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An Unmarked Grave: A Bess Crawford Mystery
An Unmarked Grave: A Bess Crawford Mystery
An Unmarked Grave: A Bess Crawford Mystery
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An Unmarked Grave: A Bess Crawford Mystery

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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“A wonderful new mystery series that will let us see the horrors of World War I through the eyes of Bess Crawford, battlefield nurse.”
—Margaret Maron

“Readers who can’t get enough of Jacqueline Winspear’s novels, or Hester Latterly, who saw action in the Crimean War in a series of novels by Anne Perry, are bound to be caught up in the adventures of Bess Crawford.”
New York Times Book Review

The critically acclaimed, New York Times bestselling author of the Ian Rutledge mystery series, Charles Todd once again spotlights World War I nurse Bess Crawford in An Unmarked Grave. Gripping, powerful, and evocative, this superb mystery masterwork unfolds during the deadly Spanish Influenza pandemic of 1918, as Bess discovers the body of a murdered British officer among the many dead and sets out to unmask a craven killer.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateJun 5, 2012
ISBN9780062127013
Author

Charles Todd

Charles Todd is the New York Times bestselling author of the Inspector Ian Rutledge mysteries, the Bess Crawford mysteries, and two stand-alone novels. A mother-and-son writing team, Caroline passed away in August 2021 and Charles lives in Florida.

Read more from Charles Todd

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Rating: 3.84 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I really wanted to like this series and this book but now I feel as if I have to simply break up with it. I was very interested in this book in particular because it dealt with the Spanish Flu, something I'm quite interested in. But the story was very lacking. What detective work was Bess doing? The detective work I did see was done by a secondary character, Simon and we never see the story from his eyes.

    very disappointed.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5

    It isis the spring of 1918 in the height of World War I. Bess Crawford is performing her duties as a loyal and extremely skilled British nurse on the French Front. In addition to battling countless war wounds, she and her medical staff find themselves caught in the middle of an the Spanish flu epidemic. It is a serious and deadly strain that suddenly strikes Bess herself.

    Prior to succumbing to the illness, Bess gets herself caught up in some strange events that put her in far more danger than the Spanish flu. The body of Major Carson is found amidst other corpses, the obvious victim of a murderous act. Bess recognizes him as one of her father's regiment. He is discovered by Private Wilson, who, along with Bess, attempt to properly attend to the body so it is not cast into an unmarked grave.

    After Bess is rendered helpless due to the flu, sudden she cannot attend to the caring of Carson’s corpse. When she is finally coherent, she is informed by her family friend and neighbor, Simon Brandon, that Wilson had committed suicide. Bess cannot understand this as the Private Wilson she came to know did not appear to be suicidal at all. Tow unexplained deaths now haunt her.

    Bess is sent back home to England to recover from her illness, but is still haunted by what she believes are two murders. While recovering, she finds employment at a local hospital where she befriends an injured Canadian officer by the name of Barclay. In addition to confiding in her friend Simon, she also shares with Barclay her desire to return to France and look into the mysterious circumstances surrounding the deaths of Carson and Wilson.

    Simon ends up getting wounded himself, shot by a German soldier. He is in bad shape and is being nursed back to health at the same London hospital Bess is temporarily working at. Confident that Simon is in good hands, Bess gets her father, Colonel Crawford, to put through orders returning her to the French Front. When an attempt is made on her life, she quickly realizes that the killer may think she can identify him, and now she is a threat to him as long as she is alive.

    Bringing along Captain Barclay for assistance, Bess begins to dig into Carson and Wilson’s lives to see who they might have as an enemy. More importantly, who might want them dead? Carson was once in her father’s regiment, so it is easy for her to piece together his history. Evidence begins to point to the Morton family, who has several sons enlisted in the military. Will Morton seems to have had reason to be envious of Carson, but Bess wonders if it's enough to commit murder.

    As Bess digs deeper into the Morton family, the body count continues to pile up as those close to her fall victim to the mad killer. Is it really Will Morton, or could the answer lie in Bess’ own past and that of her father?


    Jan
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I have to say that An Unmarked Grave is my favorite Charles Todd book I’ve read so far. I read two of the Inspector Rutledge books and now two Bess Crawford mysteries. Both the Bess Crawford mysteries I’ve read take place during WWI and Bess is a nursing sister.This one takes place when the Spanish flu is ravaging most of the continent. Soldiers on both sides have almost as many casualties from the flu as enemy weapons. Sister Crawford is spending much of her time nursing the sick and dying. After one of her patients die, Private Wilson asks her to accompany him to the shed where the dead are stored, waiting for the burial detail to arrive. She grudgingly complies, since what she really needs is some rest. What Private Wilson shows her at first doesn’t register, but then the import hits her hard, the body he wanted her to see was not a patient suffering from a wound or the flu. It appeared the only physical problem was a broken neck. The uniform had been removed and a quick job of wrapping the body had been made. It spelled murder, to make matters worse, Bess recognized him as one of her father's officers. While waiting for her superior to awaken from her much needed rest Bess succumbed to the flu, and almost to the final embrace.After finally recovering back in England, Bess recalls a strange and vivid dream about finding a friend murdered among the dead. At first that is all she thinks it is, but eventually she decides it was otherwise. Then she finds out that Private Wilson has hanged himself, the same night Bess fell ill. Bess can’t believe it, so she sets out to discover the truth about it all.As I mentioned before, I thought this was an excellent book and well worth a read for those who like English mysteries. Bess is full of spunk and very calm under stress. She seem to break the hearts of many of her patients too. Each book she seems to add at least one more admirer the list.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    2012, Harper Audio, Read by Rosalyn LandorPublisher’s Summary: adapted from Audible.comSpring 1918: the Spanish flu epidemic spreads, killing millions of soldiers and civilians across the globe. Bess discovers, concealed among the dead waiting for burial, the body of an officer who has been murdered. Though she is devoted to all her patients, this soldier's death touches her deeply: the man served in her father's former regiment and was also a family friend. But before she can report the terrible news, Bess falls ill with the flu; and by the time she recovers, the murdered officer has been buried, and the only other person who saw the body has hanged himself. Or did he?Working her father's connections in the military, Bess begins to piece together what little evidence she can find to unmask the elusive killer and see justice served. But she must be as vigilant as she is tenacious. With a determined killer on her heels, each move Bess makes could be her last.My Review:Todd, as always, does an excellent job of illustrating the far-reaching consequences of war – of the trauma and heartbreak visited on families as well as on servicemen. I enjoyed the secondary character, American Captain Barclay – apparently he is way ahead of Bess in terms of her relationship with Simon Brandon (well, I’m hoping!). That said, I found it difficult to keep track of the characters here – not sure whether this is because I was listening, or because I was disinterested in the Morton family, whose story is at the center of the mystery. Realistically, it was probably a bit of both. In any case, this is a series I am enjoying and will continue with (it’s not Maisie Dobbs, and not even Maggie Hope) – but it’s readable, I’ve developed affection for Bess and for Simon Brandon, and I enjoy WW1 literature. Next up is A Question of Honor.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The latest in the Bess Crawford mystery series, which I enjoy rather much. Bess is a nurse in WWI France, in this book dealing with (and falling temporary victim to) the Spanish flu. The period details seem spot on and the mystery was tight – a much better read than the authors’ previous outing in this series. 3½ stars
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I'm of a mixed mind about this Bess Crawford mystery. I enjoy the character and the period details, but I just don't think the writers play fair when it comes to the mystery. The solution comes from way out in left field, and there's no hint of it before (save for mention of a character who will later show up in the story). So the solution to the mystery was a let down if you enjoy playing along in trying to figure out who the killer is.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Nurse Bess Crawford is healing the wounded in France while dodging a German sniper. She travelling back and forth from Britan to France while helping her father find the spy in their midst and helping a wounded Simon and an American Captain who has been shot in the leg. Bess is becoming a comic book character by her saving everyone who comes into contact with her. Example: she can't get a ride and uses a dogsled. Too much.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I received An Unmarked Grave from a free goodreads giveaway. I really enjoyed this book. Nurse Bess Crawford discovers the body of an officer that had been murdered and left in a shed among the bodies of Spanish flu victims and war casualties to be buried. The officer was a member of her father's regiment and a family friend. Before Bess can notify anyone, she collapses from the flu infection. When Bess finally recovers, she learns that the orderly who brought the murdered officer to her attention had committed suicide. The story follows Bess trying to piece together what really happened to the officer, the orderly and others who have crossed path with the murderer. Between the war going on, the flu epidemic and a murderer on the loose, An Umarked Grave is an exciting mystery.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    An Unmarked Grave
    3.5 Stars

