28 January 1932

"This line is terrible!" Siegfried exclaimed, holding the telephone receiver away from his ear and wincing at the loud crackling emanating from within. "I'm afraid I didn't hear what you said last. Tristan? Tristan, are you still there?"

"Yes," his brother's voice sounded back to him, "Can you still hear me?"

"Only just. You sound like you're calling from the moon, not Edinburgh."

"I'm sorry, I was just saying that my train's been delayed. I'm not going to be leaving Edinburgh now until tomorrow afternoon, if at all. I have a terrible feeling that I might miss the wedding on Saturday."

"Oh, don't say that. How bad is it with you anyway?"

"The snow's about a foot deep," Tristan replied. "And it's still falling. The talk is that the train won't be able to get through unless it stops later. What about with you?"

"Oh, it's been coming down all day," Siegfried replied. "I imagine we'll have it as bad as you by morning." He paused. "It would be awful if you didn't make it, but I'd rather you were safe."

"Well, I'm not going to be driving the train myself, you know. I'll just be sitting in a carriage snoozing. All being well I should be with you at teatime tomorrow. Can you have someone collect me? I know you'll probably still be too drunk to drive."

"I'm not sure exactly what you think I'm going to be getting up to this evening, but I'm fairly confident that I'll be fit to drive by tomorrow teatime. Anyway, worst case scenario, Mrs Hall drove during the war, so I assume she could handle a little snow."

"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself tonight. It's your last night of freedom, you know. Well, almost your last night. I'm surprised you didn't elect to have your stag party the night before the wedding. Isn't that the more traditional option?"

"Yes, usually," he mused, mindful of the conversation he had had with Lily where she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want him hungover at the church. It had seemed safer all round, as a result, to have the gathering an evening in advance. "I'm sorry you're going to miss it, but we'll be able to have a small drink together tomorrow night." Static crackled again and he once again pulled the phone away from his ear. "Tristan? Tristan!" The line went dead and, shaking his head, he replaced the receiver back in its cradle.

"Problems?" Mrs Hall enquired, coming out of the kitchen.

"No, just the blasted phone line playing up. It was Tristan."

"I gathered that."

"His train's been delayed until tomorrow afternoon because of the weather. He said it's pretty bad up there."

"I can imagine. If it keeps up, you'll not be able to travel for your 'oneymoon."

"Yes…" he sighed. "I know Lily will be disappointed if that happens, but I suppose it can't be helped. I did wonder…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm obviously going to be at the Drovers this evening, lamenting the inevitable end of bachelorhood, and whilst I'm hugely confident that I'll be fit to drive by tomorrow evening…"

"You want me on standby to pick Tristan up from the station."

"Would you mind?" he looked at her hopefully. "He said he should be here by teatime."

"No, of course I don't mind," she smiled indulgently. "I know what you men are like when you get started on the whisky. Just so long as you're sober for Saturday."

"Oh, you've nothing to fear on that score. Is Lily still coming over this evening?"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to seeing 'er and she's bringing 'er cousin, Emily, with 'er. She's a quiet girl by all accounts but Lily said she's looking forward to being bridesmaid. Not to mention they 'ad a good time together in Scarborough last summer."

"I'm glad she found someone she felt she wanted to act as bridesmaid. I was concerned for a time that she felt quite down about the matter." He paused, thinking back on the conversations he had had with his fiancée where she had lamented on her seeming lack of friends. "I hope, once we're married, she finds a little more confidence in herself to re-establish old acquaintances that have perhaps been allowed to fall away over the years."

"I'm sure she will," Mrs Hall said encouragingly. "Marriage to you is going to bring out the best in 'er, I 'ave no doubt. Now, Mr Brown's been on the phone again about that bull. 'e says there's still something wrong with its leg and 'e asked if you could go up. I said with the weather closing in that it might be difficult…"

"No, not at all," he replied cheerfully. "I don't think it should be too bad heading up that way, not if I go now. Are you needing me to pick up anything on my way back?"

"No, we're fine. You'd better 'urry if you want to make it back to get ready for your big night."

"Really, Mrs Hall, you make it sound like I'm going to some sort of exotic location when, in reality, it's merely the Drovers."

"Indeed it is," she replied. "But I want you to enjoy it. You deserve it."

"I'm not so sure I deserve any of what's about to happen," he admitted. "Do I deserve to be as happy as I am? Do I deserve to have Lily as my wife?"

