Read Online The Fallen Curtain by Ruth Rendell - Free Book Online Page B

washed the dishes and wiped down every surface in the immaculate, well-fitted kitchen, had her bath, made her bedtime drink, and let the bed down from the wall, she went on her security rounds just as her father did at home. First she unlocked and unbolted the back door and crossed the yard to check that the side gate was securely fastened. It always was, as no one ever touched it, but Della liked to make absolutely sure, and sometimes went back several times in case her eyes had deceived her. Then she bolted and locked the back door, the garden door, and the bathroom door. All these doors opened out of a small room, about ten feet square—Mrs Swanson called it the garden room—which in itsturn could be locked off by yet another door from the kitchen. Della locked it. She rather regretted she couldn’t lock the door that led from the kitchen into the bed-sitting room but, owing to some oversight on Mrs Swanson’s part, there was no lock on it. However, her own front door in the bed-sitter itself was locked, of course, on the Yale. Finally, before getting into bed, she bolted the front door.
    Then she was safe. Though she sometimes got up once or twice more to make assurance trebly sure, she generally settled down at this point into blissful sleep, certain that even the most accomplished of burglars couldn’t break in.
    There was only one drawback—the rent.
    “The flat,” said Mrs Swanson, “is really intended for two people. A married couple had it before you, and before that two ladies shared it.”
    “I couldn’t share my bed,” said Della with a shudder, “or, come to that, my room.”
    “If you found a nice friend to share, I wouldn’t object to putting up a single bed in the garden room. Then your friend could come and go by the side gate, provided you were prepared to
promise
me it would always be bolted at night.”
    Della wasn’t going to advertise for a flatmate. You couldn’t be too careful. Yet she had to find someone if she was going to afford any new winter clothes, not to mention heating the place. It would have to be the right person, someone to fill all her own exacting requirements as well as satisfy Mrs Swanson….
    “Ooh, it’s lovely!” said Rosamund Vine.” It’s so quiet and clean. And you’ve got a garden! You should see the dump I’ve been living in. It was over-run with mice.”
    “You don’t get mice,” said Della repressively, “unless you leave food about.”
    “I won’t do that. I’ll be ever so careful. I’ll go halves with the rent and I’ll have the key to the back door, shall I? That way I won’t disturb you if I come in late at night.”
    “I hope you won’t come in late at night,” said Della. “Mrs Swanson’s very particular about that sort of thing.”
    “Don’t worry.” Rosamund sounded rather bitter. “I’ve nothing and no one to keep me out late. Anyway, the last bus passes the end of the road at a quarter of twelve.”
    Della pushed aside her misgivings, and Mrs Swanson, interviewing Rosamund, appeared to have none. She made a point of explaining the safety precautions, to which Rosamund listened meekly and with earnest nods of her head. Della was glad this duty hadn’t fallen to her, as she didn’t want Rosamund to tell exaggerated tales about her at work. So much the better if she could put it all on Mrs Swanson.
    Rosamund Vine had been chosen with the care Della devoted to every choice she made. It had taken three weeks of observation and keeping her ears open to select her. It wouldn’t do to find someone on too low a salary or, on the other hand, someone with too lofty a position in the company. She didn’t like the idea of a spectacularly good-looking girl, for such led hectic lives, or too clever a girl, for such might involve her in tiresome arguments. An elegant girl would fill the cupboards with clothes and the bathroom with cosmetics. A gifted girl would bring in musical instruments or looms or paints or trunks full of books.