In the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, José squeezed Bella’s hand. ‘She’ll be all right.’
‘I know, I’m sorry, but I worry about her, I always worry about her. She was drunk, and I shouldn’t have let her go back by herself.’
He slipped his arm round her back. ‘It’s OK, it’s OK, we’ll make sure that she is all right.’
Bella looked into his face. ‘Thank you.’
He pulled her closer and started to kiss her. Bella pulled free, touched the side of his face and whispered, ‘I love you. You’re the only man in my life I’ve ever loved.’
As he bent to kiss her again, the Rolls-Royce veered to the right with a screech of brakes, almost throwing them out of their seats. The taxicab screamed past them, engine roaring, as the Rolls-Royce came to a halt inches from the gatepost. Bella didn’t wait for the chauffeur to open the door for her — she was out of the car in a flash and running up the driveway, her high heels in her hand.
She stopped short for a brief moment, gasping in shock as she came face to face with Harry Rawlins — and then he was gone, diving into the bushes.
José came up behind her. ‘What in hell is going on?’
She grabbed his arm. ‘For God’s sake, get to the house, see if she’s all right!’
Despite the encumbrance of her dress, Bella was running like a wild thing and got to the house first. Shouting over her shoulder for José to switch on the ground lights, she opened the door and ran up the stairs, into Linda’s bedroom, all the while calling her name at the top of her lungs.
José found the light switch and instantly the grounds were flooded with pale green light.
Bella opened the windows on to the balcony and stepped out. ‘Linda! Where are you?’ She leaned over the balcony to call down to José when she saw her. It was the red dress, billowing round Linda as she floated in the pool.
Bella screamed, pointed frantically, and ran back into the house.
Mr. Jarrow ushered Dolly out of his consulting room and signaled to his receptionist.
‘Well, I look forward to seeing you next week, Mrs. Rawlins.’ He patted her arm reassuringly. ‘Are you quite sure you’re feeling all right?’
Dolly smiled. ‘Not now, but I will be, after the operation.’
‘I’m sure you will, Mrs. Rawlins. Thank you for coming in. There are just a few final details my receptionist can deal with.’ Dolly dismissed, he went back to his desk and opened another file, readying himself for his next patient.
The receptionist smiled at Dolly. ‘Just one last thing, Mrs. Rawlins: how will you be paying? Check? Banker’s card?’
Dolly snapped her bag shut. ‘Cash. I’ll be paying in cash.’
She walked out on to Harley Street, got into her car and drove off. She arrived just ahead of the estate agent, checked her watch and looked at herself in the driving mirror. She pulled the skin a little tighter under her eyes and underneath her neck, and couldn’t help but give herself a secret smile. She was still smiling when the estate agent tapped on the window.
‘Mrs. Marsh?’
Dolly almost jumped out of her skin. ‘Yes?’
‘Ah, I’m the estate agent. Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘Oh, that’s all right.’
The flat had one bedroom, a kitchen, bathroom and lounge. It had the unmistakable smell of a rented place, a smell of carpet that had been washed very quickly after the last tenant had left. Dolly hated it. But it would serve its purpose.
The estate agent, in his shiny suit, carried in Dolly’s last case with a grunt, obviously a little miffed at being asked to help with her luggage. He handed Dolly the keys and took out his folder with all the details. The phone, gas and electricity had all been connected.
He turned toward her with a smirk. ‘Just a question of, um, the financial arrangements now, Mrs. Marsh.’
Dolly loathed these weaselly little men. ‘Would you just take the large case through to the bedroom for me, please?’
His smirk died. ‘Yes, of course, Mrs. Marsh.’ Staggering under the weight of the large suitcase, he dragged it into the seedy bedroom. Dolly picked up the smaller case, placed it on the sofa and took out a set of keys. She checked that the estate agent was still busy with the case, then opened the lid. The money was still wrapped in the bank’s plastic bags. She took one out, shut the case, locked it and put it back on the floor. Going to the table, she sat down and very slowly began counting out the money. The estate agent came out of the bedroom.
‘As I was saying, Mrs. Marsh—’
‘Will there be any reduction if I give you cash?’
‘Er... er... no, I’m afraid not,’ he stuttered. ‘It’s a flat rate, Mrs. Marsh. I, er, I have no bargaining power at all.’
‘I see. Well, there’s six months’ rent in advance.’
He didn’t know whether to sit and count it, glancing at his papers, then back at Dolly, and finally decided against it.
‘I would like a receipt, if that’s possible?’ she said with a smile.
‘Yes, of course, Mrs. Marsh. I’ll do that right away.’
‘Thank you very much. You’ve been most helpful.’
‘Oh, think nothing of it, Mrs. Marsh.’
Dolly slipped a £10 note into his top pocket, and suddenly he couldn’t do enough for her.
‘If you have any problems whatsoever, Mrs. Marsh, you just contact me. Ask for me personally — Mr. Fish.’
‘Yes, I will,’ Dolly said, almost shutting the door in his face. And then she was alone. Alone in this awful flat.
She took a carton of milk, a jar of instant coffee and a packet of biscuits out of her shopping bag and into the kitchen. It had the same sparse, unloved feeling. She put the milk in the fridge, picked up the kettle, and then put it down again. She felt her hands — the handle of the kettle was greasy. Looking in the cupboard, the cups were chipped, and one of the saucers still had an old ring from the last occupant’s tea.
Dolly ran the water in the sink. Even the bowl was grimy. She turned the tap off and stood for a moment. She thought of her home, her beautiful house, where everything had been so immaculate, so perfect.
She went back to her shopping bag and took out Fairy Liquid, Vim and a pair of rubber gloves. She brought them to the kitchen and turned the tap back on.
Well, if she was going to live here, she’d damned well make sure it was clean.
José had been the one to haul Linda’s body out of the water. Bella had been worse than useless, weeping hysterically and asking Linda to forgive her. It was only José’s calmness and quick thinking that had saved Linda’s life. He turned her over, let the water empty out of her lungs, then gave her the kiss of life. It was José who carried her into the lounge, who somehow found the bandages and cleaned up her face. Knowing that the ambulance was on its way, he helped Bella undress Linda, wrapped a blanket round her and gave her brandy. As he fed her carefully with a teaspoon, her eyes opened and she stared into his face.
He smiled. ‘You all right, Leenda? Everything’s going to be OK, Leenda...’
It was the ‘Leenda, Leenda...’ that brought it all back, the taxi driver smiling as he walked toward her up the stairs. She started to scream.
José stepped away. ‘She’s in shock. You take care of her, Bella. I’ll go and change.’ As he was leaving the lounge, he turned back to Bella. ‘Did you call the ambulance? The doctor?’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
‘And the police? Are you going to call the police?’
Bella shook her head. ‘No, no police. I don’t want the police.’
‘But you must call the police! The place has obviously been burgled. Leenda almost died!’