The Body at Auercliff Read Online Free

them to run out of rooms. The King's Head. I'm sure they have room for all of you, so long as you get there early enough.”

Chapter Four
     
    “Emily Switherington?” the landlord replies as he leads me up the narrow, twisty staircase. “Well, now there's a character, alright. Lady of the manor, so to speak.”
    “But have you seen her around lately?” I ask, taking care on the bumpy, uneven steps.
    “What, like in the village?” He chuckles. “She's never been one for coming in and mixing with us regular types. She even arranged to get food delivered out there from the shop, once a month, and do you know what the guy finds every time he arrives?”
    Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks the nearest door.
    “A paper check in an envelope,” he continues. “She doesn't even go out and give him the time of day. If you ask me, she's become something of a recluse over the years.”
    “I can believe that,” I mutter.
    “This is the room,” he adds, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let me through. “Like I said, the price includes a full English in the bar in the morning.”
    “That sounds great,” I reply, taking a look around the room before turning to him. “So my aunt really never comes into town? And she never invites anyone out to Auercliff, apart from the delivery guy?”
    “Keeps herself to herself,” he mutters. “Been like that ever since her husband died, from what I've heard. Shame, really. Auercliff used to be pretty important to village life, but these days most people have almost forgotten the house is still there. What kind of state's it in, anyway? I've kinda assumed it's starting to crumble by now.”
    “You're not far wrong,” I tell him, feeling a faint shudder at the thought of my aunt sealing herself off in the house. “It's almost like she wants to spend the rest of her days just rattling around alone.”

Chapter Five
     
    A little after 9am the next morning, I slam my car door shut and make my way across the gravel drive. Somehow Auercliff seems brighter today, as if the sun is having an easier job of breaking through the trees.
     
    ***
     
    “And best of all,” I continue, as I take another bandage out from the First Aid kit, “the landlord actually has cellphones nailed to the wall above the bar. There's a sign saying anyone who's caught with their phone out will get them added to the collection. Can you believe that?”
    “Old Simon Hughes has always been a Luddite,” Emily mutters, sitting up a little higher in the bed. “I remember a time when the King's Head didn't even have mains electricity. I think it wasn't until, oh, 1955 or 1956 that a connection was made. Of course, the pub used to be owned by Simon's father Geoffrey, who was even worse. Geoffrey Hughes was the rudest, foulest man alive. Simon is at least tolerable.”
    Sliding the sock down on her left leg, I can't help noticing that Emily seems much more lucid this morning, and friendlier too. It's as if a night's sleep has given her the chance to get used to my presence.
    “Do you mind if I ask you something that might seem a little personal?” I say after a moment, hoping that I'm not moving too quickly. Still, I need to get her on my side if I'm to have any hope of persuading her to go to hospital.
    “And what might that be?”
    I lift the bandage I put in place yesterday, revealing the wound beneath. It certainly isn't any worse, but I still want to find a way to get her out of here for a few days, so she can be monitored properly.
    “How much can you see?” I ask finally.
    When she doesn't answer, I look over at her face and see that she's looking toward the end of the bed. Her whitened eyes appear to be a little moist, almost teary.
    “I can see as much as I need,” she mutters, a little defensively.
    “Can you see this?” I ask, holding up my left hand and waving it toward her.
    She doesn't respond, not at first, but after a few seconds she tilts her head slightly.
    “It's a