Chapter Text
Midt i
"Aud!"
Helen Herriot entered the kitchen of Skeldale House through the back door and was glad to immediately see the person she'd come to see. Or at least their back.
Audrey Hall was sitting at her desk, hunched over the household ledger. Since she was once again responsible for the Farnon brothers' culinary needs, she'd also resumed keeping meticulous records. The budget for the household was just one of the things that had been criminally neglected in recent years. The lack of tracking of incoming and outgoing finances permeated every area of the practice and the house itself, and the fact that they couldn't pay her for the time being spoke volumes about how deeply in the red they really were.
Not that she wanted to be financially compensated for providing for her family, but the money for certain daily expenses had to come from somewhere. The electricity didn't pay for itself either.
"Audrey!" Helen called her friend again, and now Audrey realized that she'd heard her name before, but had wanted to finish her own thought first. Now she put down her pen and stood up.
"Helen, luv! It's nice to see you! Would you like a cuppa? I could use a little break." Without waiting for a reply, she went to the stove and put the freshly filled kettle on. "Where did you leave Jimmy and Little Rosie?"
"With their Auntie Jenny. She's looking after them and enjoying the time until we leave for London the day after tomorrow. Jimmy has been chewing her ear off about the last two days. He's had such a good time spending some time with Uncle Siegfried again."
"That's good, he'll have plenty of that in the coming days and weeks." Smiling, Audrey placed two cups on the kitchen table. She disappeared into the pantry for a moment and also took out the Holy Tin of shortbread. "There's one left for each of us."
Helen's eyes lit up. She enjoyed Audrey's shortbread at least as much as anyone who had ever tasted it. The kettle whistled, and after Audrey had poured the hot water over the leaves, she finally sat down.
"Did you want something in particular, luv, or just a quick natter? James is away on the upper farms today and won't be coming in for lunch either."
"And Siegfried?"
"Sieg... Mr. Farnon is in the shed." Audrey avoided Helen's gaze as she quickly poured the tea. She blamed the steam for briefly warming her skin.
"What's he doing in the shed? Hasn't he been good?"
She laughed, and Helen's gaze grew even more curious.
"He's practicing darts."
"He... what? He's practicing darts?" Had she heard that correctly? "At what? And why? Does he want to throw needles into patients from ten feet away in the future?"
"Would that really surprise you so much?"
The two women looked at each other and began to snort. Audrey’s words bore a truth in them.
"There's a darts tournament at the Drovers tonight, benefiting the WVS. Maggie told me when she was here yesterday to borrow the dartboard. The pub, shamefully, doesn't have its own, and she remembered Tris telling her about ours."
Helen blinked. "If Maggie took the board... what does Siegfried throw his darts at?" She broke off a piece of her shortbread and popped it into her mouth. "Mmm, Aud. Fantastic as always."
"There was a little left over paint," Audrey answered the previous question. "He painted his own board on the wooden wall." She chuckled. "I took a quick look earlier; things aren't going too well, but of course he doesn't want any help either. So he won't be serious competition for me. You can imagine the mood that puts him in." It was good that he was out of reach for the time being. She raised the teacup to her lips, and when she looked over the rim at Helen, her eyes twinkled mischievously.
"What do you mean, competition?" The young woman didn't quite understand. She had actually come to Skeldale to ask Audrey if she could look after the children that evening, as she and James were going to Skipton for dinner. It was supposed to be her farewell evening, but from the sound of it, the other woman had already made her own plans.
"I'm pretty good at darts; Betty taught me in Sunderland. It's a lot of fun, and it's good to throw a few darts now and then, too. It keeps me from throwing other things." Her eyebrow twitched a little, and Helen knew what she meant. After all, she knew Siegfried too. "When the frustration gets a little too much."
"Ah, so you're going too," Helen stated, mentally already searching for another babysitter. Audrey's cheeks turned a pale shade of pink, and she stroked the tabletop several times with the palm of her hand.
"We're going together, Mr. Farnon and I. I managed to convince him we can play Backwards Cribbage another time. Things don't always have to go his way."
Slowly, Helen leaned back and folded her arms in front of her. "Audrey Hall, are you going on a date with Siegfried?" she exclaimed, partly astonished, partly amused.
