23 April 1932

Every time the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of Joan, the post lady, Siegfried felt his heart leap like a child waiting for a gift. He would rush to the door, beating back Mrs Hall as he did so, eager to see what rich reward he would receive. Most often than not, he was simply greeted with letters of a more mundane variety. After all, there was only so many times a person could write to another, but on the days when he would see an envelope addressed to him in her handwriting, he would clutch it to himself and scurry away into the surgery to read it.

After hie reunion with Lily, it had only taken a few days for her transfer to Bexley to be arranged. By the end of the week, she had been gone in a flurry of desperate kisses and fervent promises of correspondence. Of course, there was the telephone and, in the six weeks or so that she had been gone, he had spoke to her regularly, but there was nothing as thrilling as receiving a letter.

Initially, they had started off general enough. She talked about her new surroundings, the doctors and the other patients and he had found himself gladdened by the fact she appeared more upbeat and optimistic. She had been receiving regular therapy and appeared to be making progress, much to his delight. In return, he talked about some of the cases he had had, and recounted Tristan's latest university exploits along with warm words from Mrs Hall. As time passed, however, the letters became more personal, overflowing with love and longing to the point where he found himself blushing to read her very words. After reading and responding to each one, he would place it in a small wooden box he kept under his bed, the words for no-one else's eyes but his own.

Gala Day had come and gone again, and he had found his mind wandering back to the previous year when they had only just met and yet had taken tea together. He remembered the formality of that encounter and how he then asked her to have tea with himself and Mrs Hall. It all seemed so long ago…so much had changed.

That particular morning, he found himself eagerly awaiting the ringing of the bell, not having received a letter from Lily for almost a week. Tristan had been home for the Easter holidays and was due to return to Edinburgh in a few days time. He seemed rather lacklustre at the prospect and Siegfried often found himself worrying about what was going on in his brother's head. Case in point, the man in question was sat opposite him at the table, his gaze focused on his food, with no real conversation to offer.

"Well, it's a lovely day today," Siegfried commented. "What are you proposing to do?" Tristan shrugged. "You can come out on my rounds with me if you'd like. We're quite busy today."

"Maybe."

"Come now Tristan, I'm sure you can inject a little more enthusiasm into proceedings than that!"

"I'm sorry we can't all be as joyful as you are big brother."

"Is something worrying you, Tristan?" Mrs Hall asked, pouring some more tea. "You've not been yourself of late."

"It's nothing."

"Well, it must be something," Siegfried pressed. "When you arrived, you seemed so upbeat and full of optimism. Now you're spending your days looking like the proverbial cloud of doom."

"Thanks very much."

"Come on, out with it! There's no problem that I'm sure we can't solve."

"You can't help me."

"Try me."

Tristan lifted his head. "It's Margaret."

"Margaret?"

"Yes, my…well I'm not sure what to call her now. Not since she's made it very clear how she feels about me."

Siegfried paused, his antenna raised. Tristan had never spoken about anyone called Margaret before and he could only conclude from his brother's demeanour that whatever relationship they had, it was currently not going well. "And how does she feel about you?"

"Not as I feel about her."

"I see…is this Margaret…a romantic interest?"

"Of course," Tristan replied, "what else would I be talking about?"

"One never knows with you. So, tell us about her."

Tristan sighed. "She lives down the road from the university. I met her at a gathering. She's lovely. Small, dark hair, dark eyes…" he looked mournfully into the distance. "For a time I thought we might be something to one another, but now…"

"How old is she?" Mrs Hall asked.

"Seventeen."

"Oh Tristan…" Siegfried laughed, "She's but a child, as are you."

"I'm nineteen!" he retorted. "And besides, you weren't much older when you married Evelyn and she was only seventeen!"

"Yes, and we were both too young," he replied before a sudden thought occurred to him. "You weren't thinking of proposing marriage to her, were you?"

"No, of course not. That would be foolish, wouldn't it, whilst I'm still studying. Even if it is what you did."

"You don't have to follow entirely in my footsteps."

"Well, there's no danger of that now, is there? She's made it very clear that she's no longer interested in me. She's found someone else, far richer and more dashing than I could ever hope to be." He toyed with his food. "So that is that."

"Well then she's not worth it, is she?" Mrs Hall opined. "Any woman would be lucky to be on your arm, Tristan Farnon, and don't you forget it. You'll find the right woman one day, mark my words, just like your brother 'as."

Siegfried opened his mouth to respond, when the doorbell rang and he leapt from the table, hurried down the hallway and wrenched it open.

"Morning Mr Farnon," Joan said, her eyes twinkling. "A few letters for you today."

"Thank you," he replied, glancing down and delighting at seeing Lily's handwriting. "Thank you very much." He marched back into the kitchen, tossing the unimportant correspondence on the table. "Thank you for breakfast, Mrs Hall. I'll be retiring to the surgery for a moment to read my letter before rounds." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he turned on his heel again and rushed into the surgery, closing the door firmly behind him before tearing open the envelope. As he unfolded the sheets, he caught the familiar scent of her perfume wafting from the pages and his heart sang.

