All Creatures Great and Small (1978–1990): Season 6, Episode 1 - Here and There - full transcript
With their families away in London for a week, Siegfried suggests that he and James move into Skeldale House. Siegfried has visions of re-living those glorious days, now past, where he and James would spend long evenings talking about everything under the sun. On the first evening, they realize they don't have much to talk about. Their presence also interferes with Calum and Deirdre's private time together. James also meets Basil, now working as a cowman for a local farmer but who seems to have taken up a wide variety of jobs in his life; he's also less than reliable as it turns out.
- Now, then, Mr Herriot.
- Mr Coates.
Nice morning.
Yes. Yes, it is.
Aye, there's nowt like
a nice, fresh winter morning.
Cold, though, mind.
(James) Yes. Absolutely.
Hey, you weren't still in bed, I hope?
As a matter of fact, Mr Coates,
I was actually.
- Really?!
- Yes, really.
Oh!
- It is 3am.
- I thought you were bound to be up,
studying, like.
- Studying?
- You'll have a lot of that to do, I expect.
You veterinary chaps, with all these things
they keep bringing up.
I must admit, I do sometimes wonder
myself, Mr Coates…
just how we do it.
"Studying"! It's priceless, James.
It confirms what we've always thought,
that the average Yorkshire farmer
does think of his local vet as a strange
troglodyte eking out a monklike existence
in some austere cell,
with only his books for company.
Eating frugally, if at all.
Sleeping even less.
It never ceases to amaze me -
that stunned silence that ensues
when you tell them you'll go
after you've had breakfast.
There you are, you see. Having said that,
I should have thought you were used to it.
Of course I'm used to it. Doesn't mean
I enjoy it, does it? Necessarily.
- Certainly not in this weather.
- No. It is pretty nippy out there.
Still, as you well know, duty calls -
day or night, summer or winter.
Siegfried!
- James! Should you be here?
- What do you mean?
Shouldn't you be running Helen
and the children to the station?
- There's plenty of time.
- Come and get warm.
- Thanks.
- Only, what I was wondering was,
whether you would be kind enough
to pick up Caroline and my lot.
- No point in us both turning out, is there?
- No. No, I don't suppose there is.
You'll telephone her, will you -
Iet her know I'm on my way?
Done, James. I alerted her this morning
that it could be you picking them up.
Oh! Right, well,
I'll go out there now, shall I?
Why not, James.
(stretches) Morning, James.
Morning, Siegfried.
Where's James dashing off to, then?
Morning, Calum.
The station.
Oh, of course.
Today's the big day, isn't it?
Whose idea was it anyway,
this London jaunt?
Mine, I suppose.
Quite inadvertently.
The last time
James and Helen were over with us,
I was waxing lyrical about the first time I
was taken to London to see a pantomime,
rating the experience on a par, I suppose,
with one's first proper Hamlet at Stratford.
Before James and I
knew what had happened,
Caroline and Helen had organised
a trip up to London to see a panto.
But, uh, I thought they were only going
for a couple of days.
It was no time at all
before an evening at the theatre
had turned into
a full-scale sightseeing trip…
Get some fire, Calum.
..um… taking in everything from
the Natural History Museum to the Tower.
And perhaps just the odd spot
of West End shopping en route?
No doubt, Calum. No doubt.
More to the point,
leaving you and poor James
to fend for yourselves
as best you can, hm?
Yes.
(children's shouts)
- Where are the kids? Not ready yet?
- We are.
- They're just getting a game for the train.
- I'm sorry, darling.
Night call, now Siegfried wants me
to pick up Caroline.
- I thought he was going to do it.
- So did I!
I'm gonna miss you.
Rubbish!
You can't wait for the peace and quiet.
- Jimmy! Rosie! Come on!
- (Jimmy) Hurry up, Rosie!
So, James, how are things
up at Rowangarth? Pretty quiet, I imagine.
- As the grave, Siegfried.
- I'll bet.
I cannot remember the last time
I was able to sit down and read a book.
Right!
- How are you coping?
- Oh, the patient passed a peaceful night.
I suppose there are those who would
regard it as a criminal waste of resources.
- Resources?
- You on your own up at Rowangarth,
Calum by himself down here,
me at my place.
Yes. Yes, I suppose so.
Really, there'd be nothing to prevent us all
moving in together for a week.
- What, in here, you mean?
- Why not, James?
If nothing else,
at least the chores would be shared.
Well, yes, there is that, I suppose.
But you don't think it's a good idea -
is that it?
Well, I can see the obvious advantages.
But?
How is Calum going to react
to being invaded?
- This place is his home these days.
- Calum would jump at the idea.
- What do you say, Calum?
- About what exactly?
Well, I was just pointing out to James
that you've always appeared to me
as just the sort of gregarious chap
who'd welcome a spot of company
here at Skeldale.
Well, Siegfried,
that would depend, wouldn't it?
- Would it? What on?
- Amongst other things, the company.
I wouldn't be enthused by the prospect of
another spotty vegetarian for a fortnight.
Lord, no! I should think not, no.
Nobody said anything about a fortnight.
Really what we had in mind was
much more like a week, wasn't it, James?
- "We"?
- (phone ringing)
James, tell him what we had in mind
while I get hold of that.
- Look…
- Why is it that before you even start
I already have the nasty feeling
that I'm not going to like this?
Something to do with
intuitive Celtic forebears?
Och, aye!
Look, you know that Siegfried and I
find ourselves grass-widowed this week.
- So?
- So what if we spent the week with you?
- Whose daft idea was that?!
- It was yours, wasn't it, Siegfried?
- My what, James?
- Your idea to stay here with Calum.
My impression was that it erupted
spontaneously from our conversation.
It goes without saying that if Calum has
any deep-seated objections to the idea,
then that is that.
Well, do you?
Have any deep-seated objections to it?
- No. No, no.
- There you are. What did I tell you?
You really can read us like books.
Uh, James, that was George Whitehead.
He's got a cow that's gone lame.
I would appreciate it if you could
look in on him during your rounds.
- All right?
- Yes, of course.
Right… I'll see you later.
At supper?
Yes, James. Splendid!
Ha! Well!
That all being settled, I suppose
one ought to get oneself a bit organised.
(humming)
(indistinct conversation)
I was feeling down in the mouth at the
prospect of a week with the girls away.
Now I'm looking forward to it -
the three of us all being here together,
sitting by the fireside of an evening,
rediscovering the almost forgotten art
of masculine conversation, James.
- It'll be quite like old times, Siegfried.
- Right, James.
Oh… here we are.
- Oh. What's this?
- Pork chops, Calum.
Caroline left the fridge chock-a-block.
I thought you might like
to pop 'em under the grill for supper.
Right.
Now then, Calum,
what room do you want me to have?
- James?
- Hm?
Very last thing in the world I would think
of doing is usurping your old room, so…
Siegfried, please!
Well… well, if you really mean it,
thank you very much, James.
Och!
- Mr Herriot, I presume.
- That's right.
Basil Courtenay.
How do you do?
- Hello, George.
- You got here, then.
- One of the cows?
- That's right.
- Pop her in the end stall, shall I?
- Aye, go on, then.
Introduced his sen to thee, then,
has he - our Basil?