    At the height of the Influenza epidemic of 1918, combat nurse Bess Crawford must contend not only with the wounded and the sick, but with the sudden appearance of an unidentified body among those slated for burial. In the aftermath of her own bout with illness, Bess works with her father's connections to collect evidence and unmask a lethal killer who will stop at nothing to fulfill his mission.

    The Bess Crawford mysteries is well-written and entertaining. The historical descriptions of the Spanish 'flu and the wartime conditions both at home and at the front are detailed and interesting. Nevertheless, the book does require a healthy suspension of disbelief to accept that the heroine can go traipsing all over France during WWI.

    The mystery has two possible explanations. While the first option makes more sense based on the details presented throughout the story, the ultimate resolution lacks foundation and foreshadowing, and ends up being convoluted, contrived and lacking in believability.

    In terms of the characters, Bess is a likable heroine, but she can be somewhat haughty and imperious. Moreover, the possibility of a romance with Simon Brandon remains frustratingly underdeveloped even though there are some intriguing insights into his past service in India.

    In sum, this is not the best book in the series mainly due to the weak mystery. That said, the atmospheric setting and potential for character and relationship development will keep me reading.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is the fourth book in the Bess Crawford mystery series but the first of the books that I have read. Often when one picks up in the midst of a run like this the author explains the protagonist's past and relationships so the reader can understand what is going on with the characters. In this the writing team for An Unmarked Grave fell short for me. I felt at times as if I was foundering within the tale trying to sort out who was what to whom. It all eventually mostly made sense but it left me, at times, feeling lost. That being said, I did enjoy the book and would pick up another Bess Crawford mystery - probably the first few to get caught up on who is who and what is what.In this tale Bess, a nursing sister is in France at the front working endless hours with the wounded. Things are getting decidedly worse as the Spanish influenza epidemic is afflicting the wounded and the doctors and nurses without discretion. Just as Bess learns of the murder of a family friend she comes down with the flu and is thought to be at death's door. She is whisked away home to England though the influence of her father, Colonel Crawford.Bess slowly recovers but remembers the dead man. When she starts asking questions - did it happen or was it a dream she learns that the private who brought him to her attention is also dead. He committed suicide; or did he?The books moves along at a slow, steady pace which is rather odd for a suspense book. Bess goes about investigating who might be killing people willy-nilly and why. People move about through the auspices of Colonel Crawford and his mysterious role in the government and Bess seems acquainted with just about everyone in both countries. Despite these contrivances I did find the book enjoyable. It was an easy read and Bess is a likable character. I can't figure out, though if she's a nun or the nurses are just called Sister. She seems to have men quite interested in her and she shows some interest in one man so that has confused me....
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This series is nothing like the quality of the Rutledge series
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    First Line: I stopped just outside the ward and leaned my head against the cool wood of the doorframe.It's the spring of 1918. Not only are Bess Crawford and all the other nurses and doctors having to contend with an unending stream of wounded men from the front lines in France, they have to battle another killer: the Spanish Influenza.A trusted orderly takes Bess to the area in which the dead are kept before they taken out for burial, and he shows her that there is one more dead soldier than there should be. After checking the records and looking at the man's body, it becomes clear to Bess that this man (a friend of the family) has been murdered, but before she can tell the commanding officer of her suspicions, she falls victim to the flu and is taken to England to recuperate.When she is strong enough to return to duty, she keeps her promise to the orderly and informs her father, the "Colonel Sahib," of what happened, but there's not much that can be done. The soldier's body has been buried, and the only other person who saw the body-- the orderly-- has hanged himself.Bess knows that something's just not right, that someone believed "one unmarked grave more or less wouldn't be noticed," so she begins to piece together what little information and evidence she can. But when another nurse dies, and someone very nearly succeeds in killing Bess herself, she knows that she somehow has to stay safe from this very determined killer so justice can be done.This series continues to get stronger-- especially when the books (like this one) have so many scenes in the war zone in France. Battle not only shows Bess at work, it heightens the feeling of danger. The writing duo of Caroline and Charles Todd ratchet up the danger and suspense even further with the killer who seems to see all, know all, and be everywhere at once. Bess isn't safe, and neither is anyone who tries to help her.I came nowhere close to deducing the killer's identity, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief when the capture was signed, sealed and delivered. The series is also hinting rather strongly at possible romance in Bess's future. Possible, that is, if Bess ever realizes what's right under her nose!If you have yet to read any of these Bess Crawford mysteries, give this one a try. It stands very well on its own, but don't be surprised if you want to go back and read the others once you've finished An Unmarked Grave. I also highly recommend this series for any readers who are fans of Jacqueline Winspear's Maisie Dobbs series or Suzanne Arruda's Jade del Cameron books.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Bess is challenged by the discovery of a murdered soldier who's corpse is hidden among other war dead being readied for burial in France. Her pursuit of the killer becomes personal as she is threatened and assaulted when other murders occur. As always with the Todds, excellent insights into the effects that this horrific war and times had upon Great Britain, it's people and society.