17 April 1931

Lily woke earlier the morning of the gala feeling significantly better than she had done the previous afternoon. Fortified by tea and sympathy from Mrs Hall and Mr Farnon she had been grateful to the former for driving her back to Windy Hill and making pleasant small talk with her father. It had taken the sting out of any comment he might have felt it pertinent to make on her choosing not to return home the moment that her delivery had been made and, as a result, he had remained uncharacteristically quiet on the subject. In truth, she had enjoyed the time spent at Skeldale House though she wasn't entirely sure whose company she had preferred.

Thankfully the sun was shining, and her father was in a good mood as he gulped down the breakfast she had prepared whilst he was feeding the beasts. Years of living with him had taught her that his mood had less to do with the weather, however, and more to do with the prospect of spending the entire day in the Drovers, knowing that she would be there to drive him home come supper time. Though it should have irritated her, she found that in fact she didn't mind and that she was looking forward to spending some time in alternative company.

When they arrived in the village, spirits were high and when Tom loped at speed towards the pub, Lily let out a sigh of relief and slowly started to wander her way around the various stalls that had been set out both in the square and down on the common. She purchased some scented lavender pouches, some eggs and a hat that she thought she might consider wearing to church one morning, before arriving at the tea tent where she had agreed to lend a hand serving for a few hours.

"Good to see you Lily," Mrs Norris said happily when she saw her. "I reckon we'll have quite a crowd in 'ere today."

"I reckon so," she replied, tying an apron around her waist and busying herself with the tasks at hand. The conversation between herself and the other ladies flowed freely, and she found herself laughing and joking as though she had no cares at all. It almost made her long to return to the ladies' group that she had forsaken some months earlier due to her father's pressure. Perhaps it was time for her to ask if she might be able to start attending again.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Miss Bailey."

Turning from what she was doing, she came face to face with Tristan Farnon and his friend George, both grinning at her from the other side of the table. "Mr Farnon," she replied, smiling in response.

"Oh please, call me Tristan," he insisted. "Mr Farnon makes me sound as old as Siegfried and he's nearly forty."

"Tristan, then."

"And may I call you Lily?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she wiped her hands on her apron. "Will you be stopping for tea?"

"No, I rather think not," Tristan replied with faux melancholy. "George and I are rather fonder of something a bit stronger than tea. Not that you don't have a lovely spread here." He glanced at George and then looked at her again. "My brother says that you make lovely scones."

She felt herself pink slightly at the compliment. "It 'as been known."

"Then I shall make sure to purchase some from the baking stall before they all sell out."

"That's very kind." She paused. "Will your brother be joining you?"

"Alas he's been called up to the Alderson farm this morning," Tristan replied. "Something wrong with one of their calves. He hoped that he might be finished in time to come down later though. Shall I tell him that you're looking for him if I see him?"

"No!" she exclaimed hurriedly. "No, no, not at all. I was only…wondering, is all. I just wanted to thank him again for his kindness yesterday. And Mrs Hall, of course."

"Of course," Tristan grinned at her again. "Well, we must dash. It was lovely to see you again Lily."

"And you Tristan," she replied, watching as he and George turned and headed back out into the sunshine.

"'e's a cheeky sod," Mrs Norris said, coming up behind her. "All that grinning and talking nonsense. And 'is brother so dignified by comparison."

"'e's young," Lily replied. "I suppose we 'ave to make allowances for age, don't we?"

"Hmmm…listen to you. You're 'ardly over the 'ill, my girl."

"Well…" she said to herself as the older woman turned away. "Sometimes I wonder."

The rest of her time serving passed quickly with time even allowing for her to slip out of the tent to watch the newly crowned Gala King and Queen proceed down into the common carried atop a milk float. She was just wiping her hands and preparing to untie her apron to head back out into the sunshine herself, when she turned suddenly and saw Siegfried speaking to someone just inside the entrance way. For a moment she paused as his gaze met hers and as he bid his companion farewell and came towards her, she suddenly couldn't help but hope fervently that he hadn't run into Tristan or, if he had, that the younger man hadn't said anything that could be considered inappropriate.

