Siegfried walked for a while around the city, seeing people and yet not seeing them, his breath fogging the air in front of him. The air in the hospital had felt cloying, the sweet smell of…well, he wasn't entirely sure, but after a time he had been able to stand it no longer and had taken his leave, promising to only be away for a short time to clear his head. In truth, however, being away from Lily's bedside brought him no more comfort than being sat with her did. Every time he looked at Tom, he could feel the other man's anger and resentment, occasionally caught him looking at him, clearly with so much to say that he didn't want to unleash in front of his daughter. He knew what would be coming and whilst he did not welcome it, knew he deserved it.
When he arrived back, he found Tom and Mrs Hall standing out in the corridor and a chill suddenly coursed through him. He hurried over to them, terrified as to what knowledge they might impart and yet knowing it was, likely, inevitable.
"We thought we'd give you some time alone with her," Mrs Hall said, as he looked at her questioningly. "The doctor said 'e were going to be operating at three o'clock."
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was twenty minutes to the hour. Twenty minutes. That might be all the time he had left with her. He looked at Tom, at the pinched expression on his face, and knew that there was little point in debating the merits of anything at that moment. There were words that needed to be said and he only had some twenty minutes in which to say them.
"Thank you," he nodded at them both before making his way back to the ward to Lily's bedside. She remained unchanged from the last time he saw her, deep in medicated sleep, looking for all the world as though nothing remotely grave had happened, as though she wasn't hovering between this world and the next. Sitting down beside her again, he took hold of her hand and pressed it to his lips. "My darling…I love you more than you will ever know. I still recall the first time I laid eyes on you, in the kitchen at Windy Hill, when I mistook your father for your husband. Little did I know then that I would one day be able to call you mine, that I would feel for you the way I do." He paused and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "You have changed my life, far beyond that which I could ever have expected. Before I met you, I would never have conceived of being able to love again, and you changed that. You changed everything. You changed me. I wish…I wish that I had been with you that night, that I had gone with you to George Sharp's, that I had been driving the bloody van instead of…drinking myself into a stupor." He shook his head. "I always appear to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Belgium…the Drovers…one so removed from the other and yet…" He paused and kissed her hand again. "I want you to know that I would not have missed the time with you, not for anything. I only wish…I only wish that you can hear me now, that you know what I'm asking of you. Please…please stay with me. Marry me and be my wife, my partner, mother to my children…please. I don't want to do any of it without you by my side."
"It's time to leave."
He jumped at the sound of a female voice behind him and, turning, saw the hard-faced matron standing behind him. "Oh…I…"
"Doctor wants everyone to leave now so that he can prepare."
"I see, I…" he looked at his watch and saw the hands slowly approaching the hour. "I didn't realise how much time had passed."
"No, no-one ever does. On your feet now, sir, if you please."
"Yes, of course…" he looked back at Lily one last time and dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. "Goodbye my darling." Then he turned and walked away, back in the direction of the hospital entrance where he found Tom and Mrs Hall sitting awkwardly. "They're taking her away now," he relayed as they got to their feet. "I suppose now, all we can do is wait." Mrs Hall put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently. He felt comforted by her touch, even though she wasn't who he wished her to be and put his hand over hers to return the gesture. "I should telephone Tristan."
"I'll do it," she replied, "you sit yourself down."
He knew she meant it kindly, but he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious about being alone with Tom knowing, as he did, that Lily's father no doubt intended to take him to task for his earlier abandonment. Before he could object, however, Mrs Hall had disappeared in search of the telephone leaving the two men alone in the corridor. He wished he could ignore the whole issue for the time being, but the atmosphere felt so strained that he knew he needed to address it. "I'm sorry, Mr Bailey."
"What for?" Tom replied, in a tone that belied the question.
"I'm sorry that I left here so abruptly yesterday. I don't expect you to understand my reasons for doing so but, well, I offer my apologies in any event."
"What were they?"
"What were what?"
"Your reasons?"
He paused for a long moment, his brain working overtime to, somehow, put his thoughts in order. "This is not the first time that I've experienced this, the loss of my wife, that is. You're aware that my first wife died whilst I was on active service and…well…I've blamed myself for many years for not being with her, not being able to prevent her death in some way and I suppose…"
"You blame yourself for what 'appened to my Lily."
He finally met Tom's gaze. "Yes, I suppose I do."
"Good. You should."
He paused, somewhat taken aback by the baldness of the answer. He might have expected the other man to couch it in better, softer language, or to at least make a pretence of trying to assuage his feelings. But then, Tom Bailey had never been anything other than direct, so what else had he really expected. "I…"
"As do I."
"I'm…I'm sorry?"
