29 November 1931

Lily elected not to attend church the following day. Primarily, it was because she wanted to be at home when her father returned so that she could break the news to him, both about her engagement and the fact that Siegfried intended speaking with him that afternoon. She would have been lying to herself, however, if she also didn't feel a slight frisson of guilt at the thought of stepping inside the Lord's house after the carnal delights of the previous evening, though she knew that was something she would simply need to overcome. Instead, she flitted about the house, cleaning and tidying and preparing the midday meal in anticipation of his return, but she found herself pausing regularly to stare at the diamond on her finger and relive all the events of the previous night. Sleep had evaded her for hours as she had lain in the dark remembering what had occurred. It seemed as though, if she just closed her eyes, she was back in his arms, feeling the sensation of him near her, against her, inside her…

Just before twelve, the sound of a vehicle broke into her thoughts and, hurrying to the window, she saw her father pull the van to a stop in the yard and climb out. He didn't look too worse for wear after what she could only assume had been an alcohol filled evening, and she could only hope that having spent time with Cousin Joe, he would be in good spirits.

"Afternoon," she greeted him casually as he came into the kitchen. "Did you 'ave a nice time with Joe?"

"It were all right," he replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg. "Something smells good."

"It's just some beef I 'ad left over. It'll be ready soon." She paused, waiting for him to enquire about her own evening, but he simply moved over to the sink, doused his face and hands and then rubbed them dry with the towel. "At least the weather's a bit better today than it was yesterday. Terrible wind and rain all night."

"Aye."

"Joe crack open the whisky did 'e?"

He turned to face her, his expression almost unreadable. "Do you 'ave something to tell me?"

She froze for a moment, almost fearful that he had guessed what she and Siegfried had done. But, realising that there was no way he could know, she simply refocused on the task at hand. "I do, as it 'appens." She stepped forwards and held out her hand for him to see. "Siegfried asked me to marry 'im last night."

He looked at the ring for a long moment before raising his gaze back up to meet hers. "Very nice."

"Yes, it is. 'e said some very nice things too."

"I'm sure 'e did."

"'e's coming over this afternoon, actually," she moved over to the stove and bent to look inside the oven.

"What for?"

"To speak to you, of course."

"Oh aye? What does 'e want to speak to me for?"

She turned back round to face him sat, as he now was, at the table. "Well…'e wants to talk to you about proposing to me."

"Well, 'e's already done that, 'asn't 'e? Can't think why e'd want to talk to me now."

"Dad…"

"I doubt anything I might say would change your mind, or 'is, would it? You've already accepted 'im."

She took a deep breath, reminding herself to remain calm and respectful. After all, in only a few shorts months she would be away from Windy Hill, living her own life as Mrs Farnon. The least she could do was endeavour to make the rest of her time there as civil as possible. "Yes, I 'ave, but that doesn't mean 'e doesn't feel 'e should still speak to you about it. 'e…we…both want your blessing."

He looked at her for a long moment and she found herself holding her breath, desperately praying that he would say something comforting. "Well, I suppose I can least 'ear what 'e has to say. Now then, is it ready? I'm starving."

"Yes, it's ready." She turned back to the stove and began dishing up the meal, unsure what to take from his comment. Would he give his blessing, or would he simply let Siegfried talk and then walk away? Or would he make Siegfried feel bad for having asked her before asking him? The latter thoughts made her feel angry and before she could stop herself, she had turned back around to face him. "And when he does speak to you, 'ow are you going to react? Are you going to accept what 'e says or are you going to make him jump through 'oops to get any sort of response from you?"

"Well I won't know that until I 'ear what 'e 'as to say, will I?"

"You must know. You must know 'ow you're going to react, Dad. You must know 'ow you feel about the fact that I'm going to be 'is wife."

"I don't reckon my feelings 'ave come into this whole thing much, do you?"

"On the bloody contrary," she snapped, thumping a bowl of peas down on the table, "You've been like a spectre 'anging over the whole thing, ever since I started seeing 'im. I want you to be 'appy for me, Dad. I want you to understand that I love 'im and 'e loves me, regardless of whether or not 'e's been married before." She paused and took a breath. "More than that, I want you to recognise that me marrying 'im isn't being done to 'urt you or leave you or whatever it is you think it would mean. I'll never stop being your daughter and I'll always be 'ere if you need me but…but I want to be 'is wife too. They're not mutually exclusive surely?"