"Noooo," Audrey drawled, turning even pinker. "We're going to play darts. At the Drovers. We've been to the Drovers a hundred times before." A little unsure of her own explanation, she laughed. It wasn't a date, after all!
"Alone? After discussing it at length beforehand?" Helen persisted.
Audrey shifted in her seat. "Of course, when you go about it like that, it seems…"
The other began to grin broadly. "You're going on a date with Siegfried. Well, I never!" She leaned forward and placed her hand on her friend's arm. "Good. I hope you beat him hands down. And in a pretty dress, too." She waggled her eyebrows. "He should get something out of his defeat, at least."
* * *
Siegfried stomped over to the makeshift dartboard on the wall and, grumbling, pulled the darts out of the old, weathered wood. The last ten throws had all landed somewhere beyond good and evil, far from any of the rings that needed to be hit to score points.
Of course, he couldn't impress anyone with non existing skills like that.
Not that he even planned to do.
But something told him Mrs. Hall was pretty good at this game, and he didn't want to look like a complete novice next to her. However, his pride also forbade him from asking her for a little instruction.
He glanced out the window, hoping to spot his brother. Tristan had driven off in the Rover over an hour ago, no doubt to spend time with his flavour of the month. How long could it take to get to know each other? After all, there was a time when it was enough. Once again, he stepped on the dot painted on the ground from which, according to Mrs. Hall, he had to throw. He'd allowed her that much instruction. He sorted the darts in his hand, took one between his index finger and thumb, and aimed.
"Blast it!" Missed again. The next dart at least hit the dots, even if only on the outer ring. The third hit the wooden wall again. Siegfried clenched his hands into fists. How difficult could this game be?
The unmistakable roar of his racing green pride and joy reached his ear, and Siegfried began to move. Tristan hadn't even fully turned off the engine when his brother ripped the door open and practically dragged him out of the car.
"Come on."
"It's good to see you. Thanks for bringing my car back safely. How's Charlotte?" Tristan stumbled across the yard. "Those would all be appropriate greetings. Come on while you drag me out of the car by the collar, isn’t!"
"Oh, shut up, man. I need your help." Siegfried turned around and looked at him with a restless gaze. "PLEASE."
Tristan shrugged his shoulders and grinned smugly, which made the older man roll his eyes and regret his idea.
"Oh, just forget it."
"What's it about?"
"Forget it!" Siegfried snapped, but Tristan wasn't so easily shaken off. He followed him into the shed, where, for a brief moment, he could barely see anything due to the difference in light from outside, but then immediately spotted the makeshift dartboard. He looked questioningly at Siegfried, who was standing there snorting with three darts in his hand, his shirtsleeves rolled up, the glasses perched low on his nose. The bandage on his cheek stood out against his flushed face. He had obviously been in there for a while and was despairing of what he was trying to do.
"I didn't know you played darts. Or whatever that's supposed to be. Where did the board go?" He looked around. "That's my board!"
"On loan to the Drovers. Fundraiser for the WVS. Maggie was here yesterday." Siegfried looked at him sideways. "Since you've decided to ally yourself with the upper echelons, I guess you don't get to see her as much anymore, otherwise you'd surely know."
"That's rich, coming from you." Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. "Since when do you care whether some charitable organization gets supported or not?"
"Mrs. Hall would like to play darts, so we’re going to play it. She's obviously pretty good at it." Siegfried twirled the darts in his hand. "I would have preferred to stay home and play Backwards Cribbage, but it's only right to compromise now and then."
Tristan's mouth twitched. "You can't keep her locked up at home every night," he said. "You have to offer the ladies something once in a while." His brother should know that, having toured all the dance halls in North Yorkshire long enough.
"The ladies? Offer?" Siegfried's eyes widened. "What does that have to do with Mrs. Hall and me going to the Drovers? Where, I regret to say, I'll be embarrassed if you don't teach me a few tricks and tips." He squared his shoulders. Tristan, who couldn't or didn't want to miss this opportunity to tease his big brother a little, stepped up beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Well, first of all, it never hurts to compliment a woman. Two compliments are even better, but maybe not on the same thing. No two about shoes or hair." He patted him between the shoulder blades. "Mrs. H's been wearing her hair differently since she came back, so it would be a good start to mention that.“
Siegfried, who had lost track of his question and forgotten that he had actually wanted to explode because Tristan had deliberately misunderstood him, looked at him in confusion. "Does she?"