"Yes, you do," she insisted. "And the two of you are going to be very 'appy together, I can feel it."

XXXX

The snow swirled thickly in front of the van as Tom picked his way carefully down the road from Windy Hill towards the village. Squashed next to him in the seat, Emily on her other side, Lily looked out at the darkness and felt an overwhelming sense of trepidation. The weather had been relentless of late and her fear of having a snow-bound wedding looked like it was starting to come true. It wasn't that she didn't consider it to be picturesque in a way, but when she had spoken to Siegfried on the telephone earlier, he had told her that Tristan's train was delayed, and he feared missing the ceremony altogether. Though his tone had been upbeat, she had recognised a note of sadness within and she hoped, beyond all hope, that her future brother-in-law would make it.

"'aven't seen weather like this for a while," her father commented. "No sign of it stopping neither."

"No," she sighed. "It would appear not."

"Don't you worry, lass, you'll still be getting married on Saturday, even if you are a bit late in getting there."

"Bride's prerogative," Emily chipped in and Lily smiled at her. She was glad she had asked the younger woman to be her bridesmaid. She was the closest thing to real family, and they had gotten on so well in Scarborough that, when she had sat and thought about it, it had been a natural choice.

"Well, I don't want to be too late. I wouldn't want Siegfried to think I'd stood 'im up at the altar."

"e'll 'ave no excuse at any rate," Tom replied. "'op, skip and a jump from Skeldale House to the church." He paused and glanced over at her. "You sure you're feeling all right, lass? You're still awful pale."

"I'm fine," she replied. Much to her relief, a few days earlier, her monthly had arrived, bringing with it the pain and fatigue that she usually experienced. The sight of it had made her feel immensely grateful that she and Siegfried had apparently been spared any 'surprises', though she had adhered to the position she had put forward on New Year's Eve and they hadn't been together since, despite it being painfully obvious that they both wanted to be. Every moment alone had been highly charged with desire, impatiently seeking to be unharnessed. But they had both admirably managed to restrain themselves and it was only a few days until they could legitimately be together. Now, she felt as though she was coming out the other side of the rigours of womanhood and could enjoy their day, even despite the weather. "Don't you be getting Siegfried paralytic tonight, Dad."

"Me? I reckon it could be the other way around."

"I know what you're like once you get started."

"Well, it's lucky you're not getting wed until Saturday then, isn't it? Most stag parties 'appen the night before the big day so as the groom can just carrying on drinking and not think about what 'e's doing."

"Dad!"

"I'm only joking, lass," he chuckled. "Don't lose your sense of 'umour now."

"I'll give you sense of 'umour…"

"Is that what you did?" Emily piped up. "Have your stag party the night before your wedding?"

"Well, it weren't that common back in my day. I 'ad a few drinks with me friends, me brother and your father, but it wasn't really anything to write 'ome about. Not like it is today. Though I do admit I were fairly merry when I said me vows. Nowt wrong with that."

"I mean it," Lily insisted. "Please Dad."

"Your intended can 'old 'is liquor quite well on 'is own without my 'elp. I saw that for meself at New Year. I doubt 'e'll need much encouraging on that score. Don't you worry lass, it'll be a rare good night. Not sure I can say the same for you ladies drinking tea, mind."

"That's exactly what I want, a quiet evening," Lily said. She was looking forward to the time to be spent with Emily and Mrs Hall, putting the world to rights in their own way. She felt a certain comfort from being within Skeldale House, soon to be her own home, and that feeling made her happier than she would ever have thought possible. "Besides, I'll 'ave the chance to put away some of me things." It had seemed prudent to gather up some of the things that she intended taking with her to her new home and having them in situ in advance of the big day.

"Aye, well…less said about that, the better," Tom remarked, pulling into the square.

"I'll be a married woman, Dad," she teased.

"And that is something I don't need to think about. Right then, everybody out." As they disembarked and met around the front of the van, he took her hands in his. "'ave a nice evening, lass, both of you. You'll pick us up at closing time?"

"Yes," she sighed, wondering what of state she would find him in. "I said I would."

"Good girl." Kissing her cheek, he loped off towards the Drovers at speed, leaving Lily and Emily to make their way across the square to Skeldale House, where Mrs Hall greeted them warmly at the door.

"I'm glad you're 'ere," she said, beckoning them inside. "I've got everything ready."

