PART 7

Caroline called around early the following morning, just after James and Siegfried had managed to help Tristan upstairs. It had been painful watching the young man struggle – even holding onto the banister and with Siegfried supporting him on one side and James from behind it had been clear that every step was agony for him. The morphine had taken enough of an edge off the pain that he'd managed to get a couple of hours sleep after Doctor Alanson had left the night before, although he'd remained restless and it had become clear when he'd awoke that morning that the painkillers had already started to wear off. Siegfried had given him another dose of morphine, but it hadn't had chance to take effect before they'd started to move him and every whimper which tore through the man had wrenched at Deirdre's heart. She could tell that his brother's suffering was very difficult for Siegfried to have to watch too. He'd done his best to encourage and reassure him, speaking softly into Tristan's ear whenever he paused and faltered on a step – too exhausted to go any further – but he still had a raging fever and she wasn't entirely sure of how lucid and aware of his surroundings he really was.

Callum had offered to take morning surgery, and so she had been busy preparing the breakfast when Caroline arrived. She couldn't help but smile when she heard the key turn in the lock, and Siegfried's wife appeared in the kitchen beside her.

"Oh, Caroline." She exclaimed as she wiped her greasy hands on her apron and the two women embraced. Having spent much of Siegfried and Caroline's engagement up in Edinburgh - except for the few days she'd had off in order to attend the wedding – they hadn't had much to do with each other, but during the little time she had spent with her she had come to realise that she liked her very much. She was down to earth, and kind, and easy to get along with. Sometimes you could know a person for years and never connect with them on any meaningful level, and then there were those who only had to walk into the room and it seemed as though you were instantly firm friends – the two women had connected straight away.

"Deirdre." Caroline smiled, her concern for her young brother-in-law mirroring Deidre's own. It was evident by her tired eyes – masked by a very thin smattering of makeup – that she'd hardly slept the night before. "How is he?" She asked.

"Much the same as last night I'm afraid." Deirdre explained gravely. "Although he seemed somewhat more settled this morning he didn't look good when Siegfried and James helped him up the stairs just now. I think the morphine has helped a little though. Apparently Doctor Alanson advised them not to move him last night but I think he'll fair better in bed and Siegfried says that he's going to sit with him for a while, if you want to go up and see him." She smiled.

Caroline glanced behind her, through the open kitchen door and out towards the stairs. She seemed to be contemplating whether to go up or not, but wasn't sure it would be the right thing for her to do. If Tristan really was as ill as people said he was then the best thing for him now was rest. She had trained as a nurse during the war and understood how important it was that he be kept calm and quiet. It was perhaps best to leave Siegfried to take care of Tristan alone for the moment.

"No." She conceded with a small smile, as Deidre turned back to the stove to stir the eggs, which had become stuck to the brim of the pan. "I think it would be best to leave them to it for now. Tristan needs to rest and I really don't want to disturb him. How about I help you with the breakfast instead?" She suggested. "I must say Deirdre, you look exhausted."

"Oh, I'm alright." Diedre shook her head, as she turned back to face her once the pan had stopped smoking and the smell of the burning yolks had dissipated slightly. "I'm just a wee bit tired that's all." She forced herself to return Caroline's soft smile. "With Helen laid up there was already so much to do, but now with Tristan out of action and Siegfried taking care of him I've been rushed off my feet all morning..." She explained.

Caroline reached out a hand and touched her gently on the elbow. It was a reassuring gesture and one that Deidre appreciated. She breathed a sigh, releasing some of her own pent up anxieties. Caroline's touch was comforting – she had spent all morning trapped inside her own mind, where there had only been room for her and her troubled thoughts. She worried whether Tristan was going to be ok, worried how much longer it would be before Helen was fit enough to get out of bed, she thought about her impossible workload in her absence and wondered whether if she hadn't been quite so tired might she have spotted how unwell Tristan was sooner?

"I think what I'm trying to say," the corners of her mouth twitched slightly as she looked up into Caroline's own smiling face, "is that some help with the breakfast would be great. Thank you."

Her first smile had been forced, but the slight upward curve of her lips as she turned to remove the pan of fluffy scrambled eggs from the stove and proceeded to add fat to a frying pan for sausages and bacon, was genuine. It didn't quite equate to a smile but she had to admit, with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, it was nice to have someone to cook with. The kitchen hadn't seemed such a lonely place since Caroline had arrived.

"No need. It's what I came here for." Caroline's smile widened. She took a spare apron from where they were hung on the back of the kitchen door and tied it loosely around her slim waist as Deidre began to spoon the eggs into a ceramic serving dish, before adding half a dozen raw sausages to the frying pan and returning it to the heat. The fat sizzled.