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Intrepid Bess Crawford is just behind the trenches in wartorn France, tending to the wounded, when the Spanish Influenza strikes in the spring of 1918. In the mdist of the chaos, an orderly notices something wrong with one of the many bodies. He didn't die of war wounds or the flu. His neck was broken.The orderly informs Bess as someone he trusts. She promises to alert the proper people. She promises not only because she trusts the kindly older man who is the orderly and sees for herself that the dead man was murdered, but also because the victim was a family friend who served in her father's regiment.But before she can get anywhere, the flu strikes her as well. In the near-fairytale atmosphere in which Bess Crawford exists, she is spirited out of France and convalesces back home as strings are pulled. For Bess Crawford has connections, most importantly her father, the Colonel Sahib.This imposing figure and dearest family friend Simon are full-fledged confidants as she pieces together bits of information and visits various figures connected to the victim. These figures are representative of various strata in Britain's WWI class system, and as such provide a fascinating picture of people carrying on while the Great War goes on and on and on. Although Bess initially isn't quite believed, it's soon evident that the orderly, who died soon after she was taken ill, showed her something important.Before long, more people connected with the investigation die. Bess knows the killer will target her, but her sense of duty demands that she continue. And if that means she has to take along with her a brash American officer recovering from his war wounds, that's what she will do. Even if he and Simon don't exactly take to each other. The killer gets closer and closer to Bess and her inner circle before the end, which is a classic case of the sleuth figuring it all out in the nick of time.The world for Bess that the Todds have created is a genuine homage to the World War I era. The violence is off-screen, the characters do not directly express their feelings for each other (really, how thick are Bess and Simon to not have figured that out?) and duty reigns supreme, the plot unfolds in true tricky Agatha Christie style. The series also has other aspects of the historical era it depicts. There is no irony or nod to modern sensibility in Bess calling her father the Colonel Sahib. Women and lower class folk are expected to know their place. In one of the poignant stories told during the unveiling of the plot, a widower father who has lost several sons to the war doesn't understand why the widow of one of them won't come work the farm. Her son would grow up in fresh air but the workload would obviously kill her.Downton Abbey fans would be well served by reading the Bess Crawford novels while waiting for a new season. Fans of Inspector Rutledge, the first series character brought to life by the Todds, will find a lighter version of the tone in that post-war series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    While nursing in France during World War I, Bess Crawford learns of an extra body in the place where those killed in battle have been gathered. Although the body bears no identification, Bess recognizes him as an officer from her father's former regiment. He appears to have been murdered by someone who may still be in the area. Before she can alert the matron, she falls ill with influenza. Her memory is vague when she recovers. How much is real and how much did she dream in her illness? When more murder victims turn up, Bess realizes that her own life is in danger. The killer isn't leaving any witnesses alive, and Bess may be the only person left who can identify him.The premise for the murder is similar to Ellis Peters' One Corpse Too Many. However, it's a plot that works well in a war situation. Bess had a good reason for trying to find the killer since her own life was in danger. Most of the way through the book I felt like it was shaping up to be the best book in the series, but the ending was a little disappointing. It relies too much on coincidence.I'm curious about where Bess's relationship with Sergeant Major Simon Brandon might be going. It's a bit strange. Bess treats him like part of the family, and he seems like an older brother, or even a third parent at times. This book introduces a new potential suitor for Bess who seems more age appropriate. He is clearly jealous of Simon and thinks of him as a rival for Bess's affection. At the rate things are going in this series, we might not find out where Bess's feelings lie until somewhere around book 10!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Bess Crawford is busy fighting the Spanish flu and the masses of wounded soldiers that constantly arrive in the French battlefield. An orderly shows Bess a dead soldier who appears to have been strangled. Before Bess can bring the matter to the attention of the authorities, she falls ill with the flu. Many events delay or cloud the murder. The orderly is found hanging and ruled as a suicide. Bess must enlist the assistance of her father. The story takes many twists and turns in France and England. The story is intriguing with the threats of spies and danger. I felt the writing in this novel is better than prior Bess Crawford novels.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I read the first Bess Crawford mystery and liked it, for the most part. I looked at the next books in the series and it seemed continuity wasn't a big deal, so I went ahead and read #4 since I already had it. Despite jumping over two books, I had no difficulty in following the story. It follows the chronology of World War I but nothing major had shifted with Bess or her immediate circle; it was really quite self-contained. As a mystery, the pace flows well and it's a fast read. I read 150 pages in one sitting.One reason I'm reading the books is that I am studying up more on World War I-era medicine. In this regard, I'm still frustrated with the series. This book did show some action at the front, with procedures and the terror of a gas attack, but it didn't dwell much on the medical aspect.Bess as a character still feels rather empty to me. It's definitely not a character-driven series. I have no idea what she wants. It also seems like her father is too much of a power figure. If anything goes wrong, Colonel Sahib comes to the rescue. He even has her pulled from the front when she comes down with the flu. It makes things awfully convenient far too many times over even as people are out to kill Bess. Through her father's connections she knows almost everyone and can do almost anything.I already have the second book in the series so I'll go ahead and read that, but overall I find that there are too many bothersome elements here for me to continue beyond that.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Several things have changed since the third tome, A Bitter Truth, of the series. The language is less winsome, flowing, less formidable. I've gone on record saying that I embrace low brow potboilers and dime novels. It's still sad to witness this book and consequently its authors finding it necessary to up the stakes, to add exponential action and to provide parody-like happenstances. Charles Todd was a name I've come to associate with quality and bravery. One can only repel the lure of ease for only so long. The number of times people survive gun wounds in this story seems greater than the great unwashed's fatal brush with the Spanish Flu. The myriad times of such situations bordered on the farcical. I also didn't like the insinuations that great men by default survived war and that grades in the military was solely based on meritocracy. Charisma cannot substitute for luck and connections in the real world. I wondered if the authors wanted its audience to believe what should be called a deception. The authors did well to shroud the chilling multi murderer in darkness. Ralph Mitchell was nothing short of a terminator. The mysterious man brought about a smoother climax than any of the previous books. Danger had dogged the heels of the heroine so often that the ending didn't seem forced. While I couldn't keep much concentration in the early chapters, I could keep a hawk like focus on the ever increasing cast of new names that kept adding. I'm a bit hazy about why the killer had embarked on a rampage and the motive escapes me for now. I'm glad I didn't waste my time reading this book - you know what I mean. It was a very good book, and I'm glad I'll remember parts of it forever.