CLEANER: Chapter Seven - Part Eight

DAHLIA

I left the study, taking Melissa's phone with me to give her back, then paused and looked back; narrowed my eyes; walked back in.

I went to my little alphabetised phone number book and thumbed through it until I found the number I was after. I checked my watch and dialled the number.

Meadow Hall was a day centre for children that I'd made donations to several times. I'd spoken to the lady who ran it several times but never met her, despite a couple of appointments that didn't pan out because of conflicting arrangements.

Mary Tumblebuck answered cheerfully and perked up even more when I told her who I was.

"Ah yes, Miss Western, it's a pleasure to hear from you. How have you been? We're still very grateful for your contributions. The centre is thriving. Our numbers are up and we're working toward building a new extension to house improved art facilities; somewhere with better natural lighting than the hall we use at the moment."

"Oh. That sounds wonderful," I said. "I must write you another cheque."

"That'd be lovely. Thank you."

"Not at all. There isn't much point having money if I keep it all to myself. Which is sort of why I was ringing."

"Oh?"

"I don't know if you remember but we were chatting on the phone the last time we were in touch and I mentioned about my pool."

There was a pause while she threw her mind back. "Oh yes. Yes, I remember. Didn't you say you have a big conservatory with one in?"

"That's right,"

I said nothing else for a while, my momentum stumbling over its own feet, but the gap stretched into uncomfortable territory and I knew she was going to speak at any moment, question why I was calling. The urge that had made me call her seemed absolutely absurd now she was speaking to me. I couldn't possibly go through with it. Why had I even called? I was going mad.

"Miss Western? Are you still there?"

"Yes. I'm here. Sorry."

It was ridiculous.

But I said it anyway.

"When we were chatting I mentioned that it might be nice for the children to come here and use my pool and garden," I said. "I just thought I'd call you and make the offer properly. And set a date."

I held my breath, imagining the mess they would make that would need cleaning, and more... I imagined being swapped with Melissa when they came; about playing the part in front of all of them.

I knew it was insane but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to put it in place - set it in stone so that I couldn't back out. It didn’t matter how stupid it was or how much I might regret it. I just needed to act.

Half a second later I was starting to think she would think it was a terrible idea, but Mary surprised me by saying, “That’s a fabulous idea. Thank you. The kids will love it.”

“Oh great!”

“When were you thinking would be convenient?”

I managed to shut my lips on saying “Today.” Instead I said, “Well why not as soon as possible? Shall we say Monday?”

She was obviously taken aback. “Uh, this Monday coming?”

“Sure,” I replied. “Why not? If that’s okay with you.”

She thought about it then said, “Okay. Why not indeed? That would be fab. It won’t be too much trouble to switch things around and there’s plenty of time left to ask the parents to send them with swimming gear on Monday.”

We hashed out the rest of the details – where the kids could get changed; times and such – then thanking me profusely, especially when I confirmed I'd be giving her another donation, Mary rang off.

My whole body was shaking when I set the phone down but I felt like I was about to explode in expectation and excitement.

Regret came instantly but I pushed it back. I’d already decided to just go for it and stop questioning myself. It couldn’t hurt. What could go wrong?

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

Had I really set that up? Was I really going to go through with pretending to be Melissa in front of all those people when they came?

I narrowed my eyes and narrowed to myself.

Yes I bloody well was.

I hurried to the door to go and tell Melissa. Did she say she was going to get changed? I was disappointed. I wanted it to go on. I was fired up. I wanted more and I wanted it now.

In fact...

I fingered the end of my brown bobbed hair.

Another wicked whimsical desire had come to me; this one far more preposterous but equally enticing.

My upper brain tried to reject it instantly but my lower brain took hold of it, refusing to let go.

I couldn’t do it. Of course I couldn’t.

But I hadn’t thought I could make phone calls pretending to Melissa. I hadn’t thought I could call Meadow Hall.

I could do this. I knew I could. If I really wanted to.

And I did want to.

I wanted to wait until Melissa had gone home and then I wanted to get into the car. Dressed as I was.

I wanted to drive down into Barton and get out and walk round the shops, pretending I really was this cleaner that I looked like.