Free A Bitter Truth by Charles Todd

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 didn’t think he would strike me, but there was still that well of anger in him I’d sensed the instant he’d come into the sitting room shortly after I’d arrived yesterday. It had been most noticeable when he’d argued with his mother over George’s presence. I had no idea what might set it off again in an explosion of violence.
    “I’d like to know the details,” he told me, his voice tight.
    It suddenly occurred to me what he was asking. “Did you think she went to hospital with that bruise on her face? I’d have advised it, if I’d seen her just after you struck her. The bones around the eye socket are thin. The truth is, I’ve just come home from France. She was waiting for me on my doorstep. Quite literally.”
    That stopped him. He turned to look at me and nearly ran the motorcar into a ditch.
    “You’re blunt.”
    “Yes, I am. You doubt me, you have from the moment you met me, without even waiting to find out if you were justified. I’m a guest in your house, Mr. Ellis, and I do understand that you’ve recently lost your only brother. It’s a time of mourning, and I’m not a member of the family. I don’t wish to be rude, but I think it would be better for Lydia and your mother if we could at least find a way to be civil to each other.”
    “I’d like to tell you my side of the story,” he said after a moment. “Will you listen?”
    “Of course.” I took a deep breath. “But I must ask you something first. Do you trust your wife, Mr. Ellis? Or is there someone you think she might have gone to, hurt and afraid as she was, and in need of comfort?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped.
    “Yet you stayed here in