Caroline noticed the bread which had been left out on the kitchen table and began to cut what was left of the farmhouse loaf into thick, substantial slices.

The two women busied themselves, frying the bacon once the sausages were done, boiling what remained of the eggs and toasting the bread Caroline had cut. There were now two less places to be set at the table for breakfast but Seigfried, James and Callum still had to eat, Helen would take a tray in her room, and the children - Jimmie and Rosie - both had hearty appetites which needed satisfying before school. Deirdre also prepared a smaller tray for Tristan of scrambled eggs and a pot of tea just in case he should feel more inclined to eat something later.

When the food was all prepared and the table laid, complete with teapot, seven sets of cutlery, crockery and coffee, Deirdre then took a tray of sausage and eggs up to Helen, whilst Caroline took a cup of tea with her into the sitting room to wait for her husband.

She didn't have to wait very long, and within a minute of her sitting down she heard his footsteps on the stairs. His were much heavier than either James' or Callum's, but his pace was slower. He paused briefly outside the sitting room door. She heard him hesitate as he appeared to change his mind, and then heard his footsteps again as he made his way into the surgery consulting room. He greeted Callum with a weary 'good morning' as he popped his head around the side of the door before making his way back towards the sitting room.

Caroline put her tea down and looked at the state of the room about her.

"How's he doing?" She asked him when he finally entered, looking rather the worse for wear. His eyes were darkened and heavy from lack of sleep, and his clothes were dishevelled from having spent the whole night curled up in the old armchair. Evidence of his makeshift bed was still evident, there were cushions piled up beside the hearth – at least five or six of them in total – and blankets thrown over the back of the sofa where, she assumed, Tristan had slept.

"My dear!" He exclaimed at the surprise of seeing her and she made a move to get up. He took a step towards her, arms open wide and ready to embrace his wife. "You really didn't need to come." He told her.

"Nonsense Siegfried." She smiled. "I wanted to. I was worried about Tristan, and I wanted to help. Besides you couldn't possibly have expected me not to." She insisted.

Siegfried looked at her, his smile seemed genuine, and he was obviously pleased to see her, but there was a troubled expression upon his face. He guided her back towards the sofa where the two of them stood in silence savouring the moment for a while. The previous evening had been the first they'd spent apart from each other since the wedding, and Siegfried had woken up several times throughout the night expecting to find Caroline beside him. His sleep had been broken and troubled – his anxieties over Tristan preventing him from sleeping too deeply. Caroline could tell that her husband was obviously struggling to formalise the fragmented thoughts swimming around inside his head, and as the two of them sat down she waited patiently for him to speak.

Siegfried sighed.

"Well, there's really not much to report, and very little be done, at least for the moment." He told her sombrely. He looked and sounded weary. Caroline could tell that he was evidently exhausted, and she wondered just how many times he'd felt compelled to get up to check on his brother during the night – knowing Siegfried probably more times than was really necessary.

"I've finally got Tristan settled in his bed, and he's resting now." He explained, removing his glasses and running a hand over his face. "He seems more comfortable now, but he's still running a high fever so it's hard to tell. Deidre's going to take him some breakfast up later though, although I doubt he'll feel like eating very much."

"I know." Caroline told him. "I helped her prepare it."

Siegfried looked at her – silently reaching out a hand and squeezing hers gently. He lightly brushed one pale, bony cheek and she leaned into his touch.

"My dear, you really are an angel." He told her. "I sometimes wonder what I ever did to deserve you."

She smiled.

"Speaking of breakfast..." She thought out loud as she got gracefully to her feet again and made her way over to the side table to pour her husband a cup of coffee. Siegfried rubbed his eyes and failed to stifle a small yawn. She returned with the hot beverage, taking care not to spill any of its hot contents, as she had rather overfilled the cup. She offered it to her husband. Looking down at him, so tired and worn after spending an entire evening taking care of his little brother, she thought to herself that she really did love him very much, and she marvelled at how lucky she was to have him as her husband. He'd told her that he sometimes wondered what he'd ever done to deserve her, and she frequently wondered the same. It had been so long since they'd courted when he'd asked her to marry him, but now she couldn't imagine a life for herself without him.

