CLEANER: Chapter Five - Part One

Resolution

DAHLIA 

I got up early, excited and had a shower. It felt like Christmas morning.

When I was drying myself I paused to examine my reflection, skimming my fingers down my tummy and up the backs of my arms. Had I put on weight? I couldn't be sure. Not noticeably. And what was that quiver inside me - what emotional bump had that been? Disappointment?

I didn't want to be fat. That would be awful. But I did wish I could have something like a magic mirror with a nob on the side so that when I turned the nod I got fatter or thinner. I didn't know why, but the idea of being fatter, just for a while, seemed so magical.

"I wouldn't want to be like that all my life though."

Nevertheless, with my little swap in mind, it was a little disappointing to still be as slim as had always been.

However it didn't matter. I had a plan to counter that.

I went back to my bedroom and took out a black swimming costume from my drawers along with some towels and some tops. I stripped and put it on up to the waist, then I carefully inserted a folded up towel down the front so that it bulked out my tummy. It was fairly subtle but it definitely made me look fatter.

Running my hands round it made me smile.

I reached for another towel, planning to insert it in the back to make my bum look bigger, the tops were going to bulk out the size of my breasts. But I thought about Melissa and my cheeks coloured, even though I was alone. She couldn't help being as fat as she was. How would see feel if she turned up and I was prancing about making myself look fatter?

I eyed the other items and decided to cut my losses there. It was enough to make me look a bit thicker round the middle and certainly enough to make me feel fatter. It would have to do for now.

I pulled the straps of the costume up over my shoulders and went back to the mirror, rubbing my new distended belly with a warm feeling of contentment. I put on a robe over the top, enjoying the difference I could see. Would Melissa notice? It wasn't glaring. Maybe she would; maybe she wouldn't. I secretly wanted her to though; I don't know quite why.

Carefully, I got my other purchases ready, laying them on the bed, nervous as to Melissa's reaction when she saw them, but telling myself it didn't matter. I was doing what I wanted to do. She was going to be laid to lounge around. She didn't have anything to complain about.

I wished she would hurry up. I couldn't wait to get started, but there was still half an hour to go before she was due. I wondered if I should have offered to pick her up... But that was silly. I could wait half an hour.

One thing I wanted to avoid at any cost was being interrupted again. I was taking this further than before and someone arriving unexpectedly was the last thing I needed.  My brother was unlikely to call again so soon after last time and Tommy always rang ahead. I didn't see much of anyone else. I hadn't cultivated any real friends since moving back to Nockton Vale. Katherine, my assistant, was the only risk of an unexpected visit. I decided to head her off at the pass.

I found my phone and dialled her number.

"Good morning Dahlia," she said. "I didn't think it was possible for you to get up before eleven. There must be something very wrong."

"Not at all," I said. "I was just calling to say not to bother calling round for a while."

"Are you alright?"

"Of course. I'm just trying a new series of meditation techniques and want to keep interruptions down to a minimum. Do you mind?"

"No... No, I don't mind. Why would I? I've got better things to do with myself than wait on you hand and foot anyway."

I laughed. "I'm glad to know that your sense of humour is still intact."

"I need a finely-honed sense of humour working for you dear."

I smiled; then I considered my brother's visit and my face clouded. "Katherine... Have you spoken to my brother recently?"

The hesitation on the other end of the line said it all before she spoke. "Possibly."

"We'll do me a favour and don't. He's controlling enough already without hearing your potted theories to encourage him."

"We'll pardon me for my concern," replied Katherine. "I'm making a note right now to care less from now on."

"You don't have to be like--"

"Hang on. I'm still writing... Don't care about Dahlia. She isn't worth it and is ungrateful anyway."

"Har har. Very funny."

"Well how would you cope without me here to amuse you?"

"I think I'd find some way to manage," I replied. "Anyway, so you've got the message about not popping round...?"

"Indeed; and I feel neither offended nor suspicious."

"Good," I said, "because you shouldn't."

"Be what?" asked Katherine. "Offended or suspicious?"

