7 July 1932

The day was sunny, bright and warm and it lifted his spirits as he washed and dressed that morning. Despite the events of the previous day, he was pleased with how his life appeared to be progressing. Reverend Thwaite would be back at the church soon and they could finalise their plans, perhaps even be married before Darrowby Show given he had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be asked to be attending vet this year. Not to mention Lily's return to surgery which he could only hope wouldn't be delayed by any ill effects from her fall. The more time she spent there with him, the more sure he was that the dream of three Farnons' under one roof was less a dream and more of a burgeoning reality.

"You're cheery this morning," Mrs Hall observed as she served breakfast.

"Yes, isn't he just?" Tristan commented, half a sausage stuffed in his mouth. "Lily's coming again today I take it?"

"Yes, if she feels well enough," he replied, pouring milk into his tea. "She got a fright yesterday, as did I."

"Well, I can't imagine it's very pleasant being thrown from an 'orse," Mrs Hall opined, sitting down opposite him. "Good thing she was able to get to her feet again so quickly. Lord knows, it could 'ave been so much worse."

"Yes, indeed," he mused. "But all that's behind her now. I swear that, if you didn't know she had been in an accident that almost cost her her life, you would never guess it to look at her."

"The picture of rude health," Tristan nodded.

"Quite."

"Not to mention decent to look at."

"Tristan…" Mrs Hall tutted.

"I know, I know…she's going to be my sister-in-law…but I can still appreciate when my much, much, older brother has done well." Tristan clapped him on the shoulder. "Just tie old Thwaite to the pulpit and get it done, before anything else goes wrong."

"Thank you for that advice, Tristan, I'll be sure to suggest it to him when I see him later this week," he replied, rolling his eyes at his brother and yet unable to deny the warm feeling inside whenever he thought of how their family was going to expand. He was about to cut into his bacon where there suddenly came a loud hammering at the front door.

"Goodness me!" Mrs Hall exclaimed, rising from her chair.

"No, I'll get it," he said, springing from the table and heading down the corridor, for only someone with an animal in dire need of medical attention would hammer so loudly so early, and he had never been one to turn anyone away. When he opened the door, however, he was surprised to see, not an animal in need, but Tom standing on the stoop and, at first, failed to notice his clear agitation. "Good morning, Tom, what can I…?"

"You bastard," the other man said quietly.

"I'm sorry…?"

"You will be you bastard! You've ruined 'er, you bastard!" Before he could react, Tom pitched forward, swung wildly and connected, hard, with his jaw, sending him flying backwards into the coat stand and knocking it to the ground. "I'll 'ave you for this, you bastard!" Blow after blow rained down on him as Tom forced him further and further into the house and onto the floor, and all he could do was raise his arms to his head in some sort of defence. For a man of advancing years, he was surprised by how strong the other man was.

"Mr Bailey!"

He heard Mrs Hall screech and then Tristan, yelling at the other man to leave his brother alone. The onslaught continued relentlessly however until, suddenly, he felt Tom move away from him and, opening his eyes, saw Tristan holding him against the far wall, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"Mr Farnon!" Mrs Hall ran to him. "Oh my Lord, your face!"

"I'm…I'm fine…" he fought to get the words out through, what he could only imagine, was a split lip. His head rang with pain, and he could already feel his left eye starting to close.

"Here, let me 'elp you up," Mrs Hall took his arm and carefully helped him to his feet, where he laid out a hand to steady himself against the wall, before she rounded on their visitor. "What on earth do you mean coming in 'ere and beating Mr Farnon like that?!"

Tristan was still holding the other man tightly and he couldn't fail to now see the raw and uninhibited anger on Tom's face. He knew there was only person that could cause Tom Bailey to fly into such a rage as that which he had just witnessed and been victim to and his insides ran cold. "Lily…what's happened…?"

"Don't you play the innocent with me, Farnon," Tom spat. "You know exactly what you've done! You couldn't keep it in your trousers, could you?! You 'ad to 'ave 'er, like some common whore round the back of a shed!"

"I…" he fought for understanding, at the same time as his body fought for balance. But even in his befuddled state, he was able to surmise that the other man had to be alluding to the physical nature of his relationship with Lily, but…how in God's name had he discovered it? Surely she wouldn't have been so reckless as to disclose it to him? "Mr Bailey…Tom…"

"'ow many times 'ave you 'ad 'er on 'er back, eh?!"

"I don't…"

"Don't you dare try and pretend it's not true!"

"I wouldn't…couldn't I…I don't know what she's told you, but…"

"I 'ad to call the doctor out in the middle of the night!"