"I said, as do I. You think you're the only one who feels responsible for that girl? I'm 'er father. I've raised 'er all these years, tried to protect 'er and keep 'er safe and I've failed at that." Tom shook his head. "We both love 'er. It's only natural that we feel responsible for what 'appens to 'er."
It wasn't the speech that he had been expecting and he found himself quite mesmerised by the other man's words. It was perhaps the most heartfelt thing he had ever hear him say. "It's hardly your fault," he offered generously.
"'ow is it any less my fault than it is yours?"
"Well…" he sighed. "I encouraged her to take an interest in veterinary medicine. It was me who showed her how to administer treatment. If I haven't done that, she would never have taken it upon herself to go to the Sharp farm and would never have been on that road."
"And if I 'adn't been determined to get drunk at the pub, she would never 'ave been needing to drive the van that night at all."
"No," he shook his head, "My culpability is far greater than yours. It has to be."
"Why? Because it makes you feel better to think that way? Anyway…" Tom shook his head. "Whoever's to blame for 'er 'aving the accident is neither 'ere nor there. What I want to know, is why you ran away."
He felt his cheeks burn, as though he was being dressed down by a schoolmaster and asked to explain his actions. "I felt…feel…responsible and…and I just couldn't stay."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?"
"Both, I suppose. When the doctor told us that she was going to die I just felt so…helpless, like I did all those years ago when I received word that Evelyn was ill and I just…I couldn't face it, couldn't face her. I realise now that it was the wrong thing to do and…and I'm asking your forgiveness."
Tom let out a long breath before replying. "Lily must never know," he said sagely. "You must never tell 'er that you left 'er like that, you 'ear me? She doesn't deserve to know that the man who's supposed to love 'er the most, left 'er."
He paused, wondering if he should address the elephant in the room, namely, that Lily might not survive to live in blissful ignorance of his own doings. But, looking at her father, he saw that he needed to believe that his child would live and it wasn't for him, at that point, to try and persuade him that another course was more likely. "Of course not," he replied. "I would never tell her."
"Good, then we say no more about it. She's going to need us after all this is over, both of us."
"Yes," he sat back in the uncomfortable chair and rested his head back against the wall, hoping against all hope that Tom was right. "Yes, she will."
XXXX
The light grew slowly darker as the time passed, the world outside eventually descending into twilight and then full darkness. The hours ticked by with no word from anyone as to what was happening and Siegfried couldn't help his mind wandering back all those years as he had made his return journey from Belgium, praying with all that he had that Evelyn would recover, unaware that she had already succumbed. The relief at the sight of his own father, waiting for him at the train station, almost immediately lost by the words he had imparted to him.
"I'm so sorry, Siegfried. I'm afraid Evelyn is dead and has been for some time now."
He had allowed himself to be driven home in something of a stupor, almost unable to take him what he had been told, unwilling to believe that it had already happened, angered at the fact that his return home had all been for nothing. It was much like as he had felt driving back to Darrowby the previous day, having been given the news of Lily's imminent demise, the disbelief that it had happened again.
"Did you 'ave words?" Mrs Hall had asked when she had returned from telephoning Tristan.
"Yes, but it's fine," he had replied, feeling relieved at the outcome. "We understand each other."
"I'm glad to 'ear it. Tristan sends 'is best."
"That's kind. I hope he's managing all right."
"Well there was no surgery planned anyway being as what today was supposed to be. I told 'im to just make sure 'e kept the place looking respectable in our absence."
"Chance would be a fine thing," he had allowed himself to chuckle, before the grim reality of the situation had come back to him. He knew he owed Tristan an apology for things that had been said and he only hoped, in the aftermath of whatever happened, he was able to find the strength to say them.
Hours longer seemed to drag by before he heard the sound of footsteps and, looking up, saw Doctor Wright approaching them. Instinctively, he leapt to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest, his mouth bone dry. This was it. This was the moment when he found out the course his life was about to take.
"Doctor…" Tom stood up quickly. "'ow…ow is she?"
"Alive."
Siegfried felt all the breath leave his body in one go, his head swimming slightly, and he was suddenly grateful for Mrs Hall grabbing hold of his arm.
"Then…she's going to be all right? My Lily's going to be all right?"
"Well, we still have to keep a very close eye on her," the doctor replied. "I'm not saying that she's completely out of the woods yet, but I must say, I am hopeful."
"That's…that's wonderful news…" Siegfried heard himself say, though his voice sounded far away to his own ears. "I…I can't believe it…"
"There are, however, several complications."
"Complications?" Mrs Hall asked. "What sort of complications?"
"Well…" Doctor Wright looked pointedly at Siegfried. "I think it unlikely that she will ever bear children given her injuries…"
"That doesn't matter," he said quickly. "Of course, that would never matter so long as she was all right."
