CLEANER: Chapter Three - Part Eight

DAHLIA

I strode out to the back of the hotel, feeling determined, but when I reached the outside, I paused, trying to orient myself and spot Melissa.

Every table and sun lounger was filled and children were playing in the huge swimming pool. There were palm trees everywhere and a fancy bar giving away unlimited free drinks to residents.

People looked my way and I felt an uncharacteristic diminishing under their stares. I had been confident all my life but that confidence had been built on things that weren’t quite as present now as they had been. I was conscious of the weight I had put on and the new dowdy haircut I had; the glasses I was wearing. These people were all very, very wealthy and I must have looked a sight in my well-worn clothes. It just knocked the wind from my sails enough to tip me off the charge of righteousness I was on.

I saw Melissa at the other side of the pool on a recliner, a book out., and headed toward her, feeling increasingly self-conscious as I was watched by dozens of lazy eyes, well aware that I wasn’t really meant to be here as I wasn’t a guest.

Melissa was wearing a large round pair of sunglasses. She looked pretty good, despite her weight. I approached her, expecting her to see me, but she didn’t look my way. I stopped beside her lounger. Still she didn’t look up. She just went on reading.

I cleared my throat. “Melissa?”

She didn’t answer.

“Melissa. Can I have a word?”

Still she didn’t look up, though she must have heard me.

Then the penny dropped and my cheeks coloured as I tried the word, “Dahlia?”

She lowered her book and gave me a short smile. “Ah Melissa. Hello. You’re late.”

That threw me off-guard. “Er, sorry. I... had to work.”

Melissa smiled. “Well I suppose that’s understandable. You shouldn’t shirk your duties; not with your income. You’d be in trouble if you lost your job.”

I got a flutter at the game she was still playing that almost tempted me to go on with it, but I wasn’t happy with the rules she’d put in place. I needed to assert control again.

“Er, look, er... Dahlia,” I said, feeling nervous that I was going to pull out of this so soon. “I’ve been thinking and, uh, I’m not really happy having to work as a cleaner and live in that crappy hotel. I’d rather we, uh, changed things about a bit.”

She regarded me without any change in her expression. I couldn’t see her eyes through the dark lenses. She said nothing and eventually I felt the need to fill the gap.

“It’s been, uh, really interesting swapping place and everything, but I think we should talk about doing things differently; maybe swapping back. Or staying who we are now but both living here. I don’t want to be stuck being a cleaner anymore, you know?”

Melissa still said nothing but her face tightened, her lips narrowing.

I was conscious of the other people nearby. I couldn’t raise my voice very high. It was frustrating that she wasn’t engaging in what I was saying but my emotions were clashing. I was feeling increasingly ill-at-ease and... submissive to her almost. It was weird but everyone here was lying comfortably except me. She looked like a queen and she was acting like one too. My timid, hunched, standing posture made me feel more like a servant, coming to request a favour. It made me feel as though I'd crossed a line of rudeness; that me requesting anything of her was inappropriate now.

“I know we agreed that you would, er, you know, make the decisions from now on,” I said, “but being a full-time cleaner; not having any choice in the matter; that wasn’t really what I wanted.”

She said nothing.

“I’d rather not have to do it.”

There was a long pause. Melissa didn’t fill it. I could feel her disappointment and disapproval and my face coloured scarlet. I felt embarrassed suddenly that I was thinking of giving up so quickly, because of course I knew deep down that this life she’d constructed for me was exactly what I’d fantasised about. I had wanted to be an ordinary person; to be in a position where I had to work; to have a normal person’s routine and responsibilities; to not have the get-out-of-jail-free card that was my wealth. She was right to be disappointed in me. I was disappointed in myself. But I still didn’t want to go back to that awful place.

“I suppose I could stay there for a little while longer,” I said, “but I want to cut it short. I don’t want it to be long.”

She looked at me for several long moments, then finally she said, “I understand how you feel Melissa. Cleaning is tough work and doing it full time can be crippling. It can’t be doing your self-esteem much good either, knowing how low you are in social standing. But you and I made an agreement. And though we didn’t discuss it directly, I would say that implicit in that agreement was the idea that we both needed to be strong for each other; to help one another stay on task.” She set her book down. “It isn’t all about you. Don’t forget that you promised to help me to lose weight. This is my big chance and it wouldn’t be fair for you to pull out now.”

I lowered my head, feeling bad that I hadn’t considered the impact this tirade of mine would have on her. She was right. It was selfish of me to try and call it all off.

“Being a cleaner is hard work,” said Melissa, “and you’re bound to question your decision from time to time; but when you made that decision it was definitely what you wanted. Even if you’ve lost your nerve now, I don’t think you should give up. The first day is always going to be the hardest. I think you should go back and give it another go; really put your heart into it; really live the dream you had.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. She was right. It did feel like I was giving up. And she was so much stronger. She had already come so far.

“Obviously you can come away from there at any time if you really want to,” said Melissa. “We can even swap places again if that’s what you want. But... BUT... You gave me control of your finances. You gave me the responsibility to be Dahlia; to be your boss. With that in mind, unless it’s a life and death problem, I’m not going to let you give up the cleaning, or come to stay here, or stop being Melissa. You’re going to go back to your little hotel tonight and you’re going to carry on with your job tomorrow; and the next day. And the next day. You’re going to go on working because you can’t afford not to. Is that clear?”

I looked back at her, my nether regions sizzling, my lips moist. I nodded.

“You’re Melissa now. I’m Dahlia. You have no right to question my decisions. Is that clear?” She gave me a little reassuring smile.

I nodded. “Yes miss.”

It was awful and horrifying in its way but it was also captivating and very, very erotic. It was all so clear suddenly. In amongst the thud of reality that I’d fallen into, that titillation had gotten temporarily lost. Melissa... Dahlia had helped me find it again with incredible flair. She did this so well. She should have been born to the life she was slipping into. She would have made a great Dahlia – though perhaps a rather darker one.

“I want you to be happy Melissa,” she said. “I really do. But I don’t want to hear anymore talk about you giving up your job. If you do that then I won’t help you out financially. You’ll have to end up getting something else – possibly something much worse – or else you’ll starve. Do you understand me?”

I smiled. I knew she was only encouraging me; playing along with our game; that she would give me my money back if I asked her; but it was hellishly exciting to think she was really leaving me trapped in the life I’d foolishly accepted. “Okay Dahlia,” I said. “I’ll go back and work hard. I’m sorry I questioned you.”

She nodded, smiling more broadly. “Good girl.”

There was another silence and I realised that I ought to leave. I didn’t fit in here and I didn’t feel comfortable around her anymore, as though she really was my employer; as though she was on a level above me.

“Right. Well, I’d better go,” I said. “I have to help at the evening meal.”

“Wait,” said Melissa. “Before you go I want to go through some things with you.” She sat up and put her feet on the floor, about to stand. I stepped back, curious.

“You’ve done well putting the first phase of this into place and I’m glad you accept now that my authority is final; but I want to go inside and talk to you about phase two. What we’ve done so far is only the beginning. There’s a long way to go and I want to make sure we move quickly.”