"Yeah, man. She does." Tristan frowned. "Aren't you looking at her?"
"Of course I'm looking at her, but not at her hair!" Siegfried shook his head. Then it dawned on him how that must have sounded. "I mean..." He cleared his throat, preferring to return to the original problem. It wasn't like he was taking Mrs. Hall out on a date or anything. They were just walking across the square to Drovers, like they had done half a million times before. No reason to get nervous. "Tristan, would you please be so kind as to show me how not to act like a complete idiot?" He held up the darts. "I hit, at most, one in ten."
Tristan snorted. His brother was a lost cause either way. "Show me how you throw. Maybe there's still something that can be improved." His eyebrow twitched. "We don't want Mrs. H to embarrass herself with you."
"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Siegfried barked. It was one thing for him to admit to himself that such a possibility existed, but quite another for someone else to entertain the idea.
"Nothing. Darts?"
* * *
After dinner, Audrey disappeared upstairs without much explanation to the men. She wanted to change, because going to the Drovers in the clothes she'd cooked in was out of the question. She hadn't been out in public very often since she'd been back, so it didn't have to be the skirt she'd been wearing for the past three days. Besides, Helen's remark about it being a date hadn't left her mind. During dinner, it had been hard enough not to think about it, especially since Tristan had been grinning broadly and kept looking back and forth between her and Si... Mr. Farnon. He clearly knew what the evening's activity was and interpreted it very similarly to Helen.
After a quick visit to the bathroom to freshen up, she slipped back into her dressing gown and went back to her room. On the bed were the two dresses she hadn't yet decided between. One was quite new and from Sunderland, the other older but she hadn't worn it very often. The fabric was almost a bit too warm for summer, even though it had short sleeves, and so far she'd mostly only sported it in the fall, under a sweater or vest.
No. It would probably end up being the other option. It was lighter, and she knew she could move easily in it, as it already had darts experience from Sunderland. She quickly changed, then sat down at the vanity to put the finishing touches to her appearance.
* * *
Tristan lay spread out on the sofa, leafing through a magazine, glancing casually at Siegfried as he paced through the living room, the hallway, and then the dining room. He'd put on a clean shirt, but his tie and waistcoat were the same as during the whole day. His hair had been freshly combed with Brylcreem, and he'd already smelled him before he'd even seen him. Siegfried had removed the band aid from his wound, making him look rakish. Mrs. Hall, as always, had done a good job patching him up, and there was a neatly healing cut above his cheekbone.
"Ready?" Tristan asked as Siegfried marched past him for the second time. He stopped abruptly.
"I'm always ready!" He pointed at his watch. "I thought it started at eight!" It was ten to.
"So?" Tristan couldn't follow his thoughts. "The Drovers is ten feet away."
"I'm not used to Mrs. Hall being late."
"Hmm. How many times have you waited for her to take her out?" He let the magazine fall to his chest.
"I'm not taking her out, we're going to the Drovers! I don't know how many times I have to mention this." Siegfried's gaze fell on the bar cart in the corner. He wondered whether it would be advisable to drink a whisky to calm his nerves. Because no matter how he twisted it and turned it, ever since his brother had made a few remarks some hours ago, he hadn't been approaching the whole thing quite so relaxed.
In the upstairs hallway a door was being closed, then quick footsteps could be heard.
"Remember to compliment her," Tristan said quietly. "And that two or three more, spread out over the evening, won't hurt."
"Yes, yes," Siegfried hissed. "I've been involved with women since before your birth, always remember that!"
"Honestly, I try to avoid any thought of you with a female being, so..." Tristan's words caught in his throat as his gaze fell on the woman who now stepped into the doorway. He sat up slowly, causing Siegfried to turn around.
"I'm here now, sorry it took a while." Audrey sounded as breathless as she was. Her cheeks were red and her eyes sparkled. "I realized I'm a little out of practice getting ready for a night out. Can we, Mr. Farnon?"