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    France, Spring, 1918I stopped just outside the ward and leaned my head against the cool wood of the doorframe. I couldn't remember when last I'd slept, or, for that matter, eaten anything more than a few biscuits now and again with a hasty cup of tea.The Spanish Influenza had already cut down three of our nursing sisters, and two doctors were not expected to live through the night. The rest of us were struggling to keep men alive in the crowded wards and losing the battle hourly. Depressing to watch the bodies being carried out, one more soldier lost to an enemy we couldn't even see.It was an insidious killer, this influenza. I'd watched men in the best of healthy in the afternoon gasping for breath by the next morning, tossing with fever, lying too ill to speak, then fighting to draw a next breath. I'd watched nurses and orderlies work with patients for days on end without showing a single sign of illness, only to collapse unexpectedly and join the ranks of the dying. The young were particularly vulnerable. On the other hand, Private Wilson, close to forty, seemed to be spared, even though he handled the dead, gently wrapping them in their soiled sheets and carrying them out to await interment. The shed just beyond the wards was filled with bodies, sometimes tacked like lumber. The burial details couldn't keep up. And those men too were dying. (pg 1-2).In the latest novel from Charles Todd, An Unmarked Grave takes readers back to the chilling period of time as WW1 was just beginning while the Spanish Influenza was taking lives faster than the war wounded. Some wondered if there would be anyone left to fight the war. As Private Wilson is taking count of the bodies in the shed, separating the war dead from those that the illness had claimed, he noticed one extra body.Taking care to avoid any extra attention he notifies, Nurse Bess Crawford to follow him to the shed. When he shows her the extra body, she realizes who it is. Major Vincent Carlson, and the wounds on his body are neither from the war or from the illness. He has been murdered.When she attempts to contact Matron, the head nurse in charge of the facility, Bess herself finds she has succumbed to the Spanish Influenza as well and before she is able to tell anyone, she faints into a fever that may take her very life. Nurse Bess Crawford does recover but she begins to wonder if the body she discovered was a dream or did it really happen. All she knows is she needs to get better as soon as she can and begin to uncover what could be a murder, but how will she find the body of the Major in an unmarked grave?I received An Unmarked Grave by Charles Todd compliments of TLC Book Tours and William Morrow, a division of Harper Collins Publishers for my honest review. After reading previous novels by Charles Todd a year ago, I feel in love with his unique ability to draw the reader into his book immediately. This is my third book from him and my second in the Bess Crawford mystery series. I love having a woman character like Bess who represents a vulnerability in her character while matching wits much like Sherlock Holmes. Add to that element a bit of history and you have the blending of a perfect suspense mystery. So it's easy to see why I would rate this one a 5 out of 5 stars. I can't wait to read more from him in the future and once again, this novel has found a forever home in my personal library.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Although I've always been fascinated by World War I, the closest relatives I had who served in it (two great-uncles by marriage)both were prevented by illness from ever going to France. One survived his bout with TB and became a much-loved family member; the other died of influenza at Camp Devens, leaving my great-aunt a widow after a brief marriage. Since she died when I was 4, all I have of that early relationship is Uncle Charles's photo in his Army uniform.I've enjoyed all Charles Todd's World War I mysteries, both the Ian Rutledge and Bess Crawford series, but I think I especially liked this one (if "like" is the word for such harrowing reading) because of its setting in the first months of the influenza pandemic. Nurse Bess Crawford is herself struck down with flu just after she's presented with a mystery, and after her recovery, she tries to follow the cold trail of a ruthless killer. Moving back and forth across the Channel, and with the help of family friend Simon Brandon and a new possible beau who's an American serving in the Canadian forces, she has many adventures before the end.I actually found the ending a bit deus ex machina for my taste, but I think this is one of those series I read for character and setting more than for plot, so I didn't mind too much. Recommended, if this applies to you as well.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Bess Crawford is again thrust into mystery and intrigue when an orderly shows her an extra, unauthorized body in with the dead, a man she recognizes. Soon potential witnesses are being murdered, and Bess finds herself in grave danger as she tries to sort out the tangle.Well written and unsettling.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Bess Crawford, daughter of an English Colonel, raised in India, now serving as a nurse in World War I, finds herself facing a dead body in a spot where it's not supposed to be, and on its way to be buried with no identification. Dead bodies usually work well to start off a mystery, but just when she sees this body, she is stricken with a severe case of Spanish flu, becomes delirious and is shipped home to England. When she awakens, she doesn't know if the body (she knows who the soldier was) was a dream, or if she really did see him dead. How did he end up where she saw him? Was he murdered, or did he really die from a war wound? Thus begins the fourth book in this enlightening and engaging mystery series. In each of them, Bess manages to find herself in the midst of mystery. An Unmarked Grave is perhaps the most straightforward of the mysteries in the series, but it is by no means simplistic. The author(s) continue to expand Bess's personality, enhance her relationship with Simon Brandon (will this develop into a romance in later books?), devise interesting and many layered plots, and provide us with views into the awfulness of War. Their descriptions of battlefield casualty stations give us a realistic imagery of the horror of the carnage, while at the same time giving us a tribute to the courage of all those working under these unimaginable circumstances. In addition, their depiction of the ravages of the Spanish Flu adding to the desolation caused by the war itself, serves to paint a realistic and devastating picture of the beginning of the twentieth century.Sr. Crawford's snooping does at times require the reader to accept a character who is a bit more nosy than one might believe, who has a knack for finding trouble, and an unbelievable amount of luck in being able to call on her father and his aide-de-camp Simon to bail her out, but these escapades make for a well-written story that keeps us turning pages, and leaves us wanting more. And that's my criteria for a ripping good read!I've read all of these (there are now four in the series) and I'm not sure I'd recommend starting here if you haven't read any of the previous ones. That said, the author has done a credible job of giving enough back-fill that it would probably work on its own.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5

