The Body at Auercliff Read Online Free Page A

hand,” she tells me.
    “How many fingers am I holding up?”
    She pauses. “I can see a shadow,” she admits finally, turning her head as if she can see better out of one side of her eyes. “That's all I need. I can see when someone's nearby.”
    “How long has your eyesight been this bad?” I ask, pulling the old bandage away entirely and immediately squeezing some antiseptic gel from the tube, filling the wound directly.
    “Oh, I don't know,” she says with a sigh, before forcing a faint smile. “There's no need to fuss, Becky. What do I really need to see, anyway? I've never been one for the television, and I have my radio right here by the bed.”
    “You shouldn't be living alone in such a big house when you can't see to get about,” I tell her. “What if you fall?”
    “Well I'll get back up again, won't I?” she replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “I've never -”
    She lets out a sudden, pained gasp as I wipe the edge of her wound. After that, she mutters something under her breath, as if she's annoyed at herself for betraying any sign of pain or weakness.
    “Do you sleep properly?” I ask.
    She looks almost directly at me, though not quite. I guess to her, I'm just another shadow.
    “I sleep as much as I need,” she says cautiously. “I certainly don't want to sleep away what little -”
    Before she can finish, there's a sudden, brief clunking sound from elsewhere in the house, as if something hit one of the many pipes that run along the walls. I immediately look toward the open door that leads out into the corridor, but of course there's no sign of anyone. When I turn back at Emily, however, I see that she's also looking toward the door, and I swear there's a hint of concern in her eyes. Almost fear.
    “Noisy place, huh?” I say with a smile, hoping to make a joke of it all.
    She doesn't reply at first, instead watching the door as if she expects to see someone, but finally she turns to me again.
    “I see as much as I need to see,” she replies finally. “And that's about all that matters, wouldn't you say?”
    “How did you get that bruise on your wrist?” I ask.
    She immediately reaches down and slips her left hand under the bed-sheets, as if to hide it from me.
    “Aunt Emily -”
    “That was a while ago,” she says firmly. “There's no point fussing.”
    “I'm sure you didn't have that bruise when I left last night,” I tell her. “Did you get up in the night and -”
    “I don't need minding like I'm some kind of baby,” she continues, snapping just a little. “What would you prefer, that I just sit in bed all night and rot?”
    “I'd prefer that you -”
    “Aren't you done yet?” she adds testily. “There's nothing wrong with my legs, you know. You're fussing over nothing!”
     
    ***
     
    “She's blind,” I mutter, sitting downstairs at the piano as I carefully dust the keys. “There's no way she'll let me examine her properly, but I doubt she has much more than 5% of her vision remaining.”
    “So get her into hospital,” Scott replies, his voice sounding a little tinny over my phone's speakers. “If she's blind and she can't get about properly, there's no way she should be living alone.”
    “It's not as easy as that. She's lived at Auercliff all her life, and she's the most stubborn woman I've ever met. I honestly think...” I pause, before lowering my voice so that there's no chance I can be overheard, even though I'm certain Emily's still up in bed. “I honestly think she's the kind of person who'd rather die in her home, instead of setting foot in any kind of hospital or residential home. She's probably scared that if she leaves, she'll never come back.”
    “But you can't force her to go to hospital.”
    “I know.”
    “She's still capable of making her own decisions.”
    “I know that too.”
    “So maybe you have to let her get on with it,” he adds. “I know it's harsh, but what else are you gonna do? Stay there forever in