"I 'ope you 'aven't gone to too much trouble," Lily said, taking off her coat and hanging it on the coat stand. "A cup of tea and a biscuit is fine for us."

"Don't be daft! It's all set out. Go and take a look."

Lily moved into the sitting room and stopped short at the sight of the feast on offer. Cakes, shortbread, biscuits, buns and everything else imaginable was laid out on the coffee table. "Audrey, you didn't need to go to so much bother."

"It's no bother," Mrs Hall squeezed her shoulder. "I'll just go and stick the kettle on and we can get started. I 'ope the pair of you are 'ungry at any rate, though I did promise Mr Farnon that I'd leave a little something for 'im for when 'e stumbles 'ome later tonight."

"It's very kind of you," Lily turned back to her. "Really it is."

"Well, we're going to be like family soon. Best start as we mean to go on."

"This is nice," Emily commented when they were alone again. "Look at all these books. 'as 'e read them all, your Mr Farnon?"

"I suppose 'e 'as."

"Do you reckon you will, read them all I mean?"

"I don't know. I don't rightly know what life's going to be like once we're married and living 'ere together…" she trailed off, caught once more between the excitement and happiness of her new life, and the general uncertainty of it all.

"It's going to be wonderful," Mrs Hall replied from the door, holding the tea tray. "Absolutely wonderful."

XXXX

He wasn't sure how many pints he had had, but the world had started to take on a rosy tinge for Siegfried. The edges of his vision had become blurred, the raucous laughter of those around him reverberating through his brain. He had to admit it had been a successful evening. Everyone had been in high spirits, wishing him well on his journey to matrimony. It felt a little strange, knowing that it wasn't his first foray, and yet sometimes he found it hard to bring to mind how he had felt in the days before marrying Evelyn. It seemed so long ago and he had been so much younger, a boy in comparison to what he was now. Though he often didn't want to admit it, feeling it was in some way a betrayal, he felt that his love for Lily was stronger, deeper, almost more mature than that which he had had for Evelyn. They had both been through so much in the intervening years that his younger self could never have comprehended. For that he felt, in a strange sense, blessed.

As he stood near the bar, surveying the scene around him, he caught sight of Tom coming towards him and braced himself for whatever the other man might have said. He need not have feared however, as his future father-in-law slung his arm around his shoulders.

"It's a grand night, lad, a grand night."

"Yes, it appears to be."

"Everyone's 'ere to wish you well, or offer their condolences," Tom laughed. "Whichever way you want to take it."

"I'll take it any way," he replied. "I know I'm a lucky man."

"That you are. She's a good girl, my Lily. She'll be a good wife to you, mark my words." He paused. "I know I 'aven't always been in favour of, well, giving 'er away…but I reckon you'll make 'er very 'appy. At least, I 'ope you will."

"I fully intend to. There's nothing I want more than to see her happy."

"Good lad," Tom squeezed his shoulder. "It goes without saying, I suppose, that if you 'urt 'er, I'll kill you."

"Oh yes," Siegfried replied, conscious that the other man was, perhaps, only half joking. "Goes without saying."

"Right then! Another round I reckon. The night is still young and we 'ave much to discuss!"

"We do?"

"Aye lad," Tom steered him over to a table in the corner. "That we do."

XXXX

As far as Lily was concerned, the evening had been a complete success. Mrs Hall and Emily had been wonderful people to spend time with and the three women had laughed and joked and talked endlessly, so much so that she barely knew where the time had gone. Every subject had been covered from the weather to animals, holidays to Christmas, courtship to marriage. Emily had revealed, somewhat shyly, that she had been maintaining a correspondence with a lad she had met when they had been in Scarborough and Mrs Hall had talked, rather wickedly, about some of the more salacious sides of married life, though she had stopped short of discussing her husband in any great detail and Lily hadn't seen fit to ask.

"You know, it just goes to show," she commented, as they fell about laughing on something Emily had just said, "you don't need alcohol to 'ave a good time."

"Indeed you don't," Mrs Hall replied. "But it can 'elp! Would you like a glass of something?"

"No, thank you. I want to 'ave a clear 'ead to drive Dad back up the road. No doubt 'e'll be a complete mess by now. But you two should 'ave one, if you fancy it."

The telephone suddenly rang out in the hallway and Mrs Hall glanced at the clock, "Who could that be at this time?" Rising from her chair, she made her way out of the room and Lily could hear her murmuring to whoever was on the other end. Moments later, she returned, her expression grave. "That were George Sharp looking for Mr Farnon. 'e said something about his sheep being ill again, like the last time."