    From his webpage: "World War I nurse and amateur sleuth Bess Crawford matches wits with a devious killer in this exciting and suspenseful adventure from New York Times bestselling author Charles Todd
    In the spring of 1918, the Spanish flu epidemic spreads, killing millions of soldiers and civilians across the globe. Overwhelmed by the constant flow of wounded soldiers coming from the French front, battlefield nurse Bess Crawford must now contend with hundreds of influenza patients as well.

    However, war and disease are not the only killers to strike. Bess discovers, concealed among the dead waiting for burial, the body of an officer who has been murdered. Though she is devoted to all her patients, this soldier’s death touches her deeply. Not only did the man serve in her father’s former regiment, he was also a family friend.

    Before she can report the terrible news, Bess falls ill, the latest victim of the flu. By the time she recovers, the murdered officer has been buried, and the only other person who saw the body has hanged himself. Or did he?

    Working her father’s connections in the military, Bess begins to piece together what little evidence she can find to unmask the elusive killer and see justice served. But she must be as vigilant as she is tenacious. With a determined killer on her heels, each move Bess makes could be her last."

    So this seems to be a well written male author's spin-off of Maisie Dobbs...... Like I said well written, but oh does it go on & on & on and at points becomes dreary, when "AHA!" there is more action.......

    The book was interesting to a point, but then it numbed my mind...... Also there was the fact that this woman, Maisie similarity aside, wasn't as likeable nor as personable as Maisie..... This is a woman born to privilege, with that "attitude", with that bearing, with that "connection" to "my father will get me out of trouble"........

    In fact there was nothing endearing about any of the characters that made me care a whit about any of them.... They were flat, upper crust, stodgy types and it left me wanting to go back to Maisie Dobbs......

    Despite my review, I do believe that many people will enjoy this series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Enjoy the setting and empathetic characters. But nurse Bess Crawford serving on the western front in WWI has adventures that are a little too similar from one book to the next. Would like to see a little more development od the characters and storylines.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I recently had a patron ask if I knew of a good historical mystery series for her. She was older, and said she liked stories set in the war years such as Charles Todd's Bess Crawford books. (which she highly recommended) Well, I did indeed have a series for her, but although I was familiar with Charles Todd's Inspector Rutledge series, I had never read one of the Bess Crawford books. Her recommendation resulted in me picking up the latest installment of this series - An Unmarked Grave. Bess Crawford is a World War I nurse. 1918 finds her at the front lines in France, with war casualties and the Spanish influenza contributing equally to the dead waiting to be buried. But when an orderly points out a body to Bess that isn't wrapped right, she is shocked to find she recognizes the man from her father's regiment. It wasn't the flu or war that killed him - she suspects foul play. But exhausted and physically worn down, she falls prey to the flu herself before she can report what she thinks might be murder. Back in England she does advise her father of her suspicions. But the body is long buried. Did she imagine what she saw? Or is there a murderer in the ranks? Bess is determined to find the answer and wants to return to France. Todd's writing brought this time period to life. The dialogue, social mores and expectations of the time were wonderfully depicted, creating a strong sense of atmosphere. Bess is such a great character - kind, dutiful, compassionate, strong, determined and intelligent. All of the characters were equally well drawn and just as engaging. I liked the idea of a woman being the sleuth in this time period, when men were the traditional 'leaders'. Bess is more than up to the task. The plotting is good, slowly unravelling over time. This is a gentler mystery, meant to be savoured and enjoyed. I choose to listen to A Unmarked Grave. The reader was Audie award winner Rosalyn Landor. She has a wonderfully rich, crisp British accent that perfectly suited the mental image I had of Bess. She portrayed all of the characters just as well. Most of the other characters were male and Landor came up with believable voices for them. Bess's father had a nice, gruff, regimental tone. The 'yank' soldier's voice was spot on as well. Her voice added much to the overall feel of the book, conveying emotion and setting easily. I really enjoyed this book and will definitely be picking up another in this series. Fans of Jacqueline Winspear's Maisie Dobbs character would enjoy this series. (This was my recommendation to my patron)
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A Bess Crawford entry. More action than previous books. But a plot line that went lame at the end. Still this writing duo is a winner.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A slightly more messy novel, narrated by the same woman. And either I'm not able to concentrate on something more than easy, or this novel was a mess..... I'm just not sure.
    Too many people, too much running around, and I kept finding myself not paying attention for a while. It got confusing, fast. I may take a break from this series for a while.
    3 stars.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The best of Bess so far. Although she picks up the usual odd assortment of helpers, this is largely her story. It bogs down a little in the first half but the story does move along quite well. One does have to wonder when she does any nursing as she does move about France and England with a trip to Wales thrown in for good measure.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is the fourth book in the Bess Crawford mystery series but the first of the books that I have read. Often when one picks up in the midst of a run like this the author explains the protagonist's past and relationships so the reader can understand what is going on with the characters. In this the writing team for An Unmarked Grave fell short for me. I felt at times as if I was foundering within the tale trying to sort out who was what to whom. It all eventually mostly made sense but it left me, at times, feeling lost. That being said, I did enjoy the book and would pick up another Bess Crawford mystery - probably the first few to get caught up on who is who and what is what.In this tale Bess, a nursing sister is in France at the front working endless hours with the wounded. Things are getting decidedly worse as the Spanish influenza epidemic is afflicting the wounded and the doctors and nurses without discretion. Just as Bess learns of the murder of a family friend she comes down with the flu and is thought to be at death's door. She is whisked away home to England though the influence of her father, Colonel Crawford.Bess slowly recovers but remembers the dead man. When she starts asking questions - did it happen or was it a dream she learns that the private who brought him to her attention is also dead. He committed suicide; or did he?The books moves along at a slow, steady pace which is rather odd for a suspense book. Bess goes about investigating who might be killing people willy-nilly and why. People move about through the auspices of Colonel Crawford and his mysterious role in the government and Bess seems acquainted with just about everyone in both countries. Despite these contrivances I did find the book enjoyable. It was an easy read and Bess is a likable character. I can't figure out, though if she's a nun or the nurses are just called Sister. She seems to have men quite interested in her and she shows some interest in one man so that has confused me....
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    An Unmarked Grave by Charles Todd is the 4th book in the Bess Crawford mystery series. Last year I read and enjoyed the previous book in the series, A Bitter Truth, and I am pleased to say that this book did not disappoint. I enjoyed it just as much.The book begins with Bess Crawford in France, struggling to help soldiers stricken by the Spanish flu in spring 1918. A soldier approaches Bess because he believes he has found a murdered man's body mixed in among the influenza victims, and he wants to have another witness to the crime. Unfortunately Bess falls ill with the flu herself before she can do anything to help, or even report the crime. When Bess recovers she remembers what happened and she tries to solve the mystery and catch the murderer, assisted by her father and her friend Simon, and other friends she meets along the way. As usual she has a lot of adventures, which give the book a bit of excitement and faster pace. I did find it a little unrealistic that one battlefield nurse would have so many friends in high places and be involved in this much excitement. But I suspended disbelief and went along with the plot, and very much enjoyed myself. I love all the characters in this series and look forward to reading more adventures of Bess Crawford.Highly recommended for fans of the series. If this is your first Bess Crawford novel, you could start here if you wish. There is enough background information given for those who haven't read the earlier books.(I received this book through Amazon's Vine Program.)

