The Lord God Made Them All Read online

‘Ten, eh? Ten and six… ten and six …” For a few seconds her thoughts seemed far away as she plied her needles, then she looked at me again. “Maybe ye don’t know it, Mr. Herriot, but this is the best time of your life.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Aye, there’s no doubt about it. When your children are young and growin’ up around ye—that’s when it’s best. It’s the same for everybody, only a lot o’ folk don’t know it and a lot find out when it’s too late. It doesn’t last long, you know.”

  “I believe I’ve always realised that, Mrs. Clarke, without thinking about it very much.”

  “Reckon you have, young man.” She gave me a sideways smile. “You allus seem to have one or t’other of your bairns with you on your calls.”

  As I drove away from the farm, the old lady’s words stayed in my mind. They are still in my mind, all these years later, when Helen and I are soon about to celebrate our Ruby Wedding of forty years of marriage. Life has been good to us and is still good to us. We are lucky—we have had so many good times—but I think we both agree that Grandma Clarke was right about the very best time of all.

  When I got back to Skeldale House that summer morning, I found Siegfried replenishing the store of drugs in his car boot. His children, Alan and Janet, were helping him. Like me, he usually took his family around with him.

  He banged down the lid of the boot. “Right, that’s that for another few days.” He glanced at me and smiled. “There are no more calls at the moment, James; let’s have a walk down the back.”

  With the children running ahead of us, we went through the passage and out into the long garden behind the house. Here the sunshine was imprisoned between the high old walls, with the wind banished to the upper air and ruffling the top leaves of the apple trees.

  When we reached the big lawn, Siegfried flopped on the turf and rested on his elbow. I sat down by his side.

  My partner pulled a piece of grass and chewed it contemplatively.

  “Pity about the acacia,” he murmured.

  I looked at him in surprise. It was many years since the beautiful tree, which had once soared from the middle of the lawn, had blown down in a gale.

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “It was magnificent.” I paused for a moment. “Remember, I fell asleep against it the first day I came here to apply for a job? We first met right on this spot.”

  Siegfried laughed. “I do remember.” He looked around him at the mellow brick and stone copings of the walls, at the rockery and rose bed, the children playing in the old henhouse at the far end. “My word, James, when you think about it, we’ve come through a few things together since then. A lot of water, as they say, has flown under the bridge.”

  We were both silent for a while, and my thoughts went back over the struggles and the laughter of those years. Almost unconsciously I lay back on the grass and closed my eyes, feeling the sun warm on my face, hearing the hum of the bees among the flowers, the croaking of the rooks in the great elms that overhung the yard.

  My colleague’s voice seemed to come from afar. “Hey, you’re not going to do the same trick again, are you? Going to sleep in front of me?”

  I sat up, blinking. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Siegfried, I nearly did. I was out at a farrowing at five o’clock this morning and it’s just catching up with me.”

  “Ah, well,” he said, smiling. “You won’t need your book tonight.”

  I laughed. “No, I won’t Not tonight.”

  Neither Siegfried nor I suffered from insomnia, but on the rare occasions when sleep would not come we had recourse to our particular books. Mine was The Brothers Karamazov, a great novel, but to me, soporific in its names. Even at the beginning I felt those names lulling me. “Alexey Fyodorovich Karamazov was the third son of Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov.” Then, by the time I had encountered Grigory Kutuzov, Yefim Petrovich Pole-nov, Stepanida Bedryagina and a few others, I was floating away.

  With Siegfried, it was a book on the physiology of the eye which he kept by his bedside. There was one passage that never failed to start him nodding. He showed it to me once: “The first ciliary muscle is inserted into the ciliary body and by its contraction pulls the ciliary body forward and so slackens the tension on the suspensory ligament, while the second ciliary muscle is a circular muscle embedded in the ciliary body and by its contraction drags the ciliary body towards the crystalline lens.” He had never managed to get much further than that.

  “No,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I won’t need any encouragement tonight.” I rolled onto my side. “By the way, I was at Matt Clarke’s this morning.” I told him what Grandma had said.

  Siegfried selected a fresh piece of grass and resumed his chewing.

  “Well, she’s a wise old lady and she’s seen it all. If she’s right we’ll have no regrets in the future, because we have both enjoyed our children and been with them from the beginning.”

  I was beginning to feel sleepy again when my partner startled me by sitting up abruptly.

  “Do you know, James,” he said, “I’m convinced that the same thing applies to our job. We’re going through the best time there, too.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Sure of it. Look at all the new advances since the war—drugs and procedures we never dreamed of. We can look after our animals in a way that would have been impossible a few years ago, and the farmers realise this. You’ve seen them crowding into the surgery on market day to ask advice—they’ve gained a new respect for the profession and they know it pays to call in the vet now.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “We’re certainly busier than we’ve ever been, with the Ministry work going full blast, too.”

  “Yes, everything is buzzing. In fact, James, I’d like to bet that these present years are the high noon of country practice.”

  I thought for a moment. “You could be right. But if we are on the top now, does it mean that our lives will decline later?”

  “No, no, of course not. They’ll be different, that’s all. I sometimes think we’ve only touched the fringe of so many other things, like small-animal work.” Siegfried brandished his gnawed piece of grass at me and his eyes shone with the enthusiasm that always uplifted me. “I tell you, this, James. There are great days ahead!”

  A Biography of James Herriot

  James Herriot (1916–1995) was the pen name of James Alfred “Alf” Wight, an English veterinarian whose tales of veterinary practice and country life have delighted generations. Many of Herriot’s works were bestsellers and have been adapted for film and television. His stories rely on numerous autobiographical elements taken from his life in northern England’s Yorkshire County, and they depict a simple, rustic world deeply in touch with the cycles of nature.

  Wight was born on October 3, 1916, in Sunderland, in the northeast corner of England. Shortly after his birth, his parents moved to Glasgow, Scotland, where his father worked as a shipbuilder and as a pianist in a local cinema. His mother was a seamstress and professional singer. At age twelve, Wight adopted his first pet, an Irish setter named Don. The bond he formed with his dog led to his interest in veterinary medicine.

  Wight graduated from the Glasgow Veterinary College in 1939 at the age of twenty-three. After working briefly in Sunderland, the town where he was born, he moved to the town of Thisk in Yorkshire County, England, where he settled down. In Yorkshire, he met Joan Danbury, whom he married in 1941. The couple had two children. Son James Alexander, born 1943, would go on to become a vet and partner in his father’s practice, and daughter Rosemary, born 1947, became a family physician.

  Though he’d always had literary ambitions, Wight got a late start as a professional writer. Starting a family, serving in the Royal Air Force during World War II, and then establishing his own busy veterinary practice all delayed his literary debut. In 1966 at the age of fifty, he finally began writing regularly with the encouragement of his wife. After trying his hand unsuccessfully in areas such as sportswriting, Wight found modest success