Courtenay.
Unusual name for round here, isn't it?
Unusual sort of fella, Mr Herriot.
- Oh?
- We call him Professor Bas, you know.
- Why?
- You'll find out when you talk to him.
Used to be a schoolteacher, you know.
Even lectured at university, he reckons.
Really?!
What's he doing working here, then?
Good question. Try asking him.
And much good it'll do you!
- Where's he from?
- Oh, here and there, Mr Herriot.
- Here and there.
- (Basil) Ready when you are, Mr Herriot.
Right, thanks.
All right, all right, all right!
- Hold the head, Basil, would you, please?
- Yeah.
Come on, beauty. Come on.
Don't subscribe to the traditional method?
- Which method?
- Grabbing her head and holding her nose.
I wouldn't do that to a dog,
never mind one of my cows. Eh, girl?
Yes, I thought so.
There's an abscess in there, all right.
I'll have to pare it out.
Get me a length of rope, would you?
Good Lord!
Thanks.
Whoa!
- Did you paint this?
- Oh, just a daub, really.
- I wouldn't have said so.
- You'll have a glass of wine, will you?
Hm? Oh!
Yes, please.
- George says you used to be a teacher.
- That's right.
- Where was that?
- Oh, you know, here and there.
Oh, yes?
So, what did you specialise in?
Art or PT?
Hm?
Oh! The gymnastics, you mean?
No, no, I… I learnt that in the circus.
- You have also worked in a circus?
- For a while, yes.
- Where?
- Oh, here and there, you know.
- Here and there.
- Thank you.
- It's very good.
- Yes. Good nose, that one.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
- Was that all right for everybody, then?
- Mm.
Well, I suppose it tasted well enough,
Calum, thank you.
It's my favourite - pork chop and spuds.
- Yes, they were rather good cuts.
- Mm! Well, thanks.
But, um… if I was being ruthlessly honest,
I'd say I was disappointed in the meat.
- Oh, really?
- Mm.
Just a soupcon too well done.
Well done? James?
Well, it's not a meat
you can take chances with… pork.
Exactly what I thought.
How did you find the potatoes?
In this climate of ruthless honesty,
I'd have to say that I found them… firm.
Not that I'm against a firm potato per se…
There's nothing worse
than a squelchy potato.
Mm.
Well, there's plenty more,
if anybody fancies one.
James… (Scottish accent) ..can you find
a wee corner for a firm potato?
- Not for me, thanks. I'm stuffed.
- All yours, then, Siegfried.
No. Honestly, Calum.
Well…
waste not, want not.
- (hiccups) Where is he, James?
- He's at the Drovers.
Thank God for that. (hiccups)
I have to say, Siegfried,
I think Calum's cooking has improved.
Really, James?
Not that there wasn't room for
improvement. He's definitely got better.
- Do you think he'll go on doing so?
- There's every chance,
now he has a week to practise in.
Siegfried, how about rediscovering
the anaesthetic qualities of a large G&T?
Oh, splendid, dear James!
I'll tell you what. We might sit by the fire
for a bit and chat, huh?
Mm.
- You all right?
- Yes, thank you.
(hiccups)
Aha!
This'll do us a hell of a sight more good
than gin and tonic, James.
They're trying the French place
again tonight.
- Who are?
- Helen and Caroline.
Helen rang this afternoon.
Not that one in Soho we recommended
that does those marvellous
medaillons de veau?
- That's the one.
- Oh. I thought they went there last night.
They liked it so much,
they're going there again.
- Really? How nice for them.
- (chuckles)
Anyway, James, here we are,
back at the old homestead.
A Saturday night and the splendid chance
of a good old lie-in tomorrow.
- Yes.
- Here's to you.
Cheers.
(contented sigh)
I say, James, what memories
this room does hold for us, eh?
I'll say.
- Conversations, confrontations…
- Yes.
So many memories, James.
So many memories.
Mm.
I can't remember what we used to
talk about, all those long winter evenings.
What didn't we!
How true, James. How very true!
I wonder what's on the wireless. I used
to love those evenings by the wireless.
Well, let's have a look, shall we?
Saturday…
Well, there are madrigals
for choir and organ on the Third,
with the Golden Age Singers.
- Oh, really?
- Mm-hm.
And that's followed by
"The Black Dog of the Wild Forest".
- Some sort of play, that, is it?
- It's a folk tale actually.
"Told by Paddy Sherlock,
a chimneysweep from County Clare."
Good Lord!
What about the Light Programme, James?
Carol Gibbons at the Savoy Hotel.
(yawning) Dear old Carol Gibbons.
Oh, dear me!
I'm sorry, James.
It has been a very long day.
It certainly has.
In fact…
at the risk of being totally antisocial,
I think an early night for once, hm?
Well, sounds like a good idea to me.
Wonderful evening.
Just like the old days.
Yes.
I'll see you tomorrow, James.
Right. Good night, Siegfried.
Good night to you, James.
(knocking continues)
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello there?!
Hello?
Hello?
Are you there, Mr Farnon?
What?!
Mr Farnon?!
Hello?
Hello down there!
(window opens)
Yes?!
You're up there, are you, Mr Farnon?
At quarter to six on a Sunday morning,
if possible, yes!
- Nay, it's never that time already, is it?!
- Come round to the front. I'll come down.
(doorslams)
- Worms?!
- Aye, that's right, Mr Farnon.
You've woken me up at this ungodly hour
just for the sake of a worm tablet?
I just told you.
For our Tiddles.
Aye, she's fair riddled wi' the things.
The point I'm trying to make, Mr Dawson,
is couldn't it have waited till tomorrow?
Tomorrow?
It's hardly what one would describe
as a terminal condition - tapeworm.
But I can't get in tomorrow.
I'm working.
Aye, they're right nasty little things,
them worms, though.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Well, Martha," I said…
That's my wife, you know.
"..Martha, no wonder that tabby's not
known where to put her sen this week,
wi' them mucky things
wriggling round inside her."
Yes, well, will you give her one of these
the moment you get home?
And then, if the worms don't go away…
the other one at the end
of exactly four weeks. Is that clear?
Very clear, Mr Farnon.
Mr Hall, it's Siegfried Farnon.
Yes, it's our door bell.
If I knew what was wrong with it,
I wouldn't be telephoning you.
Yes, I'm well aware it's Sunday, Mr Hall.
The sun also rises even on a Sunday.
The world doesn't cease
to spin on its axis.
Door bells are required, if our attention
is to be drawn to somebody at the door.
Yes, I'm sure you're busy. We're all busy.
When can you fit us in?
What?!
I see.
Well, thank you, but being sorry
really isn't all that much use, is it?
Goodbye.
- No joy?
- Next week at the earliest!
We're obviously
in the wrong line of business.
What I still don't understand
is what the devil old Dawson was doing,
bawling down into the cellar like that.
- No great mystery there.
- (phone rings)
He probably thought you were
down there - in your cell, studying.
Our clients expect us
to be at their beck and call.
"Duty calls -
day or night, summer or winter."
Telephone, James.
George Whitehead.
Right.
So… how was your Saturday night?
Did you have a good old stroll
down memory lane, you and James?