He said nothing in response, merely ate the food that she placed in front of him before rising from the table, changing into his work clothes and heading outside, the door banging behind him in the afternoon wind. Alone with her thoughts again, she found herself swinging between anger and despair, tears pricking at her eyes as she cleared up the dishes, before going to the mirror in the sitting room and taking a long look at herself. She didn't want Siegfried to see that she had been upset, didn't want him to think that she wasn't still overjoyed at the prospect of becoming his wife and though she knew his resolve to marry her was steadfast, she couldn't help but worry as to the outcome of the conversation to come.

She had something that she thought she'd never have; the love of a good, decent man and yet, still, she felt unhappy.

XXXX

"Now, you stand your ground," Mrs Hall said as Siegfried pulled on his coat in preparation for the journey up to Windy Hill. "Don't let Tom Bailey say anything that's going to make you change your mind about marrying Lily."

"Mrs Hall, I can assure you that nothing could make me change my mind about marrying Lily, and certainly not anything her father might say. If we have to marry against his wishes, then so be it. She'll have a home here, so it's not at if she would be without lodgings if the worst were to happen."

"Well, let's just 'ope that it doesn't."

"I'm sure everything will be fine. Mr Bailey is, I'm sure, a reasonable man deep down." He replayed the words over in his mind as he made the drive to the farm. There was a certain amount of anxiety coursing through him at the prospect of facing Lily's father, but it was tempered with the memory of how happy she had been to receive his proposal and how willingly she had given herself to him thereafter, a memory he had had little difficult recreating in his mind at various points over the course of the preceding few hours. Despite what he had said about restraining themselves until legally bound together, he couldn't help but think of opportunities when he might be able to be with her again.

When he pulled into the yard at Windy Hill, he caught sight of Lily's face at the window and she had the door open for him before he had even stepped out of the car. "Hello," he greeted her as he entered the kitchen, finding himself surprised, and a little concerned, at the way that she threw herself into his arms. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I've just missed you, that's all."

"In the space of just over twelve hours?"

She pulled back and looked up at him, the expression on her face making it clear that she was not party to his gentle teasing. "'aven't you missed me?"

"Of course I have. I thought about you most of last night after I left. In fact, I could hardly stop thinking about you." He brushed his lips against hers. "Mrs Hall agreed to bake the wedding cake, by the way, and she couldn't have been more delighted for us."

"That's good," she replied, her tone devoid of any real enthusiasm.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he questioned, tightening his arms around her. "Your father, has he…?"

"'s down in the cattle shed. I don't know what kind of reception you'll get. I told 'im we were engaged and, well, it wasn't as though I expected 'im to sweep me up in a congratulatory embrace but…I suppose I 'oped that 'e might react in some way that didn't make the whole thing all about 'im."

"I'm sorry. Perhaps we should have waited until we were both together and then told him. I don't like to think about you having to face him on your own."

"I'm not afraid of 'im," she said quickly, pulling back.

"No, I didn't think that you were." He paused. "I'll go and talk to him and then, perhaps, we could all have a cup of tea together, what do you think?"

"That would be nice."

"Right then," he pulled her into him again and kissed her longingly, his body reacting in the most inappropriate way for a Sunday afternoon. He couldn't help but wish that Tom was still far away, and he could take her to bed again. "Don't worry. I'm sure that everything will be fine and, even if it isn't, it's not going to change our plans, is it?"

"No. I do love you, Siegfried."

"And I love you, my darling. Now, the cattle shed you said?" She nodded and, with a final, brief kiss, he made his way back out into the yard and down the hill round to where the shed was located. Before reaching it, he could hear the gentle lowing of the cows within and, once his eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, he caught sight of Tom at the other end, shifting bags of feed from one corner to the other. "Good afternoon Mr Bailey," he greeted him brightly.

Tom looked up briefly and then looked away again. "Mr Farnon."

"Siegfried, please. After all, we are going to be family." He knew it was a risky opening gambit and couldn't help but notice the other man pause for a brief moment before continuing with the task at hand. "I gather Lily's told you that I've asked her to marry me."

"Aye, she 'as."

"I realise that tradition usually dictates that I should ask your permission before speaking with her but, well, she's not a young girl and…"

"Isn't she?"

The question threw him slightly and it took a moment for him to regroup and recover his train of thought. "No, she's isn't. She'll be twenty-nine next month and…"

"You don't 'ave to tell me 'ow old my daughter is, Mr Farnon. I were 'ere when she were born."

"Yes, quite. I suppose my point was that, well, a woman of that age, as Lily is, really shouldn't need her father's permission to marry. Rather, she should want his blessing, as I know Lily does. As I do."

Tom straightened up and turned around to face him. "You want my blessing?"