My darling Siegfried,

I'm sorry it's taken so long to respond to your last letter, but things here had been very busy. I continue to make progress and have managed to traverse the distance between my bed and the window several times, albeit with some assistance. Dr Brown seems confident that I shall continue to improve over time and that I may even be walking completely unaided within months. How this news gladdens my heart and no doubt yours too.

He has suggested that you might wish to come for a visit over the next few weeks if life at Skeldale House would permit. Arrangements can be made for us to go out together and I would so love to see more of the area than I had so far. It's quite a tranquil place and I long to visit the sea. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see you.

I ache for you, my darling, in a way that I had never thought possible. I yearn for your kiss and your touch and long for the time when we can be truly joined once more. I think often of those stolen moments at Windy Hill, Skeldale House and the cottage on Lord Hulton's land. Each time you have made me yours and I have never felt happier. I long to feel the sensation of you next to me, your hands, your lips. I long for you to take me to that place of exquisite pleasure again and again. I yearn for the time when it need not be secret, and we may indulge freely as we see fit. The very thought alone makes me blush and causes perspiration to break out across my brow.

Tell me that it won't be long, my darling. Tell me that we will be joined soon, in every wonderful way imaginable.

All my love,

Lily

XXXX

She had never considered that she might come to love a place in the same way that she loved her home village. Darrowby had been all she had ever really known, apart from her holiday to Scarborough, but Bexley was proving to be a most charming spot. Ashworth House, the building where the unit was housed, was an old sandstone building on a quiet street surrounded by lush gardens. The weather had been uncharacteristically calm over the last few weeks and she had been lucky enough to spend a lot of time sitting out in the pleasant weather, listening to the birdsong. There had also been a few occasions where there had been outings to the beach and, even though she had required to be pushed in a chair, it had been gratifying to feel the salty breeze on her face. It was as though she was living again, for the first time in so long.

Of course, it wasn't all rest and relaxation and she had been trying hard to improve her mobility with positive results. In her last letter to Siegfried, she had told him that she had managed to walk the length of her room, albeit assisted, the short journey making her feel happier than she had in a long time. Things could only improve particularly if, as she had suggested, he come to visit her. That thought alone brought a gladness to her heart that had been missing for so long. How foolish she had been to send him away, to refuse to speak to him, to lie wallowing in misery for as long as she had done. Since their reconciliation, she had been invigorated with a new sense of purpose. She would walk normally again, and she would be his wife.

"You've got that silly smile on your face again," Betty, one of the nurses said, as she brought her some tea. "Don't tell me you've been writing to your intended again."

"I wrote to 'im the other day," she replied with a laugh. "I 'ope 'e received it. I told 'im 'e would be able to come down for a visit."

"Oh, that would be nice," Betty replied, pouring the tea and handing her the cup. "I'd like to meet this young man that you speak about so often."

Lily smiled and sipped her tea feeling, not for the first time, a pang of regret at how she had treated Mary, the nurse at the hospital in Skipton. She had been so rude to her on so many occasions and said such terrible things about her and Siegfried. She had considered writing Mary a letter to apologise, but embarrassment always stopped her.

There were so many things she regretted, so many things that, at times, made the thought of a return to Darrowby quite daunting. Everyone knew her and had done her entire life. They would all have an opinion of her, especially now, and part of her couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to start a new life, somewhere far away from the Yorkshire village she called home. Bexley was pretty enough, and she did enjoy being near the sea in a place where no-one knew her. She could be anyone here, anyone at all.

She wondered what Siegfried might think of it, whether he would consider her notion simply a flight of fancy. Reaching into the drawer next to her bed, she pulled out his last letter, so full as they always were of warmth and love. Reading between the lines, she knew that nothing would make him happier than to have her ensconced at Skeldale House, putting into motion all the plans they had had before her accident and yet, part of her wondered if that would be the right thing to do. Wouldn't it be better to start again somewhere else? Siegfried was so talented that any town or village would be lucky to have a vet of his competence and perhaps Tristan might prefer the idea of practicing somewhere that had a bit more life about it than a sleepy Yorkshire village.

She drained her teacup and put it back into the saucer. It certainly couldn't hurt to broach the subject, especially if Siegfried was going to come and visit her soon. It wasn't something she felt they could discuss over the phone or in a letter; face to face was preferable.

Until then, she would just continue to work on improving herself. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to see his face when he arrived, and she walked to greet him.

1 May

"Now, are you sure that you've got everything?"

"Mrs Hall do stop fussing. I've travelled across countries and seas in the past so I think I can manage a train to Bexley."

"It's two trains, remember. You have to change at…"

"Yes, yes, yes I know!" Siegfried flapped at her. "I am quite well aware of what I'm doing, thank you. I'm not some wet behind the ears schoolboy who doesn't know how to read a train timetable, you know."

"That is not what I was suggesting," Mrs Hall replied, "but I know 'ow upset you'd be if you missed your connection or…"

"Well, I might miss if it you keep blethering on at me!" he exclaimed. "Are you going to take me to the station, or should I walk?"