I realise it's difficult for you to imagine
a Saturday evening that isn't spent within
staggering distance of the nearest pub.
Ha-ha. It's just that when I got back,
just after ten, you'd both gone to bed.
It's a good thing, too, considering the
unearthly hour at which I was disturbed.
(James) No more than half an hour,
George. Bye.
- It does sound like scour.
- (Siegfried) Oh, James!
Oh, Siegfried, yes.
I better get out there.
- Fancy a pint at the Drovers later?
- I won't, thanks, Calum.
We are going to have another
cosy fireside chat. Aren't we, Siegfried?
Sorry to drag you out on a Sunday,
Mr Herriot. They've all got it.
- I'm glad you did. It's scour all right.
- Oh, hell!
Look, it's bad,
but it isn't fatal if it's caught in time,
- and I'm pretty sure we have.
- Thank God!
If it's treated immediately, they'll be better
in days. I'll tell Basil what needs doing.
(knock at door)
- Hello, Basil.
- Mr Herriot. Come in, come in.
- It is scour, I'm afraid.
- Oh, dear.
But I think we've caught it early enough
to knock it on the head.
- Something smells good.
- Tonight's supper, Mr Herriot.
You haven't been a chef
in one of your previous incarnations?
I never actually made chef…
- So, what is it you want me to do?
- Right.
It's a mixture of, uh… antibiotics…
- and sulphonamides.
- All right.
Had some success with it,
so it should do the trick.
- It is vital they get the prescribed dosage.
- Yes, yes.
One dose last thing at night,
another first thing in the morning.
- Leave it to me. I'll see they get it.
- Good.
Hello, Calum.
What is that doing in here?
Oh, Siegfried brought it over from home -
to while away the dull evenings.
Yes.
Ah, James. You're back.
Yes!
Just see if this thing's working properly.
Siegfried…
I think they'll just about be open now,
so unless either of you gentlemen
would care to join me,
I'll see you later.
(TV on)
- Everything all right?
- Fine.
- You sure?
- Of course.
Come on, James. You have many talents,
but one of them is not dissembling.
Never has been.
- If something's bothering you, spit it out.
- Nothing is bothering me. I just wondered.
- Wondered?
- What happened to your wonderful plans.
- What plans?
- That thing would kill conversation dead.
To make conversation, James,
one needs to be informed about
everything that's happening in the world.
The wireless does that already.
Not to mention serious newspapers.
Look, James. James! All that
the newspapers have to offer is opinions.
With the best will in the world,
the wireless can only describe.
But with this thing,
seeing really is believing.
- This isn't just a machine, James.
- (TV off)
This is a… veritable chiaroscuro
of drama, opera, ballet.
Informed debate, illustrated reports
from every corner of the globe.
Doesn't the very concept
leave you breathless, James?
- I suppose it might.
- It might?!
It might. If I didn't have a sneaking
suspicion that even Shakespeare
is likely to lose luminosity when reduced
to lines of dots on a nine-inch screen!
In varying shades of grey?
- Do remind me, James.
- Of what?
Of the last time you were exposed to
any of the Bard's work, in any medium.
If anybody needs me, Siegfried,
I'll be in the Drovers.
- (doorslams)
- Oh, James, James, James!
(Basil) Now, there's the lady.
See the lady?
That one.
(laughter)
- A schoolteacher?!
- Mm.
- Do you believe him?
- I don't know.
Hello, Mr Herriot. Fancy your chances,
do you, at finding the lady?
(James) Oh, thank you.
- This going to cost me a bit?
- Not in your case.
Thanks.
- Right?
- Right.
Pick her out.
- (man) Ooh!
- (laughter)
Oh, Basil.
Mr Buchanan, assistant in our practice.
- Pleased to meet you.
- And you.
- Can I have a go?
- Thruppence if you lose.
All right, then.
(Basil laughs)
- Getting it right, are you?
- Yes.
- (Basil chuckles) And again, is it?
- Um… maybe not.
Ah!
This school he taught at wouldn't have
been a card school by any chance?
- I think that's highly likely.
- Hmm.
You'll let me buy you a drink -
you and Mr Buchanan?
- Out of my ill-gotten gains.
- That's very civil of you. Thanks.
- And again, please, Ted.
- (Ted) Coming up.
You certainly seem to know your way
around a pack of cards.
- Taught by a master.
- Who was that?
Well, I used to travel with this fair.
They had a chap there used to make
himself a fiver a day with that routine.
One day he showed me how it was done.
It's all a matter of practice.
- (Calum) Funfair?
- Mm. Great life. Get to see the country.
- I thought you were a schoolteacher.
- That's right.
- Where was that?
- Oh, here and there, you know.
- What made you give it up?
- Well, my feet really, I suppose.
- Your feet.
- Yes, I have this problem with them.
Oh, aye?
Just when I think I've finally settled down
to a job, they start to get itchy again.
- After you.
- Thank you.
(Music "Muffin the Mule" theme on TV)
(woman) Hello, everyone.
You see what's going on
on mypiano today. Muffin…
There's… something wrong
with the, uh… the picture.
Oh, that's it. That's it.
There we are.
It's all in working order now.
Now, I suppose I'd better get a move on
and organise the surgery.
- Would you mind?
- Sorry.
- Thank you.
- (both whistle "Muffin the Mule" theme)
(both chuckle)
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello there?
Mr Farnon?!
Hello?
Mr Farnon?!
Oh! You're up there again, then,
are you, Mr Farnon?
Something I can do for you,
is there, Mr Dawson?
- It's our Tiddles again.
- Oh, yes?
Only, she keeps sneaking 'em out,
you see.
Sneaking what out, Mr Dawson?
Them tablets you gave me -
out of t' side of her mouth,
when she thinks I'm not looking, like.
I don't think she really likes them,
Mr Farnon.
She's not supposed to like them,
Mr Dawson. It isn't a treat.
But whether she likes them or not,
she must have them.
- Is that quite clear?
- Oh, yes.
Good. Good night.
Only, Mr Farnon…
how do I stop her?
Keep spitting 'em out, like.
Right, Mr Dawson,
you take a towel, just a common
or garden towel - do you see? -
in which you wrap Tiddles tightly,
so that only her head emerges.
- Are you with me so far?
- Oh, yes.
Then… you force the mouth open…
by squeezing at both sides.
Then you pop the pills
into the resultant gaping gullet.
Then you clamp the jaws together…
and you hold them together -
at the same time, massaging the throat.
Tiddles will then be presented
with two alternatives:
either to swallow the pills…
or to choke to death.
Oh!
If, on the other hand,
you still feel unequal to the task,
then please bring Tiddles to me,
and I will be happy to do it for you.
In fact, it will be a pleasure.
I'll try to manage, thank you.
I don't understand it.
They should be picking up by now.
Where's Basil?
- Basil.
- Oh!
Mr Herriot.
- How are you?
- Very well, thanks.
The calves aren't.
They haven't improved at all.
- You have been giving them that stuff?
- Without fail, Mr Herriot.
It's very odd.
Well, you keep it up, will you?
They must start responding soon.
All right, Mr Herriot.
- Looks like it's going to snow.
- You're right.
(Basil) Some view, though, isn't it?
Like the mountains of the moon.
