The advert read:
Maid wanted. Normal household chores, including cooking. Must be able to work under pressure, to follow orders exactly and without question. To apply, phone Jake 444...
Well, I'd phoned, answered a few curt questions and was told to come to this address. I was standing, looking at the imposing entranceway now. Am I doing the right thing? I couldn't for the life of me believe I was really standing here. I shook my head to clear it. I needed the income. I had to get this job. Lifting my head, I walked resignedly forward and knocked on the door. Seconds later it opened.
I was ushered inside by a butler and guided to a room, lined floor to ceiling with books. It smelt pungently of leather and woodfire smoke. A red brick chimney dominated one end of the room. A writing desk stood alone at the opposite end. Several scattered comfortable-looking armchairs made it seem an inviting place to relax with a book.
The butler took my coat and umbrella. The latter had blown inside out at the first breeze, thereby rendering itself completely useless.
"The Master will be with you presently." He left me to wait alone. I sat in an armchair, relaxed right back and breathed deeply.
"Do you generally fall asleep while waiting to be interviewed for a job?" I jumped and my eyes flew open, an apology on my lips which I didn't get a chance to say.
"Stand up!" he barked angrily. I stood, completely taken aback at his tone and manner.
"Well, you're obedient so far, that's promising," he muttered. I was too shocked to say or do anything. I stood still, open mouthed and stared at him. His eyes wandered from my toes right up my body until they met my eyes. I don't think he liked what he read there. Judging by the look on his face I had the distinct impression he seemed to think I was lower than low. I lifted my chin a little and stared directly back. Was that a hint of a smile? It was gone before I could be sure.
Suddenly I felt deflated. Tired from the long walk to this house. Tired from looking after 2 kids and an out of work, depressed husband. Tired of being judged without chance. My shoulders slumped and my eyes fell to the rich red, carpeted floor.
He walked around me. Very slowly. Those damn eyes taking every mud splatter on my stockings, every crease on my skirt. I silently wished him to hell and back. I lifted my chin. "Sorry for wasting your time, but I've decided I don't want to apply for the job after all." Bet that wiped the smug look off his face. Pity he was standing behind me when I said it. I would have enjoyed seeing his expression.
The hairs on the back of my neck tingled as his warm breath lightly brushed across them. "You're not wasting my time, dear. Actually, I'm not working this afternoon."
Wishing to hell I was back outside getting soaked in the rain, I risked another angry retort and turned to face him. "OK," I said. "Shall we carry on with the interview? Do you have anything you'd like to ask me?" Uh oh... I could tell I shouldn't have turned around and spoken to him. He controlled the rising anger, took hold of my hand and led me out of the room.
"Where are we going?" I was running to keep up with his long, fast paces.
"We'll conduct this interview upstairs where we won't be interrupted." He walked quickly and decisively, dragging me behind him.
"I don't think I'd like to go upstairs with you, thanks all the same." I tried pulling my hand out of his, but as he was obviously stronger, my attempt was useless. There was no escape. He didn't speak again. We went up the stairs, down a long hallway with half a dozen doors leading off, and into a room at the end. He let go of my hand and I swung around angrily to face him. I was breathing heavily. His eyes dropped to my chest. I tried to cover myself by crossing my arms. "What do you mean by dragging me into this bedroom?" I was furious with him.
"I want to talk to you without being overheard by the servants." He had the audacity to grin in the face of my anger.
"Let me out of here!" I demanded, pushing my way past him to the door. I turned the handle but it wouldn't open. He'd locked it! Swinging back around, I discovered he'd sat himself down and made himself comfortable in the only armchair in the room. "What is it you want from me?" I asked. "Why have you locked us in here?" My chest was heaving as I angrily demanded answers from him.
"Sit down! Sit down and calm down."
Confused and scared I simply did as he said. I sat on the only other piece of furniture in the room, the edge of the bed. I waited for him to speak again. He sat there cross legged with his fingertips together and raised until they almost touched his bearded chin, and watched me. I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't able to physically get out of the room. I couldn't fight him. So I waited.
At his leisure he took in my scrunched up skirt, my old worn, but clean blouse. My hair was a complete mess. I'd had to hold the wretched umbrella and my hair had been whipped about in the near gale force winds. I felt myself beginning to blush under his scrutiny. Looking down I could see how messy I'd become. I was shocked at how wet my blouse was. And I blushed as I realised he could probably see right through it. Not a good look for a job interview, I wryly acknowledged.
"I apologise for the way I look. My umbrella blew inside out and I couldn't fix it."
"If I give you this job, you wont be needing an umbrella. What qualifications do you have for being a maid?" he asked.
Damn, what a question to start with. "None, apart from being a mother and wife," I answered. Little did he know I was basically a slave to my own family. Seeing to every one of their wants and needs. A maid? At least a maid gets paid for her work. The only income I got to see was whatever my husband had left after gambling. Generally only enough to buy food.
"Why do you want this job?" He was into question mode now.
"I need the money." My chin went up again. I figured if I answered him honestly, I could at least keep a little of my dignity.
"I need someone who will obey me to the letter. No questions asked. Can you do that?"
I thought about that one carefully before I answered. Considering I was sitting in a bedroom on the end of a bed, it was a fairly hefty question to have to answer. But the money was a greater need than the kind of job he'd want me to do. "Yes, I can do that," I answered quietly.
"Lie back on the bed."
My eyes flew wide at that one. "Are you serious?" I didn't think I'd heard him right.
"You're questioning me already?" He glared at me. He wasn't joking.
"Nno." God, now I was stammering. I slipped off my muddy shoes and did as he asked.
