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Goodbye, Mrs Stubbs. Thank you, Mr Stubbs. It'll keep us going.
(man) Come bye, Tess. Come bye.
Away to me.
- Morning, David. - Mr Farnon.
Perfectly beautiful up here this morning, isn't it?
Always is, one way or another.
We're well on with lambing below. I see you've started here already.
Aye, it's my first lot.
I've not got such a lot of hard work as I want to lamb 200 ewes
to sell 'em on to someone else straight after.
This flock will be in another shepherd's hands before spring's out.
I'm best selling now, and he can be the one to put in the graft, shell out the brass.
I suppose there are still some who'd say it was a very sudden decision.
I want to be out of sheep, out of this dale.
I've no concern for how my business looks to other folk.
Yeah.
James is coming up to see you on Thursday, isn't he?
There's no fitter ewes than come with Black Hill Farm.
I'll have the veterinary say so on sale day.
They were fine sheep in your father's time and they're fine sheep now.
I have to fetch the best price I can for 'em.
Good day, Mr Farnon. You'll know I've work to do.
Yes, of course. Bye, David.
Walk on.
Walk on.
(gargles loudly)
(coughs)
Caught you. If that's not a cough, I don't know what is.
- It's not a cough, it's a splutter. - That's completely different, is it?
- Yes, - (phone rings)
Coughing and spluttering are worlds apart, medically speaking. (coughs)
Hello. Darrowby 299. Oh, hello, David.
Of course I'll be there. Sale, Black Hill Farm. It's in the diary.
Underlined by Helen. You know what that means.
Yes. Yes, I'm sure.
All right. See you on Thursday. Bye.
David Braithwaite.
For a man who claims to have lost interest in farming, he's very keen I'm there.
He wants me to say that he's got the finest flock of Swaledales in the North Riding.
Says it'll help push the price up.
- It's not really about that, though, is it? - No, of course it isn't.
No matter what he says, he's very proud of those sheep.
Still, no matter what we all think, he is selling up and that's that.
So suddenly it is about how much he gets for Black Hill.
Mary loved that farm, you know. She'd never have wanted him to give it up.
It's still hard to believe.
A year ago, they seemed to have everything they wanted
and everything was going right.
First the baby, then Mary.
Just a week and his whole world was gone.
It's all so fragile, isn't it?
I'd like to come to the sale with you next Thursday, James.
You don't want to hang around there. It won't be the happiest of occasions.
Yes, well… I know friendly faces don't mean that much to David yet. It's just…
You know. It's partly for Mary's sake.
Yes.
- (coughs) - Oh, James…
No, darling, it's not a cough. It's spluttering. (clears throat)
See? A splutter.
Bye. (splutters)
(coughs)
(whistled command)
(whistled command)
Thanks for showing us round again, Mr Braithwaite.
I know how busy you are.
Not much point coming to buy Thursday without missus' say-so.
- Asking for trouble, eh? - Get on wi' you!
As you said, I'm busy.
Right. Well, we'll be here for t'sale, then.
We want to buy Black Hill, Mr Braithwaite. It's a lovely farm. It's just what we need.
Aye. Well, if you've got brass, I don't doubt you can have it.
Sit. Sit.
Now, Tricki, you must stay here with Hodgekin.
You'll be a good boy for him, won't you? There we are.
Thank you.
Hello, my dear.
Oh, I see I'm too late. I knew you were doing the flowers today
so I persuaded Hodgekin to drive me into Broughton to buy you some.
He gets so grumpy if I take them from the garden.
Thank you, Mrs Pumphrey. They're lovely.
I'll, erm… I'll put them on the altar.
No! You must leave your altar exactly as it is.
It's lovely.
- Erm… - Well, now, where?
I know. We can put them in the Lady Chapel.
- Well, if you don't mind. - Quite sure I don't mind.
And how is your dear husband?
Tricki's been so well lately, we've hardly seen him.
Of course. Well, he's been very busy with the lambing, but he's fine.
- Apart from his cough. - Oh, dear.
It's nothing serious, but you know men. He won't take a thing for it.
