CLEANER: Chapter Seven - Part Three

MELISSA

I turned off my cartoon a few minutes after Dahlia left the room and took my feet down from the pouffe; sat mulling for three or four minutes; got up; sat down again.

Then with a tasty smile curling my lips I walked through to the pool room and headed for the far right corner.

It was a cloudy day but the greenhouse quality of the enormous room made it warm enough still. The swimming pool was still like glass. I wondered if Dahlia was still using it. It almost made me consider...

I gazed down into the pale blue water.

I had the hair. I wasn’t wearing the glasses. I had the clothes and the house. What if I could somehow get the figure too? What if I started exercising?

There was nothing to stop me. I could go swimming or use the treadmill in the gym room round the side of the building. I could work out for an hour or two a day whenever I was here; maybe over time really start to lose the excess weight I had and trim down; really start to look like... like Dahlia.

I shook my head and sneered.

“Stupid cow,” I muttered.

I’d never look like Dahlia, no matter how much weight I lost. She was beautiful. I was ugly. And how much time and effort would it take to get me down to her size? It would be months of intensive training and gruelling diets. I had no illusions about my willpower for that kind of thing. I liked my food far too much. And what would be the point of it anyway? Did I really expect Dahlia to go on wanting to play this stupid game for more than a few more days? A week or two?

No. There was no point starting off down that path. I was obese. I was always going to be obese. I’d reconciled with that a long time ago.

I made myself put it out of mind and went on to the opposite corner, looking through the glass into the garden as I walked.

The pool room pushed out into the expansive garden at the back of the house such that greenery was visible on three of its four sides. Through the right hand wall was the patio and a curved wall of tall box-sculpted hedge that concealed it from any hope the neighbours had of overlooking, distant though they were. There was a pristine lawn and full flowerbeds.

Sure enough, when I reached the furthest right corner of the pool room it opened the view out enough to see the concealed tool shed... and Dahlia.

Except it wasn’t really Dahlia anymore.

From behind she looked like nothing but one of the help, struggling with the long garden tools, shifting them around. With her uniform and brown hair it was like she really was a totally different person. And this was an activity now that she would never have done. Ever. Stooping down, picking out all the individual bits of junk from the floor of the shed, disentangling items and laying them out on the grass.

I gave a little chuckle and it slid right on into a rich giggle. It was just so funny watching this jumped up rich bitch getting a wake-up call to how normal people lived. It didn’t matter that she had always been civil with me. I could read between the lines. I’d been watching her sort all my life. I knew they all looked down on the rest of us plebs. It was a true delight to see the mighty fall so low.

My giggle turned into a laugh, surprising me, and I covered my mouth with my hand. I was afraid Dahlia would hear through the glass, but she didn’t seem to have. And now that it was out I could barely constrain myself. I sniggered through my fingers then the giggles cam again. She was down on her knees now, reaching for rusty old bits of crap at the back of the shed and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. The longer I watched her working out there, the more I laughed. I looked down at my expensive clothes and across at the pool and laughed even louder.

She was such an idiot – wanting to do this. What could possibly have possessed her to crave such a preposterous exchange? But more fool her! I was more than happy to take full advantage of it for as long as I possibly could.

Tears were brimming round my eyes and as I swiped at them it made me laugh even louder. It was so hilarious.

A phone started ringing and I looked in its direction, still chuckling. It was Dahlia’s mobile over on the table.

There was an external door to the pool room. I could have run and grabbed it then run it out to her in the garden, but I didn’t feel like running anywhere. I decided to just leave it but I did saunter over out of curiosity.

The name on screen was Dahlia’s brother’s.

I glanced in the vague direction of the tool shed then picked up up and answered on a whim. “Hello?”

“Dahlia. It’s Steve. How are you?”

Time truncated. My eyes went wide. Surely he didn’t... But he did. He thought I was her.

Flash-thoughts popped and fizzled across my brain pan like a huge firework made up of dozens of little bursts.

Did he really think I was her?

Could I answer? Pretend I really was?

It was only one word that I’d said. I couldn’t possibly fool him with a whole conversation.

Or could I?

Our voices were similar in pitch, even though our accents were different.

What if I tried it?

What if I went along with it and saw how far I could take it?

But what if he realised?

What if he told Dahlia?

What if she got angry and stopped doing these swaps with me?

What if she fired me?

“Dahlia? Are you there? Hello?”

I shouldn’t do it.

I couldn’t hope to pull it off.

Dahlia would definitely find out.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m here.”

My stomach dropped ten feet. My veins tightened. My head felt pinched and clamped.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m... well,” I said, regretting this terribly. My brain felt like it was being electrocuted from the inside out. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m well too. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was wondering...”

I waited, afraid to say anything else.

“Are you free this evening?” he asked. “To come round for a drink?”

I went rigid with panic. What could I say? I couldn’t accept or decline an invitation on Dahlia’s behalf. How could I?

“Dahlia?”

“Uh yes,” I said. “That’ll be... lovely.”

“Oh. Good. That’s great. I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

Oh shit.

I didn’t say anything else. After a long pause, Dahlia’s brother said, “Alright then. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

“Yes,” I replied, just wanting to get off the phone.

“Good. That’s perfect. I’ll see you at eight then Dally.”

He rang off and I sat down, my limbs weak and shaking.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered. “Bloody hell.”

That was amazing!

I grinned and then giggled again, covering my mouth.

I’d loved it! I still felt hypercharged, even now. I wanted to do it again!

But I looked back in the direction of Dahlia and the tool shed and a counterweight of terrible regret came afterwards.

I’d just said I would be there – that she would be there. I couldn’t go obviously. But how was I going to untangle this now? Dahlia was going to be furious when she found out.