MELISSA
The new clothes made me look a whole lot better but I had no illusions. I was still ugly.
Right now that didn’t matter though. Right now I was going to be paid to lounge about in my boss’s house while she scurried round doing my job.
She was quiet behind me as we descended the stairs. I wasn’t surprised. What had surprised me was that she’d really wanted to do it again. She had to be mental or something. Though I did relish the turnaround myself. It was going to be lovely to put my feet up and imagine this really was all mine.
Her reasons for wanting to do it eluded me, but I wasn’t complaining. I was just glad I’d given her that nudge. I suspected she wouldn't have gone through with it if I hadn’t.
When we reached the hall we stopped and floundered, unsure of our respective roles. It seemed she was teetering again in indecision but I gave her a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll go and watch some TV. You’ll find some rubber gloves under the stairs.”
She smiled curtly and turned to go and I almost expected her to curtsy. I was amazed by the effect the clothes had had on her. Partnered with her intentions, they’d made her into a different person, as though her stature and presence had been diminished. I watched her go, reflecting on that; wondering if that meant my own presence had been increased.
Obviously this was just a game – it couldn’t be more than that – we wouldn’t surely be doing this again. If I pushed it then she’d break character and kick me out. But it felt as though in an understated way, I was the boss now and she the cleaner. I know that was the game but it really felt like it.
I shook my head in wonder, smiling to myself, then walked to the back of the house and went into the lounge.
On Monday I'd been in here cleaning. Now it was suddenly “my” lounge.
It was a big room; really ostentatious, with facing sofas and a grand piano. There was a huge fireplace against one wall with a TV hanging above it. I sat down with some satisfaction and reached for the remote, turned it on and started flicking through channels.
The new clothes made me look a whole lot better but I had no illusions. I was still ugly.
Right now that didn’t matter though. Right now I was going to be paid to lounge about in my boss’s house while she scurried round doing my job.
She was quiet behind me as we descended the stairs. I wasn’t surprised. What had surprised me was that she’d really wanted to do it again. She had to be mental or something. Though I did relish the turnaround myself. It was going to be lovely to put my feet up and imagine this really was all mine.
Her reasons for wanting to do it eluded me, but I wasn’t complaining. I was just glad I’d given her that nudge. I suspected she wouldn't have gone through with it if I hadn’t.
When we reached the hall we stopped and floundered, unsure of our respective roles. It seemed she was teetering again in indecision but I gave her a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll go and watch some TV. You’ll find some rubber gloves under the stairs.”
She smiled curtly and turned to go and I almost expected her to curtsy. I was amazed by the effect the clothes had had on her. Partnered with her intentions, they’d made her into a different person, as though her stature and presence had been diminished. I watched her go, reflecting on that; wondering if that meant my own presence had been increased.
Obviously this was just a game – it couldn’t be more than that – we wouldn’t surely be doing this again. If I pushed it then she’d break character and kick me out. But it felt as though in an understated way, I was the boss now and she the cleaner. I know that was the game but it really felt like it.
I shook my head in wonder, smiling to myself, then walked to the back of the house and went into the lounge.
On Monday I'd been in here cleaning. Now it was suddenly “my” lounge.
It was a big room; really ostentatious, with facing sofas and a grand piano. There was a huge fireplace against one wall with a TV hanging above it. I sat down with some satisfaction and reached for the remote, turned it on and started flicking through channels.
You make sure you relish every moment Melissa. :-)
ReplyDeleteFinntasia x
Creating relishment is what Emmas do best!
DeleteI am loving this. Absolutely brilliant how the change of status is explicit in that one piece of perfectly crafted dialogue: "I'll do this... You'll do that" Go Melissa.
ReplyDeleteCreating perfectly crafted dialogue is what Emmas do best!
DeleteI'll say :)
Delete(Giggles shrilly)
DeleteUnfortunately for all your readers such a small piece.
ReplyDeleteYou keep us really and truly in agony dear Emma.
I loved the rubber gloves part. now only the apron is missing to complete the picture.
Looking forward to Saturday for the continuation.
Monica G
Getting characters to wear rubber gloves is what Emmas do best!
DeleteAs I have said before miss Finn you are a tease leaving your readers wanting more. Well done.
ReplyDeleteRob
Teasing is what Emmas do best!
Deleteand you are a master at it.
Deleterob
(Flashes eyes in alluring manner)
Deletejust a nudge. that's all it takes to knock of boulder off a cliff.
ReplyDeleteYou're not wrong. And as they always say, nudging is what Emmas do best!
DeleteSuch fun as always... I have taken the plunge and bought all your TF stuff on Amazon. Simply terrific! Mike
ReplyDeleteMay I say, you won't regret it!
DeleteFinntasia x
Yay Mike! Good call, that will keep you thoroughly entertained... so compelling, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteYeah. That's great news Mike. Drop me an email to let me know how you get on with that. It looks like taking the plunge is what Mikes do best!
DeleteConstantly creating entertaining stories, that's what a very singular Emma does best!
ReplyDeleteFinntasia x
(Grins)
Delete