I know. My late husband was exactly the same.
Well, we can't allow Mr Herriot to risk his health.
- Tricki and I will have to talk to him. - Oh, no, please, it's only a bit of a tickle.
Not to worry. I'll call upon Geoffrey straightaway.
- Geoffrey? - Geoffrey Hatfield.
Oh, yes.
My husband and Geoffrey were great friends.
And Tricki and his cat, Alfred, well… they're great friends too.
I mustn't keep you. Your flowers are beautiful.
(coughs)
- Mr Herriot. - Morning, Hodgekin.
There we are.
Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
You're looking very well. And how's Tricki?
Tricki is very worried. And so am I.
Oh, I'm sorry. It's not the usual, erm…?
Oh, no, no, no, no. He's very worried about you.
Oh? (coughs)
- Sorry. - You see, Tricki? There's no denying it.
Mrs Herriot has told me all about the problem.
- What problem? - Your poor cough.
- Oh. (coughs) - Don't worry, help is at hand.
I was going to bring the recuperators to the surgery,
but as we're outside Mr Hatfield,
you can come with Tricki and me and get them yourself.
No, I don't really think so.
Not caramel Bonne Nuit.
It's a very fine sweet, but not quite what you're looking for, Mrs T.
- You know best, Mr Hatfield. - Now…
I think…
- Is that them? - Creamy enough, but too brittle.
(Hatfield) A good morning to you, my dear. And to you, Mr Herriot.
Good day to you, Geoffrey.
- Alfred. - (cat meows)
Hello, Mrs Filly, Mrs Arnold.
- Hello, Geoff. - Caramel lmperials.
Imperials?
Now, what you had in mind was something more like a Russian caramel,
but a touch softer, a touch creamier.
Now, this isn't a Russian caramel,
but a very choice toffee indeed.
A little more elegant than the average Russian, in my not-so-humble opinion.
- More elegant? - Definitely.
I'll take half a pound, Mr Hatfield.
Hello, Alfred. Hello.
Tricki.
Thank you, Mr Hatfield.
I hope you ladies don't mind me jumping the queue but… It's poor Mr Herriot.
(coughs)
You've been neglecting that cough for too long, James, my boy.
- It certainly looks that way. - Yes, well, excuse me.
- Old English throat recuperators. - You see, Mr Herriot?
Modern science will never find a better way
to send a blast of medicated vapours through your bronchial tubes,
gently soothing away all the irritation. (inhales)
You can smell the goodness from here.
- Thanks, Geoff. What do I owe you? - No, no. This is Tricki's prescription.
He won't hear of you paying. Will you, Tricki? No.
Oh, thank you.
- Thanks a lot. - Ah!
But he insists you try one of Mr Hatfield's special pastilles straightaway.
The vapours'll be surging now.
(hoarsely) Absolutely.
Well, there's no doubt about it.
They're very strong, aren't they?
Right. Well, I have to get back to work.
Thanks so much. I'm sure these'll do the…
- Bye. - (Hatfield) Goodbye.
I'm so glad you came in today, my dear, because…
I've just had a consignment of Belgian truffles come in this morning,
a quality I've not known since the York Confectioners' Fair of 1938.
Oh, Tricki, you hear that?
(clock chimes)
(hums)
(sigh)
Oh. I'm afraid we're not getting very far with these outstanding accounts.
I think it's time for another day of reckoning.
Yes, I'm sure you're right, Helen.
But we should never forget that we're a vital part of this little community of ours,
and life can never be entirely about
when a bill is paid and when it isn't paid, can it?
That was one of the very first things I tried to instil into James when he joined.
And it's difficult, you know, to focus one's mind on final reminders
when spring begins to rouse the Dales again.
I couldn't agree more. Should I leave them and send them out in the autumn?
No, no. No, they ought to go out.
One must draw a line between sentiment and sentimentality.
Are you all right?
My dear Helen, yes, of course I am. Would you like a sherry?
Er, yes, thank you.
Good. It's really only an excuse for me to pour myself a gin and tonic.
Politeness demands that you join me, or I might be reduced to a cup of tea.
