02x03 - We Can But Hope

[bunniefuu]

Hello, Mr. Herriot.

Hello, Tom.

Good of you to help out
the Dalbys like this.

They've always been good
friends of my grandparents.

Mrs. Dalby's up in the field.

I'll take you.

Thanks, Tom.

Morning, Mr. Herriot.

Thanks for coming out to see us.

And thank you for
being there yesterday.

Billy was a good man.

I wanted to pay my respects.

Their breathing don't
sound right, Mr. Herriot.

They were really fit
when they turned out

earlier this month.

Then, well.

Let's have a look,
then, shall we?

The stirks have got
husk, I'm afraid.

For an older cow, this
may not be a problem,

but as they are still so young.

Aye, and what is husk, exactly?

Well, it's a parasite.

A tiny worm which infests
the bronchial tubes

and sets up bronchitis.

In fact, that's the problem,
parasitic bronchitis.

The larvae climb up
the blades of grass

and the cattle eat
them as they graze.

Some pastures are
badly affected with it.

I'm sorry but they're
pretty bad, Mrs. Dalby.

A mild att*ck isn't so bad

if you can get them off
the grass right away,

but this has gone a
long way beyond that.

What can we do about
it, Mr. Herriot?

For a start, we can get
them all inside immediately.

Every mouthful of this grass
is adding to the worm burden.

Right you are, Mr. Herriot.

Can I tempt you with
the last egg, Mrs. H?

No thanks.

Seems a shame to waste it.

I thought you'd be
joining your friends

down in London for the cricket.

Yes, I thought so too,

but unfortunately
tickets require money

and money requires wages,
neither of which I possess.

So instead, my plan is
three uninterrupted days

with my feet up, the radio on,
and a lovely, cool glass of…

Well, it took all of five hours,

but Gladys produced a
whopping 18 piglets.

Darrowby record, I believe.

Smells like one, too.

They need cleaning.

Get them off.

Any chance of some breakfast?

I can make you a bacon sandwich.
And those.

I think I've had enough pig for
one day. Got any eggs?

You can have the rest of
this one, if you like.

So I'm out working
my trousers off

while you're lazing
around stuffing your face

with my hard-earned eggs?

Such is life, big brother.

- Such is life.
- Go and get changed.

I'll make you some toast.

You really didn't need to
go to all this trouble.

Nonsense.

I hope that tea isn't
too strong for you.

It's perfect.
Thank you, Mrs. Dalby.

I'll be back up tomorrow
to check on the stirks.

Meanwhile, it's very important
that you keep them inside.

Oh. But they'll need feeding.

Well, at this point,

I would start by giving
them the best possible food,

good hay and high-protein cake.

Cake?

That's
expensive stuff, isn't it?

And if we give them the hay now,

then we'll need to
buy more for winter.

I know,

but a good diet is our
best hope at this stage.

And they can't go out to
feed on the grass, ever?

No.
I'm sorry, not on those fields.

If it was a mild att*ck, you
could have turned them out

after the dew had
left in the mornings,

- but that's not the case here.
- Right.

Well, thank you, Mr. Herriot.

We know where we are anyway.

Billy, love, why don't you
take your brother outside

for a kickaround?

Have we got a young Gordon
Hodgson in the making?

He's my favorite player.

Good choice.

Go on, Billy, love.

Oi, you.

- Excuse me.
- Come on.

So cheeky.

Do you think we can save them?

Well, we can always hope.

Funny.

That's what my Billy
always used to say.

He was ever the optimist.

Even when the doctor
said it was cancer,

Billy still insisted
he'd be fine.

Time is so fleeting,
Mr. Herriot.

Any other calls come in?

Nothing.

Shame.

I guess we will be
taking a day off.

Not so fast.

- Equipment needs polishing.
- Done.

Well, then the medicines
need topping up.

Done, all done.

Play starts in five
minutes, Mrs. H.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.
What about the…

What's wrong with Tristan
enjoying the cricket?

He spent all last night
polishing and topping things up.

There's always more to be done.

Lambing season's almost over.

Summer's our quietest
time of year.

Surely the lad's earned
a day or two off now.

Earned?

Well, now he's passed
his exams and all.

Oh!

James, I'm so sorry,
I didn't see you there.

I've probably had
worse flung at me.