"Either. I just need some time for myself; that's all."

"Alright dear. You don't have to tell me twice. Shall I cancel that useless cleaner of yours as well?"

"No." I caught my own emphasis on my lips. "No thank you Katherine. No. She doesn't bother me."

"But I do."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm sure I don't dear, but do not fret. The message has been received loud and clear. No impromptu visits."

"Thank you," I replied. "Just for a little while."

LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Five - Part Four

At last, the correct version of this chapter... Sorry for posting the wrong one before. I don't know where my head's been at lately!

Hattie caught Mavis and Richard as they approached the stairs. 

"Er... Ann. Can I have a word? " 

They stopped and looked back at her as she came to a stop. There was something playful in Mavis's expression that looked incongruous on Ann's face. Mavis didn't like it at all, especially considering what the girl had said over breakfast. Lord Hurley wore his usual scowl of superior disinterest. He was attractive enough and certainly rich, but Hattie didn't really see why her sister would want to make a life with him. 

"What is it?" asked Mavis. She made no move to break away, instead hooking her hand through the hoop of Richard's arm. 

Hattie fumed. "I'm sorry Richard, but you don't mind if I have a private word with my sister do you?" 

"I have no secrets from my fience Hattie," said Mavis, smirking. "You can speak as free as ye like." 

Richard raised his eyebrows in mild curiosity at the attempted secrecy. He wouldn't have cared at all if there hadn't been a hint of it. 

"I wouldn't want to keep you from your packing dear," said Hattie, touching his arm, and when she saw he still showed no signs of going she lent in closer and whispered, "and it concerns subjects gentlemen might do better to avoid... if you catch my meaning." 

Richard's face went from pale to apple red in less time than it took Hattie to stand back straight and he spluttered, pulling immediately free from his apparent fiencee. "Er, right. Good. Well, I'll leave you two ladies to your discussion then. Er, right. Yes." He made an attempt to catch hold of his dignity; failed; tried again and this time succeeded. He gave a curt little nod, his tight-lipped smile and then withdrew. 

Hattie glared at Mavis. Mavis looked brazenly back at her and gave a whisper of a shrug as if to say, Well, what the hell? It was worth a try. 

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" demanded Hattie. 

"Playing the part. What does it look like?" replied Mavis. "I'm Lady Ann." 

"No you ruddy well aren't," snapped Hattie, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the drawing room doorway with a watchful glance to see if they could be overheard. "You're nothing but a common girl playing dress-up. I'll thank you to remember who is in charge here." 

"I ain't forgotten. I'm just enjoying myself while I've got the chance." 

"What do you think you're doing, encouraging Lord Hurley to take you away from here? I didn't say you could do that, did I?" 

Mavis opened  her hands in a wide shrug. "Where's the 'arm?" 

"What?" 

"Well think on it. You wanted to teach your sister a lesson, right? Right now she's perfectly safe stuck in my body but I can tell you that she ain't been living my life. She'll've been up rogering Burt all night if I'm not wrong, which it ain't." 

"How could you possibly know that?" 

Mavis smirked. "You got eyes on ye. You ain't dim. You have seen Burt and you're a woman. Don't tell me you haven't imagined being with 'im yerself." 

Hattie blushed and cleared her throat, thinking back to the night on Griply Mount when Burt had propositioned her and how close she'd come to letting him have his wicked way with her. "I don't know what you mean." 

Mavis gave a ragged chuckle. "Of course you do. But what I'm saying is that you wanted to teach er a lesson and so far all she's ad is the best bits. Think about it." Mavis stepped closer. "If I stayed this way for a while longer; say a week in that town Nockton, while she's stuck ere, she'll have to just go on and live my life. One week - that's all it would be - and in that time she'd learn a lesson she'd never forget." 

Hattie stared at her flashing eyes, her grinning mouth, and she allowed herself the pleasure of measuring that out in her mind; playing the scenario through: her sister stuck in the life of a peasant barmaid; forced to tend bar and possibly even service the men of the village. 