Mr. Farnon could not right now. Absolutely not. He stood rooted to the carpet, holding onto the arm of the sofa, staring at her. He was at a loss for words to say anything, let alone the compliment Tristan had suggested. Not that he couldn't think of ten more right away!
Audrey tilted her head. "Mr. Farnon," she addressed him. "We really should go if we want to register for the tournament."
"Yes, Siegfried," croaked Tris. "It's almost eight. And it starts at eight. You look great, by the way, Mrs. H. He doesn't deserve it, if you ask me."
Audrey laughed softly and stroked the cream-colored summer dress with dark blue polka dots that Edward and Betty had given her for her last birthday. A thin belt accentuated her waist, and the square neckline was trimmed in blue.
"Thanks, Tris. I hope it's not too much for the Drovers."
"Poppycocks!" Siegfried had managed to snap himself out of his temporary trance. He slapped his brother on the arm as he passed. "Hold the fort and stay away from the good stuff," he barked. "We'll be back soon."
Audrey lowered her gaze toward the floor.
"I hope not," said the man sitting on the couch. "I don't want either of you here before midnight."
"Then just come with us! You can buy us one to three drinks. Lord only knows how many I've already bought you."
That was the moment she felt compelled to intervene. "No," she said firmly, linking arms with Siegfried. "This isn't a family outing." She raised her chin and set on a determined look. What it ultimately would be, she didn't yet know, but she knew it would only involve her and Mr. Farnon. Should. "See you later, Tris, and thanks again!" she called over her shoulder as she steered her companion towards the door. Once there, Siegfried stopped, his free hand on the knob.
His eyes seemed even darker than usual as he turned to look at her.
She held her breath, thinking to herself that if she noticed this already, the evening could only be good.
"No family outing?" he asked quietly, making her catch her breath for a moment. It had just slipped out, and she hadn't thought he'd bring it up again.
"No," she finally pulled herself together and met his gaze. What a simple remark from a friend could do was amazing. "After all, it would have been just the two of us playing Backwards Cribbage." She rolled her eyes at herself. What a lame answer! When had she forgotten how to think and speak? This wasn't some strange man she barely knew! And even if they were going somewhere together, even if Helen considered it a date, this was her longtime friend and confidant, her companion, someone she'd known for twelve years, someone who knew about the lowest points of her life.
Yes, their relationship had taken a hit, but she firmly believed they were well on their way to mending it. Maybe even making it better.
Siegfried tilted his head back a little, still examining her. He could practically watch the little wheels turning in her head doing their work. "Then..."
So much was on the tip of his tongue, so much he would have liked to say.
How much he was now looking forward to this evening.
How right she had been; they could play Backwards Cribbage any other evening.
How stunning she looked.
How much he had missed her when she'd been in Sunderland celebrating little Mary's birthday—her granddaughter, how unbelievable was this!—and how relieved he had been when he'd been able to pick her up again at the train station in Keighley.
When he noticed they were still staring into each other's eyes, he blinked rapidly.
"Then?" Audrey was a little sorry that this moment was over and found herself hoping for more of them.
"Let's go."
* * *
Tristan leaped over the arm of the sofa as soon as he heard the front door fall into the lock. He circled the two armchairs and knelt on the bench below the window, then pulled the curtain aside until he could see the street unobstructed.
The feeling that came over him when he saw his brother and Mrs. H walking side by side across the market square was strange at best. Of course, he had seen them together before, arm in arm. Side by side on those armchairs, together at every table in the house. Together on the couch he had just jumped from.
They were the people who had raised him together, who, despite all the friction, arguments, and sometimes disappointed glances, had shaped him and made him the man he was today.
Who had shown him what love was and that it came in many different forms. That family didn't necessarily have to mean sharing the same blood.
Who often seemed closer to him than many a married couple. It hadn't been so long ago that he had seen with his own eyes what it did to Siegfried when Mrs. H wasn't there, when she didn't keep him in line, when she didn't give him a reason to pull himself together and be the best version of himself.
Was that the reason why it suddenly felt strange to think of the two of them as a couple who might be seriously interested in each other?
