PART 5
Siegfried's breathing slowed, and he too must have fallen asleep. When he opened them again he glanced at the clock - only twenty minutes had passed but he heard the front door open and close, and the sound of muted voices echoed through the empty hallway.
He stood stiffly, stretched, yawned, rubbed his sore and heavy eyes and made his way over to check on Tristan. Finding him still sleeping however he leaned in closer to check on the leg. The deep crimson patch which stained the dressing was now bigger than it had been a few minutes before, and as he gently palpated the tender area Tristan moaned and stirred restlessly.
It didn't look good.
"Sorry old chap." Siegfried whispered, but Tristan remained oblivious to his brother's apology as he slept on. Siegfried wondered what could be keeping the doctor and hoped that he wouldn't be too much longer. The wound now urgently needed stitching. Tristan had lost quite a lot of blood over the course of the past few hours, and Siegfried had come to the conclusion that after all this time it wasn't going to clot of its own accord. It was too deep and too raged and he would continue to lose more until the wound was closed with stitches.
"Shhh, little brother." He simpered as Tristan whimpered and flinched. The sounds of the voices in the hall were getting louder, and Siegfried, worried that they might disturb his brother's rest, headed out to hush the two returning men.
James was helping a rather inebriated Callum out of his coat when he opened the door. The young Scotsman was protesting loudly, as James struggled to free one flailing arm and then the other, whilst also doing his best to quieten him.
"James I am quite capable of removing my own coat!" Callum was saying. "Believe it or not I am a big boy now. I can take care of myself!"
"Really?" James asked him. "You do surprise me Callum, and do you really think that the way you've been carrying on tonight is the way a grown man should behave?"
"Oh, leave me be James!" He moaned.
"No Callum, I will not, and will you keep your voice down! You're going to wake the whole house!" James exclaimed.
Siegfried cleared his throat, and a floorboard creaked underfoot – attracting the two men's attention.
He noticed that Callum's eyes were swollen and bloodshot when he turned, as though he had been crying, but chose to overlook the matter. He was still very angry with his young colleague, but the man was evidently still very upset. They had all been rather stretched of late, perhaps the younger members of the team a little more than most. If Callum and Deirdre hadn't been quite so busy in their respective ways, and therefore able to spend a little more time together, then perhaps Callum wouldn't have had reason to take his frustrations out on Tristan, and his brother's condition might have been spotted much sooner.
Both men opened their mouths to speak simultaneously when they saw Siegfried, one still slightly drunk and acutely aware that he had a lot of explaining to do, and the other only concerned about his friend. Siegfried quickly raised a hand and put a finger to his lips to silence them, and as both men correctly interpreted his signal and backed off slightly he took one more look at his younger brother through the crack in the open door - just to make sure that he could still see the gentle rise and fall of his chest - and drew it quietly closed behind him.
"How's he doing?" James asked.
"Well," Siegfried frowned, scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully as he turned to glance at the closed door behind him as though concerned that their hushed voices might carry and disturb Tristan's rest. "He's certainly felt better." He explained. "He's feeling rather sorry for himself, which given the circumstances is only to be expected I suppose... I'm afraid the Butterworth's dog Timmy bit him on a visit earlier this afternoon, the wound is almost certainly infected. He's running a high fever, and in quite bad shape, but things could have been a lot worse."
James looked surprised.
"We're waiting for the doctor now." Siegfried explained. "I've done everything I can for him but he's lost a fair amount of blood and he's in an awful lot of pain."
"I'm sorry Siegfried." Callum apologised, complexion growing a few shades paler - his broad Scottish accent emphasised by the intoxicating effects of the alcohol in his system. "I had no idea he was so ill, if I had known there is no way I would have been so sharp with him."
"Well you didn't exactly give the boy a chance to explain did you Callum?" Siegfried asked. Despite his resolve to remain in control of his anger seeing Callum in his drunken state had left him rather struggling to maintain a calm façade, and if it hadn't been for Tristan sleeping in the next room he would have almost certainly been inclined to come down on him rather harder. "Coming down on top of him like that, taking all your frustrations out on him, it really wasn't on you know!"