Although prone to something of a short fuse and fiery temper he was a tender man - a gentleman - and even when truly angry he was never violent. She had never known him to threaten another with either a hand or a fist as some men did when riled, and the most Siegfried was ever likely to raise to another was his voice. Despite his frequent complaints about Tristan he was in fact devoted to his younger brother, and had spoken to her in private on many occasions about how proud he was of him, and of how much he had achieved. Although he'd never said in so many words it was no secret that he loved him dearly, but when she'd asked him on such occasions why he didn't ever voice his opinions to Tristan he'd said that it didn't do to let him know just how much he was valued, and perhaps, she'd later considered, there was something to be said for this. Although she suspected that his brother probably already knew anyway, because it was evident to her that he felt exactly the same way too.

She loved Tristan too - not in the same way that she loved Siegfried of course, or that Siegfried loved his brother - but she found him to be sweet and endearing in a vulnerable sort of way. Whether it was down to simple personality or the fact that as the youngest he'd never had the same level of responsibility growing up that Siegfried had had she didn't know, but he seemed to continually find himself in the most difficult of situations. He was certainly well known amongst the young ladies of the village, who regarded him, for the most part, as a fun and vibrant character to be around - but his slight awkwardness in certain situations also made him something of a figure of amusement for certain sectors of that same village's society – especially the farmers. No malice was meant however, and anything said was only ever meant in the spirit of good humour and jest. Tristan was well aware of what certain individuals thought of him, and tried not to let it get to him for the most part, but his actions the previous evening only served to heighten her suspicions that as he had got older he had tried hard to distance himself from image he'd made for himself in his youth. From what she'd heard there'd once been a time when a mild hangover would have been enough to have confined him to his bed until lunchtime – it could be that his attempts to conceal an injury as severe as the one he appeared to have sustained the day before was an attempt to prove to them all, but especially to his brother, that he was now capable of handling what life had to throw at him, alone.

"Ah, thank you my dear." Siegfried took the cup from her gratefully, the aromatic scent of the caffeine rich beverage helping to wake him up a little, and as she resumed her seat beside him he took a sip of the drink. He a face which suggested that he regarded the liquid as something akin to ambrosia as it slipped silkily down his thirsty throat.

They sat in silence for a while, Siegfried lost in deep thought with his arm wrapped around his wife's slender shoulders as he sipped intermittently at the cup in his hand, and Caroline waited patiently for him to finish the last dregs of his drink.

She waited until she could wait no longer for her husband to say something more, but when she turned to look at him she realised that it was not through any reluctance on his part to talk which had led to his prolonged silence – Siegfried's eyes were closed, and it was obvious that he had fallen asleep.

"What did the doctor say?" She asked him.

Siegfried started awake. Realising what had nearly happened he took a look at the cup in his hands - tilting at a sharp angle and about to spill what remained of its contents into his lap - and placed it on the coffee table before him.

"I'm sorry my dear." He apologised. "I feel quite unable to keep my eyes open."

"It's alright." She smiled.

"It was about two in the morning before Doctor Alanson finally got here." He explained. "By that time I'd already had to give Tristan so much medication that he wasn't actually able to do much else for him. He had a slight tachycardia last night, but I have just had a little listen now and it appears to have corrected itself this morning. All the doctor could really say was that the wound is almost certainly infected, which was fairly evident anyway as Tristan has had a raging temperature all night, but he was able to stitch and dress the leg, and he gave him a sedative to help him sleep. He says he will call around again later to check on him."

"You had to treat him yourself?" Caroline asked – seemingly surprised by this revelation. Siegfried hadn't had time to tell her everything over the phone.

He nodded.

"He was in so much pain." He told her. "I've never seen Tristan in the state he was in last night before. I couldn't just leave him to suffer like that. Some of the drugs we use in vetenary medicine are also used by doctors to treat people. Its highly unethical but we use some of those drugs here, so I gave him pethidine for the pain, penicillin to treat the infection, and a tetanus booster." He explained. "I flushed out and dressed the wound. I did everything I could for him, and Diedre helped." He smiled, in afterthought, not wanting to downplay the role that the young woman too had played in helping him.

"Well, I'm here too now," Caroline returned her husband's smile, "and I'm not going anywhere, so you may as well make good use of me. You and James are going to be busy all day with surgery and your rounds. Helen's still laid up, and at least with an extra pair of hands it should give Deidre and Callum a little more time to themselves. By the way," She added, remembering the two Herriot children still upstairs getting ready for school, "that reminds me, who's taking the children to school?" She asked him.

"Well, it was supposed to be Tristan." Siegfried told her, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully, as he suddenly realised that he hadn't even began to consider the impact of Tristan's incapacity on the running of the busy household. "I suppose James will have to..." He considered, "although I have no idea how he's going to fit it all in. He's supposed to be visiting Mr Biggins' farm this morning..."