"The doctor?" All thoughts of his own transgressions suddenly flew from his mind. "Is Lily all right? Was it the fall…?"

"No, she's not all right! Bleeding all over the floor she was!"

"Bleeding?!"

"Aye…" Tom snarled. "Losing the child that you gave 'er!"

The words echoed around the room and seemed to linger in the following silence. He stared at the other man as the magnitude of what he was saying registered. Mrs Hall's hand flew to her mouth, Tristan's eyes widened, and they both turned to look at him.

"Get your bloody 'ands off me!" Tom said, pulling away from Tristan and advancing slowly on him. "You 'ad your way with my Lily…you gave 'er a child and then let 'er get on that bloody 'orse…"

"I had…I had no idea…"

"No idea?! You've lain with 'er, God knows 'ow many times, and you 'ad no idea that you'd filled 'er belly?!"

"No…oh dear God…" He felt suddenly nauseous.

"God won't 'elp you now, Farnon."

"But…marry her…I'm going to marry her! Reverend Thwaite is due back this week and…and I'm going to speak to him about the banns and setting a date…" he knew he was wittering and, yet, what else could he say to the father of the woman he had, well, shamed?

"It's too late for that now, isn't it?! You've already 'ad 'er! Already enjoyed what should be kept within the confines of the marriage bed! My lass's name is going to be mud in these parts now because of you!"

"Mr Bailey, I rather think you're exaggerating," Mrs Hall said, calmly stepping between them. "Lily's a good girl, everyone round 'ere knows that, and Mr Farnon's a gentleman…"

"A gentleman?!" Tom sneered. "A gentleman doesn't force a lass into 'is bed!"

"I never forced her!" he exclaimed, keen to get the point across despite the fact he knew it was the least of the present issues. "I would never, could never force anyone, least of all Lily to…I love her, Mr Bailey, you know that I love her…!"

"And no-one ever needs know," Mrs Hall interrupted practically. "Why should anyone be any the wiser when they'll be wed within weeks?"

"Bellamy knows, and 'e's not a man able to 'old 'is tongue when 'e's got a drink in 'im. Folks round 'ere know that. First time 'e tips whisky down 'is neck, the whole world will know about my lass."

"I don't believe that for a moment," Mrs Hall said.

"Believe what you like; it's the truth." Tom stared at him. "To think I gave you the chance. To think I let you convince me that you loved my lass, that you wanted to marry 'er, that you respected 'er…"

"I do, of course I do…!"

"No…like I said, you've ruined 'er." Tom pointed his finger. "You stay away from my girl, Farnon, or I swear to God I won't be responsible for my actions."

"I think it's time you left, Mr Bailey," Tristan said, finding his voice for the first time.

"Why?" Tom looked at him disdainfully. "What are you going to do?"

"Plenty," Tristan replied, with more courage than his brother knew he readily possessed.

Tom held the younger man's gaze for a moment, then looked back at Siegfried. "You 'eard what I said. You stay away or it'll be more than a sore lip you'll get from me." With that, he moved back towards the door, leaving and slamming it loudly behind him.

Mrs Hall let out a loud gasp and clapped her hand to her mouth again before turning to look at him. "Mr Farnon…"

"I'm fine," he said, though he felt anything but. "I just…just need to sit down for a moment." Slowly, he moved into the living room and sank down into the armchair, painfully aware of the two of them hovering in front of him.

"I'll get you a drink," Tristan said suddenly, diving over towards the cabinet.

"I'll get some antiseptic," Mrs Hall dived towards the kitchen.

He was aware of them moving around, but he couldn't focus, couldn't think of anything beyond what Tom had said. Lily, pregnant with his child…

"Siegfried?" He looked to see Tristan holding out a glass filled with whisky, and he reached out to take it, only to see that his hand was shaking.

Moments later, Mrs Hall reappeared with a basin of water and a cloth that smelled suspiciously stringent. "'ere," she said, reaching over him and dabbing it against his lip, causing him to shudder. "'old still."

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine," she said firmly. "I don't know what the 'ell 'e was thinking, coming in 'ere like that without so much as giving you the opportunity to defend yourself."

"Defend myself against what?" he replied flatly. "He was right." She paused in her ministering, met his gaze and he felt ashamed under her eye. "I have been with Lily." She glanced at Tristan and then continued in her work.

"Perhaps we should get the doctor to 'ave a look at that eye."

"Oh, that's a splendid idea, given what old Bailey just said about his inability to keep matters confidential," Tristan opined. "Let him treat the poor woman who's lost a child and then come to minister to the man responsible who's been beaten by her father. Won't that just be fuel for him."