"Yes, I do." He hesitated suddenly as the other man began walking towards him and found himself hoping that he wouldn't move to strike him. He knew he could defend himself, if the occasion warranted it, but it would only succeed in making things a hundred times worse. "I hoped that by coming and speaking with you today we could reach some sort of…understanding. I love your daughter, very much, and I know that she loves me and if your concern is about her happiness, as it should be…"

Tom stopped in front of him. "You don't 'ave any children, do you Mr Farnon."

"Uh…no…not yet at least…"

"Yet you see fit to tell me what my concerns for my daughter should be?"

"I…"

"I've raised Lily, on my own, since 'er mother died. I comforted 'er when she were upset. I made sure she 'ad food and clothes and a warm 'ouse to live in. I made sure she went to school for as long as she could. I've provided for 'er. I've known 'er for every single one of those twenty-nine years that she's been on this earth and you've known 'er for less than one. Don't presume to tell me what my concerns should be when you've no idea 'ow a father feels."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have no wish to offend you. You're right in that I have no idea what it means to be a father but, all I meant was that I believe I can make Lily very happy, as happy as I know she can make me and that surely, as a father, that would be what you would want."

"Is your father still alive?" Tom looked at him curiously.

"Oh…no. He and my mother are both deceased."

"But they were alive at the time of your first marriage."

Siegfried couldn't help but detect a slight note of contempt in the other man's tone at the use of the words first marriage and though he wasn't entirely sure where the conversation was leading, elected to play along in any event, for Lily's sake if nothing else. "Yes, they were."

"And were they 'appy when you got married…when was it?"

"July 1913. The twenty-second, to be precise. They were…well…" he considered lying, if for no other reason than to bolster his own aim in having the conversation, but something in the other man's eyes made him believe that Tom would know if he told untruths. "My mother was pleased, but my father was concerned."

"About what?"

"He thought we were too young. I was still at veterinary college at the time and he was worried that I might not complete my education if, for example, my wife had fallen pregnant. His fears were unfounded of course. I had no intention of not qualifying."

"But you got married anyway."

"Yes, he didn't stop us, even though he may have wanted to."

"You must 'ave loved her very much then, your first wife. To go against your father as you did."

He paused, thinking briefly of Evelyn. "Yes, I did."

"Me own parents were glad when I married Rose. She were a cut above me, as it were. I'm not so sure that 'er folks felt the same, especially when I brought 'er back 'ere." He looked around wistfully. "She took to it well enough though."

Siegfried watched him for a long moment, then chose to err on the side of commonality. "I'm very sorry that we both share the same loss. It doesn't seem right somehow, burying someone you love when they're still so young."

Tom met his gaze again. "And yet, 'ere you are, looking to marry wife number two."

"I…"

"Your late wife's memory not sacred to you then?"

Though he had tried to act politely and with deference in their discussion so far, Siegfried couldn't help anger growing inside him at the other man's tone and at the presumption that in seeking to marry Lily he was, in any way, not being mindful of Evelyn. "I'm not sure that I appreciate that comment, sir."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't. I've mourned my wife for many years now and, like you I suspect, thought that there would never be anyone who could ever mean as much to me as she did. But then I met Lily, and everything changed. I love her as much as I loved my late wife, Evelyn, perhaps more."

"So, you don't compare them?"

"Well," he stuttered, seeing Lily's body in his mind's eye. "I…I mean I suppose there are little things that I might think about in comparison, yes, but…"

"And does my Lily come up wanting?"

"No, of course not! Mr Bailey…" he stepped forward earnestly. "Lily is the most wonderful woman that I have met in more years than I care to remember. She is bright and keen and loving and has qualities that would appeal to any man given the chance. I'm very fortunate that she has chosen to bestow all her affection on me and if you are concerned that I will hurt her, or let her down, or somehow not be the husband that she deserves, then you need not be. I will treasure your daughter until my dying day, of that I give you my word."

Tom said nothing for a long moment and Siegfried found himself holding his breath in anticipation of where the conversation might go next. "I've grown used to 'aving 'er 'ere," he said finally. "Knowing there's someone in the kitchen, working around the 'ouse…makes it seem as though her mother's still alive somehow. As though I never lost 'er."

"I can appreciate that. Living in our home after my wife died seemed very strange for a long time," he admitted, thinking back on those terrible days. "There were times I was convinced she was in another room and that she would appear in front of me at any moment…but Lily would never see you lonely, and neither would I."

"But she would live with you."

"Yes, naturally."

"So, it's all right for 'er to be your maid and cook as opposed to mine?"

Siegfried winced slightly, recalling the words he had thrown at Tom when the other man had accosted him outside the church after his disastrous dinner with Lily, so many months ago. "I shouldn't have said what I did to you that day but, well, you weren't exactly pleasant towards me either."