"Hello," he greeted her. "Working hard?"

"I've just finished, actually," she replied, removing her apron and laying it on the side. "Duty done for the day, as they say."

"Splendid. Then I'm just in time."

"Just in time for what?"

"For me to ask you to take tea with me."

"Tea?" she echoed stupidly.

"Well yes, they do serve tea here I'm led to believe. Unless I've stumbled into the wrong tent somehow."

"No, you're in the right place," she laughed. "And the tea is very good."

"Well then, you have no excuse, do you?"

She paused and looked at him, at the friendly earnestness of his expression, and found herself thinking about what her father would say if she did decide to take tea with him. He wouldn't approve, of that she was certain, and the anxiety must have shown on her face as Siegfried's smile slipped slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If you think it to be an inappropriate suggestion…"

"No, of course not," she replied hurriedly. "It's just…" she paused again, wondering how on earth she could even begin to explain about her life, the restrictions placed upon it and how hard it was to sometimes find the strength to put one foot in front of the other when every day was the same hellish drudgery. Not that any of those things were matters of which he needed to know, of course, or would likely want to know, but as her mind raced to find an excuse to refuse his kind offer, she also found herself thinking about her father, no doubt three sheets to the wind in the Drovers, enjoying himself and a small part of her began to feel ever so slightly rebellious. "I'd love to 'ave tea with you, Mr Farnon, thank you."

Siegfried's smile returned again. "Excellent. Shall we sit over here then?" He waited for her to come around the counter before directing her to a vacant table and pulling out her chair for her. Whilst the action was kind, she couldn't help feel a slight sense of embarrassment and suspicion that everyone in the tent would be talking as a result. As he ambled back over to the counter to order, she took the chance to glance surreptitiously around and was gratified to see that, contrary to what she had been afraid of, no-one was watching her at all. "I must say you look much better today than you did yesterday," he commented upon his return. "I was quite concerned when you left the house last night, though you did seem better than earlier."

"Oh, those episodes are generally short-lived. I feel much better today."

"I'm pleased to hear it. For your sake, at least." He smiled at her again and she felt a slight, unfamiliar flutter in her stomach. She had never taken tea with a man before, as ridiculous as that would most likely seem to many women, and part of her wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to act.

"Your brother was in 'ere earlier," she remarked conversationally when the tea arrived.

"Oh Lord, I hope he didn't disgrace himself."

"Not at all. 'e said that you 'ad to go up to the Alderson farm this morning. Something about one of their calves?"

"Yes, poor little thing. Some problem with his lungs. I'll be surprised if he survives until next week."

"That's a shame."

"Yes, it is, and you never really get used to the death of an animal no matter how long you practice for."

"Did you always want to be a vet?" she asked, figuring that it was as safe a subject to land upon as any.

"Yes, ever since I was a boy," he smiled. "My father was a vet and I spent all my childhood days with him at his surgery, learning about how to care for the animals, diagnosing what was wrong with them quickly and efficiently. He could be a hard taskmaster, but he was an excellent teacher. He was delighted when I was accepted to veterinary college. His biggest wish was that we go into partnership together. Farnon and Son." He paused and looked away wistfully.

"And did you?" she asked. "Go into partnership?" He met her gaze again and his expression looked so pained that she was immediately sorry that she had asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry…"

"No, not at all," he smiled again. "We worked together for a year or so prior to his death but…well…we hadn't seen eye to eye for some years before that due to…personal differences, so it was a difficult time. After he died, I intended to remain and take over his practice but, well, it can be hard for a son to try and fill his father's shoes. I thought that a fresh start all round might be for the best so, when I saw that the practice here was for sale, it seemed like an excellent opportunity, even if I have had rather large shoes to fill."

"And do you like Darrowby?"

"Very much so. I like the sense of community the village seems to evoke. Events like this, for example," he looked around the tent. "It's lovely to feel part of something."

