Charles Todd: A Bitter Truth

“Not here,” I replied and stepped out into the raw, cold morning air. The rain had become a damp drizzle, but the clouds were still dark enough to promise a downpour sooner rather than later. He took off his coat and settled it around my shoulders.

I huddled gratefully into its warmth, and when we were out of hearing of the woman up in my flat, I said quickly, “There was someone in the doorway last night, when I came home. A woman. She had nowhere to go, and her face was badly bruised. I took her in, and she’s still upstairs, very frightened. I can’t leave London until I’ve sorted out what brought her here last night. ”

“And her husband will come looking for her, mark my words,” he warned. “This is not a very good idea, Bess.”

“Even if he does, he can’t have any idea where to begin. You see, she took a train to London and then just walked aimlessly for hours. It’s a wonder she hasn’t made herself ill. She wasn’t dressed for the weather.” I sighed. “What was I to do, Simon, leave her standing there in the cold wind? And what should I have done this morning, let her walk out into that pelting rain, and consider myself well out of it? Even Mother would agree I didn’t have a choice.”

“Your mother is as tenderhearted as you are. Yes, all right, I take your point. What is this woman’s name? Where does she come from?”

“She hasn’t told me yet,” I admitted. “At the moment she’s trying to convince herself that she made a mistake, leaving. She feels her husband is just as unhappy that this happened.”

“Men who take their own fury out on women always repent what was done. Until the next time.”

“Oddly enough, I’m beginning to think this isn’t the usual case. I think it may be true that Lydia was shocked by the blow.”

“I thought you didn’t know her name.”

“Well, no, it’s her mother’s name. I told her I had to call her something.”

He took a deep breath. “Very well. If she decides to leave in the next few hours, we’ll drive Lydia to the railway station and put her on the next train going in her direction. Will that do?”

“Simon, she has nowhere else to go. I can’t walk away, knowing that, and I can’t rush her into making a decision that could be wrong. What’s more, I have a feeling she left in such a rush that she has little or no money with her. And she doesn’t even have a change of clothing. For all intents and purposes, she’s destitute.”

Simon had to agree with me, however reluctantly. But he reminded me, “It’s also possible her husband keeps her deliberately short of money. All right, shall I take the two of you out to a restaurant? I’d like to form my own opinion of your Lydia.”

“It’s very kind of you to suggest that, but I don’t believe she’ll want to be seen in public. She’s terribly embarrassed by her appearance. The bruising really is quite stark. There’s no way to hide it with a little powder.”

“Fair enough. I won’t choose a restaurant where she might be recognized. Tell her that.”

I wanted to look up at the window, to see if Lydia was watching us. But that would have given away the fact that we were discussing her. “There’s one other thing.” I hesitated. “The police were searching for a deserter last night. Not on this street, but still, it was just east of here. She thought her husband had sent them to find her . This morning she’s afraid that her husband is going to appear before she’s prepared to face him again. But what if that’s just wishful thinking on her part? What if Lydia’s husband doesn’t want her to come back? For instance, there’s someone called Juliana who is involved.”

“My dear girl, you can’t fight her battles for her.”

“No, I understand that. But since I can’t abandon her, it may be necessary to take her to Somerset with me until this is sorted out.”

“See if you can discover her true name, and I’ll find out what I can about her background. Meanwhile, persuade her if you can to join us.”

I could tell that Simon was afraid I might have been led down the primrose path, that Lydia was lying to me or taking advantage of my sympathy for her own ends.

The best way to prove him wrong was to do as he asked.

“I’ll try, I promise you.”

I handed Simon his coat and went back into the house. Mrs. Hennessey came out to greet me, asking about France, and I told her that I was fortunate enough to have Christmas leave.

“How lovely for your mother and father,” she said. “Did I see Sergeant-Major Brandon pass my window just now?”

“Yes, I came down to speak to him. I thought you might be resting.”

She nodded. Simon was quite her favorite, and had been since the summer when he’d all but saved her life. And mine. She asked about my family, and about Somerset, and finally after telling me that she would be happy to bring up anything I needed, she went back into her own flat.

I hurried up the stairs and found Lydia listening at the door. “I overheard. You’re expected in Somerset,” she said. “And here I am, keeping you from leaving. I’ve trespassed long enough on your kindness.”

“As a matter of fact,” I told her, “Simon has come to take me out to dine. Would you like to go? Somewhere you aren’t known, of course.” I added cheerfully, “It will be all right.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly consider it.”

“Well, it’s rather early, at that,” I said, sweeping aside her refusal. “I believe he has some business to see to first, but he’ll come again at one o’clock. There’s time to reconsider.”

I hurried out the door, as if Simon was waiting for my answer. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, and I asked him to collect me at one o’clock, and he reluctantly agreed.

“I may bring a friend along,” I said, for Lydia’s benefit. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he answered, and then with a gleam in his eye that told me he was getting his own back, he added, “Is it Diana? I’ve missed her.”

“I think she’s in Alexandria,” I told him, making a face.

Then I set about convincing Lydia that she would be safe with us.

It was an uphill struggle. She wavered between worrying that she had already been away too long, that Roger might believe she wasn’t coming back, and the certainty that all would be well once she could see him face-to-face and tell him she’d been wrong.

Watching that inner battle, I was well aware that it wasn’t wise to pry. But I was beginning to think that knowing who Juliana was might help me understand why Lydia had fled to London. She couldn’t have known how badly her face would be bruised. She must have needed to put distance between her and something-or someone. And where were the other members of her family-or Roger’s-to let her go without making certain she was properly clothed and had the money to support herself for a few days?

I waited for an opening to ask questions, but it was clear that she wasn’t ready to talk to me or anyone else.

In the end I don’t think it was my persuasion that convinced Lydia to let Simon take us to lunch as much as it was her own need to escape from the torment in her head. All the same, she went down the stairs warily, as if she expected this to be a trap. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d suddenly dashed away as soon as she reached the street.

Instead, just as we arrived at the door and were about to open it, she put her hand to her cheek and said, “No. I’d forgot. I can’t go out like this. I can’t face the stares. On the train it was awful, people would look at me and then look away. I was mortified.”

“Natural curiosity,” I said bracingly. “Here in London they’re more likely to assume you were in an accident of some sort. Or fell.”