The driveway was long and was screened by foliage. The gateposts were grand and had the words ‘Ashby Manor’ carved into the masonry. The house itself was beautiful, a rambling red-brick and black-timbered Jacobean mansion complete with tall chimney stacks and diamond-leaded windows, some partially covered by the wisteria that spread across the front and buzzed with evening insects. She was released from the conditioned interior of the car into the still warmth of the outside and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Hilary rang the doorbell for her and was gone before the muffled chime had even died down. The solid door creaked open and a blonde in a skin-tight red rubber skirt and matching half-cut bra and elbow length gloves stood impassively before her. If there was any doubt about the nature