Because he knew full well that Siegfried would never muster the courage to take the next step, or the one after that?
And because he didn't know if Mrs. H would be able to keep up with it in the long run?
Because for the life of him, he couldn't imagine what made a woman like her prefer the chaos of Siegfried Farnon to any other man.
* * *
"Hello, Maggie."
Audrey stood at the bar and placed her hands on the edge of the wooden board. Siegfried had been stopped by a farmer outside the pub, so she had already gone ahead to register for the darts tournament. The board next to the ale tap already had more names than she could take in at one glance.
"Audrey!" Maggie was visibly pleased to see her. She smiled, and Audrey noticed, equally pleased, that it even reached her eyes. It wasn't an easy time for the young wife and mother, but then, for whom was it? The war had only ended in Europe; fighting was still going on in other parts of the world, and there were soldiers, including British ones, still serving.
Maggie's husband, Arthur, was one of those soldiers, and she hadn't heard from him in a while. Accordingly, she looked exhausted and pale, but she seemed to have managed to put her worries aside, at least for this evening.
"I see you're alone. Didn't you manage to lure the old grouch out of the house?" Maggie put a hand on her hip. "Do you still want to sign in? We haven't started yet. And what can I get you to drink?... Oh!"
Siegfried emerged from the darkness behind Audrey, and Maggie feared he'd heard her description. His raised eyebrow spoke volumes.
"The old grouch was stopped by Cranford," he said, positioning himself so he could reach around Audrey and place his hand on the edge of the bar beside her. Something like a chuckle escaped her involuntarily, though she couldn't quite put her finger on the cause. His remark to Maggie, that she'd hit the mark—or the unexpected proximity to him and the casual ease with which he'd positioned himself so close behind her. It was almost as if he wanted to make it clear to everyone else that she was here with him. Or he with her.
That...
"Please, Maggie, enter us in the tournament." Siegfried puffed out his chest. "I've been practicing."
The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing. They hadn't even recovered when Audrey half-turned to him and ran her hand along the edge of his jacket.
"Why don't you find us a seat, and I'll do what needs to be done here," she asked with an encouraging nod. He frowned in consternation.
"And who pays for the drinks?"
"Me," she said, winking at him. "Always the person who can afford them. Besides, it was me idea to come. And now..." She gave him a gentle nudge. "I don't want to spend the whole evening holding me glass AND me darts."
He left, but not before giving her another brooding look. When Audrey turned back to Maggie, she not only had an ale and a cider ready, but had also added the last two names to the tournament list.
"The first two are on the house for you, as a thank you for the board," she said. "But don't tell him, or he'll be holding on to it all evening." The corners of her mouth twitched, and for a brief moment, her face flashed into that of the young woman who had fallen asleep on the couch with Tristan at Skeldale House. "It would be a shame if he didn't have a free hand either."
* * *
"501? What does 501 mean?"
Maggie hadn't even finished explaining the rules of the tournament when Siegfried was already besieging Audrey with the first question. She took the darts she'd brought with her from her purse and placed them on the table in front of her, three for herself and three for Siegfried.
"You bring your own?" he asked, astonished. He hadn't thought that far. And then something else occurred to him. "And why do we have so many?" He'd only been given three to practice with.
"These are me darts," Audrey said, running her fingertip over the three darts she'd placed in front of her. "Edward and Betty gave them to me the Christmas before last, when Betty and I started playing regularly." She shrugged. "You get much better at throwing with your own darts than with any old ones."
With a look of surprise, he leaned back, placing his arm on the armrest behind her. "Audrey Hall, how good are you really, and why didn't you tell me?"
She laughed. "Just be surprised," she teased, looking back over her shoulder. Her smile was cheeky and a little strange to him, as he hadn't had the pleasure of one of them before. It was a special one. He felt warm inside and wondered if he could take off his jacket now, before things had even really started. This thought, and every other one he'd had for the past ten minutes, vanished when he realized that the position he was in gave him a prime view of Audrey's backside. He didn't know if it was the dress, the way she was sitting, or what it was in the end, but his mouth suddenly went dry, and he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the curve her middle made towards her hips. And from her hips themselves.
