An Unmarked Grave by Charles Todd

high walls in the surrounding villages. Smiling, I said, “I do drive well. I was taught by Simon Brandon, who never does anything by halves.”
    “You must have been,” he replied, grinning sheepishly. “Neither of my sisters drives.” There was a pause, and then he asked, “Who is Simon Brandon?”
    “A family friend,” I said, not wishing to go into the whole of my relationship with Simon. He had been my father’s batman when he first joined the regiment, and later rose to the post of Regimental Sergeant-Major. He and my father had always been close, despite the difference in their ages, for Simon was nearer to mine than to his. I had known him all my life. He lived in a cottage near our house in Somerset, and like my father, retired from active duty, he was often employed by the War Office in matters that were never discussed. They disappeared for hours or even days at a time, came home weary, sometimes bloody, and often grim.
    “From the way you said that, he must be more than simply a family friend,” he pointed out.
    I turned to him. “Are you jealous, Captain?”
    I expected him to deny it, but he said slowly, “I think I am.”
    We drove in silence the rest of the way to Nether Thornton, and on the outskirts I said, “I’m here to call on Mrs. Carson. Her husband was killed recently.” I explained the connection and was casting about, trying to think of a kind way to ask him not to come in with me, when he solved the problem himself.
    “Then you don’t want a stranger underfoot. Just ahead—the pub, The Pelican. Drop me there. Just don’t forget to retrieve me when you’re ready to go back to Longleigh House.”
    I smiled, grateful. “I shan’t forget. Dr. Gaines would be furious if I lost my minder. And I should like to borrow the motorcar again.”
    “Anytime, Sister. Just ask me.” He paused. “Can you use the crank? Or would you prefer that I come to fetch you? Either way, I shan’t say a word to the good doctor.”
    “Thank you, but I can manage,” I assured him. The Colonel Sahib had taught me the safe way to use a crank.
    I drew up halfway along the High Street, setting the Captain down in front of the handsome half-timbered pub. He had more difficulty descending from the motorcar than he’d had getting into it. I looked away as he struggled, knowing he wouldn’t take kindly to an offer of help. Finally, standing straight, his cane in his hand, he said, “I’ll be as sober as a judge whenever you come for me. You needn’t worry.” And with that he walked in front of the motorcar and entered the pub. I was beginning to learn how much effort such bravado required on his part. And the cost in pain.
    I drove on through the center of the village and to the house close by the church where the Major had lived after his marriage.
    Leaving the motorcar by the front gate, I walked up to the door. Black silk draped the knocker, and I let it fall gently against the brass plate.
    After a moment the door was opened by Tessie, who had been with the family from the time of their marriage. Tall and rawboned and kind, she said, “Miss Crawford! It’s so good to see you. Mrs. Carson will be delighted that you’ve come. Are you feeling stronger? You look quite yourself, you know.”
    “And I am.” I explained about the clinic as she ushered me inside and down the passage to the sitting room.
    Julia rose from her desk as I came in, exclaiming as Tessie had done and coming to embrace me. “I’m so happy to see you. How are you? Your father told me you’d had quite a severe bout with this terrible illness.”
    “I was one of the lucky ones,” I responded. “It quite ravaged France.”
    “Come, sit down. Tessie will bring us tea. I was glad that Vincent died quickly. We also lost our cook to the influenza, and it was a terrible death. Nineteen people died here in Nether Thornton, and we were told we had only a mild outbreak. But we were warned that it could return because of that. The