(James) Yes… I suppose it is.
(Basil) "'Over the mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the valley of the Shadow…"'
(James) "'Ride, boldly ride,'
The shade replied -
'lf you seek for Eldorado!"'
- Who wrote that, then?
- I've no idea.
Edgar Allan Poe, Mr Herriot.
A haunted, driven man,
if ever there was one.
That what you were looking for when you
came to live in the country - Eldorado?
Aren't we all, really?
Well, living round here,
some of us think we've actually found it.
Aren't you the lucky ones, then.
(doorbell rings)
- Hello, Sam.
- Hello, Mr Herriot. Just testing.
- Mr Buchanan said to go right ahead.
- Oh, good.
Is that all right for you now, then?
Yeah, it's fine. I thought we weren't
going to be seeing you till next week.
Thought I'd better get it done right away,
after all t' fuss
Mr Farnon made on t' phone.
- He's not about, is he?
- He's due back any minute.
- I'd get while the going's still good.
- Right.
- What's the weather going to do, Sam?
- You can't really tell round these parts.
Still, I expect
there'll be something on t' wireless.
- There usually is about this time.
- Yes. Good thinking.
- Bye, Mr Herriot.
- Goodbye, Sam. Thanks a lot.
(Music romantic instrumental)
(woman on radio) Gwen and I went
to Parkwood Hill to see the new house.
The Lowrys were away on holiday, except
for the doctor- but we didn't see him…
- Hello, James.
- Hello, Siegfried.
Not disturbing you, I hope?
No, of course not.
Good old Mrs Dale, eh?
I expect she's still worried about Jim,
eh, James?
I can see thatpiano still…
I was waiting for
the weather forecast actually.
Ah, I see.
- It is extraordinary, though, isn't it?
- What?
How if one isn't careful,
one can become besotted by all that.
- What?
- Mrs Dale and her doings.
I really wouldn't know, Siegfried.
I am waiting for the weather forecast.
- So you said. So you said.
- (clears throat)
My good James,
please don't switch it off on my account.
- I didn't.
- Ah!
By the way, James, is it still all right
about our swapping rooms?
It's perfectly all right.
Good, cos in that case, I think I'll go
and move my stuff over straight away.
- Oops!
- Calum, careful!
- Hello! I didn't know you were back.
- We were just talking in the kitchen.
Oh, really?
- What's that?
- That's my portable gramophone.
- Oh!
- "Portable" in the loosest sense.
Um… James,
did you have any plans for this evening?
Why?
Deirdre and I were thinking of staying in
and playing some records…
And you would like me
to leave the coast clear.
- Would you?
- Well, I suppose so!
- Stout fellow!
- What about Siegfried?
Well, he's got the monthly meeting
of the Darrowby Wine Tasters.
He won't be back till, ooh…
midnight at the earliest.
(kiss)
- Mr Herriot?
- Hello, George.
- How are the calves?
- Well, they're no better, Mr Herriot.
What?!
I'll come out first thing tomorrow morning.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
It's a pleasure, George.
- Good evening. Hello, Betty.
- Hello, Mr Farnon.
- Well, James!
- I thought you were at a meeting.
We wound up in good time for once. The
snow's made people anxious to get home.
- Has it stopped yet?
- Yes, it stopped about nine.
- It's clear as a bell out there now.
- That's good.
- What'll you have?
- That's kind. I'll have a small one.
- Must get back.
- Back?
Snooker.
On the television - tonight.
- Joe Davis versus Walter Robinson.
- Oh!
You know Calum's entertaining Deirdre?
If they want to join me,
they'd be more than welcome.
(distorted snooker commentary)
- Do they often go wrong?
- They're awful temperamental things.
No, no, no, no, not necessarily.
It's probably…
something to do with
the meteorological situation.
Sun spots perhaps?
Oddly enough, James…
unlike the wireless, television is not
subject to sun-spot interference.
I don't know about you lot,
but I'm for a pint.
- Deirdre?
- Right.
- We'll see you later, then.
- (Siegfried) Uh-huh.
(mouths)
I don't expect
we've missed very much, Siegfried.
Oh?
It wouldn't have been that easy to follow
in black and white, would it? Snooker.
(TV off)
There's an interesting piano recital
on the Third.
- Well, why not.
- Mm.
(tuning radio)
(man speaks German)
(man speaks French)
- Strange.
- Sun spots, James.
(doorbell rings insistently)
(ringing continues)
(doorbell continues)
I don't believe it.
Who the…?!
(ringing continues)
All right!
All right!
(ringing stops)
This is Tiddles, Mr Farnon.
I brought her, you see.
Like you told me.
(Basil) Hello? George?
- Basil.
- Mr Herriot. Come in, come in.
- You're an early bird.
- Not that early, surely. Not in our line.
You gave the cows their granules
this morning?
- Yes, Mr Herriot. Got up specially.
- And what about last night?
Of course.
Uh-huh?
You got a minute, Basil?
- You will notice it's been snowing. Right?
- Right.
- It stopped at about what? Nine o'clock?
- Something like that.
How on earth did you manage to get from
here to the byre and back twice since then
without making a single footprint?
Or is that another of your party tricks?
You haven't been near that byre, have
you? Either last night or this morning.
Well, they're a lot better than
we have any right to expect them to be.
Under the circumstances.
Mr Herriot.
- Will they be all right?
- We'll have to wait and see.
- I'm sorry.
- Yes, so you should be.
Um… you'll have to tell Mr Whitehead,
I suppose.
I can't think of a single good reason
why not. Can you?
I won't tell him, if you give me your word
that you'll do the job properly.
You needn't worry about that, Mr Herriot.
Not from now on.
All right. One last chance.
Thank you, Mr Herriot.
It's how I am, you see.
How I've always been.
I start a thing, really throw myself into it,
and then I…
I don't know, all the interest
just seems to drain out of me,
as if.. as if someone's
pulled out the plug or something.
- But I thought you enjoyed the work.
- I did!
I always do.
At first.
- (Helen) How are the calves now?
- (James) lmproving rapidly,
now they're getting the right dosage.
So everything
turned out all right in the end.
Apart from the fact George
is now looking for a new cowman.
You promised Basil
you wouldn't tell on him.
I didn't tell! As soon as he saw the calves
were going to be all right, he left.
- Where to?
- Don't know.
Here or there, presumably.
- How is it?
- Delicious.
Not in Calum's class, of course,
but very good.
Mm.
- It's good to have you back.
- Oh, I see.
You only love me for my pork chops.
It's one of the things, yeah.
(clears throat) It is wonderful to be home.
I mean, I love London,
but I'm always glad to be back.
- You did enjoy it, didn't you?
- Oh, yes.
In fact, Caroline and I were thinking
of staying longer next year.
- Next year?
- About a fortnight.
What?!
Don't worry.
I'm only joking.
- I'm very glad to hear it.
- (Helen chuckles)
Well, I think Caroline was joking.
(Basil) I can recommend the '47, sir.
I think you'll find…
- Good Lord!
- What's the matter?
- Middle table.
- (Basil) lf you want the best…
It's him, darling. It's Basil!
- You're new here, aren't you?
- Yes, sir.
I feel sure I've seen you
somewhere before.