What miracles could be hidden under a woollen skirt and cardigan!
"To return to your question... Siegfried Donald Farnon, where are your eyes?"
"At the center. In the center. In the middle... I mean..." Siegfried stumbled when she caught him wandering a little.
"Behave yourself," she said sternly. "And listen. In the 501 game variant, you start with 501 points and have to try to reach zero. So you don't add up, you subtract what you've hit. The numbers are next to the respective squares. The winner is the one who hits the rim at the end. Got it?"
"I didn't even hit the target most of the time," he admitted dryly. "So there's no question of trying to hit that narrow rim." He reached for his ale. "Maybe I should just sit and admire the view."
"Then tonight was the first and only time we've done something like this," she clarified, sitting up so she could watch the first players.
"Something like that?" Siegfried also watched the others, who, as he quickly realized, weren’t competition at all—he was far too bad to really compare to them. Even Cranford hit the board on each of his three shots, and he would have been the last person he'd have expected to do that.
Audrey looked at him sideways, a twinkle in her eyes. She rested her chin on her hand. "A date."
"A... we have... that's... You see this..." His face grew long and longer, and he struggled to find the right words. "Why do you mean… I mean… how do you… What makes you think..."
She raised both eyebrows. "I realize I'm a little rusty. But I'm surprised you have trouble calling a spade a spade. Did you think I'd wear the good dress for Cranford or Dinsdale?"
He swallowed. "I hope not."
"See, neither do I." She sat back and folded her arms over her belt. "Of course, I’m wearing it mainly for meself," she clarified.
"It's new," he said, trying to stay at least somewhat on topic.
"Not... quite."
"Ah. I see." He didn't like being reminded of the time when she'd been in Sunderland and thus not in his life. "It's... you see... It suits you well. I... actually, I mean..." A compliment! Tristan had suggested he compliment her! It couldn't be that difficult!
Audrey straightened again and picked up her cider glass. "What do you actually mean, Siegfried Farnon?" she asked calmly. She took a sip, looking at him over the rim.
He swallowed several times; she was testing him quite a bit, whether intentionally or not.
"That... um... that I'm not quite... You could say I'm not quite capable of coherence when I look at you in that dress." He quickly looked down. "You look very pretty. Prettier than... no, saying that would be counterproductive and also not right."
A gentle tingling began between Audrey's shoulder blades. "And you can't tell me that after all these years, while looking at me?" She picked up her darts and stood up, as the player who had gone before her was just stepping up to the throwing spot. "I would find that very unfortunate, Mr. Farnon."
Siegfried watched her walk around the tables and lean against the bar next to Maggie until it was her turn.
Yes. So did he.
* * *
"In the next round... Hello, will you please listen to me?"
Maggie stood on a small stool so everyone could see her. She held up the board with the names of the participants, some of whom had already been crossed out. Since the voices in the pub hadn't subsided and hardly anyone felt compelled to stop the conversation, a whistle suddenly rang out through the room. Grace Chapman, who had whistled, shrugged apologetically. She was one of those who had already been eliminated in the second round and was now just there for the fun of it. She had found a seat at the table with Audrey and Siegfried and now formed her fan club together with him. Although Siegfried had miraculously made it one round further than Grace, after that, Darrowby's first darts tournament was over for him. Audrey was still in the game, which was no surprise to him, nor to Maggie, who had already seen the other woman throw a few darts in the Skeldale shed.
"After a short break, we'll continue. If you want your glasses refilled, now's a good time." Maggie jumped off her stool. "The kitchen's still open, by the way, if anyone wants to fortify themselves! Greg makes the best chips from here to the coast." She was already picking up the first few empty glasses as she walked.
Siegfried glanced into Grace's tankard. "Can I buy you an ale?" he asked, seeing that only a final sip, which surely tasted stale, remained at the bottom.
Grace chuckled. "I don't know." She looked at Audrey, then at him. "That's not something you should ask me. Ask the woman you're here with."