Oh, I would never, never wish to appear impolite.
That's a good girl.
I'm always telling James he's a damn lucky man
to have married a girl with impeccable manners.
Oh, thank you.
I rode up to Sedge Top this morning.
- Above Black Hill Farm, you know? - Yes.
I don't really know that it was such a beautiful morning,
but somehow, when you see a fine new crop of lambs
running wild in the river pastures,
when you've ridden through woods full of snowdrops,
all the birds singing for their very lives,
and you've looked up at the hills stretching above you,
and you feel that earth
really can have very little to offer that's more fair.
But all that seems to have left you, uh…
I don't know… not so full of the joys of spring.
I ran into David Braithwaite above Black Hill Farm.
He was driving his ewes down to the farm for the sale, you know.
He talked about getting a good price and doing no more work than he had to do.
He said, I suppose, all the things that he felt he was expected to say.
There's really nothing that one can do about someone else's unhappiness,
even on such a morning.
In the end, you can only turn away.
I put some flowers on Mary's grave this morning.
I don't think he's been in the churchyard since the funeral, over a year ago.
Yes, I think I can understand that, in a way.
If only there was someone he could talk to, someone he wouldtalk to.
Well, perhaps there never will be.
We really, most of us, find it quite difficult to talk about love.
- I'm sorry, Helen. - Whatever for?
This isn't the conversation you expect from a vet of advancing years.
Oh, come on, Siegfried.
I suppose it does no harm
to think about these things once in a while.
We're inclined to take love for granted.
David thought the world of Mary, you know.
"She's a good wife for a hill farmer. She works hard, she's careful with t'brass,
and she knows which end of a ewe's for feeding and which is for dropping lambs."
That's what he said to James once.
Well, yeah.
(sighs)
Helen, you will send off those final reminders this morning?
We have to keep pointing out that we don't run a charity.
There are plenty of people about who think that is the case.
Yes.
You knew my car was in dock
and I wanted to go to the sale at Black Hill Farm.
I'm sorry I forgot. I just forgot.
If Siegfried hadn't come, I'd still be waiting for you.
He did come, and now we're going to the farm together.
It's only a farm sale.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know we're not going just because it's a sale.
Mary was never happy as a young girl.
She didn't really know what she wanted
till she met David and moved to Black Hill Farm.
Didn't last very long for her, though, did it?
(sheep bleats)
They're first class. You'd go a long way to find better.
- Right. We'll make a start, then. - Good.
Come on, girl.
Good girl.
- He's even selling Tess. - Yes, well, she'll be better off working.
And if David does go to the West Riding,
she'll have no kind of life in a town, will she?
That'll do, Thomas.
That'll do, Thomas!
When we get thee a wedding to ring at, I'll let thee know, lad.
Right. Can we make a start, then, gentlemen? And ladies.
The sale this afternoon is on behalf of Mr Braithwaite.
All the usual conditions. If you're here to buy, you'll have all the details you need.
Right. We're selling Black Hill Farm.
With 35 acres inby, a good range of outbuildings,
and grazing rights on Leck Fell and Black Hill.
Also, Mr Braithwaite's first-class flock of Swaledales,
hooved at t'same fells, to be taken over at valuation.
I'm also offering Mr Braithwaite's draft ewes for sale.
Mr Herriot has examined the flock, and has missed his dinner for his trouble.
So when he says he's seen no fitter ewes, it's not said lightly.
Right. We'll begin with the sale of the property.
And then we'll move on to implements and surplus dead stock.
It's a very tidy hill farm, Black Hill.
You'll all know the reputation of Mr Braithwaite's stock well enough.
Let's start at a proper price, then. Will somebody start me?
- Aye, I'll start. 1 ,000. - 1 100? 1200, do we have? 1200.
Do we have 1200? 1200 over there.
1300 we need. 13? 13.
14. Any more?
Are you all done, then? lf you're done, I'm selling.
It's all right, sir. The bid is still with you.
I'll not encourage you to bid against yourself, but if you're that determined…
Are you all done, then?
Well, that's it.
(Tess whimpers)
(knock at door)
David.