"But more importantly…I'm afraid that I have grave concerns for her mobility."
"Mobility?" Tom frowned. "'ow do you mean?"
"I mean, Mr Bailey, I'm afraid that she may never walk again."
XXXX
She had no concept of where she was. Her mind was foggy, unfocused, her brain almost unwilling to find a fixed moment in time to concentrate on. Her body felt as though it were in flight, swooping and diving in the air, changing direction every few seconds and whirling her around. At first, she could only see darkness then, ever so slowly, a pinprick of light appeared, growing bigger and brighter by the second and when she finally felt able to open her eyes, the first person that she saw was a man, unfamiliar to her, leaning down into her face, holding something close to her eyes.
"Ah yes, Miss Bailey. Lovely to have you back with us."
His voice was equally unfamiliar, his presence so close to her as to feel claustrophobic, but as she tried to move her body away from him, she found herself feeling heavy, weighted, and rooted to the spot.
"Don't try to move now, there's a good girl."
His words irritated her, much like Doctor Bellamy's did when he called her 'little Lily' and it was only as her vision continued to clear and she was able to look around that she realised she was lying in what could only be considered as a hospital bed. The man looming over her was clearly a doctor and there were two female nurses stationed at her feet.
"Where…?"
"You're in hospital," he replied curtly. "In York. Look into this light please." She did as he asked, screwing up her eyes as he moved from one to the other, leaving spots dancing in her vision. "Well that all looks fine." He leaned back slightly. "How do you feel?"
It seemed a loaded question. How did she feel? She had just woken from some kind of slumber to find herself in hospital with no recollection as to how she had ended up there. The last thing she remembered was coming down Hoddon Hill…
"What…what day…?" her mouth felt dry, her tongue sticking to the roof, almost preventing her from getting her words out.
"It's Saturday 30th January."
Saturday…her wedding day…she should be at the church or…or married by now.
"I…"
"Try and not exert yourself too much. You've been through a terribly traumatic event. There will be plenty of time to discuss everything in due course." He patted her arm.
"Siegfried…"
"Ah yes, Mr Farnon. He and your parents are waiting outside. They've been told that you came out of theatre and are recovering, but I think perhaps it might be best to send them home for the evening and invite them to return tomorrow."
"My…parents? No…" she shook her head. "No, I…I want to…to see…"
"Well, I suppose a few minutes won't hurt. Matron, would you show them in please?"
One of the nurses bobbed her head and then disappeared from view. The doctor stayed by her side, the reason for which she knew not, until she heard the sound of collective footsteps and her father's face appeared at the bedside. "Dad…"
"Oh, my darling girl…" he said, reaching for her hand, the tears coursing down his cheeks. "I'm so thankful you've been spared my girl, so thankful. Everything's going to be all right. You're going to be all right." He kissed her hand and then glanced down towards the bottom of the bed, as though looking for something. "You gave us all a terrible fright. You shouldn't have taken the van up there yourself in that weather, lass. But you'll know for next time." He nodded sharply, as though he was convincing himself more than her. "Here... Siegfried…see 'ow good our Lily looks."
He stepped backwards, out of her line of vision and, suddenly, Siegfried filled it. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. But he was there, and she felt a warmth fill her body. "Siegfried…" He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "Siegfried…"
"Don't exert yourself," he said, his voice husky to her ears and thick with emotion. "You have to concentrate now on…on getting well." She watched as he too glanced towards the bottom of the bed and she frowned slightly. "I'm so glad you're all right, my darling."
"It's…it's Saturday."
"Yes, I know."
"We…we should be…getting married."
"That can wait," he said, "everything can wait. You just have to focus on getting better."
"I think that's enough for today," the doctor said suddenly. "Lily will be exhausted from all that's happened and there will be plenty of time for conversations and discussions about treatment in the coming days."
"Treatment?" she looked at Siegfried again. "What's…wrong with me?"
"You crashed the van," he replied. "You were coming down the hill from George Sharp's farm. Do you remember?"
"Yes but…but why do I need treatment?" He hesitated slightly and she felt a cold stab of fear. "Siegfried…what's wrong with me?"
"It's…it's nothing serious," he bent and kissed her gently on the forehead. "We can talk about it tomorrow my darling, like Doctor Wright says."
"But…" Before any more could be said, Siegfried and her father moved back away from the bed and she was once again alone with the doctor and nurses, still stationed at her feet. "What's wrong with me?" she asked again. "What do I need treatment for?"
The doctor's lips pinched together. "I'm afraid you're crippled."
The words held no meaning for her. "Crippled? I don't…I don't understand…"
"Paralysed. You damaged your spine in the accident. Chances are, you won't walk again."