"I know..." Callum nodded.
"I mean," He scowled, "I understand your frustrations but it's not exactly Tristan's fault that you and Deidre haven't had the chance to spend enough time together since she arrived."
"I know..." Callum whispered, hands in his pockets and eyes drawn to something of seemingly profound interest to him at his feet. He looked like a naughty schoolboy who'd just been reprimanded by a disapproving Head Master James thought.
"And you really were quite out of order speaking to Deidre in the way you did..." Siegfried continued, "I should bang your heads together the way you've both been carrying on the past few days... you've got a good woman there Callum, anyone lesser would have left Tristan to walk home, even in the state he was in!"
"I know... I know, and I am genuinely genuinely sorry Siegfried." Callum explained. "It's just that my pride had been hurt by something Deidre had said, and seeing Tristan standing there, well, I don't know, something in me snapped... sometimes it just feels as though the whole world and his mother is against us at the moment!" He paused, hiccupped, and looked slightly sick for a moment, but took a deep breath and managed to regain control of the alcohol fuelled nausea. "But believe me you can't make me feel any worse than I already do!"
"Well you know Callum," Siegfried sighed, "if you're going to let such petty little squabbles between the two of you cloud your judgement, then that really does lead me to wonder about the effect this is likely to have on your professional conduct?"
"What is that supposed to mean Siegfried?" Callum asked, eyes suddenly clouding with a drunken thunder which was uncharacteristic and unbecoming of a man of such usually mellow character - but possibly not wholly unexpected considering the skin full he had consumed. His temper was precariously frayed.
"Well we can't risk you allowing your personal life to interfere with your professional relationship with the clients can we?" Siegfried asked, seemingly oblivious, or perhaps entirely unconcerned by the change in Callum's mood. "We have a reputation to uphold within this district."
"I can assure you Siegfried I would never allow anything like that to happen!" The young man exclaimed.
"Well perhaps..." He considered, "but you might not necessarily be aware of it..."
"Look, just what exactly are you getting at Siegfried?" Callum growled.
"Nothing my dear boy, absolutely nothing at all, just that maybe a couple of days off couldn't hurt at the moment..."
"A couple of days off?"
Callum suddenly stopped. He faltered, unsure of the significance of what he had just heard. James watched his friend's expression morph from one of intense anxiety into one of hope, before switching back to confusion again.
"You're owed some holiday aren't you?" Siegfried asked him.
"Well yes...but..." Callum faltered.
"But nothing my boy." He shook his head. James looked from Callum and then back to Siegfried again, and smiled. He knew what the older man was getting at, even if Callum did not. He'd known Siegfried long enough now, and had himself been on the receiving end of the other man's generosity on more than one occasion. His temper may have been a fierce one when provoked, but his heart was just as big as his wrath could be sudden and unpredictable. "If tonight has taught us anything," Siegfriede continued, "it should be how over stretched and overworked we all are at the moment. Perhaps you and Tristan a little more than the rest of us. We have been rather guilty of putting upon you both recently."
"You know I don't see it like that Siegfried, I like the work." Callum insisted.
"I know you do Callum," Siegfried laughed good naturedly, "we all do. Lord knows with the hours we work and the pittance we get paid we wouldn't be here if we didn't, but as much as one loves the job they do they simply must find the time to relax... Now, Deidre's here for another week isn't she?" He asked, almost as though in an afterthought.
"Yes..." Callum nodded.
"Of course you'll understand that we can't give you the whole week off," Seigfried considered, in part conferring with his two younger colleagues and in part thinking out loud to himself as he considered their options carefully, "no, that would leave the rest of us spread far too thinly, especially with Tristan out of action for a while..." He thought, "but, let's see, how would you like to take the end of the week off?"
"Seriously Siegfried?" Callum asked, unable to conceal the small smile which crept across his face in relief - both for the fact that he wasn't about to lose his job, and the knowledge that there were now a few days off looking set to come his way in the not too distant future.
"Well I would hardly be asking you if I didn't mean it, would I?" Siegfried smiled.