"Tristan…"

"No, he's right."

"He is not right," Mrs Hall said. "Dr Bellamy knows better than that and I've never 'eard the like of 'im apparently unable to keep things to 'imself after 'aving a drink. 'e's a doctor for crying out loud."

"So, he's qualified to treat people, it doesn't mean he has any discretion," Tristan replied.

Mrs Hall dabbed around the corner of his eye and then drew her hand back. "I doubt there's much else I can do for you than that."

"Thank you, Mrs Hall."

She looked away, "Mr Farnon…"

"I didn't know," he pre-empted her. "You have to believe that I didn't know. If I had…I would never have let her get on that damn horse for one thing but, for another, I would have taken her away. We would have eloped. No-one would have ever known…" She rested her hand on his shoulder and he took comfort from her solidarity. "I wish…"

The phone suddenly rang shrilly in the hallway, and she hurried away to answer it. "Darrowby 2297." He heard her pause and then suddenly reappear at the door. "Mr Farnon, it's Lily."

He leapt to his feet as best he could and hurried to her, grabbing the receiver and pulling it to his ear. "Lily?"

"Siegfried? Oh, thank God you're all right! Me dad…"

"I know. He's just left."

"Are you 'urt? What did 'e do to you?"

"Never mind about me…" he took a breath. "He told me that you…"

"Miscarried."

The word came out flatly and hung between them in the silence that followed. In that moment, all he wanted to do was be there for her, hold her and tell her that everything was going to be all right.

"Yes," he said, finally. "Lily, I…"

"I need to see you."

"Yes, of course," he agreed, recognising the urgency in her voice and the fact that, regardless of her father's words, he would always put her first. "I'll come to Windy Hill right now."

"No, not there. I'll…I'll meet you at the crossroads."

"The crossroads, but…surely you should be resting…"

"The crossroads," she insisted. "An hour?"

He glanced at the clock behind him, "Yes, an hour, but Lily…" The line suddenly went dead and all he could do was hang up.

"Is she all right?" Mrs Hall asked, and he turned to see her and Tristan standing behind him.

"She wants me to meet her at the crossroads."

Mrs Hall frowned, "The crossroads?"

"Yes."

"I'll drive you," Tristan said.

"No, there's no need."

"There's every need. You've just been attacked!"

"I'm fine."

"Siegfried…"

"I'll be fine." He glanced around. "Where are my keys?"

"On the 'ook, where they live," Mrs Hall replied, and he found himself almost gratified for the familiarity of her response. "Mr Farnon…" he paused and turned back to look at her. "Be careful."

He nodded, and then made his way through the kitchen and out to the backyard where the car was parked. Half-expecting a baying mob to greet him, the quietness almost took him by surprise and, unchallenged, he climbed into the car and drove away, purposefully not looking at anyone that he happened to pass. His head still hurt, but as he drove towards his destination, he couldn't help but become aware of a far greater pain, deep inside his chest.

The crossroads were deserted when he arrived, and he pulled into the side of the road and stopped the engine. Alighting from the car, he stood and surveyed the glorious countryside around him, it's beauty never failing to marvel him, even under the circumstances. He wasn't sure how long he had been stood waiting, looking into the distance for the first sight of the van to appear over the brow of the hill, but the sun was warm and pleasant, the very antithesis almost of what had just occurred.

He waited and waited, the hands on his watch slipping far past the hour that she had insisted upon. For a moment, he wondered if something else had happened. If she had taken ill, or her father had prevented her from leaving and he had just made his up his mind to drive to the farm when something appeared on the horizon. As it drew closer, he saw it was a person, hurrying along the road, a person he quickly identified as being her.

"Good God…" he muttered to himself striding quickly and then running to meet her. "Lily, what in heavens name…!"

"Siegfried…" she collapsed into his arms and sagged against him.

"What on earth are you doing walking all this way?! Why didn't you bring the van?!"

"I didn't want me dad to know I was gone."

"You stupid girl…in your condition…" he made to pull back, but she clung to him fiercely with a grip that seemed to know no slackening, her body heaving with sobs.

"'old me, just please 'old me…"

"Oh Lily…my darling Lily, I'm so sorry…" he crushed her against him wishing, with every fibre of his being that he could change everything that had happened. "Please forgive me …" For a moment, they just stood together, the sun shining on them until she finally lifted her head from his chest, and he could see the rivulets of tears running down her face. In his heart he knew she would never have kept it from him, but he needed to ask. "Did you know?"

