London!
“Not to my knowledge. Headaches, some dizziness. A little nausea.”
“Yes, that’s a good sign, then. Take her home and put her to bed. Miss Crawford, I’d like you to sit with her. In a day or two, if the symptoms disappear, we can assume that Lydia will be all right. If the symptoms persist, then I’ll keep her in my surgery for observation.”
“Rather than impose on a guest, Roger can keep an eye on her,” Mrs. Ellis began, but the doctor shook his head.
“Miss Crawford knows what to look for. I’ve already explained that to Lydia.”
“Thank you, Dr. Tilton,” Mrs. Ellis said. “I’m so sorry to disturb you this late, but Miss Crawford was most insistent.”
“As she should have been.” He helped Lydia put on her coat and saw us to the door. As I turned to allow Lydia to precede me, I noticed a woman at the head of the stairs, and wondered if she’d been listening. I thought perhaps she was the doctor’s wife. She moved out of sight almost at once.
As Mrs. Ellis started the motorcar, Lydia said anxiously over her shoulder to me, “Bess, do you mind? I told him I’d fallen in London. That you’d brought me home. I couldn’t tell him-not when he’s coming to dinner!”
“Yes, I understand,” I replied, trying to keep her calm. “Put it out of your mind tonight.”
“I’m so sorry. But could you stay another day? Just one more?”
It dawned on me then. That I was the excuse why she couldn’t share a room with her husband. If I was to look in on her throughout the night, she must sleep elsewhere. Coming home was one thing. Facing Roger Ellis in the seclusion of their bedroom was another. I couldn’t be sure whether it was because she was still afraid of him-or because she didn’t want to answer his questions.
I had hoped that Lydia would spend a quiet night and that my return to London the next afternoon would still be possible.
Instead at two o’clock in the morning when I looked in on her in the guest room where she was sleeping, she was pacing the floor.
“I can’t sleep,” she told me at once. “I ought to be tired to the bone, and instead every time I shut my eyes, they fly open again.”
Pulling my dressing gown closer about me in the chill of the room-the fire had burned down to ashes-I asked, “What’s worrying you, Lydia? Your husband seemed to be glad to see you. He was very pleasant during dinner. Your sister-in-law, Margaret, was very solicitous. She likes you, that’s obvious even to me.”
Margaret was very like her mother, a tall, slender woman with a very pretty face and a nature to match.
Touching her bruises, Lydia said, “They’ll be here this afternoon. Everyone. George, Eleanor, even Henry, if his leave comes through. And then there’s Dr. Tilton and his wife. The rector and his sister. It’s one thing to tell Dr. Tilton that I fell in London. I can’t lie to everyone else. Roger will be angry with me. But I can hardly tell them the truth, can I?”
“Just say that you had an accident. You needn’t go into details.”
“Roger told me he was sorry, but I couldn’t tell if he meant it.”
“You’ve hardly given him a chance to speak to you alone. Have you thought about that?”
She walked to the window, then turned and came back again. “I’m afraid.”
“Don’t you trust him?”
“I don’t trust myself, Bess. I’ll start to cry. Besides, he hasn’t shown any softness toward me. He was just as pleasant to you, if you think about it.”
I disagreed. But it was clear that Lydia was still uncertain of her welcome.
“Lydia, I must go to Somerset. I’ve been looking forward to seeing my family.”
“Another day. Two. They’ll arrive tomorrow, and the service will be the next day. Friday. Sunday they’ll leave. George can drive you back to London. He won’t mind at all. I know what Roger said, but George lost his brother and then Alan, after being wounded himself. It hasn’t been easy.”
“Lydia, I’ve promised. My family-I-”
“I know. Dear God, I know.” She put her hands to her head, one on either side. “I can’t think for it hurting. Could I have something for it?”
“No, it isn’t wise to take a sedative when concussion is suspected.”
With a sigh she nodded. “All right. I’ll try to sleep again.”
I left her then, and went back to my own bed. When I came again at four, she was sleeping, but restlessly, without dreaming. I stood in the doorway, watching her toss and turn, then went again to my own room.
The next morning Lydia came down to breakfast looking pale and anxious. Mrs. Ellis hovered, asking me if all was well. Roger, watching his wife, made no comment. I thought perhaps Mrs. Ellis had told him the doctor’s diagnosis, and I wondered if he’d taken it with a grain of salt. But Gran had something to say.
“This is ridiculous, Lydia. Brace up, and let’s get on with the work that needs to be done before anyone sets foot through our door. You can feel sorry for yourself when they’ve all gone again.”
“Gran-Dr. Tilton was worried about her.”
“Yes, Amelia, no doubt he was. But what are we to do? It’s Lydia’s fault, after all, that we’re behind as we are.”
Roger said, “Gran-”
But she interrupted him. “Roger, dear, you have enough to do. We’ll manage, somehow.”
“I’ll help,” I volunteered. After all, it was several hours until my train left. And so I found myself swept up in the last-minute preparations.
There were linens still in need of airing, and beds needing to be made up. Margaret and I worked together, and she told me how she was counting on Henry receiving leave.
“I tell myself not to hope, but I can’t help it. He and Alan were close, you know. It would mean so much to him to be here.”
The weather had cleared marginally, but fires had to be built in all the guest rooms. While Lydia was given the task of polishing the silver, I set the table in the dining room. Mrs. Ellis, looking in on me, apologized again for putting a guest to work, but I was reminded by the strain in her eyes that her son’s death was still fresh, and I said only, “It’s all right, truly it is.”
“I know you’re looking forward to Christmas with your family. But could I prevail upon you to stay until Sunday? You’ve been so good to Lydia, I hesitate to ask more of you, but I’ll feel so much better if you’re here to keep an eye on her. I’ll have my hands full, and I’m not sure she’ll take proper care of herself. I’ll ask Roger to drive you directly to Somerset. He’ll be glad to do it.”
I didn’t think he would.
And where was Simon? Had he got my message? I’d thought he might come to fetch me, rather than leave me to take today’s train.
“Could you at least speak to your mother, and ask her to let us keep you a little longer?”
What could I say to that plea?
“If someone could drive me into Hartfield, to find a telephone?” I said.
“Of course! Roger has a list of things Mrs. Long requires for the kitchen. There’s a telephone at the The King’s Head,” Then she asked, frowning, “Will she mind terribly? Your mother?”
I thought very likely my mother would. But she would not make a fuss.
Roger Ellis came to collect me shortly before eleven and drove me into Hartfield.
He was, he said, glad to escape the madhouse that Vixen Hill had become. But I thought he actually wanted to ask me some questions.
I was right.
The clouds were heavy with moisture, dark and threatening, but no rain had fallen. As we reached the track that carried us through this part of Ashdown Forest, Roger swore under his breath as a small herd of some twenty sheep blocked our way. Their thick coats seemed to be impervious to the rain, just as they were impervious to the motorcar’s horn. Finally, managing to drive around them without peril to man nor beast, Roger said to me, “How did you meet Lydia?”
I considered what to answer, then said, “In London. I think she told you as much.” Did it really matter to him? Because if it did, if this wasn’t simply a polite opening to a pleasant conversation, I needed to be on my guard. I