"Yes, but how will you cope?" He asked.
"Well, we'll find a way Callum, it's only a couple of days." The older man dismissed the younger man's concerns with a casual wave of his hand. "Tristan obviously isn't going to be of much use for the next few days, but there's me, and there's James. I'm sure we can cope without you for that long."
"Well I never thought I'd feel so happy to learn that I'm not entirely indispensable." Callum grinned. "Siegfried I don't know how to thank you. I really am enormously grateful!"
"Don't mention it my boy!" Siegfried smiled. "We could hardly have had you moping around the surgery for the next few weeks could we? A depressed vet hardly looks good in front of the clients does it?"
"No I suppose not..." Callum agreed. "Look, I really am so enormously sorry about Tristan, I'd like to apologise to him if that's alright? May I see him?"
"Of course." Siegfried nodded. "He's resting at the moment, but do go in, I was just about to make a pot a tea, would you like one? Or perhaps a strong black coffee might be more appropriate?" He chuckled, still smelling the sweet aroma of stale alcohol on Callum's breath. This was a lie of course, the thought of making tea hadn't even entered into his mind until now, and he had no idea why he'd suddenly suggested it - but he supposed that it would give him something to do while Callum looked in on Tristan, and so he decided to go along with the idea all the same.
"Thank you Siegfried," Callum nodded, "but tea would be grand."
"Very well." Siegfried nodded. "How about you James?" He asked.
"Oh, no thanks Siegfried." James smiled with a shake of his head. "I'm rather tired actually. I think I fancy an early night if you don't mind, and I really ought to check on how Helen is doing."
"Oh of course you must James, of course you must!"
"You'll be staying here tonight I take it?" James asked.
"Yes," Siegfried nodded with a frown, rubbing the back of his ear,, "I'll give Caroline a call to let her know, but I think I'd better stay. I want to be here to hear what Doctor Alanson has to say, and it's doubtful that Tristan will be in any fit state to let him know what I've given him when he finally arrives. Knowing that boy's luck he'd end up getting himself an overdose!"
"Just out of interest Siegfried what have you given him?" James asked. He had of course received the very best education in the practices of vetenary medicine, and the array of drugs which could be used to treat pain and infection in livestock and common domestic pets. He was aware that whilst some drugs were not compatible with the human physiology – which although similar in some ways to that of many other mammals, was also significantly different enough to render many common medications dangerous if they were introduced into a man's bloodstream – there were those which were suitable for both animal and human.
The key was knowing which drugs were safe, and which were likely to prove potentially fatal, as well as correctly gaging the right dose to give. Enough had to be given to provide sufficient relief of symptoms, without overdosing the patient. As vets they faced this quandary everyday but were used to working with creatures either significantly smaller or significantly larger than the average man. Siegfried was a brilliant vet however, not only a horse specialist meaning that he was responsible for the health and wellbeing of some of the most financially valuable animals in the district, but also a rather adept scientist and skilled mathematician. James saw no reason why he wouldn't have been more than capable of turning his skills and knowledge to the practice of human medicine, and was quite curious to know the course of treatment he had followed in his brother's case. James didn't think he would have had the confidence to take charge of the situation as Siegfried had done if he'd been in his place, but then Siegfried was far more experienced than he.
"Well," The older man sighed, a little thrown by James' question. The ethical concerns surrounding a vet treating any man were very rarely voiced out loud, but each of them knew that it was deeply frowned upon, and at worse could lead to a lot of trouble for the individual. James realised that Siegfried could have construed his curiosity as him questioning his professional integrity.
"Of course I wouldn't recommend that as vets we turn our hand to the practices of treating people as a matter of course," he explained, "there being considerable differences between man and animal which we are all well aware of, but the poor boy was in a considerable amount of pain, and I am damned if I am going to stand back and watch my little brother suffer!" He exclaimed, his tone growing ever more heated as he felt pressured to justify his actions. "God knows how long Doctor Alanson is going to be... or if he's even in the area. At this time of the year he could have been called to attend a patient anywhere within a ten mile radius of here, and nobody has any way of getting in contact with him! Meanwhile Tristan is still bleeding, and in pain! Well, it's just not good enough James, not good enough at all!"