I wanted to drop in and see
how you were after yesterday.

Oh, I'm all right, thanks.

It's Phyllis we're
worried about.

I was just over there now.

Her stirks have got husk.

Oh, on top of everything else.

We offered to help
her out with the kids,

but she's determined
she can manage.

Our Jenny was around the same
age as Billy when my mam d*ed.

All the things that family
never got to do together.

Now they never will.

Must have brought back a
lot of painful memories.

Life's cruel sometimes.

- Be seeing you again soon?
- I hope so.

What are you doing
tomorrow night?

Going out with you,
by the sounds of it.

I could pick you up at seven?

I'd like that.

Come on, Hutton!

Make us proud.

I'll get it.

Thank you.

What on earth?

Tristan, just the man.

Help me carry these
out to the barn.

- What's going on?
- You'll see.

Lovely.

Ugh.

Now, one cannot be a great vet

until one has reared
one's own animals.

Funny, never heard
that one before.

Mm-hm.

So here you are, Tristan.

Meet your new brood.

Wait, what?

Such is life, little brother.

May I suggest you make a start
building a nest box for them?

A nest box?

Nothing like a fresh
egg, warm from the nest.

Hang on, how come James never
had to rear his own animals?

This better not be
a flock of sheep.

Is Uncle Herriot here?

No, Uncle Mr. Herriot
is not here, I'm afraid.

As I'm sure you're aware,

Mrs. Pumphrey is attending
the Test match in London

and I am under
strict instruction

into his guardianship
for the duration.

I'm sure Mr. Farnon can
provide temporary guardianship

until Uncle Herriot returns.

Most kind.

Now the evening sun

sends long shadows
over the gasometers,

Hutton has reached 150,

and with Leyland by his side,
looks like going on to 1,000.

Oh, thought you were Siegfried.

Since when do we have hens?

Since my big brother decided

I need to rear my own animals.

- What for?
- Exactly.

I thought now that I'm
a fully qualified vet,

he'd finally stop hectoring me.

Perhaps he just doesn't
know how to yet.

I don't know.

Doesn't seem to matter what
I do, it's never enough.

Then why don't you try
standing up to him?

Worked for me.

- You make it sound easy.
- Perhaps it is.

Have you met my brother?

- What is this supposed to be?
- A nest box?

Give it here.

How was your visit
to the Dalbys?

- It's not looking good.
- Oh, dear.

This is Maggie, by the way.

Say hello, Maggie.

And, oh, look,
that one here's Brenda.

Let me guess, they're all named
after your ex-girlfriends.

No, not at all.

Here she is.

This is Helen, especially
for you, James.

Who knows?

This one might even let you
take her out.

I'll have you know
that Helen and I

are going out on a
date tomorrow night.

James!

That's fantastic, sorry, news!

And where are you
taking the lovely Helen?

Probably just the Drovers.

The Drovers?

Look, tomorrow is your big
chance to finally impress Helen.

You should take her
to the Renniston.

Trust me, women like
to be wined and dined.

I don't know.

Seems a bit grand.

Can't you see it, Jim?

The music oozing out of
Benny Thornton's trombone

and you full of champagne,

and Helen leaning
across the table,

the look of love in her eyes.

Oh, kiss me, Helen…

Oh, OK.

Maybe.

I mean, after Hugh,

she is probably more used
to the finer things in life.

You still at it?

Sorry.

I'm still struggling
to find anything

that might help Mrs. Dalby.

Don't worry.

Here, I'll make a fresh pot.

Oh, Mrs. Hall, do you
have a spare stamp?

Leave it here and
I'll post it for you.

Thank you.

- How is your mother?
- Still struggling.

I'm just trying to help
out where I can, but it's.

I'm sure she's grateful for
any help you can manage.

I don't know. It still doesn't
feel like it's enough.

To be honest, I just,

I still have no idea
what I'm supposed to do

about the Glasgow job.

Tricki's finally
grown on you, then?

Like a fungus.

Well, he's definitely
taken a shine to you.

I assure you I've given him
absolutely no reason to.

Could say the same
about Tristan.

He'd follow you to
the ends of the earth.

Only to push me off.

You unintelligent man.

It amazes me how wide of the
mark you can be about Tristan.

How are Phyllis's
stirks getting on?

