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Authors: Charles Todd
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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
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
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