CLEANER: Chapter Seven - Part Two

DAHLIA

Melissa went downstairs but I tarried in front of the mirror, looking at myself first front on and then rotating forty five degrees to the left; to the right.

The glasses were perfect. They distorted my vision but it was possible to see through them without too much trouble at all.

I looked so authentic now as a cleaner. The drab clothes I’d sported before hadn’t come close to creating the right impression because I didn’t have Melissa’s obesity. With that she looked like a working woman in a way I couldn’t with my slender limbs and hourglass figure.

I looked so perfect in the cleaner’s uniform, so unlike myself. I wished I could see myself from behind. There would have been no clue from that angle who I really was.

Who I really was...

It would be so great to actually become another person for a while in reality. Just imagine having ID with another woman’s name on it and another woman’s face that shone back at me from the mirror. Imagine living in her house; sleeping with her husband. Imagine talking with her voice; having only her clothes to wear; only her belongings. Imagine living in her house with no choice but to go to her job to pay the bills.

Picturing these things lit me up inside. It brought on the same rosy glow that a glass of good liqueur did.

What if I went out dressed like I was? After Melissa had gone home? What if I went into town looking like this? What if I interacted with shop keepers dressed like an ordinary woman and really pretended this was the real me?

The idea of that was too perfectly delicious; even if I knew I could never really do it.

Oh to have enough bravery to do that!

I went downstairs, smiling contentedly.

My breakfast things were still on the table on the veranda. I set to work dutifully cleaning them up. I’d really had the works with Choco-Hoops cereal, a couple of croissants, a full English breakfast (bacon, beans, sausage, hash browns, fried eggs, French toast) then toast and marmalade for afters. It had taken me a long time to get through but had been singularly enjoyable.

The enjoyment of food was quickly becoming an addiction to me. I’d gone for decades being strict with myself. The dam was gone now. I wanted to experience it all!

I had a hankering for some Kentucky Fried Chicken. That would be nice. I never ate it but I’d had some once on a birthday outing when I turned seventeen. I remembered feeling terribly guilty but thinking the taste was divine.

Maybe I could pop and get some later...

I took the breakfast things inside then went back out and found the gardening tool shed.  It was concealed behind some tall shrubs and very messy inside. I tutted myself, wondering whether to take out the broom as I'd planned and sweep the patio or start with giving it a thorough tidy.

I decided to do both; one after the other.

To get going I removed all the tools one by one, lying them flat on the grass. Many of them were tangled up and it was hard work. I quickly built up a sweat. Behind all the stacked tools there was a lot of clutter and mess; old rusty items that hadn’t seen use in years. I realised quickly that this was going to take a lot longer than I’d originally planned, especially considering I had work to do inside the house.

I faltered, umming and ahhing, then I gave a sly look toward the house.

A dirty idea crept into my mind the tugged with it a deep shadow of sizzling stimulation.

What if I asked Melissa’s— Dahlia’s advice? It was... her house after all.

I was just the cleaner.

It wasn’t my place to make such a decision.

I let the idea go on sizzling for a while, then I sauntered inside, leaving the tools out on the lawn.

Melissa was watching TV with her feet up on the pouffe, a Saturday morning cartoon. She looked like she was thoroughly enjoying it, and why wouldn’t she be? She was getting paid to sit there.

“Excuse me Miss Western,” I said, the same associated nervousness returning that I’d felt when assuming the complete role as I'd felt the day before.

She looked slightly annoyed when she looked round and raised her eyebrows but there was s shimmer of smile on her lips.

“I just thought... I’d better check with you,” I said. “Would you... prefer me to clean out the tool shed? Or do the bedroom?”

She smiled mirthfully and then quickly straightened her lips, frowning in mock disapproval, willingly joining the game. “Hmmm,” she said, really playing up the part. “Why can’t the gardener do the shed?”

“I... You dismissed him yesterday,” I replied. “You thought... I would be better suited to do the work out there.”

Melissa giggled, trying to keep a straight face. “Ah yes. I remember now. You’re more than capable of doing both jobs.”

“Thank you miss,” I said. “So...?”

“Get the shed done first. The bedroom can wait. But see that you do it as soon as possible. I don’t see why I should have to keep the place tidy if I have you. You don’t have a dog and bark yourself.”

“No miss,” I said, bobbing my head. “I’ll get to work right away.”