- Worked in other restaurants round here?
- Yes. All over the country.
Really? That explains it.
Where exactly around here?
Oh, here and there, sir.
Here and there.
(customer)
We'll have a bottle of that, then.
(Basil) Very good.
Are you going to speak to him?
No. No, I don't think so.
- Mr Coates.
Nice morning.
Yes. Yes, it is.
Aye, there's nowt like
a nice, fresh winter morning.
Cold, though, mind.
(James) Yes. Absolutely.
Hey, you weren't still in bed, I hope?
As a matter of fact, Mr Coates,
I was actually.
- Really?!
- Yes, really.
Oh!
- It is 3am.
- I thought you were bound to be up,
studying, like.
- Studying?
- You'll have a lot of that to do, I expect.
You veterinary chaps, with all these things
they keep bringing up.
I must admit, I do sometimes wonder
myself, Mr Coates…
just how we do it.
"Studying"! It's priceless, James.
It confirms what we've always thought,
that the average Yorkshire farmer
does think of his local vet as a strange
troglodyte eking out a monklike existence
in some austere cell,
with only his books for company.
Eating frugally, if at all.
Sleeping even less.
It never ceases to amaze me -
that stunned silence that ensues
when you tell them you'll go
after you've had breakfast.
There you are, you see. Having said that,
I should have thought you were used to it.
Of course I'm used to it. Doesn't mean
I enjoy it, does it? Necessarily.
- Certainly not in this weather.
- No. It is pretty nippy out there.
Still, as you well know, duty calls -
day or night, summer or winter.
Siegfried!
- James! Should you be here?
- What do you mean?
Shouldn't you be running Helen
and the children to the station?
- There's plenty of time.
- Come and get warm.
- Thanks.
- Only, what I was wondering was,
whether you would be kind enough
to pick up Caroline and my lot.
- No point in us both turning out, is there?
- No. No, I don't suppose there is.
You'll telephone her, will you -
Iet her know I'm on my way?
Done, James. I alerted her this morning
that it could be you picking them up.
Oh! Right, well,
I'll go out there now, shall I?
Why not, James.
(stretches) Morning, James.
Morning, Siegfried.
Where's James dashing off to, then?
Morning, Calum.
The station.
Oh, of course.
Today's the big day, isn't it?
Whose idea was it anyway,
this London jaunt?
Mine, I suppose.
Quite inadvertently.
The last time
James and Helen were over with us,
I was waxing lyrical about the first time I
was taken to London to see a pantomime,
rating the experience on a par, I suppose,
with one's first proper Hamlet at Stratford.
Before James and I
knew what had happened,
Caroline and Helen had organised
a trip up to London to see a panto.
But, uh, I thought they were only going
for a couple of days.
It was no time at all
before an evening at the theatre
had turned into
a full-scale sightseeing trip…
Get some fire, Calum.
..um… taking in everything from
the Natural History Museum to the Tower.
And perhaps just the odd spot
of West End shopping en route?
No doubt, Calum. No doubt.
More to the point,
leaving you and poor James
to fend for yourselves
as best you can, hm?
Yes.
(children's shouts)
- Where are the kids? Not ready yet?
- We are.
- They're just getting a game for the train.
- I'm sorry, darling.
Night call, now Siegfried wants me
to pick up Caroline.
- I thought he was going to do it.
- So did I!
I'm gonna miss you.
Rubbish!
You can't wait for the peace and quiet.
- Jimmy! Rosie! Come on!
- (Jimmy) Hurry up, Rosie!
So, James, how are things
up at Rowangarth? Pretty quiet, I imagine.
- As the grave, Siegfried.
- I'll bet.
I cannot remember the last time
I was able to sit down and read a book.
Right!
- How are you coping?
- Oh, the patient passed a peaceful night.
I suppose there are those who would
regard it as a criminal waste of resources.
- Resources?
- You on your own up at Rowangarth,
Calum by himself down here,
me at my place.
Yes. Yes, I suppose so.
Really, there'd be nothing to prevent us all
moving in together for a week.
- What, in here, you mean?
- Why not, James?
If nothing else,
at least the chores would be shared.
Well, yes, there is that, I suppose.
But you don't think it's a good idea -
is that it?
Well, I can see the obvious advantages.
But?
How is Calum going to react
to being invaded?
- This place is his home these days.
- Calum would jump at the idea.
- What do you say, Calum?
- About what exactly?
Well, I was just pointing out to James
that you've always appeared to me
as just the sort of gregarious chap
who'd welcome a spot of company
here at Skeldale.
Well, Siegfried,
that would depend, wouldn't it?
- Would it? What on?
- Amongst other things, the company.
I wouldn't be enthused by the prospect of
another spotty vegetarian for a fortnight.
Lord, no! I should think not, no.
Nobody said anything about a fortnight.
Really what we had in mind was
much more like a week, wasn't it, James?
- "We"?
- (phone ringing)
James, tell him what we had in mind
while I get hold of that.
- Look…
- Why is it that before you even start
I already have the nasty feeling
that I'm not going to like this?
Something to do with
intuitive Celtic forebears?
Och, aye!
Look, you know that Siegfried and I
find ourselves grass-widowed this week.
- So?
- So what if we spent the week with you?
- Whose daft idea was that?!
- It was yours, wasn't it, Siegfried?
- My what, James?
- Your idea to stay here with Calum.
My impression was that it erupted
spontaneously from our conversation.
It goes without saying that if Calum has
any deep-seated objections to the idea,
then that is that.
Well, do you?
Have any deep-seated objections to it?
- No. No, no.
- There you are. What did I tell you?
You really can read us like books.
Uh, James, that was George Whitehead.
He's got a cow that's gone lame.
I would appreciate it if you could
look in on him during your rounds.
- All right?
- Yes, of course.
Right… I'll see you later.
At supper?
Yes, James. Splendid!
Ha! Well!
That all being settled, I suppose
one ought to get oneself a bit organised.
(humming)
(indistinct conversation)
I was feeling down in the mouth at the
prospect of a week with the girls away.
Now I'm looking forward to it -
the three of us all being here together,
sitting by the fireside of an evening,
rediscovering the almost forgotten art
of masculine conversation, James.
- It'll be quite like old times, Siegfried.
- Right, James.
Oh… here we are.
- Oh. What's this?
- Pork chops, Calum.
Caroline left the fridge chock-a-block.
I thought you might like
to pop 'em under the grill for supper.
Right.
Now then, Calum,
what room do you want me to have?
- James?
- Hm?
Very last thing in the world I would think
of doing is usurping your old room, so…
Siegfried, please!
Well… well, if you really mean it,
thank you very much, James.
Och!
- Mr Herriot, I presume.
- That's right.
Basil Courtenay.
How do you do?
- Hello, George.
- You got here, then.
- One of the cows?
- That's right.
- Pop her in the end stall, shall I?
- Aye, go on, then.
Introduced his sen to thee, then,
has he - our Basil?
Courtenay.
Unusual name for round here, isn't it?
Unusual sort of fella, Mr Herriot.
- Oh?
- We call him Professor Bas, you know.
- Why?
- You'll find out when you talk to him.
Used to be a schoolteacher, you know.
Even lectured at university, he reckons.
