Sally Johnstone was not having a good day. First of all, her mother had left the office early with no explanation so she had been forced to cancel lunch with her friends. Secondly, when one of their biggest clients had phoned to say that her mother was supposed to call him back but hadn't, she had been forced to spend over an hour trying to calm him down and pacify him. Most of all, however, now that her lazy chauffeur had finally managed to force her limousine through the rush hour traffic, she had come home to find the house in uproar.
Throwing down her coat in exasperation and wondering where the butler was instead of being there to help her off with it, she grabbed one of the maids who was rushing past and demanded an explanation.
"Master Tony and Mrs Ingram are swapping bedrooms. But we are almost finished now and they are both waiting for you in the Master's study."
"Master Tony?" she asked herself incredulously. "What on earth was the silly girl talking about?"
Determined to get to the root of all this commotion, she marched through to the study and again wondered why the maid had referred to it as the "Master's." It had always been her mother's favourite room; the one she met any clients who were lucky enough to be admitted to their home and the one where she meted out any discipline to the family that she saw fit to deliver. Now she approached it with a new sense of trepidation but trusted that her mother would have everything under control.
Ever since her husband had been inconsiderate enough to die and leave her own her own, she had relied on her mother for everything. Although her friends often asked her why she had never remarried, she knew that she was perfectly happy with her present circumstances. Her mother had done an excellent job in building up the business left to her by her late husband so Sally was more than happy to sit back and reap the benefits without actually having to do too much.
As for men, she had never seen the need to travel that path again. Of course, with her wealth and position, not to mention the fact that she was still a beautiful woman, there had been no shortage of suitors but she never encouraged them. She had already allowed one man into her bed and had given birth to two children as a result. There would be no more of that and, as she had never liked sex in the first place, she didn't consider it a great loss.
Now, as she arrived at the heavy wooden door of the study, she had a dreadful premonition that everything was about to change and that her easy, comfortable life was about to be taken from her. She couldn't have been more right.
Resisting the impulse to knock on the door, she burst into "the Master's" study and demanded an explanation. The first shock was that it was her son, Tony, and not her mother who was sitting behind the desk. The second was that her mother was also in the room but she was kneeling by Tony's side as if she was waiting for her instructions.
"Tony, what on earth is going on? Why are you sitting there? Why is the house in such turmoil? And why are you kneeling down there, mother? Have you lost something?"
"So you finally made it home, mother? I'm glad you've noticed that there have been some changes in your absence because they are just the start. Perhaps grandmother can explain the new order of things to you in words that you will understand."
Sally was about to reproach her insolent son for speaking to her in such a manner but her attention was taken by her own mother getting up off the floor. She had never seen the older woman dressed as she was now. It wasn't that she was showing off a lot of flesh but her skirt was shorter, and tighter, than it had ever been. Her blouse was probably one size too small at least as it seemed to strain to contain her mother's breasts. And she realised in horror that it didn't look like her mother was wearing a bra because her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of her blouse.
"Sit down, Sally, and I'll explain everything," she said, leading her daughter over to the large sofa in front of the even larger fireplace.
"Tony has found out about his father's will and is now the sole owner and managing director of the firm. We will both be allowed to keep our seats on the board but we will have no voting rights or power. However, nothing else will change as long as we do as we are told."
"Have you lost your mind, mother?" Sally almost screamed. "We can't allow this to happen! YOU can't allow this to happen. What are you going to do about it?"
"And what on earth are you wearing?" she asked, almost as an afterthought.
"I'm wearing what Tony has ordered me to wear and so will you. If you want to maintain your current lifestyle, if you want to hold on to your chauffeur-driven limo, your exotic holidays, your extravagant lifestyle, then you will do what I am doing, and that is whatever Tony tells us to do. Do you understand?"
"No, I don't understand any of this. How could you let this happen, mother? And, for God's sake, go and put on a bra."
"Tony doesn't want me to wear underwear when I am at home, nor you neither. I'm sorry, Tony; she's not going to listen to me."
Tony had said next to nothing up to this point but he knew he was going to have to intervene. He had spent the afternoon punishing his grandmother, making sure she was entirely convinced of her position in the new pecking order and now he realised he was going to have to do the same with his mother. With a sigh, he pushed back his chair and got up. His mother watched as he confidently walked over to the fireplace and stood in front of it, towering over both women, just as his father and grandfather used to do.
"How many credit cards do you have, mother?"
"I don't know. Six or seven, maybe. What's that got to do with anything?"