James deduced wisely that Siegfried's emotions were obviously still very raw, and his temper a fragile force to be reckoned with. He had managed to keep a rein on his anger, and even exercise restraint and forgiveness in Callum's presence, which in James' opinion had been nothing short of admirable under the circumstances. He wasn't sure he could have exercised the same level of self-control had it been him in the same situation. He was an only child, he knew nothing of what it felt like to have a younger brother to look after, but growing up he'd always dreamed of having a sibling or siblings someday, and he thought that he could possibly imagine what it might be like if he tried to put himself in Siegfried's shoes. He had struggled as it was to conceal his own annoyance when a rather inebriated Callum had returned to the Drover's just as James had been about to leave, and had continued to drink himself into an intoxicated stupor.
"I understand Siegfried, and I doubt any of us would condemn you for doing the best by Tristan." James assured him, trying to reassure him that he had meant no criticism by his asking. "If I was in Tristan's shoes I'm sure I would not discriminate if I were in the presence of a vet or a doctor," he explained, 'I would just be grateful to whoever was on hand for helping me and thankful that they knew what they were doing. As vets we do all at least have a basic grasp of the differences between human and animal anatomy. There's absolutely no reason why you could not, nor should not have done everything you could for Tristan given the nature of the circumstances. I was mealy curious, that's all."
"Yes... of course... I am sorry James." Siegfried hesitated, realising his mistake, and he smiled. He'd allowed his emotions to run away with him, and as a result he had spoken out of turn, and inadvertently allowed himself to take his frustrations out on the wrong man. He sucked in a sharp breath, and was quiet for a time. When he finally continued to speak it was in a hushed and apologetic tone, and significantly less defensive.
"I'm a little overwrought..." He apologised. "I shouldn't take it out on you. Please forgive me."
"I quite understand." James nodded.
"Obviously it's been a difficult one, as you can imagine," Siegfried considered after a moment, "as I'm limited with what we have on hand here at the surgery that I've been able to give him, but I've given him penicillin to treat the infection in his leg, and a low dose of pethidine for the pain, but that should wear off in the next couple of hours, at which point he will probably need some morphine to get him through the night. I've also given him a tetanus booster, just to be on the safe side."
He was however secretly beginning to worry that this may not have been enough and that the severity of the injury went far beyond what they would be able to carry on treating at home. He was concerned that Tristan might have little choice but to go to hospital - not that he was currently prepared to voice his concerns out loud. He would reserve judgement until Doctor Alanson arrived, but he'd hoped that Tristan might have shown some small sign of improvement by now. The Pethadine should have kicked in but apart from the fact that he continued to sleep relatively soundly, which was due only in part to the low dose of opiate in his blood stream, his temperature was still up, he was deathly pale and sweating, but he had still been shivering slightly beneath the blanket when Siegfried had last looked in on him.
James observed the look on Siegfried's face, and it worried him.
"It's bad isn't it?" He asked his friend.
"Yes James, I'm afraid it is." The older man replied.
"How bad is he do you think?" James pressed him, but he could already tell by the grave expression on Siegfried's face that the situation wasn't good.
"Well," Siegfried shook his head, "I'm not a doctor James, and I'd much prefer to reserve judgement until Doctor Alanson arrives... all I can say," He continued cautiously, "is that the wound is deep, Tristan has received a large injection of bacteria into his bloodstream from the dogs saliva, he didn't receive treatment until quite a few hours afterwards which means that any infection almost certainly has a few hours advantage on us, he is already beginning to show signs of the poison having spread to his blood, and the wound is still bleeding."
"I see." James sighed.
It was at that moment that both men heard the sitting room door close behind them and turned to look up to see Callum, his expression one of mixed guilt and concern. Siegfried glanced at him and observed his posture, his head and shoulders hanging slightly lower than usual in a dejected stance, and one hand thrust limply into his pocket. His eyes were still sunken but the swelling had gone down and they had lost their blood red and blotchy hew, but he looked markedly paler than he had done a few minutes before. He glanced back once at the closed door behind him, before turning again to Siegfried.
