CLEANER: Chapter Six - Part Five

DAHLIA

Between the dining room and the front door I ticked off the possible visitors I might have expected in the evening one by one. By the time I reached it, hiding my glasses behind a flowerpot on a shelf to the left of the door, I was down to the most likely culprit and it turned out to be entirely accurate.

“Hello Katherine.

My assistant was leaning on the doorframe, swiping her fingers across the screen of her mobile. She didn’t look up. “Hang on.”

I waited, raising an eyebrow. 

She typed something on the on-screen keyboard. “I’m just correcting the note I made earlier,” she said. “I’d put, Don't care about Dahlia. She isn't worth it and is ungrateful anyway. I’m just correcting it to, Do care about Dahlia. I can’t help it. Even though she’s ungrateful.”

“Come in,” I said, smiling, despite my earlier annoyance at the disturbance. Katherine had the indelible ability to be both frustrating and endearing in such perfectly equal measure that she could basically do what she wanted.

“I did try and stay away Dahlia, honestly. You have to be impressed that I managed to do so for almost twelve hours. Considering your request for me not to come was the equivalent of a twenty foot sign demanding that I race right over.”

“As always, your respect for my wishes as your employer is truly heart-warming,” I said.

She walked through to the kitchen and I followed her. “Hmm,” she said, pausing. “That no good cleaner of yours seems to have upped her game. This room actually looks dust-free for a change.”

“Really?” I grinned proudly.

“Perhaps she’s grown some work ethics. I’ll have to upgrade my opinion of her from criminally bad to lackadaisical and pig-ignorant.”

“She’s not that bad,” I replied. “And... she has got better lately.”

“One tidy room doesn’t equal better dear. For her to do a proper job would require nothing short of a brain transplant in my opinion and sadly that’s not a service they provide on the National Health. Perhaps if we paid for her to go private...”

I smirked. “Cup of tea?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” replied Katherine.

“Good. Make me one while you’re at it.” I walked toward the lounge, smiling to myself.

“I’m not too old that I can slap you around a bit for that kind of impudence you know!” she called after me.

“You do realise I’m the employer and you’re the slave, right?”

“I’ll be slaving this cup of tea right up your jacksie if you aren’t careful young lady.”

I chuckled and waited for her to come through, sitting on the sofa and tucking my feet under my bum. She appeared a minute later with two cups and handed me one but didn’t release it until I’d said, “Thank you.”

“That’s better.”

“So, to what do I owe the high honour of your gracious visit Katherine?” I asked.

“Would you believe that I missed you?”

“You? Missed me? I thought you enjoyed your evenings alone stabbing pins into your voodoo doll of me.”

“Normally yes,” said Katherine, “but I ran out of pins.”

“Well I’m afraid I’m not really in the mood for entertaining,” I replied.

“No. And you don’t seem in the mood for much else. What’s this I hear about your gardener?”

My mouth dropped open. I shut it. “How many spies do you have?”

“Enough.”

“Well... Yes. I got rid of him,” I said.

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Generally.”

I shrugged. “I just decided to. I... don’t need him anymore.”

“So you’re going to do your own gardening?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

Katherine smiled wryly. “You don’t know the first thing about how to garden, you do know that?”

“There won’t be a problem. I can read a book or something.”

“Read a book? Seriously? And then take care of that whole garden by yourself?”

“Yes!” I snapped. “It’ll be fine!”

She stared at me. I stared back at her. I hadn’t meant for it to come out like that but it had been like the lash of a whip. The silence went on and on, the expression of shock and hurt melting into query and then concern.

“What’s wrong Dahlia?” asked Katherine.

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong. Why do people keep asking me that?” I got up.

“Hold on. Don’t get like that. Talk to me.”

“I am talking to you,” I replied sharply.

“Dahlia...”

“I only asked for one thing; to be left alone for a few days. Why is that a problem? Why do people have to keep turning up or ringing me? Why can’t people get the message and keep away – just for a bit?”

Katherine got up too. “Dahlia; slow down. I’m sorry. I don’t mean for you to feel harassed.”

“Well that’s how I feel; exactly,” I snapped. “All I need is a bit of space. How can I explain that so that people understand? How is it not clear? Can you explain to me a better way for me to get that across?” 

Katherine gaped back at me, obviously staggered.

Then I burst into tears. I slumped onto the sofa, my face in my hands, elbows on my knees.

“Dahlia, dear.” Katherine approached me.

“I just want you to leave me alone,” I said. “For a few days. That’s all.”

There was a long silence and then quietly and almost formally, Katherine said, “Alright Dahlia. I can do that. I’m sorry I didn’t stay away when you asked me to.”

Another aching silence crept in.

Then from the lounge doorway I had a jovial man’s voice and both of us looked round in surprise.

“Hey,” said Tommy, my agent. “Door was open. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He was smiling and he had a bottle of wine in his hand tied with a red bow.

“No. I was just leaving,” said Katherine.

She looked at me and then back at him.

My hands were away from my face now but only by an inch or two. I looked after her, wanting to call for her to stay but unable to speak.

“Goodbye Dahlia,” she said. “I’ll... see you soon.”

And then she left Tommy and me alone.