Not good.

It's the worst case of
husk I think I've seen.

What are you up to?

So we've taken the
stirks off the field

and I've suggested a
diet of hay and cake.

Mm-hm.

But without an effective
treatment to speak of,

I'm a bit lost as to
what else I can do

to try and save them.

Perhaps you can't save them.

No, every problem
has a solution.

I just need to find it.

I take it you've given
them the throat injection.

That's just an
old farmer's tale.

Don't say that to their faces.

I don't want to give
her any more false hope

than I already have done.

And there's not much evidence to
suggest it actually helps.

There's not much evidence
that it doesn't help, either.

So what have you got to lose?

Morning, all.

- Morning.
- Morning, Tristan.

Morning, Tricki.

Hello.

Fresh eggs coming right up.

We'll make a
poulterer of you yet.

Good morning, ladies.

What have you got for
me today, then, hey?

They're just getting
used to their new home.

Poppycock, they're chickens.

They don't know their
beak from their feet.

It's your job to know
what's best for them.

My job, exactly.

And I say they just
need a bit of time

and they'll figure it
out for themselves.

What they need is guidance.

Find yourself something
resembling an egg

- then put it in the nest.
- No.

No, what?

No, I'm not listening
to you any more.

You put me in charge
of these hens,

so I'm going to do it my way.

You're being ridiculous.

And I can guarantee that
by tomorrow morning,

these hens will have eggs coming
out of their…

…ears.

Oh, damn it, you
stupid bloody animal.

Morning, Mrs. Dalby.

- Hello.
- How are they today?

Still fighting.

I've been giving them the
cake and hay like you said.

I emptied my penny
jar to pay for cake.

You're a good lad, Billy.

Your dad would be proud.

Hey, Billy, give us
a hand with this.

I actually dipped into
the family savings

to pay for the cake.

But Billy was so
desperate to help

that I let him think
we used his pennies.

Probably scatter them on the
farm when he's not looking,

let him think he's found more.

What about a throat injection?

Farmers round here swear by it.

We could try.

It's a mix of chloroform,
turpentine, and creosote.

There's no guarantee
that it will help.

But we can always hope.

Right, Mr. Herriot?

Right, aye.

Oh, it's nothing serious.

Just a small cut,
by the looks of it.

Well, thank God for that.

Mrs. Pumphrey would have
our guts for garters.

That'll teach him to get
involved with the chickens.

Will it?

What?

You know very well what.

If you'd left well alone, none
of this would have happened.

How is it my fault that he…

All he wants to do
is make you proud,

but you set these
standards for him

that are impossible to meet.

If you just left him
to it once in a while,

maybe he'd surprise you.

We're not talking about
Tricki Woo any more, are we?

We're simple folk,
really, Mr. Farnon.

We all just want the
occasional pat on the head.

Isn't that right, Tricki?

Hm?

Hm?

Thanks for helping us with
all of this, Mr. Herriot.

Yeah, thank you, Mr. Herriot.

Not at all.

You did all the hard work.

I had the easy job.

Mr. Herriot!

Mrs. Dalby!

Hey, Billy,

why don't you give me a hand
to fetch them some more hay?

I'm so sorry.

I'm not a farmer.

Billy was the farmer.

He knew everything
there was to know

and he was so proud the
life we'd built here

and I'm letting him down.

Phyllis, you're not
letting anyone down.

I know it can feel
like that sometimes,

but you're doing
the best you can.

But what if my best
isn't good enough?

What you're trying
to do here is hard.

Anyone would doubt themselves.

Mum, are we going
to be all right?

Come here, love.

Of course we are.

Here we go, James.

All fresh and aired.

Thanks, Mrs. H.

Oh, very handsome.

It'll be a miracle if they
make it through the night.

Having been proved
wrong more than once,

I've learned never
to underestimate

the resilience of nature.

The farmers down at the Drovers

seem to think they just can't
run the place on their own.

What else is she going to do?

Well, she could sell it while
it's still worth something.

Sell the farm and
do what, exactly?

Phyllis and Billy put everything
they had into that farm.

She's not going
to abandon it now,

not root those kids from the
only home they've ever known.

Phyllis knows what's
best for her family,

despite of what
others might think.

Thanks, well I best be off.

- Cheerio.
- Good luck.