"No," she shook her head, "No, I 'ad no idea…and your face…"

"Never mind about that, it's all right," he cupped her face and kissed her gently. "Everything's going to be fine."

"I didn't think…after my accident…I didn't think I could…"

"I know…" he sighed heavily. "Neither did I but…I should never have enjoyed you as often as I did. It was wrong…sinful…presumptuous…I should never have put you in this position…"

"Siegfried…" she stated crying again. "If I'd known…"

"Please don't cry my darling, please."

"All I ever wanted was a child…all I thought about, ever since we've been together is marrying you and bearing your children…"

"Don't…don't torture yourself. There's nothing you could have done to prevent it."

"I would 'ave loved it…"

"I know, my darling, as would I."

"It's the Lord punishing me. 'e's seen everything that we've done and 'e's punishing me for it."

"That's nonsense," he reassured her, holding her to him again. "The Lord would never act in such a way. Sometimes…sometimes a child just isn't compatible with life, for whatever reason."

"You would 'ave married me, wouldn't you?" she pulled back and looked at him beseechingly. "You would still 'ave married me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would," he said, recalling his words to Mrs Hall. "My darling, if I had known, I would have spirited you away, married you and then brought you back to Skeldale House as my wife. No-one would ever have known." He paused and held her gaze. "I love you so much."

She blinked. "I can't stay 'ere."

"I know," he chided himself inwardly. "how foolish of me to let you stand here in your condition. You should be in bed, resting. Let me take you back to Windy Hill…"

"No, I mean I can't stay 'ere, in Darrowby. Not now, not after this."

He paused, "Lily…"

"Everyone will know!"

"No-one will know! Dr Bellamy is bound by confidentiality; I don't care what your father says. He cannot tell anyone about what has befallen you…befallen us. No-one will be any the wiser and, in any event, we'll be married in a few weeks…"

She shook her head, "No…no, I can't stay 'ere. I can't risk it!"

"Can't risk what?"

"Everyone talking about me. Everyone knowing what I did…what I am…if I ever expected anyone to accept me as your wife and…and working with you in the practice, then I can never expect it now…"

"Lily…"

"You said before! You said that it would be me that would be shamed if this were to 'appen, and you were right! Everyone is going to label me a whore, even if you marry me now and give me your name! I can't stay 'ere, Siegfried, I 'ave to leave. Please…please, don't make me stay 'ere."

"Darling…you're overwrought. You've been through a terrible ordeal and you're not thinking clearly…"

"I am, by God I am!" She shrieked. "I can't stay 'ere, I won't! I 'ave to leave and you 'ave to come with me! Please, please say that we can leave! Say that we can start again somewhere else where no-one knows us! Please, Siegfried, please…!"

"Lily, listen to me!" he shook her gently but firmly, well aware that he was the only thing keeping her grounded at that moment. "You're not thinking clearly. There's so much to consider…"

"You can start another practice; you know you can! Tristan…he can stay 'ere or come with us…we could make a new life, please…! If you love me…!"

"I do love you, of course I do, but you can't make a knee-jerk decision like this based on what's happened today!"

"Please!"

"No!" he said, with slightly more force than he had intended. She stopped and stared at him, her eyes wide and still full of tears. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I don't mean to sound harsh but…running away won't solve anything, Lily. Our lives are here. We have to face things, head on. We have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing! If people want to gossip about us, then that's their right. We don't need to explain ourselves to anyone. You're not pregnant and we'll be married soon. We have the rest of our lives together and, even if people do talk, they'll move onto something else soon enough." He looked at her pointedly. "Believe me, my darling."

She stepped back from him, holding his gaze for a long moment before turning to look back the way she had come. "I should go."

Momentarily thrown by her change of subject, he paused before responding. "Yes, we can talk more tomorrow. I'll drive you home."

"No," she moved further away from him. "I can walk."

"But you shouldn't be walking. You shouldn't have walked here in the first place!"

"Goodbye Siegfried." She turned her back on him and began walking.

"Let me take you home, Lily please!" He waited for her to respond, for her to realise that she was being foolish and turn back to him, but she didn't. She kept on walking, head down, never looking back. For a moment, he was tempted to follow her, then reasoned that perhaps she needed that time alone to think about everything that had happened and everything that had been said. After watching her for a few minutes more, he climbed into the car and turned back towards Darrowby.

Tristan and Mrs Hall were sat in the kitchen and, when he entered, they both got to their feet in the pretence of doing something, though he knew they had been waiting for him. Wordlessly, he sat down at the table and, out of what he could only assume was instinct, Mrs Hall passed him a cup of tea.