How delightful would that be in its terrible beauty? 

"It would be perfectly safe," said Mavis. "She lives my life here while I go to Nockton with Lord Hurley. In a week's time I return and we swap back. And it would be nice for me; I won't deny that. It would be... a holiday." 

Hattie stepped back and regarded Mavis thoughtfully. It was remarkable how like the real Ann she was already in her poise and manner. She would be able to pull off the charade perfectly well, Hattie was sure of it. And the real Ann, if that even was the original Ann... What of her? She would certainly get her just desserts. 

Mavis smirked, seeing the mental cogs turning. "What do you think then?" she asked. "Do you want to really teach her a lesson? Or would you prefer to let her have every advantage?" 

Hattie came to a decision. "Alright then. Yes. I agree. One week and no more." She raised her finger. "No more, do you understand?" 

"Of course," replied Macis. "I'll have had more than enough fun from it by then. And don't worry." She smiled sweetly. "You can trust me." 

They shook hands and with another little smirk, Mavis started up the stairs, leaving Hattie to her thoughts. 

The strumpet was right. It was more than a shame to cut Ann's penance short just as it was starting. Where was the fun in that. 

And it got her to thinking about the other ideas she had started to formulate. Her initial ideas had been quite transitory and brief, but perhaps she should give some thought to raising the stakes there too. She was tired of being a second class citizen in her own family. It was long last time she taught all of them a lesson that they would never... ever... forget.

CLEANER: Chapter Four - Part Nine

MELISSA

Cash Exchange billed itself on the outside as something modern and gaudy but on the inside it was just as shabby as everything else in Barton.

The aisles inside were too narrow. The vacant people milling around inside, looking for bargains couldn’t easily move past one another. It led to awkward bottle necks that were even harder to navigate considering my girth. I passed one elderly man who looked like his soul had been literally torn out of his chest leaving only shreds behind to animate his emaciated greyish flesh. He wore an expression of mild revulsion when he let me go first but even then we had to squeeze past one another. He recoiled from me like I was a freak, desperate not to touch me. It made me sick.

When I got to the counter I waited in line behind the young mother and child in front. The child had dirty clothes, ripped in several places. Its mother wore a wrinkled dress, mottled with over-wear, that barely concealed anything of her reed-thin legs. She was trading in three mobile phones. She made no mention of where she’d got them and the man stationed there didn’t ask. She looked like she slept rough and the phones looked brand new.

Though who was I to judge? I was about to sell something stolen myself.

I took a moment to examine my heart in regard to that, curious if I’d find any guilt, but there wasn’t any really. I didn’t see why I should feel guilty. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have a lot of money. I didn’t choose the life I led and I worked bloody hard for the scraps I did live on. People like Dahlia Western and the Stanwicks only got their wealth by happenstance. They didn’t deserve it any more than I did. They could share it from time to time.

And it was only an old ring that was gathering dust. It was a flipping waste when people were starving in the world.

I gave it to the man on the counter when I reached the front. He gave it a look over then scrutinised me oddly, examining my face and chest; my shoulders, my hair. I thought initially that he thought I’d stolen it but it wasn’t that kind of look. He made me an offer that was twenty pounds lower than I’d hoped for but I shrugged inwardly and took it. It was money for old rope as far as I was concerned and he’d sell it on to someone who might actually find a use for it. I was effectively doing a good deed.

My mobile started ringing as I left the shop. I frowned when I saw Dahlia Western’s name on the screen. I think she’d only ever rung me once and that was to ask me to do some extra cleaning after a big party. I only kept the money in case I had to call in sick and I tended to work then anyway. I hadn’t had a sick day off for four years or more.

I accepted the call and gave a very guarded, “Hello?”

“Melissa. It’s me. Dahlia.”

“Uh, hi. Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got some new ideas for our swap tomorrow.”

“Huh?” I didn’t believe I was hearing this after the crap she’d pulled yesterday.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it and... Well, it’s so much fun, I’d like to do it again. And more often. Maybe every time you come over.”

