CLEANER: Chapter Five - Part Six

DAHLIA

The earth had stopped revolving for me when I called her Dahlia, but to hear her call me Melissa was such a profoundly affecting moment, it made the world jolt into motion again.

The air practically sizzled between us in the wake of this new threshold. I could see the fire in Melissa's eyes.

There was a compulsion in me to end this silly charade now, before it got out of hand, but I wanted more. This frozen moment made me want much much more.

I drew in breath to go on, caught it, then said, "Where would you like me to clean next Dahlia?"

Flicker of smile. "Er... The study. It's filthy in there."

I nodded, loving this. "Yes miss, of course."

"I haven't used it for months so it will need a lot of work."

"Yes."

"Make sure you do a proper job."

"I'll do my best."

Hesitation, then, "Thank you Melissa."

I smiled broadly and went to withdraw again, thought better of it, then said, "Would you like me to make you up some lunch in an hour or so Dahlia?"

Melissa nodded, smirking. "Yes. That would be nice."

"What would you like?"

Her smile went broader. "Surprise me. Something special."

I nodded. "Yes miss."

I left the room feeling like I'd left the world entirely; like I was sauntering up into the sky. Had there ever been a time when I'd felt like this? Like I had wings at last to carry me up and into the ether? It was only now that I could rise unfettered that I realised how chained to the earth I had been. Bird-like, my emotions flitted up, down, in every direction, and with them the blending of my arousal.

Could I have conceived of being so charged by such an exchange a week ago? If I had, would I have cowered from it or run toward this feeling with open arms?

But there was no time for introspection. My boss had given me my instructions. I had a study to clean.

I hurried through to assess the work that needed doing. It was a large room with an old desk that had belonged to my father and shelves full of books I'd never read. The windows were big but didn't let an excess of light in due to the proximity of two big fir trees. There was a computer in there I never used and a filing cabinet that was all but empty. Melissa was right about it being neglected. There was dust everywhere.

I decided to vacuum first. I went and fetched it from the cleaning cupboard, eyeing the kettle for a moment and remembering my thirst. I was so caught up in my character, I imagined being reprimanded for shirking if I stopped. I'd been given a direct order.

Shiver of titilation.

No. I'd better keep working, I  thought. I don't want to get into trouble.

I started vacuuming quickly, almost carelessly quickly in my urgency to get the job done before I received my imagined reprimand, but presently my heart rate settled and I let myself slow down. I worked the Hoover back and forward, pausing to move small items of furniture to give me better access. It really was filthy in there. The "previous" cleaner had really let the place go. It felt nice to be doing a better, more fastidious job than her.

There was a good deal of dust under the desk. I used the alternative end for the vacuum, switching to the long rod and fan attachment. That was better. I craned down, peering into the shadowy cave beneath to see where I'd covered.

It wasn't good enough - up to the standard I felt I should maintain. If I was going to be a cleaner then I wanted to be an efficient one with high standards of excellence. That was... important to me.

I hiked my dress up a little and got down on my knees, struggled to pull the vacuum into position and then reached under, using one arm as the third limb of a tripod. The glasses made it difficult. My Vision was so blurred that seeing high contrast was one thing. Looking into the subtley differing shades beneath the desk was almost impossible - especially with any hope of accuracy.

I sighed and reached for the glasses to take them off. I got as far as closing my fingers round the outside of the frames before I halted, conflicted. I wished...

I wished  my eyesight suited them. I wished it was bad enough for me to need to wear them, to be able to see correctly through them.

My eyes glazed. Inside my mouth, my tongue shifted as my salivary glands gently fizzed.

To take them off and feel my vision swim into rain-drenched blur. To put the weighty plastic and glass back to rest on the bridge of my nose and my ears and see my eyesight return with clarity.

It was frustrating.

Maybe I should... Maybe I could get myself a new pair, different from these; that I could see through. But that seemed against the point.

I sighed, unsure; hung my head; decided to go on as I was for now; do my best to get it done well.

I picked the vacuum nozzle back up and returned to work. I tried to do it methodically, working in neat rows like I was mowing a big lawn. That was better. But I could barely make out anything in the grey blur and my thoughts tinkered on, imagining how I could do this better; become more like the real Melissa.