"My lass were upset at the time. You 'ad said something to 'er and, as 'er father, it were my job to make you aware that I wasn't 'appy about it."

"I can understand that. Truth be told, at that time I felt so guilty contemplating loving anyone else, as though, as you suggest, I would be betraying Evelyn's memory." He paused. "I'm not proud of how that must have made Lily feel at that time and I can understand how you might be unable to fathom falling in love with another woman after the death of your wife. For a long time, neither could I, a very long time. But as I said, Lily has changed everything for me in the most wonderful way." He thought back on Tristan's words, so dismissed at the time, and yet so full of truth. "Whilst I will always have a place in my heart for Evelyn, as I should, I have to believe that she would want me to be happy."

"What about all this nonsense about Lily 'elping you at your surgery?" Tom folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't believe it to be nonsense. As I said, Lily's bright and eager and she's a quick learner too. She's already picked up so much from the time we've spent together. I really think this is something she could be very good at."

"So, you don't want 'er as a traditional wife then. You want 'er to work."

"Well, only if she wants to. I want Lily to do whatever makes her happy, Mr Bailey, whether that be working with me or being in the home. But I already have a housekeeper, a very good one, so there would no need for her to take on that role if she'd rather not."

"You'll be expecting 'er to bear you children though, won't you?"

Though he was slightly taken aback at the personal nature of the question, Siegfried couldn't help but feel as though they were approaching the end of a very long tunnel, with light in sight, and mindful of not derailing the train, as it were, chose his words carefully. "I would like nothing more than to have a family with Lily, but it is not the be all and end all of the overall life I long to share with her. Mr Bailey…" he added, before the conversation could become any more personal. "As I said before, Lily doesn't need your permission to marry me, but I don't think she will ever be truly happy unless you give your blessing. Surely seeing her unhappy is the least thing either of us want."

Tom shifted his feet slightly from side to side before moving past him towards the entrance to the shed. Unsure whether or not he should follow, Siegfried remained where he was, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, hoping what he had said had had some positive impact on the other man. "Seeing as you're 'ere," Tom said eventually. "Can you take a look at one of my fillies? Something's not quite right with 'er back leg."

"Oh…uh…yes, of course. Does that mean…I mean…"

"One step at a time, eh Siegfried? One step at a time."

XXXX

It had been Lily's intention to do some washing whilst Siegfried and her father were talking, but in truth she had neither the inclination nor concentration and instead found herself walking back and forth from the window, hoping to catch sight of them and gauge the outcome of their discussion. On what seemed like the hundredth time of her looking out of the window, she suddenly saw them both emerge around the corner from the cow shed, but rather than head for the house, they turned towards the nearby paddock where the horses were. Her father unlocked the gate and they both ventured inside, over to where a young filly, Dawn, was tied to the fence. She watched as Siegfried bent and ran his hand along the horse's leg before lifting her foot and looking at it, her father pointing something out as he did so.

Unable to bear not knowing any longer, she grabbed her coat from the hook, opened the door and ventured out into the yard. As she approached the paddock, she could hear the two of them talking together, their voices measured, discussing the problem at hand.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, stopping at the gate.

"I just thought I'd ask Siegfried to 'ave a look at Dawn, seeing as 'e were 'ere," her father said, turning to look at her.

"Siegfried…" she echoed, surprised at his use of the other man's given name. "Does that mean…?"

"Looks like an abscess," Siegfried said, straightening up. "It should be fairly easy to drain and she should be right as rain in a few days."

"Well, that's reassuring to 'ear."

"My bag's in the car. I've got just the thing." He moved towards her and Lily found her eyes roaming his face, looking for any clue as to what had transpired between them.

"Well?" she asked quietly as he reached her.

"One step at a time, darling," he replied, dropping a swift kiss on her cheek. "One step at a time."

Before she could say anything further, he loped off in the direction of the car and she turned back to where her father was watching her. "Dad…"

"Be 'andy 'aving a vet in the family." He paused. "If you want to marry 'im, lass, I'll not stand in your way."

A wave of relief swept over her and she took in a sharp breath, grabbing onto the gate for support as she did so. During the time they had been talking, she had convinced herself that it had all gone wrong, that her father had made a case for the marriage not to take place, and that Siegfried had agreed. She had seen him, in her minds eye, telling her that he was sorry, that he couldn't marry her and asking for the ring back. Although she had hoped so much for good news, the reality of it made her feel almost weak. "Dad…"

"I'm assuming there won't be any charge."

She turned back around to see Siegfried reappear behind her, his bag in his hand and a smile on his face. "No," he said, "None at all."