I had no idea what to say. I’d decided to encourage her every chance I got but this was so unexpected I couldn’t tell the best way to manage it. Should I sound reluctant or well up for it?

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about it though. We don’t need to.”

“No,” I said. “I’d like to.”

There was a silence. I worried that willingness might paradoxically knock the wind from her sails.

“Great” she said finally. “That’s wonderful.”

Awkward pause.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

“Okay.”

“And Melissa...?”

“Yes?”

“Do you own a spare pair of glasses?”

CLEANER: Chapter Four - Part Eight

I joined the main road at the bottom that ran along the river.

It crossed just beyond the outskirts of town – that was the quickest way into Nockton – but there was another route: a smaller bridge down a side lane directly into Barton. I’d never been that way before myself though I'd heard it was possible to work your way through. I'd also heard it was practically impossible to do so. But it was Barton that I wanted to go to this time and I had an urgent imperative to get there quickly before the shops shut.

Shrugging my shoulders, I took the turnoff and went over the single lane bridge.

I didn’t know the names of the different suburbs of Barton, nor did I want to. It was a dismal place with very old and decrepit buildings. The roads weren’t wide and they turned frequently, sometimes so tightly, I wasn’t sure my car would make it without a scratch. After twenty minutes I was wishing I'd driven round but I persevered, especially after I passed an open green with two big blocks of flats. I'd seen them somewhere in the middle of Barton from the top of my garden so I was on the right track.

Eventually I found my way to the open air car park behind Barton’s shopping precinct. I parked up then checked the address of the shop I was after on my phone, brining up a map. I kicked myself that I hadn’t used the sat-nav option to find my way but it was playing up. Although it brought up the map of Barton it couldn’t seem to place my location on it. It didn’t matter.

When I got to the high street I asked someone to point to where I was on the map then started threading my way through. I only thought shallowly about where I was going and why but I was growing increasingly excited. On the other hand I was developing a real headache now and a pinching sensation that felt like stress. I ignored it, walking on.

I didn’t like Barton. The people weren’t my sort at all and it was terribly shabby. I resolved to avoid it in future, but not before I got what I came for.

When I saw the shop I grinned. It was quite a big place but well off the main thoroughfare. It looked like two small units knocked through into one.

Barton Workwear. I hesitated outside, thinking of my brother. My headache went up a notch. I fidgeted, rocking from one foot to the other. Then I pushed open the door and went in.

It was laid out like any clothes shop but on every stand were different clothes for working in. They had items for waiters and waitresses, nurses and doctors. They had overalls and hard hats. They had steel toe-capped boots. I moved between the stands, looking for what I wanted then stopped when I saw it.

There was a whole area for cleaner-related items. It was a wonderland of different possibilities. They even had maid outfits; some of them a little oversexed; but that wasn’t what I was looking for.

I looked at everything, touching the items I was drawn to with eager fingers. They had dresses designed for versatility and to be hardwearing. They had aprons and tabards. It was all so dizzying but the shopkeeper was looking my way. It made me feel uncomfortable; rushed. I didn’t know what to choose and the crushing sense that this was a terrible idea was threatening to close back in.

I got a hold of myself; calmed my breathing; closed my eyes; reminded myself who was in charge. I didn’t have to feel guilty about this. I didn’t have to question myself. I never had to do that. I had the right to do anything I damn well pleased as long as it didn’t hurt anybody, and I wanted to do this. I didn’t know why but I felt desperate to do it.

Opening my eyes, I forced the jitteriness down and behind me. I pointed my thoughts. I gave myself the permission I needed to do this.

This had been the problem all along. I had this crazy desire but every second of the way I was battering against my own reluctance.

Well I was sick of that. I wasn’t going to feel ashamed. Right now this was what I wanted to do. I would be damned if I was going to go on questioning myself. If I wanted to do it all day every day then I bloody would!

The shopkeeper was watching me. When he saw I had noticed he gave me a wise man’s smile, crinkling his eyes into black pits, and he said, “You look like you’ve come to a decision.”

“Too right I have,” I said.