Book preview

An Unmarked Grave - Charles Todd

CHAPTER ONE

France, Spring, 1918

I STOPPED JUST outside the ward and leaned my head against the cool wood of the doorframe. I couldn’t remember when last I’d slept, or, for that matter, eaten anything more than a few biscuits now and again with a hasty cup of tea.

The Spanish Influenza had already cut down three of our nursing sisters, and two doctors were not expected to live through the night. The rest of us were struggling to keep men alive in the crowded wards and losing the battle hourly. Depressing to watch the bodies being carried out, one more soldier lost to an enemy we couldn’t even see.

It was an insidious killer, this influenza. I’d watched men in the best of health in the afternoon gasping for breath by the next morning, tossing with fever, lying too ill to speak, then fighting to draw a next breath. I’d watched nurses and orderlies work with patients for days on end without showing a single sign of illness, only to collapse unexpectedly and join the ranks of the dying. The young were particularly vulnerable. On the other hand, Private Wilson, close to forty, seemed to be spared, even though he handled the dead, gently wrapping them in their soiled sheets and carrying them out to await interment. The shed just beyond the wards was filled with bodies, sometimes stacked like lumber. The burial details couldn’t keep up. And those men too were dying.

The influenza epidemic was already being spoken of as a twentieth-century plague, and no one was safe. I feared for my parents—there had been no word from Somerset for over a fortnight. Even Simon Brandon hadn’t written, and that was more worrying. Was he too ill? Or trying to find a way to tell me that the Colonel Sahib and my mother had died? Every post seemed to bring sad news to the wounded or the staff, and word was that people in Britain as well as France were dropping in the streets or dying before they could reach hospital, entire families wiped out. Matron had told me that the posts were delayed because so many of the censors had fallen ill and there was no one to take their place. Cold comfort, but all I had. And as time went on, I wasn’t really sure that I wanted to hear.

Sister Burrows came out the door, and I moved aside. She slipped off her mask as I had done and took a deep breath of the evening air.

Dear God, she said, and it was half a prayer. I don’t know how much more I can face. There’s nothing we can do for them. Nothing. And there are the wounded to nurse as well. It’s—it’s rather overwhelming.

She was pale with exhaustion, dark circles beneath her eyes. A mirror of my face, I thought. If I had had the time to look at my own reflection.

I ache with weariness, she went on after a moment. How are you bearing up?

As well as anyone else, I answered. It will have to end soon. The influenza. There will be no one else to infect.

Two officers leaning on canes limped past, nodding to us, and another man, turning his back to us, disappeared into the canteen. His shoulder was swathed in bandages, and I couldn’t help but notice how stained and ragged they were. I knew I ought to hurry after him and ask to have a look at the wound, but I didn’t have the energy. Let him drink his tea undisturbed, then report to Matron.

Today we received more influenza patients than battlefield wounded, I commented as the heavy odor of French tobacco followed in the wake of an orderly carrying a mop and pail.

I hope the Germans are suffering as badly as we are. If not, in a few weeks they’ll be able to walk unimpeded to Paris.

I smiled. If they try, they’ll be struck down as well. All the lines are reporting influenza cases. On a more somber note I said, Seeing that orderly reminds me. When he has time, Private Wilson has been carrying linens to the laundry and bringing back fresh supplies. And still we’re running short.

I’ll pass the word, she said, when he comes back this way. She cocked her head to one side. I can hear the guns again. You’d think the Germans would have the decency to stop fighting until this influenza is over.

There was an hour of blessed silence earlier. I even heard a lark somewhere. I pulled my mask back into place. I must look in on the Major. His fever is soaring.

Go on. I’ll bring cool water to you to bathe his face.

I thanked her and went inside. We did what we could to help each other as well as our patients. Even Matron had taken her turn bringing round the tray of tea.

I wasn’t sure whether it was in the middle of the night or early morning when Lieutenant Benson died. I had sat by his bed for an hour or more, knowing the end was near but refusing to give up. My head ached from leaning forward to hold his hand at the last as he’d asked me to do, and I was rather dizzy from missing my dinner, but there had been no time to spare for it.

Lieutenant Benson’s death had not been a tranquil one—influenza never lets its victims slip easily away—and as I closed his eyes, I felt a crushing sadness.

Dr. Timmons came then and confirmed that the patient was dead. I went to ask the orderlies to bring the stretcher to our ward.

Private Wilson was on duty, as he so often seemed to be, and as he followed me back to the Lieutenant’s bedside with his stretcher bearers in tow, he leaned forward and said in a low voice, Sister, will you come to the shed with us?

I couldn’t bear the thought. The next time, perhaps, I offered.

Please, Sister Crawford, he said, urgency in his voice as he quickly looked over his shoulder. I reluctantly nodded. It wasn’t like Private Wilson to be so insistent or so secretive.

The Lieutenant was carefully placed on the stretcher, covered by a sheet, and our wretched little party made its way between the rows of cots to the ward door.

Private Wilson passed his torch to me, and in the chilly darkness I led the way across to the shed, a distance of about forty feet. Opening the doors for the others to pass inside, I shone the torch ahead of them, trying not to think about the men who lay here, men I had watched die. I waited, uncertain why I was supposed to be in this place but still trusting Private Wilson’s judgment, while the Lieutenant was added to the rows of the dead.

When it was done, Private Wilson cast a glance in my direction, then turned to his stretcher bearers. They were as hollow-eyed with fatigue as the rest of us. Take yourselves off for a cigarette, lads. The Sister wishes to say a few words over the dead. This one was special, like.

I nearly denied it but caught myself in time. Simon Brandon would have called Private Wilson a steady man. Whatever he was about, he wanted privacy.

