Susie Learns the Hard Way by Roger Quine Read Free Book Online Page B

that – nothing!
    And the moment the money changed hands, Annie vanished completely.
    Spirited away as soon as dusk fell over the peaceful suburban street, she began her tortuous journey eastwards, towards a lifetime of enslaved depravity as the plaything of men who used her in any way they chose .
    Brilliant!
    Susie listened carefully through the night but heard nothing from the rooms above, nor saw a thing. Early next morning she lay in bed debating whether to get up early to go and collect her newly-developed pictures, or go later, after she’d finished off what her teasing fingers had just begun.
    No contest really.
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Chapter Three
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    The distant trilling of a telephone brought her back from her dreamy relaxed state. It wasn’t her telephone but the familiar tones of the one upstairs, muffled by its passage through the floorboards. It rang for a long while, somehow making her own flat seem as empty as the one upstairs, before it eventually stopped. By that time she was wide awake and on the move.
    Susie sat in her kitchen, coffee mug steaming beside her as she pondered carefully, and reached no conclusion apart from the fact that she was cold. She headed for the shower, and apart from a momentary distraction with the tingling jets of hot water, she thought carefully about the recent events and began to form an idea about her next course of action.
    She dressed quickly, pulling on a white blouse and a black pleated skirt. They were both old, and allowed her plenty of movement. She pulled on a pair of thick, soft socks; more grey than white, they were more than anything else, quiet. She didn’t know why she was bothering about noise, since there was no one to hear her, but somehow it seemed vital to creep upstairs on tiptoe.
    She didn’t know why she was frightened either, but she was, a sort of cold tingle all over her body, jittering every fibre of her being with icy fingertips. Well, almost every fibre. There was one part of her that was hot, and she realised that the fear had once again liquefied in her knickers as a pool of molten heat. She smiled at the familiar response, and that seemed to encourage her a little. Feeling more brave and less stupid, but just as aroused, she opened the front door of her flat a fraction and peered out into the empty hallway.
    It was, unsurprisingly, empty.
    On the stairs it seemed that every floorboard was loose and each one went off like a gunshot. Each sharp crack had a twofold effect, making her flinch with fear and seep more juice.
    At the front door she paused, listening, then knocked loudly. She wasn’t expecting an answer; she knew there was no one home, but just in case she was wrong she had her story rehearsed, even had an empty cup in her hand for the sugar. But neither were needed: there was no answer.
    Slowly she pushed the key into the slot, hoping it would work. When she moved in she was the first tenant in the newly-refurbished building and when she’d called at the agents’ office for her key she’d been invited to help herself out of an old biscuit tin. ‘They’re all the same, dearie,’ said the woman in the office. ‘It’s easier that way, but you can change yours if you like, and then the next person can keep theirs the same.’
    She hadn’t changed the lock, and she was hoping that the people upstairs either didn’t know about this estate agent’s convenience factor or, like her, simply hadn’t bothered to do anything about it.
    Her hand was trembling as she paused a moment, then applied pressure. The key turned easily and silently and the door opened just as quickly, so that she almost fell into the hallway.
    With the door wide she knocked again, ready to say she’d seen it open and was merely concerned about burglars.
    â€˜Hello?’
    Her voice echoed into the emptiness. There was no answer. This was the moment of truth. She breathed in deeply and stepped swiftly