Really?!
What's he doing working here, then?
Good question. Try asking him.
And much good it'll do you!
- Where's he from?
- Oh, here and there, Mr Herriot.
- Here and there.
- (Basil) Ready when you are, Mr Herriot.
Right, thanks.
All right, all right, all right!
- Hold the head, Basil, would you, please?
- Yeah.
Come on, beauty. Come on.
Don't subscribe to the traditional method?
- Which method?
- Grabbing her head and holding her nose.
I wouldn't do that to a dog,
never mind one of my cows. Eh, girl?
Yes, I thought so.
There's an abscess in there, all right.
I'll have to pare it out.
Get me a length of rope, would you?
Good Lord!
Thanks.
Whoa!
- Did you paint this?
- Oh, just a daub, really.
- I wouldn't have said so.
- You'll have a glass of wine, will you?
Hm? Oh!
Yes, please.
- George says you used to be a teacher.
- That's right.
- Where was that?
- Oh, you know, here and there.
Oh, yes?
So, what did you specialise in?
Art or PT?
Hm?
Oh! The gymnastics, you mean?
No, no, I… I learnt that in the circus.
- You have also worked in a circus?
- For a while, yes.
- Where?
- Oh, here and there, you know.
- Here and there.
- Thank you.
- It's very good.
- Yes. Good nose, that one.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
- Was that all right for everybody, then?
- Mm.
Well, I suppose it tasted well enough,
Calum, thank you.
It's my favourite - pork chop and spuds.
- Yes, they were rather good cuts.
- Mm! Well, thanks.
But, um… if I was being ruthlessly honest,
I'd say I was disappointed in the meat.
- Oh, really?
- Mm.
Just a soupcon too well done.
Well done? James?
Well, it's not a meat
you can take chances with… pork.
Exactly what I thought.
How did you find the potatoes?
In this climate of ruthless honesty,
I'd have to say that I found them… firm.
Not that I'm against a firm potato per se…
There's nothing worse
than a squelchy potato.
Mm.
Well, there's plenty more,
if anybody fancies one.
James… (Scottish accent) ..can you find
a wee corner for a firm potato?
- Not for me, thanks. I'm stuffed.
- All yours, then, Siegfried.
No. Honestly, Calum.
Well…
waste not, want not.
- (hiccups) Where is he, James?
- He's at the Drovers.
Thank God for that. (hiccups)
I have to say, Siegfried,
I think Calum's cooking has improved.
Really, James?
Not that there wasn't room for
improvement. He's definitely got better.
- Do you think he'll go on doing so?
- There's every chance,
now he has a week to practise in.
Siegfried, how about rediscovering
the anaesthetic qualities of a large G&T?
Oh, splendid, dear James!
I'll tell you what. We might sit by the fire
for a bit and chat, huh?
Mm.
- You all right?
- Yes, thank you.
(hiccups)
Aha!
This'll do us a hell of a sight more good
than gin and tonic, James.
They're trying the French place
again tonight.
- Who are?
- Helen and Caroline.
Helen rang this afternoon.
Not that one in Soho we recommended
that does those marvellous
medaillons de veau?
- That's the one.
- Oh. I thought they went there last night.
They liked it so much,
they're going there again.
- Really? How nice for them.
- (chuckles)
Anyway, James, here we are,
back at the old homestead.
A Saturday night and the splendid chance
of a good old lie-in tomorrow.
- Yes.
- Here's to you.
Cheers.
(contented sigh)
I say, James, what memories
this room does hold for us, eh?
I'll say.
- Conversations, confrontations…
- Yes.
So many memories, James.
So many memories.
Mm.
I can't remember what we used to
talk about, all those long winter evenings.
What didn't we!
How true, James. How very true!
I wonder what's on the wireless. I used
to love those evenings by the wireless.
Well, let's have a look, shall we?
Saturday…
Well, there are madrigals
for choir and organ on the Third,
with the Golden Age Singers.
- Oh, really?
- Mm-hm.
And that's followed by
"The Black Dog of the Wild Forest".
- Some sort of play, that, is it?
- It's a folk tale actually.
"Told by Paddy Sherlock,
a chimneysweep from County Clare."
Good Lord!
What about the Light Programme, James?
Carol Gibbons at the Savoy Hotel.
(yawning) Dear old Carol Gibbons.
Oh, dear me!
I'm sorry, James.
It has been a very long day.
It certainly has.
In fact…
at the risk of being totally antisocial,
I think an early night for once, hm?
Well, sounds like a good idea to me.
Wonderful evening.
Just like the old days.
Yes.
I'll see you tomorrow, James.
Right. Good night, Siegfried.
Good night to you, James.
(knocking continues)
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello there?!
Hello?
Hello?
Are you there, Mr Farnon?
What?!
Mr Farnon?!
Hello?
Hello down there!
(window opens)
Yes?!
You're up there, are you, Mr Farnon?
At quarter to six on a Sunday morning,
if possible, yes!
- Nay, it's never that time already, is it?!
- Come round to the front. I'll come down.
(doorslams)
- Worms?!
- Aye, that's right, Mr Farnon.
You've woken me up at this ungodly hour
just for the sake of a worm tablet?
I just told you.
For our Tiddles.
Aye, she's fair riddled wi' the things.
The point I'm trying to make, Mr Dawson,
is couldn't it have waited till tomorrow?
Tomorrow?
It's hardly what one would describe
as a terminal condition - tapeworm.
But I can't get in tomorrow.
I'm working.
Aye, they're right nasty little things,
them worms, though.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Well, Martha," I said…
That's my wife, you know.
"..Martha, no wonder that tabby's not
known where to put her sen this week,
wi' them mucky things
wriggling round inside her."
Yes, well, will you give her one of these
the moment you get home?
And then, if the worms don't go away…
the other one at the end
of exactly four weeks. Is that clear?
Very clear, Mr Farnon.
Mr Hall, it's Siegfried Farnon.
Yes, it's our door bell.
If I knew what was wrong with it,
I wouldn't be telephoning you.
Yes, I'm well aware it's Sunday, Mr Hall.
The sun also rises even on a Sunday.
The world doesn't cease
to spin on its axis.
Door bells are required, if our attention
is to be drawn to somebody at the door.
Yes, I'm sure you're busy. We're all busy.
When can you fit us in?
What?!
I see.
Well, thank you, but being sorry
really isn't all that much use, is it?
Goodbye.
- No joy?
- Next week at the earliest!
We're obviously
in the wrong line of business.
What I still don't understand
is what the devil old Dawson was doing,
bawling down into the cellar like that.
- No great mystery there.
- (phone rings)
He probably thought you were
down there - in your cell, studying.
Our clients expect us
to be at their beck and call.
"Duty calls -
day or night, summer or winter."
Telephone, James.
George Whitehead.
Right.
So… how was your Saturday night?
Did you have a good old stroll
down memory lane, you and James?
I realise it's difficult for you to imagine
a Saturday evening that isn't spent within
staggering distance of the nearest pub.
Ha-ha. It's just that when I got back,
just after ten, you'd both gone to bed.
It's a good thing, too, considering the
unearthly hour at which I was disturbed.
(James) No more than half an hour,
George. Bye.