Grateful for the opportunity, his men touched their caps to me and disappeared in the direction of the canteen. When they were out of hearing, Private Wilson said in a low voice, Sister, what I’m about to ask you to do won’t be pleasant. But I think you’ll agree afterward that it’s necessary.

Mystified, I said, Very well.

He guided me deeper inside the shed. The torch beam picked out the sheet-shrouded remains on either side of me. This way, he said and took me to the back row in the far left corner. In spite of the disinfectant, the shed smelled of death, and I felt like turning on my heel and hurrying out again as quickly as I could. But I followed him as he added, The burial detail will be here in an hour. And he’ll be gone.

Who would be gone?

He steadied the beam of the torch and then knelt. Over his shoulder I could see a man’s arm just visible in an opening in the sheet wrapping him. I was surprised. And then I realized why the sheet was unwinding—it hadn’t been done up properly in the first place. Reaching beneath the corpse above, Private Wilson managed to uncover the body so that I could just pick out a shoulder, throat, and, finally, the side of a face.

He’s not an influenza victim, Private Wilson said. Look at him.

He reached out to pull the sheet wider for a better view, shifting the body above this one and nearly starting an avalanche of the dead. I caught my breath until the swaying stopped.

He was right.

This one corpse among so many showed none of the darkening of the skin of the Spanish Influenza victim. Instead his head lolled as Private Wilson worked with him, and I realized that his neck must have been broken.

That was odd. For one thing, we seldom saw such a wound, and for another, he would have died instantly. There would have been no reason for the forward aid station to send him on to us.

I don’t understand— I began doubtfully, then stopped as Private Wilson’s torch settled on the face of the corpse.

I knew this man!

Even in the shielded light of the torch, I was sure.

And I was just as sure that he’d never been a patient here. I would have recognized him straightaway. Or if he’d been in another ward, one of the other sisters would have said something to me. They knew I was always on the lookout for anyone who served in my father’s old regiment. Then why was he lying among our dead?

I stood there, my tired mind trying to absorb this shock. Finally it occurred to me that he’d indeed been wounded and that in the ambulance something had happened—a freak accident when the driver hit a deep hole, a fall from the upper berth onto the steel floor. But if that was true, where were the bruises to support it?

I leaned forward to search for an identification tag. To my surprise, there was none. And he wasn’t in uniform. It was true, we sometimes got patients so badly wounded we had no idea who they were or what regiment they’d served with. A tunic already torn in the trenches, cut off in the forward aid station for a better look at the site, or removed entirely for emergency surgery, and any hope of identifying him could be lost well before a man arrived in our ward. But as a rule, the ambulance driver could tell us his unit, or there were other wounded from his sector who could give us a name and rank until the patient was able to speak for himself.

Please, I need a little more light, I whispered, trying to see where he’d been wounded.

We need to mind the time, Sister. The burial detail will be here soon. And we don’t want to attract anyone else’s attention. Still, he brought the light nearer. I couldn’t find any other marks on the man’s body, except for a few scars, some of them half healed, others from before the war. I looked at him again. Death had changed his features, of course, but not so much that I could have doubted the evidence of my own eyes. I hadn’t been wrong. And there was only one conclusion I could draw.

I stepped back, thoroughly shaken.

Dear God. It was all I could manage to say.

What should I do? My first inclination was to call someone and have the Major’s body taken out of the shed to somewhere the circumstances of his death could be looked into.

It was then I realized that he hadn’t been dead for very long. Rigor hadn’t set in yet. Which meant that whoever had killed him was very likely still somewhere in the vicinity. But who could have done this? Why should Major Carson have been murdered?

There. I had put it into words. Murder.

Private Wilson had already come to that conclusion. He’d brought me here to be his witness.

My mind refused to function. Where to start? Matron, of course. Begin with Matron, I told myself.

Pulling the sheet back over the body and then the face, I said, How did you discover him?

By accident, Private Wilson answered. I was doing a count of the bodies, as I always do, for the burial detail’s records, and I found there were fifty-seven, not fifty-six. I started again, and actually walked by each of the rows, to be sure. That’s when I saw the arm. He wasn’t put here by my men, Sister. I see to it that those who died of their wounds are on the far side of the shed, the influenza patients over here. It’s been my way of doing things since this epidemic began in earnest.

How did he come to be here in the first place? This far behind the lines?

That’s a very good question. My guess is, it’s likely whoever killed him thought to hide him here. But he didn’t know how it was done, did he? How to wind the sheet properly, or which side to put him on, or that my count would be off. He hesitated. Do you know him, Sister? Can you put a name to him?

I— It’s been quite a few years. But he was a Lieutenant in my father’s old regiment. I’d been told that he’d been promoted again and was now a Major. His name is Vincent Carson.

I didn’t wish to speak to anyone else about this business until I’d talked to someone I could trust. I didn’t wish to find myself accused of putting him here. After all, I’m the one in charge of the dead, you might say.

No, of course, I understand. Matron is finally sleeping. I’m to wake her in an hour’s time. I’ll tell her then. She’ll know what’s best to do. Can you put off the burial detail? Just for a bit? Once he’s taken away, there’s no hope of proving he was here, how he died, or even who he is. He’ll be in an unmarked grave.

I’ll do my best. Perhaps we shouldn’t wait—perhaps we should go to one of the doctors.

I shook my head. They’ve got their hands full with the living. More wounded just arrived. No, Matron is the best choice. I’ve seen her cope in every sort of emergency you can imagine. But could she cope with murder? It was my turn to hesitate. You do understand, don’t you? It hasn’t been very long since Major Carson was killed. Whoever put him here could be one of us—an orderly, someone from the canteen, you, me, one of the ambulance drivers.

Not a pleasant thought, is it? Private Wilson said.

He helped me finish wrapping the Major as best we could, so that he appeared to look more or less like his neighbors. I’d been dizzy before, but the disinfectant in here seemed to be aggravating it. I was finding it hard to concentrate, was eager to leave the shed and step out into the fresh air to clear my head. But duty was duty.

I stood there for a moment longer, remembering Lieutenant Carson. He’d been young and eager, his shock of unruly red hair setting him apart, and his grin had been contagious. Now his hair was short-cropped and showing signs of graying, and it was a man’s face I’d looked into, thinner, deeply etched by his years in the trenches, dark circles beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and too many horrors witnessed. The face of war, my father had called it.

