The Thief Read Online Free PDF Page B

their black leaves. The sunglasses she wore made the darkness darker but she was afraid to take them off. It was a long street and she had come into it at number 188. It seemed like miles to 34 but at last she was outside its gate. Or outside the gate of 32, not daring to get too close. She held on to a fence post like an old woman afraid she might fall.
    No lights were on in the house. It was in deep darkness and its front garden was full of dark bushes. A little light from a street lamp shone on the windows so that they looked like black glass. Of all the houses on this side only number 34 had a brightly painted front door. It was hard to tell the exact colour but it seemed to be yellow, the yellow of food, an egg yolk or a piece of cheese.
    Plainly, no one was at home. She went almost on tip-toe up to the front window and tried to look inside. It was too dark to see much, just the shapes of dull heavy chairs and tables. She looked to see if there was a name under the doorbell but there was nothing. The phone book had said a T.H. Lant lived here, not that he did. It might be a Thomas or Tim Lant. She had no way of knowing. He might not even live in London but up north somewhere or in Wales or by the sea. She would have to come back in daylight. Tomorrow was Saturday and she could come then.
    What would she say to Alex? Make some excuse. You mean, tell some lie, she said to herself. But she would have to. Suppose Alex were in her position, he would have to lie. But he wouldn’t be, she told herself as she walked back to the bus stop, feeling weak and tired. He would never do the things I do . . .

CHAPTER FIVE
    O N THE WAY HOME she thought, suppose I find the police waiting for me? I can explain, she thought. I can tell them he gave it to me. Or I can say I know nothing about it. And if they want to search the house? I’ll say it’s my money, I’ll say those are Alex’s clothes . . . Alex opened the front door to her before she got her key out.
    ‘I phoned Louise,’ he said. ‘I wanted to pick you up, take you out to dinner.’ He looked hurt. ‘There was something I was planning to ask you.’
    Polly thought, he was going to propose to me. He was going to ask me to marry him. For once, she didn’t know what to say. It was too late to go out now and she was so tired she thought she could fall asleep standing up.
    ‘You left me a note saying you’d be there.’
    ‘I know. I meant to go.’ She was so used to him trusting her, believing everything she said, that the look on his face shocked her. But she was a good liar. She had had plenty of practice. Coming up close to him, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘I got on the bus, the one that goes to Louise’s road. It’s only two stops. But I was so tired I fell asleep and when I woke up I was in Finchley.’
    He believed her. His face had cleared and he laughed, but gently. ‘You should have waited for me and I’d have taken you in the car.’
    ‘I know you would.’ She had to find out. ‘What were you planning to ask me?’
    He smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it. Another time.’
    ‘I really need a drink.’
    As she said it she thought of Trevor Lant saying she drank too much. Why had she ever spoken to him? Why hadn’t she just kept silent when he spoke to her? Alex brought her a glass of wine.
    ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.
    ‘I don’t want anything. I just want to go to bed.’
    Suppose he had looked inside the washing machine? Before she went to bed, while Alex was watching the news on TV, she took out Trevor Lant’s clothes. She put them in a bag and put the bag in the bottom of her wardrobe. Tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep. How to get away on her own for an hour or two in the morning? Just to go back to Bristol Road, see it in daylight, maybe talk to someone next door and find out who lived there. Alex slept beside her, still and silent as he always was. He wants to marry me, she thought. We’ve never really talked about it but