"Listeriosis?" Lily asked, the memory of the visit coming back to her.

"'e couldn't remember exactly what it were called but 'e said that you and Tristan were there too."

"Yes, I remember. Did you tell 'im Siegfried was in the Drovers?"

"I did, but 'e seemed very anxious…"

"Well, I'll nip over and see what sort of state 'e's in," Lily said, getting to her feet. "Maybe I could drive 'im up, if 'e's fit, like I did that day at Darrowby Show."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, the snow seems to 'ave stopped and it's only across the way." She moved into the hallway and lifted her coat. "I'll be back in a minute." Opening the front door, she was hit by a icy blast of air but saw, to somewhat of her relief, that the snow had indeed stopped. Gingerly she picked her way across the square to the Drovers, the sound of raucous laughter greeting her before she had even opened the door. It didn't take long to locate Siegfried, slumped as he was at a table with her father, clearly discussing something nonsensical that sent them repeatedly into fits of laughter. Though she was pleased to see them getting along, it was abundantly obvious that he would be completely incapable of dispensing any veterinary advice that evening.

"I'd better call George back and tell 'im to ring Paddy Trotter," Mrs Hall said when she returned to the house.

"But what if 'e does that and then never uses Siegfried again?" Lily asked. "'e'll 'ave lost a good customer."

"Well, that's the price you pay in this line of work, I suppose. There's always someone else around waiting to take from you given 'alf a chance."

Lily paused, her mind suddenly going into overdrive. She could remember the visit to the Sharp farm as though it were yesterday, assisting Siegfried as she had whilst he administered the injections to the afflicted sheep. If only she could remember the name of it…

"Tetracycline!" Emily and Mrs Hall looked at her. "That's the name of the medication Siegfried gave the sheep the last time, tetracycline. 'e said that, if they're not too far gone, then it would save them." She paused as they continued to look at her. "Well…I watched 'im do it. It didn't seem that difficult." She turned on her heel and hurried into the dispensary where the medicines were kept. "'e must 'ave some around 'ere somewhere…"

"You're not going to go up there yourself? Lily…" Mrs Hall said, coming up behind her as she ran her fingers along the bottles and vials that sat on the shelves, "are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Aha! Here it is! Look, tetracycline, four vials of it. Now, syringes…"

"Yes but… 'ave you ever given an injection before and…"

"No, but…"

"And 'ow would you know 'ow much to use?"

"Siegfried and I talked about it after we visited. We went through everything, what 'e 'ad done, 'ow 'e 'ad done it, 'ow much 'e used…" she paused. "If the sheep don't get the injection then they'll just get worse and die. Not to mention the fact they could spread it to the rest of the flock. These one's could 'ave got it from the ones who 'ad it before." Mrs Hall's expression remained one of worry and she felt a slight tinge of annoyance. "Don't you think I could do it?"

"Of course I think you can do it, but…what if something goes wrong? You're not qualified, and Mr Farnon would be liable…"

"Nothing is going to go wrong," she replied stubbornly. "It's just a quick injection. I promise you, if I get there and they're worse or I think it's something I can't 'andle, I'll call Paddy Trotter myself. Please Audrey, I know I can do this and just think 'ow proud Siegfried would be. 'e's the one who keeps going on about me becoming a vet and us being in practice together."

"You don't need my permission," Mrs Hall said, "I just think…" she trailed off. "Well, if anything bad comes of this, I voiced my concern at the time, don't forget that."

"I won't and, like I said, nothing's going to go wrong." Glancing around, she caught sight of Siegfried's bag in the corner and, sweeping up the vials and syringes, deposited them inside. "If I go now, I'll be back by closing time. Ring George Sharp back and tell 'im I'm on my way, will you? Thank you." Without waiting for a response, she hurried for the door again. "I'll see you soon."

There was a layer of frost on the windscreen of the van and as she started the engine and waited for it to clear, she felt a certain frisson of excitement course through her. What would be a better wedding gift to her new husband than showing him that all the trust and confidence he had in her wasn't misplaced, that she was in fact capable of doing the things he believed she could. More than that, she would have kept a valuable customer happy and prevented him from going elsewhere. If she and Siegfried were to be any kind of team, personally and professionally, wasn't that what it was all about?

"It's a win-win situation," she muttered to herself as she pulled away from the kerb. "Bloody win-win."