I felt a pang for my father when the news reached him. He’d thought highly of Lieutenant Carson, and he’d told me once that he wouldn’t be surprised to see Lieutenant Carson in command of the regiment one day. Even then his knowledge of military strategy and tactics had been outstanding, and I had believed the Colonel Sahib’s prediction.

We’d best be going, Sister, Private Wilson said, urging me toward the shed doors. We don’t want to arouse curiosity, lingering here, like.

He was right. I turned and in silence walked with him to the door. Thank you for confiding in me, Private Wilson. I shivered in the chilly air of the night as I crossed the bruised grass. I’ll bring Matron as soon as possible. With any luck the burial detail will be late anyway, but hold them off as long as you can. Tell them—tell them that Matron wishes to speak to them.

Rather a dirty business, murder, he said grimly. I couldn’t believe the evidence of my own eyes when I found him. Then, turning to me, he asked, Are you all right, Sister?

I think I forgot to eat. I’ll just go across to the canteen and have some tea.

Thank you, Sister. It was a brave thing to do, coming with me in that shambles. I’ll be close by, on call, if Matron wishes to see the man for herself. And I’ll keep an eye on the shed.

And then he was gone, tramping off in the darkness to where he could watch for the burial detail, as promised.

I hastily swallowed a cup of tea, then went back into the ward, stumbling on the threshold. I must get some sleep, I told myself. As soon as I’ve spoken to Matron and we’ve contacted the proper authorities. I must write to the Colonel Sahib also as well—

Just then one of the other nursing sisters called to me, asking me to help her change the bedding of a patient whose fever had broken in a cold sweat.

Glancing at my watch, I went down the ward to where Sister Marshall was waiting. It was only a little more than forty minutes before the hour was up. Not long at all now before I could wake Matron. I blinked my eyes as the face of the watch seemed to swim in front of them. Shaking off my fatigue, I smiled at Sister Marshall’s patient. This is a good sign. You’ll feel like drinking a little broth later. To begin healing. I made a mental note to bring the Lieutenant a cup as soon as he was settled again.

My head was pounding as I bent over the bed to tuck in the sheets and my shoulders were beginning to ache. I ignored the pain, moving on to the next bed to hold a patient upright as he went into a paroxysm of coughing, hardly able to draw the next breath. Thirty minutes now until I could wake Matron.

When the time came, I didn’t wake up Matron after all, nor tell her about the extra body in the shed.

Instead I was being carried to an empty cot on a stretcher, and I was soon fighting for my life.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS MY turn to be nursed, and I remember very little about it. Feverish and choking on the fluids that threatened to overwhelm my struggling lungs, I was ill for days, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Once it seemed I heard Matron saying, She’s strong, I thought she’d be all right.

I tried to rouse myself to tell her about Private Wilson and the body in the shed, but I couldn’t put the words together and must have made no sense.

Another time I heard Dr. Wright speaking. I opened my eyes and saw his thin, haggard face as he bent over me to listen to my lungs. Her father is Colonel Richard Crawford. He’ll want to know.

Know what? That I was dying? But I couldn’t let them down by dying! I couldn’t imagine my mother’s face when word came. A telegram? A letter? I couldn’t hold the thought long enough to decide.

Later still, it was Simon Brandon’s voice that reached me in the dim recesses of illness and pain, urging me to drink a little broth to keep my strength up. But Simon was in England, and I was in France. Confused, I let myself drift once more, wanting to cry with the agony in my chest that was threatening to kill me.

He was there again, bathing my face and hands as the fever peaked, and finally as I lay so weak that opening my eyes seemed to be too great an effort even to contemplate, his voice said bracingly, It was a close-run thing, Bess, but you’re going to live. I’m taking you to England tomorrow. Hang on a little longer, and you’ll be home.

A while later, it was an Australian voice that spoke to me, and I felt my hands gripped tightly. But I couldn’t respond.

I was told afterward that I’d slept most of the journey back to England. Because of that, and the fact that in Somerset it had been raining for a week or more, it was decided that the longer journey home would be too much for me. Instead as soon as we landed in Dover, I was settled into a motorcar amongst a mountain of pillows and carried by easy stages to Eastbourne, on the southern coast of Sussex. There my father had taken rooms at the Grand Hotel.

I was aware in Dover—only just—of my mother’s hands touching my face and her voice saying, My darling! and then my father telling her, Don’t cry, my love, she’s safe now.

And Simon’s voice said, She was exhausted to begin with, even before she was taken ill. It will be some time before she’s herself again.

I hoped I wasn’t dreaming in delirium, that they really were there.

I awoke one morning in a lovely room filled with sunshine, the sound of the sea rolling across the shingle strand a soothing backdrop to living in the present once more. As I opened my eyes, I found it difficult to imagine where I was. Not at home. Nor in London or France. Not even in the cramped little stateroom on a crossing. Around me now were the elegant furnishings and high ceilings of a first-class hotel. Or was it an hotel?

India? The Maharani’s palace? But I was lying in a bed, not on silver-shot silk cushions.

Just then my gaze found my mother’s face. Surprised, I said, Hullo. My voice sounded rusty from disuse. All the same, I could almost watch the strain fade as she smiled at me.

My darling girl, she exclaimed, and her fingers reached out to brush a strand of hair from my forehead. Could you drink a little more broth, do you think?

And for once I drained the cup before I lay back against the pillows, too weak to do more than watch the shadows of sunlight on water that danced across the ceiling above my head. The sea air was heavenly, the sun bright, no guns thundering in the distance too close for comfort. I took a deep breath and smiled.

As she took the cup away, my mother must have said something to my father, because he came in almost at once, taking up my hands as they lay on the coverlet and kissing them gently. Welcome home, he said, his voice husky.

Much later I understood how hard it had been for him, this illness of mine. For once in his life, he had faced an enemy a regiment with all its might couldn’t defeat.

He sat for a time by my bed, watching me as I drifted quietly into sleep again, and when I woke, it was Simon sitting there in his place.

The Colonel is resting. Your mother as well, he told me softly. I don’t think they’ve closed their eyes for days.

I was sure he hadn’t either, for the lines of worry in his face told their own tale.

Smiling, he fed me more broth, and held my hand as my father had done while I slipped in and out of a healing sleep.

They took it by turns, the three of them, staying constantly by my side, plumping pillows, feeding me until I could manage a spoon for myself, and talking of things that had nothing to do with war or sickness. Gradually I understood where I was and was even carried to the window to lie there for a while and watch the sea below.

When I was stronger I was allowed to sit on the sunny balcony, swathed in blankets and shawls. My father read

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