout Darrowby and the neighboring towns. These nights were the least welcoming to a vet who was dragged out of bed for a night call.

Unfortunately, Siegfried's latest assistant was out on a calving and it was Tristan's night off, so there was little choice in the matter.

Siegfried yawned as he picked up the receiver. "Hello, yes. Darrowby three eight five."

"May I speak to Mr. Siegfried Farnon."

"This is he. And you are?"

"I'm Nurse Fletcher with the Darrowby hospital. Mr. Farnon, I'm afraid this concerns your brother. There was an accident…."

Scarcely twenty minutes later, Siegfried was rushing through the hospital entrance.

All he had gotten from the nurse on the phone was that Tristan had been in a car accident and was currently being treated. That alone was more than enough to worry him, but the lack of any other information filled him with dread as his imagination ran wild with all the grim outcomes that were possible for his brother.

As he made his way to the front desk, it finally occurred to Siegfried that he had probably violated numerous traffic laws in his haste to get here. Not that he cared about such trivial matters at the moment.

"Excuse me," he said as he sprinted toward the nurse at the desk. "I'm Siegfried Farnon. I received a call that my brother, Tristan, was admitted here."

"Yes, Mr. Farnon," the nurse nodded. "Please have a seat and I will notify the doctor that you are here."

"What about my brother? Is he all right?" Siegfried asked. "Is he seriously hurt?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Farnon, I've only been on duty for a few minutes," the nurse said. "You'll have to wait until the doctor can speak to you."

Siegfried scowled, but held his tongue while stumbling over to the row of wooden chairs nearby. Every muscle in his body was tense as he sat down. His insides felt as chilled as the air outside.

A part of him had never been comfortable with allowing Tristan access to one of the practice's cars outside of work. Especially on a night when he was certain to go off on one of his sordid misadventures. Tristan was far too reckless behind the wheel. He was the type of driver who needed an abundance of braking power from a car, a sure sign of a mediocre driver. Now, it looked like he was going to pay for not heeding his concerns.

Siegfried leaned forward and ran his hands over his face. He started to formulate the lecture he would give Tristan about his unsafe driving, his drunken escapades, and the fact that one of the practice's cars would have to be repaired yet again. However, all the things he thought of seemed trivial when they were weighed against the fact that he had no idea of how serious Tristan's accident was. Thus, all the things he planned to say drifted from his mind almost as soon as they occurred to him.

Nine times out of ten the late night calls that involved Tristan were just part of the usual mischief his little brother was so frequently getting into. But then there was always that one time. The one time when it wasn't so harmless after all. The one time when it could mean something terrible had happened.

The one time when Siegfried would be forced to confront some of his worst fears.

Siegfried let out a long breath as he attempted to steady his nerves. He never enjoyed dwelling on the worries that were always present at the back of his mind. However, the anxiety those worries caused and the discomfort he felt over thinking about them could not begin to compare to how he knew he'd feel if they came to anything. If he had to face a loss that would surely leave a gaping hole in his heart and in his life.

"Mr. Farnon?"

Siegfried's head snapped up to see a doctor standing in front of him. He immediately leapt to his feet.

"Yes, Doctor…my brother…is he…?"

"He'll be all right, Mr. Farnon," the doctor assured him. "Just a mild concussion and some bruised ribs. He was very fortunate. The man who was driving the car that hit him came out of it with two broken legs."

Siegfried's shoulders sagged in relief. "Oh thank heavens," he muttered.

"From what I was able to gather from the constable who was at the scene of the accident, the other driver overcompensated on a curve and slid straight into your brother's car," the doctor continued. "There was little your brother could do to avoid it."

Siegfried nodded. There was a nagging bit of pique over one of the cars getting damaged that was calmed by this news. However, Siegfried doubted it would have lasted much longer anyway. He was too busy being grateful that nothing serious had happened to Tristan.

"We would like to keep your brother here overnight," the doctor added. "Just to be sure that there won't be any complications from that concussion. But he should be able to leave by tomorrow, although I would recommend letting him rest for a couple days after that."

"Yes of course," Siegfried nodded. "I'd like to see him now."

"All right, but only for a few minutes," the doctor said. "He does need to rest."

Less than a minute later, Siegfried crept into his brother's room.

He felt some of his worry return upon seeing Tristan lying in the bed, pale and still, with a fresh bandage wrapped around his head. Still, he made sure to keep the doctor's assurances over his little brother's health in mind as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed.

Siegfried watched him for a moment before placing a hand over one of Tristan's. The gesture caused Tristan to stir and slowly open his eyes.

"S-Siegfried?"

"Yes, Tristan, I'm here."

"Where…?"

"You're at the hospital," Siegfried answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet and relaxed. "Just lie still and rest."

Tristan's face twisted in confusion. "Hospital?" Then realization made its way into his features. "Oh god, Siegfried…the car…I didn't mean…."

Tristan had started to bolt up in bed, but the sudden movement caused him to hiss in pain and sink back down onto his back. Siegfried placed a hand onto Tristan's shoulder to calm him.

"It's all right, little brother. Don't worry about it."

"Siegfried, I'm sorry," Tristan babbled. "I didn't mean to be out so late. It's just…Nancy was late getting off work and we were having so much fun. I just, I lost track of time. And then that car…."

"We'll discuss it later," Siegfried said. He closed his fingers around his brother's shoulder and began rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. "Now, get some rest. I'll stay here until you fall asleep."

The combination of Siegfried's soft voice and the comforting hand on his shoulder made it so that Tristan quickly relaxed again, his eyelids drooping. Moments later, his head lolled to the side, and the slow even breathing told Siegfried that his little brother was slumbering.

Siegfried let out a sigh and moved his hand off Tristan's shoulder. He reached down to pat Tristan's hand one last time before moving over to sit on the chair next to the bed. He knew that he had said that he would only stay a few minutes and didn't want to create a fuss. Still, he also wasn't ready to leave Tristan alone yet.

Surely, another few minutes wouldn't hurt? Or even an hour or so….

Three months after Tristan's car accident, Siegfried was just about to go to bed when he got one of those calls that involved Tristan but wasn't actually made by him.

"Mr. Farnon? Yes, this is Metcalfe. I found your brother in my barn and he's in a right state. Fur and feathers stuck all over him. Hair sticking straight up. He's a right mess, he is. I tried waking him up, but there was no doing. I'd leave him there, but well, I need to bring my cows in and he'd get trampled if I did it now…."

"I understand, Mr. Metcalfe and I apologize," Siegfried said, trying his best to not vent his frustration on this patient farmer. "I'll be over to collect him in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Mr. Farnon."

Siegfried hung up and ground his jaw in frustration. He thought that being made to groom and muck out his mare for a month would have inspired Tristan to not get beastly drunk again for at least a little longer than two weeks, but it was clear now that he had underestimated his little brother's love for his usual bacchanal at the Drovers.

Yes, he would need to find even more things to keep Tristan out of mischief. Nine times out of ten, they were only temporary fixes, but Siegfried believed there was always a chance that he'd get through to his little brother eventually.