by BigBird74
3.
Home at last! Travelling through the centre of town
was never a good idea and late on a Friday afternoon was probably the very
worst moment. Dahlia took a deep sigh of relief as her car wended its way up
the hillside to her remote outpost atop one of the hills overlooking Barton.
Hilltop was an exclusive kind of place. The grey, drab and overcrowded
apartment blocks that predominated Barton’s heartlands gradually gave way to
ever more greenery and wide expanses of countryside. Dahlia’s magnificent home
was perched on the side of cliff face. Far below in the shallow below sat
Barton, a slight haze sitting over it, the result mainly of traffic pollution
but also natural weather patterns that conspired to keep the bad air down
there, while up here, the air was crystal clear.
The house itself was massive and pristine. The
whitewashed stone walls kept the building comfortably cool in the summer, while
retaining its warmth in the winter. Nothing had been overlooked in the design
of this palatial home. Dahlia had taken some credit for the munificence, but in
reality her involvement had been as token as picking between one of three pictures
displaying an artist’s rendition of how the place could look. Her heels clicked
loudly on the solid stone floor as she slinked her way indoors, where her maid,
Petra, was waiting for her.