Nadiaâs handbag was still on the chest. The ring with the marked keys was beside it; she assumed the car key was still in the bag.
Then she turned her attention to the curved staircase, first of all going down to examine the basement area. There was a utility room and a larder with crates of drinks and shelves, which were mostly empty, just a few tins of chicken soup and ravioli on them. Sheâd expected more. But the two freezers were well filled, mainly with ready meals.
Then she suddenly found herself immersed in lime-green reflections. The swimming pool! It was roughly as big as the living room and presumably deep enough for a non-swimmer to drown in. Half of the outside wall consisted of sliding glass doors. Beyond them a lawn sloped up to the garden. A door in one wall led to a tiny chamber full of machinery, presumably belonging to the pool. She didnât examine it too closely, the place was too cramped and too dark. And Nadia wasnât paying her to find out about circulating pumps, water filters and the like. In an adjoining room she found fitness equipment, a sunbed and the sauna.
This was the life! It was an alien world, but familiar from her dreams. Sheâd read about it a thousand times, suffering with the maids or the daughters of destitute counts, hoping theyâd be rescued from their poverty, yet not believing such things actually existed - at least not for an ordinary bank clerk.
After a few minutes she went back up the stairs and on to the first floor. Six closed doors gave the impression of forbidden entry. But behind the
very first she opened was a room where she immediately felt at home. It had everything sheâd looked for and not found in the living room. There was an archetypal comfortable couch with three dozen cushions scattered about. It looked infinitely more used and nothing like as sterile as the suite downstairs. Beside the couch was a cupboard with two drawers and two doors which concealed a stack of towels and two bottles. âMassage oilâ, she read. What that brought to mind was the tensed-up neck muscles, sheâd been living alone too long for any other thoughts. On the wall opposite the couch was a proper television, a video recorder, a satellite box and a stereo system.
Behind the second door was a bathroom. On the edge of the bath was a jar full of pink balls. For a second she thought they were sweets - but only for a second. One sniff told her they must be bath salts. She used the lavatory and for a while couldnât see the how to flush it until she found the plate in the wall behind the loo, which looked almost the same as the tiles around it. She couldnât suppress a brief grin.
Behind the third door was the bedroom. At least she assumed it was the bedroom. She only realized it must be a guest room when she saw exactly the same furnishings behind the next door. Their bedroom was behind the fifth door. Top quality, expensive, tasteful, pure white relieved by glass here and there and a touch of brass. The royal suite, there was no other name for it. There was no wardrobe but a dressing room with large mirrors, drawers and rails full of clothes. And not only city clothes, there were several evening dresses on the hangers.
A further door led from the bedroom to a huge bathroom. In fact a double bathroom. The shower cubicle was a separate room and considerably bigger than the recess which figured in her lease as a bathroom-cum-shower. A few steps led up to the circular bathtub. There was a smell of Nadiaâs perfume and fragrant bath oil. Open-mouthed, she admired the two washstands with bathroom cabinets either side and a white set of basketwork shelves with a collection of menâs toiletries. The inescapable surveillance monitor was beside the door and clearly visible from the bath. Having discovered the tiny screen, she decided she had sufficiently familiarized herself with everything. She would just have a quick look in the sixth room
Then she turned her attention to the curved staircase, first of all going down to examine the basement area. There was a utility room and a larder with crates of drinks and shelves, which were mostly empty, just a few tins of chicken soup and ravioli on them. Sheâd expected more. But the two freezers were well filled, mainly with ready meals.
Then she suddenly found herself immersed in lime-green reflections. The swimming pool! It was roughly as big as the living room and presumably deep enough for a non-swimmer to drown in. Half of the outside wall consisted of sliding glass doors. Beyond them a lawn sloped up to the garden. A door in one wall led to a tiny chamber full of machinery, presumably belonging to the pool. She didnât examine it too closely, the place was too cramped and too dark. And Nadia wasnât paying her to find out about circulating pumps, water filters and the like. In an adjoining room she found fitness equipment, a sunbed and the sauna.
This was the life! It was an alien world, but familiar from her dreams. Sheâd read about it a thousand times, suffering with the maids or the daughters of destitute counts, hoping theyâd be rescued from their poverty, yet not believing such things actually existed - at least not for an ordinary bank clerk.
After a few minutes she went back up the stairs and on to the first floor. Six closed doors gave the impression of forbidden entry. But behind the
very first she opened was a room where she immediately felt at home. It had everything sheâd looked for and not found in the living room. There was an archetypal comfortable couch with three dozen cushions scattered about. It looked infinitely more used and nothing like as sterile as the suite downstairs. Beside the couch was a cupboard with two drawers and two doors which concealed a stack of towels and two bottles. âMassage oilâ, she read. What that brought to mind was the tensed-up neck muscles, sheâd been living alone too long for any other thoughts. On the wall opposite the couch was a proper television, a video recorder, a satellite box and a stereo system.
Behind the second door was a bathroom. On the edge of the bath was a jar full of pink balls. For a second she thought they were sweets - but only for a second. One sniff told her they must be bath salts. She used the lavatory and for a while couldnât see the how to flush it until she found the plate in the wall behind the loo, which looked almost the same as the tiles around it. She couldnât suppress a brief grin.
Behind the third door was the bedroom. At least she assumed it was the bedroom. She only realized it must be a guest room when she saw exactly the same furnishings behind the next door. Their bedroom was behind the fifth door. Top quality, expensive, tasteful, pure white relieved by glass here and there and a touch of brass. The royal suite, there was no other name for it. There was no wardrobe but a dressing room with large mirrors, drawers and rails full of clothes. And not only city clothes, there were several evening dresses on the hangers.
A further door led from the bedroom to a huge bathroom. In fact a double bathroom. The shower cubicle was a separate room and considerably bigger than the recess which figured in her lease as a bathroom-cum-shower. A few steps led up to the circular bathtub. There was a smell of Nadiaâs perfume and fragrant bath oil. Open-mouthed, she admired the two washstands with bathroom cabinets either side and a white set of basketwork shelves with a collection of menâs toiletries. The inescapable surveillance monitor was beside the door and clearly visible from the bath. Having discovered the tiny screen, she decided she had sufficiently familiarized herself with everything. She would just have a quick look in the sixth room
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