CLEANER: Chapter Five - Part Two

MELISSA

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I got off the buss and walked up to Summertop.

Dahlia had obviously changed her mind and seemed more eager than ever to do our switch but this turnabout had left me feeling oddly displaced all evening. I don't know why. Why should it effect me emotionally whatever she planned to do? But it did. I still felt an edgy irritability rather than any kind of delighted expectation. But I'd still come. Dutifully. What else was I going to do?

I let myself in the side door and listened. Nothing.

Dahlia wasn't waiting for me on the way to the cleaning cupboard as she had been on Wednesday. I cleared my throat as though to call out but felt silly doing so. I was sick of these weird mixed signals. Maybe I should try and find a different job that wasn't so crazy...

I was here to clean. That was what I should be getting on with.

I went into the cleaning cupboard and shut the door after me, but the second I did I heard hurried footsteps above me, pattering down the stairs. Seconds later the cleaning cupboard door came open and Dahlia was standing there grinning, her hair out of place, her eyes bright.

"There you are," she said. "I was looking out for you but I popped to the loo and missed you. Do you want to come upstairs?"

I'd just flicked the kettle on but I shrugged and followed her up.

"I went shopping after I called you yesterday," she said, climbing the stairs ahead of me, "and I bought some things that I thought would make it better."

She led me into the bedroom.

The bed was covered. I stopped, staring, as soon as I saw it.

"I bought you several more outfits to wear when you're... when you're... me. They're pretty; look." Dahlia picked up one dress after another and held them diagonally across two arms to display them. They looked like they were my size but they were gorgeous. They must have cost a bomb! It really looked like she was serious.

There were bags of items on the bed as well as some outfits in her size. These weren't quality tailored items. They were very plain and subdued colours and I saw a pinny among them. There were different shoes to match the outfits intended for both of us. It was dizzying: the scale of it. This wasn't something she wanted to do once more to get it out of her system. She'd clearly thrown a lot of thought and cash at this, and the three visible outfits for each of us give this a more extended shelf life for this wacky switch than I'd believed possible, even after she told me so on the phone the day before.

"This'll loo lovely on you," she said. "Put it on."

I did so, climbing into the dress and marvelling at what it did for my figure. And this was without trying it on properly at point of sale. Dahlia clearly had a fantastic eye when it came to judging sizes and fitting. The outfit from Wednesday hadn't been a perfect fit but she'd clearly spotted where it fell short and made adjustments.

It was fun to dress up and she helped me with my make-up again, this time coaching me through the process as I went, teaching me. I was only sorry I wasn't as slim as her.

Dahlia stood back to admire her handiwork and we smiled at one another but her stomach caught my eye and I glanced down. She looked like she'd put on weight round her middle - quite a lot of it. I frowned, glancing up at her face again. She had seen where I was looking and was blushing, but... There was something odd about the stomach. I wasn't sure what. I didn't give it too much thought.

Dahlia gave me the room to stand up and turned back to the bed and the items meant for her. I looked too, shaking my head mildly in disbelief, then she opened a carrier bag and took something out, holding it up and my surprise at the morning's events doubled.

It was a wig. A blond curly-haired wig, and a good quality one. It must have cost a packet. I didn't understand the significance right away, crinkling my nose in query. Then it sunk in and I opened my mouth, said nothing and shut it again.

"I thought it might help us... to pretend," said Dahlia.

Was she serious?

"Try it on," she said.

"Uh... Okay."

Dahlia smiled and came round behind me, turning me to face the mirror. She looked like she had experience with the things. I'd never worn one in my life. She worked it into position at the back of my head then slipped the front into place, fiddling with the dangling locks to position it properly.

I'd never had hair this long in my life and never blond or curly. It made me look completely different. It was uncanny. I didn't look like her - even if that was her intent. Miracles didn't really happen. But it did make me look fabulous - especially with the clothes and make-up. I didn't look like Dahlia but for the first time I did look like I suited the way I was dressed. I was still grossly obese but I looked like a rich woman. I looked like this really was my house.

I smiled at myself and then I smiled at Dahlia.

It was wonderful. I really liked it.