When he still couldn't follow, Audrey nudged him with her elbow. "She means me," she helped him along. "When you’re ordering, please order me a bowl of chips. I could use something to soak up the cider. I don't want to be eliminated just yet." She leaned against Siegfried's arm and tucked her fingertips into his vest pocket. He'd taken off his jacket some time ago, as the pub was warm and stuffy due to the crowd. It helped only a little that the door kept opening and had been standing open for a good half hour. Outside, it wasn't as chilly as most people would have liked for a summer evening in the Yorkshire Dales.
"Yes?" Audrey wiggled her fingers and gave him a look he really couldn't resist. Grace watched the whole thing, amused.
"Just the chips?" he asked, pulling the empty mugs and glasses towards him. "Or something to drink too?"
"So I can embarrass myself and slam all the darts into the wall?"
"No, that was me," he said with a crooked grin. "Someone distracted me during the last throw."
„Really? Can’t think of that.“ Audrey laughed. She knew perfectly well he was referring to that when she'd lingered at the bar with Maggie instead of returning to her table while he threw. Admittedly, there had been a bit of intention behind it. Sometimes she just felt like she was in the mood. And it was so amusing to see how promptly he responded. Besides, it was a good feeling to know she was in safe waters with him—again, thankfully.
Siegfried took his time walking to the bar, stopping first with Charlie Heskin and then with Dick Rudd for a quick chat. When he lingered with the latter longer than Audrey liked, considering her unordered chips, she made a quick excuse to Grace and headed out herself. As she passed, she picked up the two cups Siegfried was still holding.
"I told you I'd do it," he called as she took them from him.
"Yes, but nothing like that has happened so far, Mr. Farnon." Audrey deliberately brushed her arm past his as she walked on. It was a gesture that could be considered harmless enough, but one that conveyed to him that she was perfectly willing to play his game. Whatever it was—as long as it wasn't cribbage, whether backwards or regular.
"Please, Maggie, make me two ales, a shandy, and a portion of chips." She felt Mr. Farnon's eyes on her back, but refrained from turning around to look at him. That was what he was waiting for, and as Maggie had said recently, things didn't always have to go his way.
"On Siegfried's tab?" the young barmaid asked, already pushing the two ales towards Audrey.
Audrey pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment. She knew the practice's finances were shaky, but on the other hand, visits to the Drovers had become rare.
"No," she decided. "Start one in me name. I'll come by tomorrow and pay."
Maggie nodded; she could be sure that she would keep her word and actually come by to settle the outstanding bill.
Audrey thanked her, then took the drinks and returned to Grace at their table. She hoped her snack would arrive soon.
"Has he at least complimented you yet?" Grace sipped her ale. Technically, Audrey had now bought her the drink.
"Who?" Audrey curled her lips. "Mr. Farnon? He tried."
"Dear me." They looked at each other and laughed. "That Siegfried Farnon would be too rusty to tell a beautiful woman that he liked her would have been unthinkable even a few years ago."
Audrey blushed and looked down. "Give over," she said, embarrassed. She didn't know what else to say, so she let her gaze wander aimlessly around the dining room. It settled on Siegfried, as he too was looking over at her, and the conversation with Dick Rudd no longer held his interest or attention.
She felt as if everything around her had suddenly become quieter, although none of the conversations had died down. Her heart pounded a little faster, a little more insistently. The tingling between her shoulders returned, and Audrey automatically began to smile. She raised her glass to him and pointed to the ale tankard she had fetched for him.
Grace, who had been watching the two of them converse silently from across the dining room, leaned towards Audrey. "Not your first, or is it?"
"Excuse me? Our first what?" Audrey, still lost in thought, looked at Grace in confusion. What had her friend been talking about?
"Date." Grace waggled her eyebrows.
"Well... um... I... yeah, maybe." Audrey quickly took a few sips of her shandy. "In a way, I guess you could call it a date."
"Good. About time."
Before Audrey could react, the bell over the bar rang. "We're on!" Maggie called. "The six remaining in the race should get ready to play again soon."
Audrey sighed. "I hope this won't be my last round. I really could have used some chips." She rubbed her hands on her thighs, mentally preparing herself to throw darts again. "That's what we always did when we played in Sunderland," she said. "I don't know if it really helps, but you don't feel quite so unsteady on your feet anymore if you've had one cider or one shandy too many." She laughed.
