A Bitter Truth

Chapter Eight

Not a minute later, I saw Constable Bates step out on the narrow terrace above the knot garden and scan it. He may have seen Lydia come through the house this way, but there was no sign of her now. I watched him debate whether to go through the garden and search the stand of trees, but after looking at them carefully from his vantage point, he must have decided that she wouldn’t be so foolish as to wait there for him to surprise her, and in the end he turned back into the house, and I could hear the distant slam of the door.

It was then that I noticed Roger Ellis waiting in the shadow of a tall shrub-a rhododendron, I thought, with those long, leathery evergreen leaves. When he was certain that the constable wasn’t playing a game to draw Lydia out, he himself went down the path between the beds, heading for the trees.

I watched tensely, uncertain how this confrontation would end. I could hear nothing, but I saw Roger Ellis halt abruptly as he pushed aside the boughs guarding the end of the path, and then he disappeared among them.

Braced for anything, including violence, I waited. Finally, Lydia reappeared, and even from my window, I could see that she was crying. Her husband didn’t follow her straightaway, but when he did step out from the sanctuary of the trees, his face was set, and he looked like a man who would like very much to break something.

Whatever had happened, I thought, the breach in the marriage had not been healed.

I was still sitting there when there was a soft tap at my door. On the heels of it, Lydia walked in. She had stopped somewhere long enough to wash her face, but her eyes were red rimmed and swollen.

“Bess?” she said tentatively, and my first thought was, She wants something from me.

“Are you all right, Lydia?” I asked, rising from my chair. “How is your head? Is it aching?”

“No. Yes. The police want to speak to me, and I can’t let them see me like this.” She wiped her eyes angrily, as if commanding them to stop betraying her. “Gran says they believe I had an affair with George. Of all people.”

“Come in. I’ll put a cool cloth across your eyes. It will help. As for the police, I shouldn’t worry. They like to probe, hoping to find a weakness. If you don’t respond, they move on to the next question.”

Half reclining in the other chair, she turned her face up to allow me to set the cloth across her eyes. “How is the dizziness? And the headache?”

Ignoring me, she said, “I’ve just told Roger he can sue for divorce, if he chooses. I shall have to find lodgings in London until I can decide what to do, or he leaves for France. That’s to say, if Mama Ellis will have me back again. I can’t face the questions if I go home to Suffolk. It’s too mortifying. Do you suppose your Mrs. Hennessey will know of someone who will take me in?”

“I’ll most certainly ask Mrs. Hennessey,” I said after a moment. “Lydia. Are you sure this is the best thing to do?”

She snatched the cloth from her face and turned to gaze at me with furious eyes.

Before she could say what was already burning the tip of her tongue, I added without inflection, “How will you live? Has your husband agreed to support you while the divorce goes forward?”

It hadn’t occurred to her. She had always been someone’s daughter and then someone’s wife. She hadn’t had to fend for herself, and to my knowledge she had no skills that would allow her to earn a living.

Pulling the cloth back in place she said, “I have some money of my own. I have no idea whether it’s sufficient or not. You’re right. I’ve never had to think about food or clothing or a roof over my head.” After a moment, she added, “I could train as a nurse.”

I changed the cloth for a fresh one. “It’s very difficult in the beginning. Sometimes it’s very hard to persevere when you’re tired and there is more work to do than you can bear to think about.”

With a sigh she considered her future. The reality of her position was beginning to sink in. She was prone, I thought, to impetuous decisions, without regard to the practicality of the impulse she was following. Such as her haste to leave this morning. And fleeing to London in the first place.

Had killing George also been an impetuous act, born out of her hurt, her anger? No, I wasn’t prepared to believe that. He hadn’t betrayed her-Roger had.

But that brought me full circle to Roger Ellis, whose motive for killing George could have been to silence him before he’d destroyed Roger’s marriage completely. If he had acted, then it had been in vain.

After a while, Lydia sat up, handed me the cloth, and said, “I suppose I ought to get the interview over with. What did they ask you?”

“To describe the weekend. And when I’d last seen Lieutenant Hughes.”

“Did you-were there any questions about the little girl in France?”

“I didn’t feel it was my place to bring her up. And I rather think no one else has.”

“Dr. Tilton will. Wait and see.” Her voice was bitter.

I said nothing. After a moment she asked, “You’ll be going back to France soon, won’t you?”

“Yes, I expect I shall. But my orders haven’t come through yet.” I thought she might be suggesting she could stay in my flat while I was away, and I was about to tell her that there were my flatmates to consider. But I’d misread her.

“I don’t think they’ll let me go across to France. I’m not a nurse, I have no useful skills. But you could search for this child, couldn’t you? I want to find her. I want to see her for myself. I want to be sure she’s safe.”

“There are my duties-I can’t go wherever I like.”

“No, I understand. But there must be lulls in the fighting, when you could find an excuse to search? Please? I have to know .”

“Lieutenant Hughes might well have imagined the resemblance. Have you thought of that?” I suggested to distract her.

“I’ve thought of every conceivable possibility,” she said tiredly. “I’m so sorry to ask this of you, after all you’ve done. I intended to ask George, but he’s dead. And Henry will side with Roger. There’s no one else, is there?”

When I didn’t say anything straightaway, she added, “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If he’s refused to acknowledge her, or search for her, then she’s at risk. For all I know, he hopes she won’t survive. A child that young? Why else would he leave her to the charity of strangers?”

“I can’t believe that he could be so callous. Think about it, if she looks like Juliana-”

“All the more reason to shun her. You don’t understand, he doesn’t want a reminder of her. If it weren’t for his mother, he’d move that portrait out of the drawing room and up to the attics where he doesn’t have to see it.”

“All right,” I answered her reluctantly. “I’ll do what I can. But I won’t make any promises, Lydia. And you mustn’t expect miracles.”

Ignoring that, she said, “And you’ll keep in touch, so that I won’t make myself ill worrying about what’s happening? I trust you, Bess.” She crossed to the door.

“Even if I find her, Lydia, what then? You have no claim on her.”

“If Roger dies,” she said starkly, “this child will be all that’s left of him.”

Thanking me for the cool cloths, she added, “I must go while I still have the courage to face this Constable Bates. He frightens me. I saw him arrive-I thought he was going to follow me into the trees when I fled to the garden. He won’t quit, Bess. He’s like a terrier, digging, digging, digging, until he gets what he’s after.”

“He’s only a man with a very unpleasant job to do. Think of him that way.”

“I’ll try,” she answered doubtfully and was gone.

I stood where I was in the middle of the room, wondering how in God’s name I was to keep my promise. Still, by the time I returned to France, she could very well have changed her mind. It wouldn’t surprise me.

We were preparing to go into dinner when the constable sent Daisy to ask me to return to the library. I found Inspector Rother with my statement in his hands.

With a sense of foreboding, I sat down in the chair he indicated.

“You haven’t been truthful with me,” he began.

“On the contrary,” I replied, refusing to let him intimidate me. “I gave you the truth as I saw it.”

“Hmmm.” He sat there, perusing what I’d written, as if he’d never seen it before. Which was patently not the case, if he’d already found fault with it.