Chapter Text
With Rock's surgery complete, Siegfried had trudged into the scullery, resigned to fighting yet another battle against the kitchen tap, only to find himself searching the room fruitlessly while talking to both himself and the dogs as if half mad. Mind, after the past two days, he was probably doing rather well if he was in fact only half way gone. It was there in the kitchen that Siegfried, jacket removed, shirtsleeves folded to his elbows, suspiciously asking the dogs after the spanner, heard the sound of Audrey approaching through the corridor with intent.
"I'm so sorry," he offered immediately. Sorry that she might be hurting. Sorry that she might feel that she had lost an opportunity. But not in the least bit sorry that she might not be leaving him after all.
"Me too." Sorry for the mess she had made. Sorry for the hurt she had caused. Sorry for the worry. Sorry for believing for even one moment that she could actually leave this house and this family. And in that moment, all the more sorry if she had sealed her own destiny by possibly forcing her own way out of both.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, nervous beyond measure as she asked the question whose answer she was afraid to receive, her voice wobbling around the words as she spoke. "Mr Farnon, I were wondering."
She paused a moment. One last second in which she could pretend that her place could not conceivably have been offered up to another yet. "Have you already posted the job listing?" She clasped her hands together tightly in front of her, continuing to sway slightly on the spot.
"Well, do you know the strangest thing? I bumped into Mary Rudd this morning, and she told me her sister Winifred was looking for a housekeeping position." He waited a beat to see her reaction, wishing she would give some indication of her thoughts about such news.
"I see." Her voice was flat, and her eyes darted around the room, as if trying to accept that she would indeed be made to leave.
Receiving nothing substantial in response, Siegfried hurried on, offering up what he hoped she would see as an invitation. Hoping even more so that she would accept it. "The only trouble is the woman has a voice that can strip paint, and she hates dogs." He looked at her with an expression of concern over having been landed in such a pitiful situation. He wouldn't have any solid reason to offend the Rudds by refusing the woman outright if Audrey were still to leave. But should she like to stay...
She looked carefully back at him, trying to determine if this was what it seemed to be—a gift of forgiveness, a second chance, a lifeline. "Oh," she began cautiously. "Goodness." She stayed silent a moment to allow him the chance to say more, but he remained silent, leaving the decision to offer an alternate solution completely up to her. "Well, we can't have that."
Siegfried shook his head to the negative, afraid to utter a word, instead looking to Dash and Jess, who seemed to both silently agree that such an agreement would be an impossibility. There was only one mistress of the manor in their opinions. They were simply waiting for her to resume her rightful place and lift the general air of malaise that had settled over their home.
Seizing her chance, she offered a hesitant suggestion, looking away from the man in front of her as she began, but eventually feeling the need to see his face, the need to ensure his true feelings on the matter. "Of course, I could always stay on...if that would be...appropriate." She stumbled slightly over the last word, leaving her proposal open-ended so that he might have the final say.
Siegfried felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop open the second the words 'stay on' left her lips. Every inch of him ached to yell out his vehement agreement right then, and he fought to keep the joyful feeling of reprieve from his face as he attempted to answer as if he were calm and under some degree of control after all that had occurred.
"I think that might be the most practical thing, given the circumstances." He tried his very best to appear casual, nodding as if only just contemplating such a simple solution to the problem, allowing only the ghost of a smile to grace his features despite his mind yelling out corrections at his choice of wording. Practical! It wasn't a practical thing. It was the only thing! The most necessary thing! A life-saving thing!
She nodded slowly in return, trying to hold back the sweeping wave of relief she had just experienced. That her life would stay as it should be. That she hadn't thrown away all that was dear to her.
As Audrey stood there, letting the reassurance of his answer slowly seep through her, his words starting the gentle task of calming her, she saw that it was Siegfried who seemed suddenly uncertain of her happiness with the situation.
"If you're sure. I completely understand..."
She didn't even let him finish before jumping in to offer him the solace he had just gifted her. "I'm sure." A smile finally appeared upon her cheeks, small but real, unforced and unwavering, as her role as the one to comfort slipped back around her effortlessly like a favourite glove easily warming the hand it long cared for.
Siegfried could no longer hold back a sigh as he continued, wanting so dearly to be sure that staying here was the right choice for her. That staying with him was the right choice for her. "Mrs Hall, if I've taken you for granted over the years..."
If! What a lark! If! He most certainly had, over and over again, month on month, year on year!
And yet her answer was immediate, swooping in to put a tender stop to his self-reproach. "No." She shook her head firmly, her answer soft and short but so obviously sincere.
His true smile returned then, his relief finally allowed to be visible.
"You haven't." And her own smile became larger and truer before she hurriedly moved on, pressed into action by her own inability to stay in this fraught moment any longer, not allowing the emotion of it to become too much for her to process right there in front of him. She set off straight to the stove, plucking up the kettle and offering him a brew.
Siegfried watched her, speaking words of some nonsense or another without much care or thought, as his mind kept up a constant barrage of silent observations and opinions on her actions.
A brew, of course. Perfect! Just what they needed. She always did know exactly what to do in nearly every circumstance. Save for the lack of water, of course—and the damn missing spanner! Oh, but the water's running, and with no leak! How in the world had that happened? She instantly credited him with the repair, always seeing better in him than he saw in himself, and so he stepped around the issue of having no idea how it came to be working. Opening the cabinet door beneath the sink, his eyes fell upon the missing spanner, and the answer of the miraculous running tap came to him with the memory of the recently removed suitor who asked to remain in the scullery to wait out his faithful dog's procedure.
Audrey, always the wise one, always the observant one, caught up with the truth mere seconds behind him, putting him to the test by asking outright if it was in fact the banker who solved their plumbing problem. He had no choice but to agree that it likely was one last parting gift from the man he was so secretly pleased to see the back of.
"Of course it were," she whispered, primarily to herself, in response to his acknowledgement. She looked down a moment in renewed regret for her actions, which had hurt a kind man who had been a friend to her. But friendship was not reason enough to leave her family, no matter what else she may have temporarily believed she might be able to transform that friendship into, given enough time.
Siegfried, unsure of her thoughts but seeing the emotion on her face before she lowered her eyes, averted his own gaze, giving her a second of privacy. When he looked back to her again, she greeted his returned attention with a small grin, enough for him to know that she was all right.
Audrey retreated to her handling of the kettle, giving it more concentration than it needed, and Siegfried followed suit, making a meal of selecting the cups and saucers they would use. She crossed behind him to fetch milk, and the two continued to move through the space as they always had, weaving easily around one another, their movements so practised as to be predictable after very nearly eight years of living together.
When they sat down to their cups, Audrey informed him that Helen, too, would be moving back to Skeldale. She went on to explain that she had stopped by Heston Grange earlier in the day with fresh bread, and during her visit Helen had asked if she might return.
Siegfried beamed at the news. Skeldale would go back to how it had been before this whole nightmare began. Both women back under his roof. His promise to James back in force, Audrey remaining to guide him in his watch over Helen and eventually the baby. And with all of that, a new promise sparking in his chest. For in those tense moments when he had waited, scarcely breathing, for Audrey to please, please say that she would stay, he swore to himself that he would do more for her, that he would be there for her more often, listening, supporting, trying to ensure that she never would feel taken advantage of in the future. For having had their 'Eighth Year' restored, he now had a goal of utmost importance. It was up to him to secure their safe passage through the fated eighth year, and maybe, just maybe, if he did a proper job of it, then the secret wish he kept tucked away in his heart might have a chance to flourish, bringing with it any number of delightful prospects for them in year nine and beyond.