"Gala day is one of the 'ighlights of the year," she agreed. "It's a good opener for Darrowby Show in August."

"Do you know, Mrs Hall said the same thing, but I took her tone to be somewhat ominous."

"Oh, well that's because every year at the show, there 'as to be an attending vet. By all accounts, it's not an easy role."

"I see…no doubt the task shall fall to me at one time or another then. No wonder there was a look of the devil in Mrs Hall's gaze."

"No wonder indeed," she laughed.

"I hope Tristan grows to like it here too," he said, somewhat wistfully. "I didn't really consult him when I bought the practice. I suppose I just assumed that he would fall in line as he has done with everything else in the past. Perhaps that's not entirely fair of me."

"'e seems to be enjoying 'imself and 'e's very friendly so I doubt 'e'll 'ave much difficulty in settling in."

"I do hope he didn't say anything inappropriate to you earlier?" he looked at her curiously.

"As I said, not at all. It's good to see a young lad so full of life."

"Yes, I suppose so…"

The conversation continued amiably and, once they had finished their tea, they left the tent together and began walking slowly across the common, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. When she eventually glanced at her watch, Lily was amazed to see what time had passed. She had never before conversed so easily with a man in any setting and though part of her was reluctant to bring their time together to an end, she knew that if she didn't get her father out of the pub before too much longer then she wouldn't be able to get him out at all.

"I wonder…" Siegfried said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts. "Would you like to come to dinner at the house one evening next week?"

"Oh…" she stuttered, somewhat taken aback. "Well, I…"

"With Mrs Hall and I, of course," he added hurriedly. "Tristan and George will be back at school, thank the Lord, and though I do enjoy her company, and am sure she enjoys mine, it would be nice to have a different face at the table. What do you say?"

"Well…" it was the kindest offer that had been made to her in a long time, perhaps ever, and she would have been lying to herself if the prospect of a meal that she hadn't cooked herself, away from Windy Hill, didn't seem overwhelmingly tempting…but there was her father and what he would say… "It's very kind of you to offer. It's just that…" she paused again, feeling nothing short of pathetic at her own misgivings. "I'd 'ave to check with me father and, well…"

"Surely he wouldn't begrudge you one meal," he said. "It must get very dull for you at home every night."

"Oh, it's not dull no, it's not that. It's just…well, me father likes things just so and well…" she broke off and looked at the ground, feeling the hot prick of tears at the corner of her eyes. Twenty-seven. She was twenty-seven years old and a nice man had invited her for dinner and there she was, stalling like a schoolgirl who didn't want to anger her irascible father and who was clearly incapable of putting together a simple sentence.

"Forgive me," Siegfried said softly, moving a little closer to her. "I shouldn't have asked. I have no wish to upset you."

"It's not you," she lifted her head again, her vision misting slightly. "It's a very kind offer and I would be delighted to come, but if I could just check with 'im first before committing meself then…then that would be for the best, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he met her gaze. "Shall we say Friday? You can let either myself or Mrs Hall know at some point before then whether you would be able to come?"

"Thank you," she nodded. "I appreciate that."

He held her gaze and she couldn't help but feel her face starting to turn crimson, for what reason she wasn't entirely sure. "Are you heading home now?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, once I've got me father out of the pub," she laughed and blinked hard, pushing away the threatening tears.

"You don't intend walking all the way back to Windy Hill, do you?"

"No, we've got the van. 'e'll probably be in no fit state to walk far anyway."

"I see. Let me accompany you to the pub then, seeing as I'm heading that way myself anyway."

She opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. A little more time in his company would hopefully weigh favourably against the time she would have to subsequently spend in her father's and she found her spirits lifting slightly again as they walked together in companionable silence. Once they had reached the Drovers, however, and the sound of raucous laughter spilled out the door, Lily felt her chest tighten with anxiety.

"I'd best come in with you," Siegfried said. "I would bet money that Tristan and George will be right in amongst the fray." He held the door open for her and, as soon as she stepped inside, she found herself assaulted by the fog of smoke and the smell of whisky and sweat. In one corner of the room, there was a loud sing-song taking place led, as far as she could see, by Tristan and George. "Oh, good Lord…" Siegfried moved away from her and, turning, she caught sight of Tom lounging drunkenly against the wall in the other corner.

