Free The Saint Zita Society by Ruth Rendell Page B

real and of real people in silk and satin, grandfathers and grandmothers of Mr Still and
their
grandfathers and grandmothers. And to think that when her father took her back to Pakistan when she was sixteen to meet her future husband, relatives had asked her if it was true that everyone in United Kingdom was equal.
    They had brought all the food for the weekend with them, bags and crates and cool boxes of it, all delivered by M&S and Ocado the day before. Rabia helped Mr Still carry it in. She got the girls to help too because Lucy couldn’t, she said she was tired, being driven out here always exhausted her. Rabia had plenty to do, lunch to be got for one thing, then Thomas put down for his afternoon nap, but she went out later for a walk in the grounds. The girls refused to come with her; their quarrel in the past now, they preferred to play computer games in the bedroom they shared. They might as well have been in London. Rabia saw rabbits and a squirrel, something in the distance that might have been a badger but she couldn’t be sure, she had never seen one before. The gardener she had encountered on her previous visit. He had stared then at her long black gown and her hijab but this time he was used to her appearance and seemed to understand that she spoke English and wasn’t crazy or fierce, and greeted her with an ‘Afternoon, missus’.
    ‘Good afternoon,’ said Rabia. ‘Are you digging that up to plant flowers?’
    ‘That’s right. Preparing the flower bed. We’ll have somebulbs in there for the spring and then some annuals for the summer.’
    ‘That will be very beautiful.’ Rabia told him about her father who was the manager of a nursery that sold flowers and plants and trees and the man seemed very interested.
    Her walk had taken her to look at the stream and the little wood and a little maze she didn’t go in because you could get lost. The worry that had been with her for months now, whether she should speak out in the matter of Lucy’s immoral, and to Rabia criminal, behaviour, she could put to the back of her mind while she was out in the fresh air and under the trees. She went back to the house, feeling cheerful and ready to think about what to give them all for their dinners.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T he weekend passed pleasantly enough for Montserrat, all alone at number 7. She celebrated the departure of the Stills by drinking too much in the Dugong on Saturday night. Walking home was not to be contemplated without assistance. This was given by a rather good-looking man, a newcomer to the Dugong, who she thought – insofar as she was able to think – would leave her at the basement door once she had managed to turn her key in the lock. He had different ideas, came in with her, came into her flat with her and in her bedroom proceeded to undress her without her permission. She was too weak to resist and, once naked, had no wish to resist. He stayed all night, departing at eight in the morning after taking her mobile number. He also took a gold bracelet from Lucy’s jewel box, discovered during the hurried tour he made of the house before leaving.
    This was something Monserrat only discovered a week later, or guessed at a week later, when Lucy couldn’t find the bracelet. Of course she said nothing. The rather good-looking man hadn’t called her, so how was she supposed to know who he was or where he lived? It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell Thea about her experience, blaming her insensible state on his dropping Rohypnol into her drink, but latershe was glad she hadn’t mentioned it. She and Thea went out on the Sunday and Monserrat hadn’t felt too bad, enjoying the sunshine on Wimbledon Common and later sharing a bottle of wine in a pizza place.
    The bit of banister seemed more shaky than ever, so, feeling very responsible, she made a notice out of a sheet of cardboard, wrote on it in block capitals, DANGER. DO NOT TOUCH, and hung it on the rail by a piece of string.
    T he question of