- We'll have to go in a few minutes. - Aye.
Well… thanks.
I just wanted to say… You know where we are. If you are leaving Darrowby,
you'll let us know where you're living? There's no need to lose touch.
- I appreciate you saying it. - (knock at door)
- I hope you don't mind, Mr Braithwaite. - Aye.
- You remember my wife, Alice? - Aye.
We've bought the farm, Mr Braithwaite. I can't believe it. Thank you.
Nowt to thank me for. You'll be paying.
I know. It's just, well, it'll be our first proper home.
A start for us, that's what I mean.
No need to wait on t'doorstep. It's yours along with all the rest.
Could we have a bit of a talk sometime? There's no hurry. It's a lot to take in.
I'll be out come Saturday. We'd best be settled up as soon as we can.
That's all there is to say. Good day to you.
Mr Herriot.
The bishop will be glad to see you.
Hatfield.
- Alfred's bad, then? - You'll know more about t'cat than me.
I reckon he's got more to worry about than t'cat now.
(woman) Something crunchy on the outside, Mr Hatfield.
And then with a nice, soft, chewy bit in the middle.
Fruity, if you know what I mean.
No, I'm not sure that I do.
Why don't you look along the shelves and see if there's anything that appeals
while I attend to Mrs Pumphrey?
I'd like some of your exquisite truffles, please, Geoffrey.
Tricki sends some of his chicken liver pate for Alfred.
- Oh, thank you. - We know he's been off his food.
He'll have enjoyed those herrings I brought him for his supper yesterday.
Oh, Mr Herriot, thank you for coming so soon.
Pleasure, Geoff. Morning. Right, let's have a look.
Now you're here, we have nothing to worry about, Alfred.
He just needs his appetite bringing back, Mr Herriot.
He'll be right as rain then.
I think the patient might appreciate a bit more room - not to mention the vet.
I understand completely. I'll try to be back later.
Yes, well, I've work to do, so I'll say bye for now.
Goodbye.
I didn't think he was ill at first, just different, not quite so lively.
- And he's off his food? - Yes.
(weak meow)
Well, temperature's normal.
Mucous membrane's a healthy pink.
I think I'll just give him a simple tonic, Geoffrey.
I want to eliminate all the possible problems, you see.
- Mrs Pumphrey telephoned this morning. - Oh, yes?
And not, for once, about poor Tricki's long-suffering intestinal tract.
No, it's Geoff Hatfield's cat.
- Not in good order, apparently. - Damn. I thought he was on the mend.
Not according to Mrs Pumphrey. She's most concerned about it.
I'm sure. Well, I'll go and see him.
I assumed his silence meant that Alfred was recovering.
Any news of the new incumbents at Black Hill? Bailie, is it?
They've got an awful lot to learn about hill farming.
They're enthusiastic. That's the main thing.
Yes, well, you know, James, hill farmers are born to their hills,
just as their sheep are hefted to them.
It's not easy. I wish 'em luck. There we are. That's that.
I take it they'll be using the practice, will they?
I haven't asked for their statutory pledge in blood, but I think they'll be using us.
Helen says David Braithwaite was over to Leeds for a job.
I haven't seen him since the sale. He's taken rooms behind the Drovers.
Opinion suggests he's more in the Drovers than behind it.
Upset Helen, all this. She was very fond of Mary.
It's a touching story in one way or another.
Seems such a hell of a waste. Her life, now his.
I'll get off. The quicker I go, the sooner I get home.
Helen and the kids are beginning to wonder who I am.
Work isn't everything, you know, James.
You really ought to make more effort to spend time with Helen, just you and her.
All work is not a good thing for a marriage, however happy.
- You don't mind my saying this, do you? - No, no, of course not.
Got any suggestions how we reduce the workload?
It's just a question of organisation, James. Nothing else.
That and paying a bit of attention to the small things.
For instance, how long is it since you last bought Helen a bunch of flowers?
Flowers? Um…
There you are, see, James? Attention to the little things. Makes all the difference.
Any particular flower?
I always think freesias…. You know?
Freesias it is, Siegfried.