"Come on Dad," she said, with as much cheerfulness as she could muster under the circumstances. "Time we were going 'ome."

"Give over," he grumbled, lurching for his glass and bringing it up to his lips. "I've only been 'ere an 'our."

"You've been 'ere over six 'ours."

"Well another couple won't do any 'arm. 'ere, Henry, get us another one, will you?"

Lily turned to where Henry Dinsdale was standing at the bar and shook her head. "Please don't, Mr Dinsdale. You've 'ad enough, Dad."

"Don't tell me when I 'ave or 'aven't 'ad enough, my girl," Tom replied. "You're not me mother."

"No, but it won't be this in t'morning when you 'ave to get up for the beasts now, will it?" She stooped over him. "Come on, I'll get you 'ome and you can 'ave some supper." Putting one hand under his arm she tried to pull him to his feet, his own weight and drunkenness hindering her process. "Come on Dad…"

"I'm staying 'ere for another pint!" he insisted. "Henry'll see me 'ome later."

"'e bloody will not. 'e's as drunk as you are if not more so. Neither of you'll be fit to move if you stay 'ere. Come on!" With as much energy as she could muster, she pulled him up and out of his seat. He swayed dangerously against her and, for a brief moment, she thought he might knock her to the ground, but then he steadied himself, his arm going around her shoulder.

"You're a good lass, our Lily," he muttered, "a good, good lass…"

"Do you need any help?"

Looking up, she saw Siegfried standing with Tristan and George and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. "No, it's fine."

"It's not a problem," he continued. "Where are you parked?"

"Just around the corner but, honestly, I can manage. It's not the first time and it'll not be the last," she panted under her father's weight. On the one hand, it would be useful to have some help but, on the other, she didn't want Siegfried to see this part of her life.

"Well these two are heading straight back over to the house before they fall down," he remarked, turning to glare at his brother and George who were giggling in the background. "So I'll walk you back to your van, make sure your father doesn't squash you en route."

Lily didn't have the energy to protest further as it took all she had to manoeuvre her father around the swell of patrons and out into the fresh air. As they emerged into the sunshine, she felt him grip her tighter and it was all she could do to keep him upright.

"He likes his liquor then, your father," Siegfried commented, taking up position on the other side.

"You could say that." She was grateful when he elected not to say anything further and, minutes later, they managed to deposit him somewhat ungainly into the passenger seat of the van. Straightening up and slamming the door, she turned back to face her companion. "Thank you. You didn't 'ave to come with me."

"Well I could hardly let you manhandle him all by yourself. I would imagine he's not exactly light even without a belly full of whisky. Will you be all right at the other end?"

"Yes. I'll leave 'im in the van until 'e sobers up enough to come wandering inside for 'is tea. That's usually the best way." She paused, finding herself somewhat desperate to explain. "'e's not like this all the time, you know. I mean, 'e likes a drink but it's only occasionally, like on Gala day, that 'e gets as bad as this. Usually it's just a few whiskys at night before bed. Been like that ever since me mother died."

"I'm sorry," Siegfried said. "It can't be easy."

"No, I know 'e finds it 'ard missing 'er as 'e does…"

"I meant for you. It can't be easy for you."

Lily met his gaze and, once again, felt the unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. "That's kind of you to say, thank you."

"Well…I hope you have a pleasant evening."

"Yes, and you." As she turned to get into the van, she made a sudden decision and quickly turned back. "Mr Farnon?"

"Yes?"

"Friday night for dinner would be lovely, thank you."

A smile spread across his face. "Splendid. I'll have Mrs Hall make all the arrangements. Thank you for agreeing."

"Thank you for asking," she smiled in return and then climbed into the van. As she slid it into first gear and pulled away, he lifted his hand and she returned the gesture before turning and driving out of the village towards home feeling just that little bit lighter.