Thirteen Steps Down by Ruth Rendell Page B

health club. He
    told himself that all this walking must be improving his figure. Arriving
    on the dot often, he turned his eyes away from the chrome number
    thirteenand got quickly into the lift. Glancing round the girls and acouple
    of young men working out, he saw at once that Nerissa wasn't among
    them. Probably it was a bit early for her. His fussy eye appraised Danila
    and he decided that though skinny and scared, she wasn't so bad.
    Knowing her better might helphim in his quest.
    "Madam Shoshana said to ask you not to fiddle about with the
    machines the clients are using. I'm only telling you what she said."
    "You can trust me," he said. "I know what I'm doing."
    "And she says not to use any oil or stuff like that because if it gets on
    the clients' gear they're going to go ballistic. It's what she said, not me."
    "I only use invisible fat-free oil," Mix lied.
    He had brought three new belts with him and spanners for adjusting
    the parts. Shoshana's hadn't been open very long, so servicing wasn't
    necessary, but he whiled away the time taking ellipticals apart and
    checking handlebar positions on stationarybikes. Whatever came out of
    it, he was really going to squeeze Madam Shoshana for putting him
    through this tedious business. Pity Danila had been told to keep an eye
    on him or he'd settle down in a corner and read a bit more of Christie's
    Victims.
    Danila was very thin. So was Nerissa but hers was a different kind of
    thinness. You couldn't see her bones sticking out the way Danila's did.
    And Danila's face was like a bird's with a beaky nose and not much chin.
    Still, she had great legs and more tangled-up dark hair than Mix could
    ever remember seeing on a woman's head. He had almost given up
    looking for Nerissa that day. It was eleven-fifteen and if he wasn't going
    to get clamped or towed away or whatever they did around here, he had
    to be back at the car by ten to twelve.
    Danila was sitting behind her counter, drinking a cup of black coffee.
    "Would there be another one of those going?"
    "There might be, but don't say a word, will you?" She disappeared into
    some inner recesses of the club and came backwith coffee, a milk jug,
    and sweetener in little tubular packs." Here you are. Shoshana'd kill me
    if she knew. We're not supposed to give coffee to anyone but staff."
    "You're a star," said Mix and got a smile. No time like the present, he
    thought, and keeping his eye on the door in case Nerissa did just happen
    to come in at eleven-forty, said, "You feel like having a drink? Say
    Wednesday or Thursday if you want."
    She was surprised. He would have liked her better if she'd taken such
    invitations for granted and as her due. "I don't mind," she said, and then,
    spoiling it, "Are you sure?"
    "I'll pick you up then. Where d'you live?"
    “Oxford Gardens." She gave him the number.
    "Not far from me," he said. "We'll go to KPH," he said,forgetting she
    wouldn't know what those initials meant. "Eight suit you?"
    No point, he thought, in spending the whole evening with her. Suppose
    Nerissa was one of those clients, the ones she'd talked about last time he
    was here, who only came to the club four times and then lost interest. He
    mustn't be impatient because she hadn't come today, she wouldn't come
    every day, no matter how keen she was on fitness. Next week he'd do his
    servicing on a Wednesday instead of a Tuesday. And maybe he'd psych
    himself up to walk here. It couldn't be more than a mile.

    Olive had forgotten about leaving the bone behind in Gwendolen's
    house, had hunted for it all round the block's communal gardens and
    even grubbed about in various bins outsideshops. Kylie, the little white
    dog, had been frantic. So calling on Gwendolen was not to retrieve the
    bone, but to pour out her heart to a sympathetic ear.
    Gwendolen's was never that. It was with some amusement that she
    listened to her friend's woes. The bone had been sent to Kylie by an
    American friend who shared Olive's love of