"Is he awake?" Siegfried asked, but Callum shook his head.
"He looks so ill." He mused, his face scrunched up into a concerned frown. "He hardly moved once the whole time I was in there, not even when I called his name... it's as though he didn't even hear me... he just carried on sleeping."
The young man seemed a little confused - the last time he had seen Tristan he'd appeared fine, perhaps a little pale and slightly disorientated but perfectly lucid, and Callum couldn't recall having observed him limp. There had been nothing suggestive of the injury he'd sustained, carefully concealed beneath his trouser leg, nor to indicate the infection that he'd been incubating. He could only presume that when the symptoms had struck they had come on suddenly and hit him hard - but Callum still couldn't reconcile himself with the fact that had he not been so quick to jump down Tristan's throat then there would probably have been some small sign of sickness about him. Deirdre had noticed something was wrong immediately. She had taken one look at the exhausted man - whom even Callum had to concede had looked entirely done in - observing the faint blueish tinge to his skin after hours spent stranded up on the moors, and feeling the cold of his hands and fingers as icy blood flooded his veins, but without any form of medical training she had no way of knowing what to look out for. The poison had slowly invaded Tristan's system over the course of the past few hours and Callum couldn't help but feel as though if he hadn't allowed himself to become so caught up in his own anger and frustration then he might have spotted something where she had not, and the infection could have been caught a little sooner.
Siegfried nodded.
"Yes… well…" He responded. "That's partly down to the drugs I've given him to help him sleep and make him feel a little more comfortable… the pethidine I have given him for the pain is probably making him feel a little sleepy, which is what I had hoped for," he explained, "but most of it Callum is down to the fact that he is very sick. The bite is deep, and as I've just been telling James here it's still bleeding. I have done everything I can, I have flushed the wound out with saline but I am reluctant to close it until the doctor gets here as I don't want to run the risk of stitching in any infection. We have already established however that it is unlikely to clot of its own accord and so will continue to slowly bleed until such a time that it can be closed. Perhaps however sleep is the best thing for him at the moment."
"Siegfried I can't help feeling that this is all my fault." The young man sighed.
Siegfried frowned. "How do you make that one out Callum?" He asked. "You didn't force the Butterworth's dog to bite him, or wish for his car to break down up on the moor did you?"
"Well... No..." Callum faltered in thought. "But..."
"The way I look at it now Callum," Siegfried stopped him, "is that it is no longer a question of who is to blame, if indeed it ever was. Tristan must take some responsibility for actively trying to conceal what happened to him - although Lord knows why he'd have wanted to - but we all spent time with him this evening and so therefore are all guilty of missing the early warning signs. Deirdre was the one who brought him home and so therefore the one who spent the most time with him, and I myself spent a good hour with him before he collapsed and didn't notice anything amiss. I've always thought Tristan to be quite the open book, but I've got to say, on this occasion, he concealed his pain rather well. As far as I can see the only person truly above reproach in this matter is James."
James looked up, swallowing hard at the mention of his name. He wouldn't actually say that Siegfried was entirely correct on this point - he could after all have done more for his friend when they'd heard what had happened to him that afternoon. He could have returned home with Siegfried, to make sure that Tristan was alright, and dragged a sulking, stinking Callum along with him rather than staying to keep watch whilst he continued to poison his blood and pickle his liver as he drowned his sorrows in the sickly sweet scented liquor. It had of course been on Siegfried's suggestion that he had stayed, but he hadn't put up much resistance in this regard, and he was after all a man with a mind of his own.
But Tristan had got himself into numerous scrapes before. He was like a cat with nine lives, seemingly always bouncing back from the brink of potential disaster without so much as a scratch to show for his ordeal. Nobody had had any reason to think that this time would be any different. Indeed if it hadn't been for the Butterworth's dog, Timmy, James had no doubt that Tristan would have recovered rapidly from his ordeal. Once home he would have changed out of his wet clothes, bathed in hot, soapy water, revelling in Deidre's attentive care whilst savouring a glass of something warming - perhaps a whiskey, or even partaking of a glass of Siegfried's best brandy - as he felt the pleasant burn of the liquid as it trickled down the back of his throat, and the tingling of his fingers and toes as the blood was slowly restored to his freezing extremities.