Bye.
(hums)
Tess?
- David, we've got Tess in the surgery. - Tess? Don't be daft, James.
I wasn't sure at first. She's in a state, exhausted and starving.
It must have taken her days to get back here.
She'd never have survived another night in the open. Come on.
- There's nowt I can do about it. - I didn't come in here to argue about it.
Hello, David.
- She's a bit of a mess, I'm afraid. - Mr Farnon.
Who did you sell her to in the end?
Bloke over Broughton way. I know no more than that.
She found her way home anyhow.
But it almost cost her her life.
She always were a daft bitch - Tess.
A good worker, though.
She's obviously a bitch who won't work for anyone else.
Fella will get his money back.
Where are you going, David?
I didn't want to come here with you, James.
She were my bitch once. That's all there is to it.
You may have sold Tess, Mr Braithwaite,
but in every sense that means anything to her, she's still your bitch.
There's only one other thing left for her to do to prove the point, and that's to die.
- There's nowt more I can do for her. - You can offer her shelter, food, warmth.
And if you can find it in you, a little affection.
I'll leave it there, James. If Mr Braithwaite wants the animal destroyed,
perhaps you'd inform him of the charge.
Goodbye.
Well, you can't just leave her.
Aye.
I know.
I'll get the car.
Oh, they're lovely!
Thank you.
- I have an appalling confession to make. - Oh, please, tell all.
They're Siegfried's work. He's a bit big to play Cupid, but if I hadn't bought those,
he'd have ended the partnership. He says the romance has gone from our marriage.
That's sweet of him. Not that it has gone from our marriage.
- I wouldn't complain about more. - It's a conspiracy.
- If it is, it's mine. - (phone rings)
- Phone, darling. - Yes. Phone.
Yes.
Darrowby 299… Oh, Mr Hatfield.
No, no, no. I'm glad you rang.
I'm sorry. I thought he was getting better.
No, no. I'll come out straightaway. Yes, of course. Don't worry. Bye.
- There. Thank you, Siegfried. - What?
And thank you, James, for delivering them.
Yes, it does seem a bit like that, doesn't it?
I'm sorry, I've got to go out. I won't get back till after evening surgery.
- I thought you were in for supper. - It's a crisis. Sweet-shop cat.
Isn't getting better after all. You know how Geoffrey feels about Alfred.
He did sound very worried.
Still, I'll take a piece of this.
Mm!
Delicious. Delicious!
- He has lost weight. Dehydrated. - Well, he hasn't been eating.
I'll give him another vitamin injection and we'll keep him on those tablets.
- And his coat's become so dull. - (shop bell)
Nothing abnormal.
Ah, Mr Herriot. Good.
Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
And how is the poor dear?
- It's hard to say. - I'm so sorry.
- I'm sure Alfred is going to get better. - Of course he is.
She's here again, is she?
I beg your pardon, Mrs Tibbett?
Well, there's no sign of any infection. None whatsoever.
Ah, hello, Mrs Tibbett.
Oh. He's looking better already, Mr Hatfield.
- He is, isn't he? - Actually, I haven't done anything yet.
No, but Alfred knows you're here and that's bucked him up.
We all have such faith in you.
- Best skate. - Oh!
- Boned it myself. - Thank you.
I've never known a cat yet who could turn away from that.
- Now, isn't that kind? - Right. That's the vitamin B, Geoff.
Keep a close eye on him, see how he is in a couple of days.
Right.
Hello.
The score so far today, James, is one visit from Mrs Tibbett
- and one phone call from Mrs Pumphrey. - Only one?
Mrs Tibbett presented herself at the surgery just to discover
whether hake or halibut was more likely to stimulate the gastric juices of Geoffs cat.
Mrs Pumphrey telephoned to see whether you had discussed the cat with me.
Yes. Trouble is that both Mrs Tibbett and Mrs Pumphrey
have offered nourishment to Alfred and comfort to Geoff.
In that case, both have my sympathy. You're not progressing with Alfred?
- Going downhill fast. - (phone)
- I'll get it. - Thank you, James.
