Chapter Text
1
Since the terrible time of waiting and hoping last december, the fine hairs on Siegfried Farnon's neck would involuntarily stand on end whenever the phone rang. Unfortunately, it did so quite often at Skeldale House and he had to deal with the unpleasant sensation of an elevated pulse brought on by emotional stress on a regular basis. Far more regular than he would have liked and particularly bad were the calls at night. Whereas he had previously managed to sleep through every call, requiring him to be woken when he was needed, he was now up by the second ring.
At the moment it was the late morning and the somewhat shrill noise of the telephone broke the silence of the house. Surgery has been finished for some time and he was busy cleaning the used equipment.
„Darrowby 2297.“
He held his breath as he heard that Mrs. Hall answered the phone. Ever since the short conversation with Edward on Christmas morning, she had insisted on doing this herself again. Previously, when possible, the task had been taken off her hands and without even mentioning it, he knew she had been grateful for it.
„Elsie, luv.“
Her voice, which had sounded a little more tense than usual, calmed down within seconds. It was not another call from Singapore, not a strange voice bringing bad news. It was Elsie, Crabtree he assumed, because he didn't know anyone else by that name.
Siegfried breathed out slowly. He put his hands on the edge of the sink, leaned against it and kept his eyes on the water in it, while he listened to what his housekeeper and friend said.
"I'll send someone over... Yes, of course, but that doesn't sound like an emergency to me... No, of course I'm not. But like I said, I'll send someone to you as soon as possible."
After she finished the call, she came into the exam room and leaned against the doorway with her arms folded. He looked up, glancing over the top of his glasses.
"What's the matter now?"
Audrey Hall raised her head a little. "It were Elsie Crabtree," she said. "Her dog is coughing again. She said she would’ve cometo surgery, but she's already used up theirpetrol ration for the week and she wanted to know if James or you could drop by on one of the roundsto the farms."
"What happened to her feet that she can't use them anymore?" he barked.
She sighed, as she had almost expected this reaction. "Mr. Farnon."
"Did you promise her?" he asked, only slightly more moderately.
She blushed a little and since she was so terribly pale nowadays, he could see it immediately. "In a way," she had to admit. "But you always say..."
"Yes, yes, yes. The animal always comes first." He reached into the by now cold water, pulled the plug and let it drain down the sink. "A coughing dog is hardly an emergency I have to drop everything for. I hope you realize that. After all, the petrol rationing applies to us, too!"
It took her a moment of contemplation before she felt ready to answer, and when she did so, her words didn’t have the same tone as his:
"That's why I suggested you fit it in one of the rounds you're doing anyway."
She turned on the heel and headed back to the kitchen. Lunch wasn't preparing itself and if Mr Farnon had to wait for it, he would become even more irritable. She was halfway down the hall when she looked over her shoulder again.
"You know perfectly well that they care about their dogs as much as we do about ours."
* * *
Back in the kitchen, she continued the beforehand interrupted task of chopping vegetables for a stew. When she was finished, she threw them into the big pot on the stove. Potatoes were already simmering in there, and she stirred it all vigorously.
By now spices were hard to come by but with the things she had, over the course of summer, grown in the garden and later dried, some things could be improved rather well, especially with her skills.
After carefully replacing the lid on the pot, she pulled a chair from the table and sat down.
Finally.
She didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but every time the phone rang, her heart rate doubled and her whole body felt ice cold within a blink. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been in December while she was waiting for news from Edward, but it was enough to put her out of action for a short time.
She had spoken to her son in faraway Southeast Asia on the phone twice since christmas and he had also sent a letter. He was injured, but on the mend. The three doctors in the house had explained to her in detail that his diagnosis sounded bad, but was neither life-threatening nor would it cause excessive permanent damage. Although neither the Farnons nor James Herriot were human medical doctors, their combined knowledge, coupled with years of experience and common sense, had been enough to dispel her worst fears.
Now the main thing was to wait. Edward could not be transported home until he had recovered a bit further.
She was aware that coming home might not mean coming to Skeldale straight away, but would most probably mean a longer stay in a convalescent home or even a hospital. The main thing was having him finally back on english soil so she could see him.
Everything else would fall into place.
Had to fall into place.