He had been surprised to discover just how far removed the reality of the situation had been from his imaginings.
"So what do you plan to do about the bleeding?" James asked Siegfried.
"Well," He considered, "I'll just have to play it by eye I suppose James... but if the doctor doesn't arrive soon I will have to apply a second layer of bandages, and if that doesn't work then I'll have no choice but to completely re-dress the leg as the blood has already started to show through.
I don't know what we're going to do about the turbuculian testing now though." He thought to himself out loud. "Tristan can't go now, that's for sure. He's going to need time to recuperate. You certainly can't leave now James with Helen laid up as she is, and I'm needed here. Callum's only just come back, so it wouldn't be fair to ask him to go out for a second time..."
"Well, actually, I've just been thinking about that Siegfried," Callum explained, "and if Deidre can get some more time off work I've been wondering whether that might not actually be the answer to some of our problems."
"Deidre come with you you mean?" Siegfried asked.
"I'll have to speak to her first of course." He emphasised, making it quite clear that his intentions were not yet set in stone, but that he might seriously consider taking Tristan's place in Ireland if it meant the possibility of spending some much needed time away from Scaldale with Deidre. He had no idea whether after his behaviour tonight she would even consider the suggestion a viable possibility, he had said some very hurtful and inexcusable things to her and couldn't be sure that he even still had a relationship to speak of, but he hoped that she loved him enough to try and put his appalling display of drunken idiocy behind her - because despite his words of earlier he loved her very much indeed, and the thought of losing her now filled him with dread.
The work was hard, and meant long hours. It would mean going out very early in the morning, and returning late at night smelling of antiseptic and animal faeces. He would be cold, hungry, and tired - and he knew this might lead him to bouts of short temper. He wasn't even entirely sure that this would leave them much better off than they were now - but Deidre wasn't going to be with him the whole time. She would need to return to Edinburgh to work, and there were always going to be weekends, which without his usual additional commitments to surgery hours would be theirs in their entirety to do as they pleased.
"After my behaviour tonight she may not even want to come with me." He considered gravely. "I have a lot of making up to do."
"Well, at least you have sense enough left to realise that much." Siegfried said. He glanced up the stairs, wondering whether Deidre was still with Helen or whether she had herself now retired to bed for the evening. He couldn't imagine that she had already gone to sleep - she had been so worried about Tristan - but to his knowledge she had not been down in over half an hour. He wondered whether she was aware of Callum's return home and was doing her best to avoid him.
"You might start as you mean to go on." He advised him. "Deirdre's upstairs."
Callum followed Siegfried's gaze and swallowed hard. A look of anxiety came over his face and both men wondered what he was afraid of - whether it was her wrath, or her reaction to his behaviour which frightened him more.
"You have to face her sooner or later Callum." Siegfried smiled. "And if you do your best to make it up to her I might be persuaded to consider your offer. Deirdre's a good woman, I don't like to see her upset."
Callum struggled to return the older man's gesture. A very small smile - so slight that it might be misconstrued as a grimace, or even overlooked completely - curled the corners of his lips.
He looked like an animal caught in headlights James thought, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. He glanced from James to Siegfried nervously for reassurance, but after a brief moment of weakness - during which time he looked to be considering whether to go upstairs and face the woman he loved or run away - he bravely took a deep breath and he nodded.
"On second thoughts I think I'd better skip that tea." He gulped. His voice sounded strained, stifled by the lump in his throat.
Siegfried nodded, quite understanding.
"And I'd better check on Helen Siegfried if you don't mind." James added as he too dismissed himself. "I'll be down to see Tris when the doctor has left. Best let him rest for now." He nodded.
Siegfried lingered at the bottom of the stairs as he watched the two men ascending to the upper levels of the house. Callum looked anxiously back at James, who placed a hand upon the small of his friend's back and propelled him firmly up the stairs.