- It does sound like scour.
- (Siegfried) Oh, James!
Oh, Siegfried, yes.
I better get out there.
- Fancy a pint at the Drovers later?
- I won't, thanks, Calum.
We are going to have another
cosy fireside chat. Aren't we, Siegfried?
Sorry to drag you out on a Sunday,
Mr Herriot. They've all got it.
- I'm glad you did. It's scour all right.
- Oh, hell!
Look, it's bad,
but it isn't fatal if it's caught in time,
- and I'm pretty sure we have.
- Thank God!
If it's treated immediately, they'll be better
in days. I'll tell Basil what needs doing.
(knock at door)
- Hello, Basil.
- Mr Herriot. Come in, come in.
- It is scour, I'm afraid.
- Oh, dear.
But I think we've caught it early enough
to knock it on the head.
- Something smells good.
- Tonight's supper, Mr Herriot.
You haven't been a chef
in one of your previous incarnations?
I never actually made chef…
- So, what is it you want me to do?
- Right.
It's a mixture of, uh… antibiotics…
- and sulphonamides.
- All right.
Had some success with it,
so it should do the trick.
- It is vital they get the prescribed dosage.
- Yes, yes.
One dose last thing at night,
another first thing in the morning.
- Leave it to me. I'll see they get it.
- Good.
Hello, Calum.
What is that doing in here?
Oh, Siegfried brought it over from home -
to while away the dull evenings.
Yes.
Ah, James. You're back.
Yes!
Just see if this thing's working properly.
Siegfried…
I think they'll just about be open now,
so unless either of you gentlemen
would care to join me,
I'll see you later.
(TV on)
- Everything all right?
- Fine.
- You sure?
- Of course.
Come on, James. You have many talents,
but one of them is not dissembling.
Never has been.
- If something's bothering you, spit it out.
- Nothing is bothering me. I just wondered.
- Wondered?
- What happened to your wonderful plans.
- What plans?
- That thing would kill conversation dead.
To make conversation, James,
one needs to be informed about
everything that's happening in the world.
The wireless does that already.
Not to mention serious newspapers.
Look, James. James! All that
the newspapers have to offer is opinions.
With the best will in the world,
the wireless can only describe.
But with this thing,
seeing really is believing.
- This isn't just a machine, James.
- (TV off)
This is a… veritable chiaroscuro
of drama, opera, ballet.
Informed debate, illustrated reports
from every corner of the globe.
Doesn't the very concept
leave you breathless, James?
- I suppose it might.
- It might?!
It might. If I didn't have a sneaking
suspicion that even Shakespeare
is likely to lose luminosity when reduced
to lines of dots on a nine-inch screen!
In varying shades of grey?
- Do remind me, James.
- Of what?
Of the last time you were exposed to
any of the Bard's work, in any medium.
If anybody needs me, Siegfried,
I'll be in the Drovers.
- (doorslams)
- Oh, James, James, James!
(Basil) Now, there's the lady.
See the lady?
That one.
(laughter)
- A schoolteacher?!
- Mm.
- Do you believe him?
- I don't know.
Hello, Mr Herriot. Fancy your chances,
do you, at finding the lady?
(James) Oh, thank you.
- This going to cost me a bit?
- Not in your case.
Thanks.
- Right?
- Right.
Pick her out.
- (man) Ooh!
- (laughter)
Oh, Basil.
Mr Buchanan, assistant in our practice.
- Pleased to meet you.
- And you.
- Can I have a go?
- Thruppence if you lose.
All right, then.
(Basil laughs)
- Getting it right, are you?
- Yes.
- (Basil chuckles) And again, is it?
- Um… maybe not.
Ah!
This school he taught at wouldn't have
been a card school by any chance?
- I think that's highly likely.
- Hmm.
You'll let me buy you a drink -
you and Mr Buchanan?
- Out of my ill-gotten gains.
- That's very civil of you. Thanks.
- And again, please, Ted.
- (Ted) Coming up.
You certainly seem to know your way
around a pack of cards.
- Taught by a master.
- Who was that?
Well, I used to travel with this fair.
They had a chap there used to make
himself a fiver a day with that routine.
One day he showed me how it was done.
It's all a matter of practice.
- (Calum) Funfair?
- Mm. Great life. Get to see the country.
- I thought you were a schoolteacher.
- That's right.
- Where was that?
- Oh, here and there, you know.
- What made you give it up?
- Well, my feet really, I suppose.
- Your feet.
- Yes, I have this problem with them.
Oh, aye?
Just when I think I've finally settled down
to a job, they start to get itchy again.
- After you.
- Thank you.
(Music "Muffin the Mule" theme on TV)
(woman) Hello, everyone.
You see what's going on
on mypiano today. Muffin…
There's… something wrong
with the, uh… the picture.
Oh, that's it. That's it.
There we are.
It's all in working order now.
Now, I suppose I'd better get a move on
and organise the surgery.
- Would you mind?
- Sorry.
- Thank you.
- (both whistle "Muffin the Mule" theme)
(both chuckle)
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello there?
Mr Farnon?!
Hello?
Mr Farnon?!
Oh! You're up there again, then,
are you, Mr Farnon?
Something I can do for you,
is there, Mr Dawson?
- It's our Tiddles again.
- Oh, yes?
Only, she keeps sneaking 'em out,
you see.
Sneaking what out, Mr Dawson?
Them tablets you gave me -
out of t' side of her mouth,
when she thinks I'm not looking, like.
I don't think she really likes them,
Mr Farnon.
She's not supposed to like them,
Mr Dawson. It isn't a treat.
But whether she likes them or not,
she must have them.
- Is that quite clear?
- Oh, yes.
Good. Good night.
Only, Mr Farnon…
how do I stop her?
Keep spitting 'em out, like.
Right, Mr Dawson,
you take a towel, just a common
or garden towel - do you see? -
in which you wrap Tiddles tightly,
so that only her head emerges.
- Are you with me so far?
- Oh, yes.
Then… you force the mouth open…
by squeezing at both sides.
Then you pop the pills
into the resultant gaping gullet.
Then you clamp the jaws together…
and you hold them together -
at the same time, massaging the throat.
Tiddles will then be presented
with two alternatives:
either to swallow the pills…
or to choke to death.
Oh!
If, on the other hand,
you still feel unequal to the task,
then please bring Tiddles to me,
and I will be happy to do it for you.
In fact, it will be a pleasure.
I'll try to manage, thank you.
I don't understand it.
They should be picking up by now.
Where's Basil?
- Basil.
- Oh!
Mr Herriot.
- How are you?
- Very well, thanks.
The calves aren't.
They haven't improved at all.
- You have been giving them that stuff?
- Without fail, Mr Herriot.
It's very odd.
Well, you keep it up, will you?
They must start responding soon.
All right, Mr Herriot.
- Looks like it's going to snow.
- You're right.
(Basil) Some view, though, isn't it?
Like the mountains of the moon.
(James) Yes… I suppose it is.
(Basil) "'Over the mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the valley of the Shadow…"'
(James) "'Ride, boldly ride,'
The shade replied -
'lf you seek for Eldorado!"'
- Who wrote that, then?
- I've no idea.
Edgar Allan Poe, Mr Herriot.