Darrowby… Oh, hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
Yes. Yes, you have got me in at last.
I'm going to see Mr Hatfield this afternoon.
He's not eating and he's still losing a lot of weight.
- Nothing on abdominal palpitation? - Nothing.
- No sign of constipation? - Nothing.
Mrs Pumphrey.
And Mrs Tibbett.
There are times when man's chief comfort is to stand in a public house with a pint.
Remember Falstaff? "The better part of valour is discretion."
In the which better part… I have saved your bacon.
Let me buy you a drink, then, Mr Braithwaite.
I'm fine as I am.
- A bit of advice I wanted, really. - Good morning.
Morning, Ted. Two halves of bitter, if you please.
And if anybody asks for my partner, he's not here.
- Hello, David. - David! Good morning.
You know sheep, of course. It's all a bit new to me. Cows are what I know.
Me and Alice could never have got started with t'money they want for a dairy farm.
- Your flock… - You bought 'em. Nowt to do with me.
I'm not saying there's owt wrong with t'ewes, but some of 'em…
It sounds daft to say it this way - they're just standing around looking right stupid.
Aye. Well, sheep never were the cleverest animals God put on this earth.
It's more than that. I'm asking if maybe it's something else.
Black Hill's no concern of mine, Mr Bailie.
- If you're worried about… - Thank you, Mr Herriot,
but he's right. It's my business, no one else's.
Sorry to say this, but sympathy for David Braithwaite's gonna be thin on the ground.
(Geoff) Seems there's nothing more we can do for him.
(James) We're not giving up hope yet.
He's been vomiting a bit the last couple of days.
See? Everything points to an abnormality in the alimentary tract.
Just look at his fur. It used to be so glossy.
Nowadays he neglects himself. He takes no care in himself at all.
Before that it was lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, all day long.
He takes so much pride in his appearance.
Yes, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick.
Yes, of course!
- I think I know what it is. - You do?
He's got a furball inside him.
From all that licking. All that fur, you see? I'm sure that's what it is.
Can you give him some medicine, now you know?
Well, it's not quite that simple. I'd…
I'd like to operate and see if I'm right.
Open him up?
We must do something, Geoff.
Otherwise he is going to die.
I'm sure it's a hairball.
God, it feels enormous.
Good God, it's as big as a golf ball!
- Will he live? - There's every chance, Geoff.
He has had major surgery and he is young enough to get over it.
I'll pop back tomorrow with some penicillin and some fluids.
I'm sure you've done your best, Mr Herriot. I'll lock up behind you.
I shan't be opening today.
Try not to worry, Geoff.
Alfie.
Right, darling, I'm off.
- Definitely the weekend off? - Definitely.
Because I'm sending the kids to Dad's at 4:30,
and Siegfried's under instruction to send you home at 6:00.
Whatever happens to the animals, we are spending this weekend alone together.
- Clear? - Absolutely clear.
- Just make sure it is. - Dib, dib. Bye, darling.
Whitish, you said? Sometimes pink, and squashy?
- Turkish delight. - Nothing like that.
May I suggest marshmallows?
That's it. I just couldn't think of the name.
Good afternoon.
Ah, Mr Herriot.
Oh. I'm sure Mrs T won't mind if I serve you first. We all know how busy you are.
Strictly speaking, Mrs Pumphrey was before me.
Not at all. With Alfred recovered, we all owe so much to Mr Herriot.
Don't we, Tricki?
Thanks, Tricki. Well, he's looking fine, isn't he?
Everything's as it should be, just as it should be.
Now, how can I help you?
Well, I'd like a box of chocolates for my wife. Perhaps…
No! There are no "perhaps" allowed here.
This is a Parisian plain selection.
And I'm sure Mrs Herriot won't be disappointed with the fondant centres.
No, I'm sure she won't, Geoff. Thanks.
And it's a gift.
Oh. Thanks.
Thanks a lot, Geoff. Bye.
Bye, Hodgekin.
(Helen) Oh, I knew you'd take that one.
(opera music playing)
It was the first morning of our honeymoon.
A honeymoon spent tuberculin testing.