"Tell you what, how about I drop the children off at school and then come back and give Tristan his breakfast myself?" She offered. "Then Diedre and Callum can have a couple of hours to themselves whilst you take late morning surgery, and it'll give me a chance to see how Tristan is for myself."

"You know, I am quite prepared to believe that I really don't deserve you Caroline." He smiled wearily at her suggestion, evidently grateful for her willingness to help out. "It is one thing for a woman to take on a husband but to take on the rest of his family as you have done goes beyond what could and should be expected of her."

"Of course you do Siegfried." She laughed. "I knew what I was taking on when I married you. Yours is a family based on more than just blood, I understand that! I like being a part of it. But please, tell me honestly, how is Tristan now? I mean I know you've told me what the doctor said last night, but how is he this morning?" She asked him.

Siegfried looked at her, silent for a moment, and she watched as the smile upon his face slowly began to fade in staggered increments - first the corners of his thin lips relaxed slightly, and then a little more until his mouth set into a grim line across his face. He averted his eyes from hers, rising from his position beside her on the sofa and making his way towards the unlit fireplace. He starred into the hearth, at the chalky black embers, still smouldering within and thought about his brother asleep upstairs, semi-delirious with fever, and restless with pain.

Finally Siegfried turned back to face her, his expression heavy with concern. The truth was that he didn't know how Tristan really was – there was no way to see inside his body, to see the damage being done by the poison in his blood.

"Not good I'm afraid, my dear." He sighed. "He is a little better than he was last night, I think, but as I've already said if you could have seen the state he was in that's really nothing to go by. I'm afraid I think I'm going to have to move back in here for a few days, just until he's back on his feet again."

"I wouldn't have expected any less of you Siegfried." She nodded. If Siegfried hadn't already made his mind up to do so then she would have suggested it herself.

"Listen, are you really sure about all this though?" He asked her. "As you can tell, things are pretty chaotic around here at the moment. I don't like the thought of you being put out my dear. Tristan is my little brother, and as such he is my responsibility, nobody else's, and as you have probably come to realise by now he never makes things easy."

"In case you've forgotten Siegfried," She got to her feet, and made her way over to where her husband still stood, "Tristan is a grown man now, any responsibility you might have felt towards him terminated the day he turned eighteen, and if you ask me he's done a pretty fine job of taking care of himself so far... with the exception of a few minor hiccups." She considered, with a smile. "But no, it's no trouble at all. I did some nursing during the war remember?" She asked him,

"Of course you did my dear, of course you did." He nodded. "I hadn't forgotten you know..."

Caroline looked back at him with an expression dictating that she suspected he probably had - but then she couldn't blame him if this small detail had momentarily slipped his mind. She couldn't however hide the slight hint of amusement upon her face as she watched him try to convince her otherwise.

"Well if you're absolutely sure I can't deny that it would take the pressure off James and Callum a little... and Deidre too for that matter... " He considered. "She's been rushed off her feet all morning, poor girl…

...Now look, I've just changed his dressing, but it's going to need changing twice a day whilst the wound is still infected, and things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. That's the nature of dog bites I'm afraid." He warned her.

She nodded.

"Don't worry Siegfried." She smiled. "I'm sure I'm quite capable of taking care of Tristan. I know things seem bleak now, but he's going to be alright, we'll make sure of that!"

He wished that he had her level of optimism, but he had seen too many poor creatures lose their lives after a dog mauling, and not all of them had died of shock. He'd seen the results of dog bites on a few old farmers throughout the course of his career – inconsequential injuries acquired in the fields from a slightly overenthusiastic sheep dog. These superficial nips didn't seem quite so harmless once they putrefied and the fever set in however.

"I have no doubt that you are my dear." He returned her gesture. "I know you are right, but dog bites can be notoriously nasty. He just worries me so much."

He'd warned her that things were likely to get worse before they would get better. He would prepare her for how ill Tristan really was before he took her up to see him later, but Siegfried didn't have the heart to tell her why he was so worried. Tristan might make a quick recovery, but Siegfried couldn't help but worry about everything that could go wrong. He worried about the risks of the infection, about septicaemia, and gangrene, his immediate concern was for Tristan's fever and trying to ensure that it didn't spike too high, and he worried about his risk of pneumonia. Despite what Caroline had said about any responsibility he might have once felt towards his brother ceasing when the man had turned eighteen Siegfried was still his big brother, and he always would be. He couldn't just turn his feelings on and off like a light switch, and the weight of that responsibility still lay very heavily upon his shoulders.