Oh,

wait a sec.

I've posted your letter for you.

Thanks.

I know it's hard, but you've
done what you can today

for Phyllis and your mother.

Now go have a wonderful
time with Helen.

It's important.

Mr. Ingledew.

Good evening.

I presume this is yours.

I saw them arrive yesterday.

Tristan?

Tristan!

Thanks, James.

Come on, Annabel,
let's get you home.

God, that was close.

Damn it.

Oh, dear.

You'd better come in, James.

Oh dear, indeed.

The car ran into a bit of
a ditch on the way over.

Perhaps you can borrow a
pair of my dad's shoes.

- Oh no, that's quite all right.
- You can't go out like that.

Dad, lend James some
shoes and socks, will you?

- There's really no need…
- Nonsense.

Dad don't mind.

Here. You can wipe your
trousers down with this.

Thanks.

There you go.

Me old dancing shoes.

Been a while since
they've had an outing.

Oh, honestly, I'll be fine.

Are they not to
your liking, James?

No, no.

No, these are,

they're perfect.

Thank you, Mr. Alderson.

Aye.

I'll go see what Helen's up to.

James is here.

Can you make sure Dad
checks the tarpaulin

on the barn roof, and make sure?

Stop worrying.

Go enjoy yourself.

Me and Dad will be
just fine without you.

Sorry, James.

I thought we could go to
The Renniston for dinner.

The Renniston?

Fancy.

I should go and
get changed, then.

No, you look…

perfect.

Go on, then.

Don't want to be late
for The Renniston.

I won't be late.

Enjoy yourself, love.

Goodbye.

If you prefer to
go to the Drovers,

I'd be fine with that.

You don't want to go?

Oh no, of course,
it's a lovely idea.

I just meant,

well, if you didn't wanna go.

No, of course I want to go.

- Great.
- Great.

I'll get it!

Tristan!

I give you this
simple, little job,

one would have thought
even you would be hard put

to make a mess of it, and
look at the situation.

Not one solitary
egg have we seen,

the bloody hens are flying
about the place like pigeons

and we are now permanently
estranged from our neighbors.

I'm sorry, Siegfried.

I'm sure I put the latch down.

I always double-check.

I don't ,

want to hear it.

Just try not to burn the
house down while I'm out.

Who's up for games night?

Sorry, Mrs. Hall, I'm
out with Diana tonight.

In fact, I'm running
late as it is.

I've got to see a
man about a chicken.

Sorry, Mrs. H.

Right.

Just me then, is it?

Miss Alderson, how
lovely to see you again.

Hello.

Would you care for a table, sir?

Yes, please.

Table for two.

Are you staying, sir?

Yes, of course I'm staying.

This way, please.

Thank you.

Thank you.

May I have your
room number, sir?

Room number?

Oh, I'm not living in the hotel.

Oh, not staying then.

Ignore him.

How's Phyllis getting on?

She lost one of her stirks
when I was there today.

Oh, James, I'm so sorry.

That must have been
difficult for you both.

I just wish I'd
seen them sooner.

She might have had a
fighting chance a week ago.

Well, you're there now,

and if anyone can pull
it off, it's Phyllis.

I just worry it's
too little, too late.

It's not like you to
give up so easily.

You didn't see her today.

She's already having to use
her winter supply of hay

and spending money that she
doesn't have on expensive cake.

I just want to give her
any more false hope.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't be
burdening you with all of this.

You're not burdening me.

It's nice that you care.

Farming's a tough life.

So much loss and hardship.

It's bloody hard work.

Do you ever think
you could leave?

Do something different?

Me?

I think about it all the time.

I think what it might be like

to not have dirt under
my fingernails every day,

not have to worry about
money, or shovel muck.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I've been thinking about
Phyllis and farming

and what you were
saying just now, and.

And what, James?

Well, perhaps it doesn't
have to be a struggle

for Phyllis.

All the other farmers think
she should sell the farm,

and maybe they're right.

Maybe it's not too late.

She could sell up, move away,

make a fresh start
somewhere new.

All the memories of Billy
are tied up in that farm.

All the boy's memories.

That would mean
her leaving behind

everything she's ever known.

It's what I had to do.

That's different.

You made a choice to come here.

It doesn't mean it was easy.