She shook her head good-naturedly at him. "Just let me get my 'at and we can be on our way."

He hovered at the door of the house, shuffling from foot to foot and checking his watch every few seconds, conscious of the time moving on and taking him closer and closer to the moment when he would see Lily again. He had arranged for cover at the practice, and he knew that Mrs Hall would keep a firm hand over things. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt happy to be leaving it behind. "Mrs Hall!"

"I'm coming!" she replied, reappearing in front of him. "Right, shall we go?"

"I rather wish we would." He hurried down the steps towards the car and opened the driver's door.

"I thought I was driving?"

"Well, you can drive back again."

"Do you think me incapable of getting you there on time or something?" she asked, slipping into the passenger seat beside him and jerking slightly as he suddenly roared away. "There's no need for all that."

"All what?" he asked, turning sharply around the corner.

"Driving like a maniac. It won't do Lily much good if you don't make it there at all now, will it?"

He quietened at her words and lifted his foot marginally from the accelerator. It certainly would do no good at all if they were in an accident, not to mention the fact that it would be bitterly ironic under the circumstances. But he couldn't help his excitement and was quite at a loss as to what he was going to do on two trains for all the time that lay ahead. He had the newspaper and some books, but he doubted his concentration would be there.

"You mind and give 'er my love," Mrs Hall broke into his thoughts again. "Tell her that I can't wait to see 'er back 'ere again, especially if we get to plan the wedding all over again."

"Indeed."

"She'll be pleased to see you."

"I do hope so."

"Of course she will. You're meant to be together, you two."

"Indeed we are." He finally pulled into the station and switched off the engine, leaping out before she had the chance to say anything else and dragging his suitcase from the boot. "Now, you will keep an eye on things, won't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"And if Tristan calls, make sure that he's not playing the fool up there in Edinburgh. I don't want to hear that he's shirking his studies."

"Mr Farnon, you'll only be gone a week. I'm sure that the 'ouse will still be standing and Tristan will be the same as 'e always is when you get back."

"Yes, quite." He paused and then kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Well, goodbye then."

"Goodbye, safe journey."

He barely heard her sentiments as he made his way onto the platform, put his suitcase down and checked his watch. By his calculation, he had seven minutes before the train arrived. Seven minutes until he was on his way and only a few hours until he would see Lily again. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms, kiss her, and talk about their future together. She would be mistress of Skeldale House soon enough. He could feel it.

XXXX

She felt a certain nervousness as she waited for him to arrive. Though she was as sure of her feelings as she had ever been, the weeks that had passed with no physical contact had been difficult and she couldn't help but worry whether he would still feel as he had done once he saw her. Perhaps, in a different setting, he might not feel the same. She was determined that when he did see her, she would be on her feet, walking, and she had been practicing for days with the sticks that the unit had provided. It was slow progress but, coming from a place where it had been feared she might never walk again, it was almost like a miracle. Betty had helped her to put on one of her nicer dresses and had done her hair for her so that she vaguely presentable, and less like someone living in an institution.

When they had spoken on the phone about his impending visit, Siegfried had told her that he had taken a lodging nearby and she couldn't help but wonder if there might be a reason for her to visit there, if it were permitted by both the unit and his landlady. To be completely alone with him…the very thought made her blush in the same way as both writing to and receiving letters from him did. All past restraint seemed gone. All the misgivings she had had in the run up to their wedding about being 'caught out' seemed consigned to the past. Besides, the doctor had told her that conceiving a child would be unlikely now, given her injuries.

In the flurry of emotion, pain and anxiety she had experienced since her accident and the terrible notion that she might never walk again, that secondary piece of news had almost been forgotten. Why should she care about never becoming a mother if she was never likely to walk, never likely to be with a man, any man ever again? It was only since her reunion with Siegfried and thoughts of the future that she had allowed it to occupy space in her brain.

For so many years, she had considered herself unlikely to ever be in a situation where children would be considered. Part of her had locked that notion away, only allowing it free rein when she had met him. Now, with everything that had happened, she found that, in reality, the notion of never being a mother didn't perturb her in the way that she thought it might. She and Siegfried had never discussed it, and though he had spoken often of wanting children with her, she could only hope that she alone would be enough for him now.

And besides, if they were to make a new life away from Darrowby, who was ever to know anything about their past hopes and dreams? A new start would mean new ones.

"What time is your Mr Farnon due?" Betty asked, coming back into her room. "Didn't you say his train was due to get in at three o'clock?"

"Yes," she looked at the clock on the wall that read almost twenty past. "'e should be 'ere any minute."

"Well then," Betty said with a smile, "let's get you up and along to the day room then. I'm sure he'll be very surprised by how well you've done since you've been here."

"I want to be able to walk to greet 'im," Lily said, reaching out for her sticks and then allowing Betty to help her rise from her chair. "It's important."

"I know it is," the other woman replied, giving her a gentle squeeze. "And walk you shall."