A haunted, driven man,
if ever there was one.
That what you were looking for when you
came to live in the country - Eldorado?
Aren't we all, really?
Well, living round here,
some of us think we've actually found it.
Aren't you the lucky ones, then.
(doorbell rings)
- Hello, Sam.
- Hello, Mr Herriot. Just testing.
- Mr Buchanan said to go right ahead.
- Oh, good.
Is that all right for you now, then?
Yeah, it's fine. I thought we weren't
going to be seeing you till next week.
Thought I'd better get it done right away,
after all t' fuss
Mr Farnon made on t' phone.
- He's not about, is he?
- He's due back any minute.
- I'd get while the going's still good.
- Right.
- What's the weather going to do, Sam?
- You can't really tell round these parts.
Still, I expect
there'll be something on t' wireless.
- There usually is about this time.
- Yes. Good thinking.
- Bye, Mr Herriot.
- Goodbye, Sam. Thanks a lot.
(Music romantic instrumental)
(woman on radio) Gwen and I went
to Parkwood Hill to see the new house.
The Lowrys were away on holiday, except
for the doctor- but we didn't see him…
- Hello, James.
- Hello, Siegfried.
Not disturbing you, I hope?
No, of course not.
Good old Mrs Dale, eh?
I expect she's still worried about Jim,
eh, James?
I can see thatpiano still…
I was waiting for
the weather forecast actually.
Ah, I see.
- It is extraordinary, though, isn't it?
- What?
How if one isn't careful,
one can become besotted by all that.
- What?
- Mrs Dale and her doings.
I really wouldn't know, Siegfried.
I am waiting for the weather forecast.
- So you said. So you said.
- (clears throat)
My good James,
please don't switch it off on my account.
- I didn't.
- Ah!
By the way, James, is it still all right
about our swapping rooms?
It's perfectly all right.
Good, cos in that case, I think I'll go
and move my stuff over straight away.
- Oops!
- Calum, careful!
- Hello! I didn't know you were back.
- We were just talking in the kitchen.
Oh, really?
- What's that?
- That's my portable gramophone.
- Oh!
- "Portable" in the loosest sense.
Um… James,
did you have any plans for this evening?
Why?
Deirdre and I were thinking of staying in
and playing some records…
And you would like me
to leave the coast clear.
- Would you?
- Well, I suppose so!
- Stout fellow!
- What about Siegfried?
Well, he's got the monthly meeting
of the Darrowby Wine Tasters.
He won't be back till, ooh…
midnight at the earliest.
(kiss)
- Mr Herriot?
- Hello, George.
- How are the calves?
- Well, they're no better, Mr Herriot.
What?!
I'll come out first thing tomorrow morning.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
It's a pleasure, George.
- Good evening. Hello, Betty.
- Hello, Mr Farnon.
- Well, James!
- I thought you were at a meeting.
We wound up in good time for once. The
snow's made people anxious to get home.
- Has it stopped yet?
- Yes, it stopped about nine.
- It's clear as a bell out there now.
- That's good.
- What'll you have?
- That's kind. I'll have a small one.
- Must get back.
- Back?
Snooker.
On the television - tonight.
- Joe Davis versus Walter Robinson.
- Oh!
You know Calum's entertaining Deirdre?
If they want to join me,
they'd be more than welcome.
(distorted snooker commentary)
- Do they often go wrong?
- They're awful temperamental things.
No, no, no, no, not necessarily.
It's probably…
something to do with
the meteorological situation.
Sun spots perhaps?
Oddly enough, James…
unlike the wireless, television is not
subject to sun-spot interference.
I don't know about you lot,
but I'm for a pint.
- Deirdre?
- Right.
- We'll see you later, then.
- (Siegfried) Uh-huh.
(mouths)
I don't expect
we've missed very much, Siegfried.
Oh?
It wouldn't have been that easy to follow
in black and white, would it? Snooker.
(TV off)
There's an interesting piano recital
on the Third.
- Well, why not.
- Mm.
(tuning radio)
(man speaks German)
(man speaks French)
- Strange.
- Sun spots, James.
(doorbell rings insistently)
(ringing continues)
(doorbell continues)
I don't believe it.
Who the…?!
(ringing continues)
All right!
All right!
(ringing stops)
This is Tiddles, Mr Farnon.
I brought her, you see.
Like you told me.
(Basil) Hello? George?
- Basil.
- Mr Herriot. Come in, come in.
- You're an early bird.
- Not that early, surely. Not in our line.
You gave the cows their granules
this morning?
- Yes, Mr Herriot. Got up specially.
- And what about last night?
Of course.
Uh-huh?
You got a minute, Basil?
- You will notice it's been snowing. Right?
- Right.
- It stopped at about what? Nine o'clock?
- Something like that.
How on earth did you manage to get from
here to the byre and back twice since then
without making a single footprint?
Or is that another of your party tricks?
You haven't been near that byre, have
you? Either last night or this morning.
Well, they're a lot better than
we have any right to expect them to be.
Under the circumstances.
Mr Herriot.
- Will they be all right?
- We'll have to wait and see.
- I'm sorry.
- Yes, so you should be.
Um… you'll have to tell Mr Whitehead,
I suppose.
I can't think of a single good reason
why not. Can you?
I won't tell him, if you give me your word
that you'll do the job properly.
You needn't worry about that, Mr Herriot.
Not from now on.
All right. One last chance.
Thank you, Mr Herriot.
It's how I am, you see.
How I've always been.
I start a thing, really throw myself into it,
and then I…
I don't know, all the interest
just seems to drain out of me,
as if.. as if someone's
pulled out the plug or something.
- But I thought you enjoyed the work.
- I did!
I always do.
At first.
- (Helen) How are the calves now?
- (James) lmproving rapidly,
now they're getting the right dosage.
So everything
turned out all right in the end.
Apart from the fact George
is now looking for a new cowman.
You promised Basil
you wouldn't tell on him.
I didn't tell! As soon as he saw the calves
were going to be all right, he left.
- Where to?
- Don't know.
Here or there, presumably.
- How is it?
- Delicious.
Not in Calum's class, of course,
but very good.
Mm.
- It's good to have you back.
- Oh, I see.
You only love me for my pork chops.
It's one of the things, yeah.
(clears throat) It is wonderful to be home.
I mean, I love London,
but I'm always glad to be back.
- You did enjoy it, didn't you?
- Oh, yes.
In fact, Caroline and I were thinking
of staying longer next year.
- Next year?
- About a fortnight.
What?!
Don't worry.
I'm only joking.
- I'm very glad to hear it.
- (Helen chuckles)
Well, I think Caroline was joking.
(Basil) I can recommend the '47, sir.
I think you'll find…
- Good Lord!
- What's the matter?
- Middle table.
- (Basil) lf you want the best…
It's him, darling. It's Basil!
- You're new here, aren't you?
- Yes, sir.
I feel sure I've seen you
somewhere before.
- Worked in other restaurants round here?
- Yes. All over the country.
Really? That explains it.
Where exactly around here?
Oh, here and there, sir.
Here and there.
(customer)
We'll have a bottle of that, then.
(Basil) Very good.
Are you going to speak to him?
No. No, I don't think so.