My life was in Glasgow,
my friends, my family.

It's not the same.

Why not?

Because I'm not a farmer?

Because your life isn't
the ground under your feet.

You haven't poured blood, sweat,

and tears into
the soil you plow.

You haven't raised
animals from birth

knowing they could be
taken from your any moment,

and with them, your livelihood.

I feel like you're making
my argument for me.

Billy Dalby took on that
farm from his father,

and his father before him.

It's young Billy's birthright.

So long as there's
something left to inherit.

So you can see yourself
ever leaving, then?

Well, I'm not going to
live with my dad forever,

but I could never
be too far away.

I can't expect you
to understand that.

No.

You're probably right.

Is there a spare
one of those going?

Coming right up.

Its not the good
stuff I'm afraid,

Siegfried would k*ll me.

As long as it's strong
and large, I don't care.

Want to talk about it?

Not really.

What have you been up to?

Oh, the usual,
disappointing Siegfried,

annoying the neighbors,
creating avian anarchy.

Siegfried still
on your case then?

I think it's his life's
work to be on my case.

His magnum opus will be
the utter destruction

and destitution of
his little brother.

Did you try standing up
to him, like I suggested?

I did, yes.

Now it's made everything worse.

But I've got a plan.

What are you going to do,
just keep laying eggs?

I don't know.

It may seem like
the easy option,

but won't it feel like
a shallow victory?

A victory is a
victory, nonetheless.

Hello.

Look at that!

He's only
gone and bloody done it.

Oh, the taste of a fresh egg,
can't b*at it.

Are you heading up
to the Dalby's today?

Unfortunately, yes.

I have no idea what to
say to the poor woman.

I could see the look
of hope on her face

when I gave the stirks
the throat injection.

I don't know.

I just don't feel
like I'm being honest.

Honesty is the best policy.

Of course, the throat injection
was never going to work.

What?

But you were the one that
told me to give it to them.

This isn't about the injection.

Look, it's the worst
part of the job,

when you realize everything
is in the lap of the gods.

But at least now you can
look Phyllis in the eye

and tell her you have tried
absolutely everything.

And as long as you've
tried everything,

then you've done your job.

You'll find the right thing
to say, I have no doubt.

Thanks, Siegfried.

I know that I can set these
high standards at times,

and perhaps come across
as slightly overbearing.

Slightly.

It's only because I want
the best for you both.

And,

Tristan, maybe I should
trust you a bit more.

And recognize your successes
when you have them.

It's a week's wage.

Well done.
You were right about the hens

and you've more than
proved yourself of late.

Thanks, Siegfried.

You've earned it.

Actually, I've got a
confession to make.

I think I'd better get going.

Confession?

It's just, I wanted so
desperately to make you proud

and do something right
for a change and,

I lied.

I bought the eggs
from the grocers

and planted them in the
nest box last night.

Here.

Right.

Take it.

We all make mistakes.

The thing is to forgive
and learn from them.

What mistakes?

Well, it might have been me
that left the barn door open.

In my defense, Tricky had
just been att*cked and,

I suppose that makes
us even, doesn't it?

Does it?

I'd take it if I were you.

I'll get it.

Thanks, Siegfried.

Mr. Ingledew.

Found these in our
vegetable patch.

I'm guessing they belong to you,

seeing as I don't keep any hens.

What are you thinking?

Right, thank you.

And I do apologize for…

What do you know?

They did figure it out
for themselves, after all.

Perhaps what we've
learned from this

is that the hens might be better
placed with the Ingledews.

I suppose we all end
up where we belong,

eventually.

I see you've lost another one.

We have.

But Mrs. Dalby's sure she
noticed an improvement

in the others' appetite.

That must be a good sign.

Let's go have a look
at them, shall we?

How are they
looking, Mr. Herriot?

I wish I had some better news,

but they're still very sick.

Now, I know you've told me
not to turn the young beasts

out onto the field any more,

but isn't there a way around it?

Perhaps it could help to
get them back outside.

No, I'm sorry.
Until there's a vaccine,

there's no way of safeguarding
them against husk.

Then we will just have
to find another solution.

Mrs. Dalby,

this is what I've been
meaning to talk to you about.

I've been giving the matter
a great deal of thought and,

well, you've lost
so much already,

I just couldn't live with myself

if I didn't give you
my honest opinion.