- It was a lovely honeymoon. - Mm.
That old boy, Mr Allen, he brought you to that pile of stones,
he said, "Your missus can sit there."
First time anybody said that - "your missus".
Sitting on that pile of stones, pushing the hair back off your face.
I can remember what you said as you put the callipers on the first beast's neck.
- You can't, can you? - Yes. Number 38, seven millimetres,
and circumscribed.
(knock at door)
- I knew it. - (knock at door)
Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming.
- David. - I need you at Black Hill.
- Mr Farnon's on duty tonight. - He's out on another call. Please.
Bailie will lose half the flock before he's finished.
He got me up there eventually. There's five ewes dead.
There's half a dozen missing, I don't know where.
We got some of t'flock down. He's done that much damage.
- I'll get the car. Darling, I'm sorry. - Oh, don't be silly. I'll come with you.
I just need to get my coat first.
It's a mess, Mr Herriot.
- Why didn't you call me out sooner? - Only this morning we found t'dead 'uns.
Been two days trying to get 'em all in.
The dog we've got is no use at all. Some of t'ewes just stand and see him off.
I don't think the dog's to blame in this case, Mr Bailie.
Some of these ewes are almost certainly suffering from pregnancy toxaemia.
- Twin lamb disease. - They weren't seeing him off.
They stood their ground because they were too weak to do anything else.
How did it happen?
Toxic ketones accumulating in their bloodstream, actually.
Cause is dietary in the main, especially in the last stages of pregnancy.
You've let this flock go, Mr Bailie,
at a time when you should have been watching them very closely.
What did you think you were doing? Couldn't you see?
He doesn't know about sheep. How could he know?
- We'll want to salvage what we can. - Yes, absolutely. Well, they're not all sick.
And it's no good pretending you're not going to lose more ewes.
Still, recovery can be quick once they've lambed.
Let's get started. We'll pick out the worst ones. I'll do Caesareans on those.
Darling, if you can nip back and pick up as much glycerine and treacle as you can,
vitamin B injections, in the cupboard left of the sink.
Oh, and the tackle, the operating tackle. I think it's sitting on top of the steriliser.
Mrs Bailie, why don't you come and give me a hand?
Right. Hot water, soap and a towel, please, Mr Bailie.
Don't worry. James knows what he's doing.
We've put everything we've got into this farm. There's nowt to fall back on.
You've got some sick ewes and you've lost some, but there's a big flock left.
Suppose it feels if nowt's gone right since we came.
Let's get the things James needs from the surgery to make things right.
Right. Thank you.
Right. You get the tea on the go and I'll take these out to them.
Oh, don't worry. It'll be all right.
It's not just that, not just the ewes.
Feels as if all the happiness we had is all going.
It's been weeks now we've hardly talked to each other, except to snap.
- It's just got worse. - How long have you been married?
- Six months. - You've had a couple of difficult weeks.
- It's not been difficult, it's been terrible. - Sorry. Two terrible weeks.
- Do I sound a bit daft? - No.
You sound like I did a lot of years ago,
when I thought the world was falling apart around my ears.
It's not that bad, though, is it, really?
Just starting out in life together.
- I just want it to be right for us. - If you want it that much, it will be.
When you've made the tea, come and give me a hand in the barn.
Swab, please, darling.
Right.
And the next one, please.
You'll be up again later? Thanks, James.
Look, I know it's not your concern, but it's not over yet.
I know.
Sit.
Come on.
Hello.
It were a bit untidy. It needed tending.
I haven't heard from Richard Bailie for a few days. Is he all right?
We've lost no more ewes. We're nearly done with lambing.
- It's not gone so bad in the end. - What are the Bailies going to do?
They stayed on through lambing, but just to help me.
He's gone back to his dad's farm, over Ulverston.
- I'm buying Black Hill Farm back. - Oh, good.
It's the best thing for you. I could never really see you in Leeds, somehow.
I reckon I'll be listening to a lot of folk tell me that.
Bye, David.
It seems like a very long time since I told you I loved you, Mrs Herriot.
You don't have to say that, James.
Well, maybe now and then.
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