Jonathan Rivers

Jonathan Rivers lived alone in a neat, two-storey, semi-detached house in Compton Street. Like many bachelors approaching middle age, he was getting rather set in his ways. He caught the same train to London every morning, ate his lunch in the same crowded restaurant near the office where he worked and always came home on the 6:00 train. People were so used to seeing Jonathan set off at a quarter past eight, dressed in a simple dark suit, wearing a black bowler hat and carrying a rolled umbrella on his arm, that they said you didn't need to wear a watch if you lived in Compton Street.

Ever since Jonathan had set up house in Compton Street, he had looked after it very carefully. He worked hard in the garden every Sunday and set out to impress the neighbours with his flowerbeds and lawn. Before he left the house in the mornings, he carefully closed all the doors downstairs, opened some windows to let the air in and locked the front door. Everything Jonathan did was tidy and systematic.

One summer evening Jonathan returned home as usual at five minutes to seven precisely. When he opened the front gate he immediately noticed something strange. There was a heavy footprint in the earth in one of the flowerbeds. Jonathan was just going to blame the milkman or the postman when he noticed that one of the white lace curtains in the front room downstairs was out of place. Jonathan never left anything out of place.

He walked up to the front door and opened it quietly. He listened carefully for a few moments but could hear nothing. The front-room door was half-open. Jonathan studied it thoughtfully, wondering if he had forgotten to close it that morning. He had never forgotten before. He stepped silently across the hall to the door and looked inside the room. The shadow of a man was clearly reflected on the far wall in the evening sunlight. He had obviously been standing behind the door since Jonathan's return. Jonathan grabbed the door-handle, slammed the door and turned the key. Then he calmly picked up the telephone in the hall and set about calling the police.

The burglar, a tall, thickset, bearded fellow, tried to climb through a window to get out but Jonathan had expected that. He set about him with his umbrella, using it like a sword. Three minutes later the police arrived on the scene. Jonathan was a little annoyed that he had to have dinner later than usual but on the whole he felt quite pleased with himself.

Short Answer Questions

1. What is the story about?
2. What was Jonathan Rivers like?
3. Where did he usually have his dinner?
4. What was the first thing he noticed in his garden that summer evening?
5. How did he live?

(Keys.)