I see.

I'm so sorry.

I really am, but we've
tried everything now,

and there's still
a very real chance

you could end up
losing the entire herd.

So there's a chance
that we might not then?

A slim one, yes.

I've given you so much
false hope already.

I really think that now
your best course of action

is to sell the farm
before it's too late.

There's nothing false
about hope, Mr. Herriot.

Yes, but…

I appreciate your honesty, I do.

But I've been giving it a
great deal of thought too,

and I understand
the risk involved.

But, when I look around

I don't just see the things
I've lost or might lose,

I see everything I have.

I see my boys.

How I have so much worth
fighting for still.

And I owe it to them, to
my family, not to give up.

Even if it is the slimmest
of chances, I'll take it.

I might not have been able to
save my husband, Mr. Herriot,

but I can save our farm.

Our home.

So we're staying put.

Like my Billy
always used to say,

only them as has them
can lose them.

Now, come on,

you must have one
of these scones,

they're fresh from the oven.

Okay, Billy?

No time for getting
it on, Mr. Herriot.

I'm man of the house now, got
some stirks that need savin'.

Of course.

- See you, Billy.
- Bye, Mr. Herriot.

He's done it!

Well done.

Our boy.

- Lad.
- Brilliant.

Brilliant.

Wonderful.

I'll get it.

Tricky, Mummy's here.

Darling, dearest boy,

how have you been?

Mrs. Pumphrey, do come in.

Thank you.

Forgive my early arrival.

Our separation became
far too unbearable.

- Quite all right.
- I'll fetch some tea.

Do sit down, Mrs. Pumphrey.

- Allow me.
- Thank you.

I so appreciate his
Uncle Herriot looking

Where is our dear James?

Out on a call, I'm afraid.

Oh, what a pity.

How was your trip?

Hutton and Leyland
made quite the pair.

I almost dropped my binoculars
in all the excitement.

We just heard, Hutton
b*at Bradman's record.

Terrific!

Of course, Tricki
suffers most dreadfully

from travel sickness,

so we're forced to be
apart for the duration.

It was the whiff of manure
wafting from the pitch

that made me yearn for
home and my beloved boy.

Which reminds me,

I do hope you are
practicing your inswinger,

ready for my little
cricket match this summer.

Of course, wouldn't miss it
for the world, Mrs. Pumphrey.

Wonderful.

Oh, look Tricky, your favorite.

He does love a homemade biscuit.

They're actually for
you, Mrs. Pumphrey.

Oh, I only eat a Fortnum myself.

But Tricky is a
little less fussy.

And how was my darling boy been?

I do hope he has
behaved himself.

Well.

Honesty.

Yes, um,

truth be told, there
was a slight incident.

I took temporary
charge of Tricky

while James, While Uncle
Herriot, was on a call,

turned my back for a second,

and Tricky did receive a tiny
peck from one of our hens.

I take full responsibility,
I'm terribly sorry.

Oh, Tricky always goes
completely cr*cker-dog

when there's a chicken in sight.

Tricky woo-lally I call it.

I couldn't tell you what
he has against them,

but that'll be the fifth
peck he has had this year.

Oh, right.

Perhaps it's because
he's an only dog.

I do think that an only
develops more prejudices

than one from a large family.

Wouldn't you agree?

Try not to be upset.

You will see your
uncles again very soon.

And the pain of
parting is nothing

to the joy of meeting again.

Thank you.

Good day, Mrs. Pumphrey.

Goodbye, Tricky.

Oh, of course, Tricky, yes,

where are my manners?

Francois, would you mind?

You reminded me.

To say thank you.

Oh.

To his Uncle Herriot.

The kippers, exquisite.

Right, home, please, Francois.

Toodle-oo.

Phyllis lost another stirk.

A few more are on their way out.

But she is determined
to keep going,

even if it's only
with half a herd.

You were right.

I get it now, and
I'm sorry about.

This was my mum's favorite
spot, up here on this roof.

Used to come up here
at lunchtime and

She'd point out different
parts of the farm and tell me,

that's where you
scraped your knee

trying to jump over the bales.

That's where you helped out
with your first lambing.

And that spot there,

that's where I told your dad
I were pregnant with you.

And his grin filled his
whole face.