Chapter Seventeen
Feminine Touches
In the pastel pink, matching shoes and stockings, he waited for the key to turn. The choice had been no choice at all. It had to be pink because it was the dress that she had worn the day before. The locked-on stilettos not allowing the suffering maid to take them off without the key, and the key was in Edith’s possession.
Steps by the door.
There was no clock in the room, no way of telling what time it was but for the light that filtered through the curtains. The maid hastily made herself ready, paints and powders, blushers and lipstick before she straightened the creases in her dress as well as she could.
The handle turned and there was Simon’s wife, ready to go to work.
Clearly Edith had been shopping and the terrified maid wondered how much she