"Are you implying that you and your daughter-in-law went through Sunderland's pubs, turning men's heads because your arrows always hit the mark? Row after row?"
Neither woman noticed that Siegfried had rejoined them and was now sitting down next to Audrey. He placed a bowl of golden potato sticks on the table, which he had apparently picked up for her from the bar.
"I hope not," he said. "Because that would mean competition for me, and I don't think I'd be very good at having them." He blinked a few times before daring to look in her direction.
Audrey raised her eyes in surprise. A warm, almost tender feeling flooded through her as she saw how uncertainly he was looking at her. Without paying attention to Grace, without paying attention to the others around her, she placed a hand on his face, leaned into him, and kissed him on the cheek. "There's no competition," she whispered. "Only you."
He began to smile, and immediately his whole face lit up. It was the best thing he'd heard in a long time. The very best. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and when she took her hand back, he let his fingers slide between hers for a brief moment.
"I have to play," she said hoarsely, but remained seated.
"Good luck." His voice also sounded a little rough.
When Audrey didn't move an inch and Siegfried made no move to let go, Grace felt compelled to intervene. "The board’s hanging up there, Aud," she said. "You'll have to go if you want to hit it."
With a bashful grin, Audrey grabbed two chips and then pushed her chair back. Darts in one hand, her snack in the other, she walked to the front. Siegfried crossed his arms and not only watched her, but also shamelessly stared at her bottom. Only when she got into position to start the next round did he pull himself together and focused on whether she was hitting the target or not. After all, the darts tournament was the main reason they'd gone to the Drovers in the first place.
Together.
* * *
"That wasn't bad play, Mrs. Hall. Congratulations!"
Dick Rudd shook Audrey's hand as he walked by, leaving the Drovers after the darts tournament. He wasn't the first to congratulate her on her second-place finish, and he was suitably impressed.
"I'm a bit out of practice, but thank you, Mr. Rudd!" She joined Siegfried, who had returned the glasses and tankards to Maggie and was now also ready to leave.
The food hamper, donated by Mrs. Pumphrey for winning the first place, was carried out of the pub before their eyes by Isaac Cranford. Siegfried's lips twitched. He knew the delicacies that Tricki's owner liked to distribute generously, and he hadn't had truffle paste in a while. Where she got it these days, he didn't know, but he recognized the packaging immediately.
Audrey leaned against his arm as she walked, letting her free hand slide slowly down his forearm to his fingers. The fine hairs on his skin immediately stood on end, and she felt goosebumps under her fingertips.
"Even though I didn't win the basket," she said. "I really enjoyed the evening."
Especially the part when he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows to stop sweating so much.
She bit her lip. Where had that thought suddenly come from? She usually had her wicked side pretty well under control!
"Better than backwards cribbage, I'd wager," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"I'm afraid so." She wrinkled her nose, making him laugh. "But after going on at length about making compromises, I'm quite willing to spend one of the next evenings playing cribbage, backwards or not."
"Mhhh." Siegfried tilted his head back and looked up at the star-studded Yorkshire night sky.
“Mh?” Audrey looked at him questioningly, as his pace had also become slower and more deliberate. He stopped a few meters from the stairs leading to the front door of Skeldale House.
“Mrs Hall, would you consider to occasionally, if it fits into our schedules of course, and within the appropriate rules of society, to… occasionally go out with me?” He cleared his throat. “Again?”
“On dates?” Her heart began to pound.
"Well... for a drink to the Drovers, with or without darts, maybe for some dinner as well, we could... yes, Mrs Hall, I think I'm thinking of dates. Mo... More dates. Dates."
“No,” she said calmly, a little smile on her lips. It wasn't fair to think like that, but he was adorable when he was shy and insecure.
"I see." His shoulders fell down and she could literally sense his disappointment. “In this case…” He was unsure if they should continue to walk arm in arm after her words. Or should he already accept that she just gave him the elbow? In spite of this past evening and her words that she enjoyed it?
“But you might like to ask Audrey, what’s her take on that matter.” She smiled, ready to give him another kiss on the cheek. “I would imagine that she’s very willing to accept any suggestion regarding further dates with you.”