"Thank you."

"How was she?" Tristan asked.

"As you'd expect," he replied. "I have to put things in place for her."

"What things?"

"I have to speak to the Reverend as soon as possible and make sure that we have a date set in stone…and I'll have to try and speak to her father again."

"Is that wise?" Mrs Hall asked.

"I'm going to be marrying his daughter, Mrs Hall. I'd rather we were able to maintain some form of civility." He stirred sugar into his cup. "Perhaps I should speak to Dr Bellamy, make sure that he understands that what's happened should never be spoken of in public. Perhaps, if I had that reassurance from him, it might make her feel better."

"Why, what did she say?"

"The same things that she said after her accident. That people would be talking negatively about her, that she couldn't stay in Darrowby…" he brought the cup to his lips and drank some of the scalding liquid. "She wanted me to leave with her."

"Leave?" Tristan sat down opposite him. "Leave Darrowby? The practice?"

"I told her that it wasn't the right moment to be making such a decision, that our lives were here…" he trailed off. "She looked so unhappy…and I've made her that way."

"Now, Mr Farnon, you know that's not true," Mrs Hall said. "You 'ave made Lily 'appier than I think I 'ave ever seen 'er. Since you started courting 'er, she's been a changed woman. Yes, there 'ave been bumps along the way but…you weathered the storms together and you'll weather this one too." He looked up and met her gaze. "But perhaps…"

"Perhaps what?"

"Well, she 'as been through so much and, her father being as 'e is…maybe, her idea is worth considering."

"What, leaving Darrowby?! Tristan exclaimed. "It's absurd!"

"Tristan…"

"Come on Mrs H, you know it is! He can't just up and leave! Look at everything he's built here. How he's taken this practice and made it better, made a jolly good home for us. And Lily's lived here all her life! How can she truly believe that anywhere else would be better?"

She met his gaze again, "I'm only saying…"

"Mrs Hall, you said yourself when I broached the subject with you last time that you thought it was a terrible idea for Lily to leave."

"I know I did, but…" she sighed heavily. "Small places, small people, small minds."

The doorbell suddenly rang loudly, putting paid to whatever he might have said in response and, glancing at the clock on the wall, realised it was far past the time for surgery to begin. "I've got patients to see," he said, rising to his feet.

"You're not well enough," Tristan said. "Tell him, Mrs H. You should be in bed."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "I'm not the one who…who lost a child today."

"That's debatable," Mrs Hall replied pointedly.

"Regardless, you are the one who was almost beaten senseless!"

"And what would you have me do instead? Cancel? That would certainly set tongues wagging now, wouldn't it?"

"Not any more than your patients seeing your face," Tristan replied. "Have you even looked in the mirror?"

Realising that it was the one thing he hadn't, in fact, done, he made his way into the hallway and glanced at his reflection. His eye was swollen, his face bruised and there was an ugly cut to his lip. More than that, however, he looked old…haggard.

"I can deal with surgery," Tristan said, coming up behind him.

"You?"

"Yes. I'll do what I can and anything I'm not sure of, I'll ask them to come back tomorrow. Please, brother, you need to rest."

He turned to look at Tristan, finally seeing him perhaps as the man he was becoming rather than the boy he had always been. His expression was both compassionate, yet determined, and he couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride. "If you're sure you can manage…"

"Of course I can. I'm learning from the best, aren't I?"

"Well then…" he glanced at Mrs Hall. "Perhaps, under the circumstances…" she smiled encouragingly at him. "I'll retire upstairs for a while. If Lily calls…"

"I promise to fetch you," she replied, nodding.

Feeling suddenly every one of his forty years, he took hold of the banister and climbed wearily up to his room. The bed was freshly made, the window open, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze, and he sank down into the sheets, his mind returning as it often did, to that magical moment at Christmas when Lily had come to his room, when they had made love so furtively, worried and yet exhilarated in equal measure at the fact that others had been oblivious below.

It clearly hadn't been on that occasion that he had impregnated her, more likely on an occasion in his car. The thrill of those encounters now gave way to a feeling of shame. It had been tawdry what they had done, what he had done. He should have listened to his own reasoning, before her accident, when he had warned her they couldn't continue in such a fashion until they were married, rather than throw caution to the wind when he had just been so relieved that she was alive, that she was healthy and that she had come back to him.

He was to blame for all of it. He was the one with the greater experience, the one who had tempted her, the one who should have known better.

He was the orchestrator of it all.