There is a bitterness in the air. I can smell it and worst of all, I can taste it. You shouldn't be here. That voice tells me. It has become a regular critic of my life choices, so when it comes, I recognise it right away. This isn't right, turn around and forget you ever met that man. It goes on but I ignore it with great difficulty as I walk alongside the Bevilacqua mansion hedge. I have never seen one so huge and I would have been utterly dumbfounded had I not seen some similar in London. It takes me a while to but I get to the main attraction and my modest amazement at the hedge multiplies. The house, if I can call it that sits with no beginning or end. The pillars stand high – mighty, the titanic wooden door holds an intimidation and the engraved walls are so striking they astound me into taking a moment to catch my breath.
"Miss Ferguson." I get out of my daze long enough to notice an old smartly dressed woman with hair tightly placed in a bun. I walk towards her but my attention is captured by the size of the grounds again. I only notice that I have reached her when I smell lavender and thankfully come to my senses before I walk right passed by her.
"I'm so sorry Mrs Bevilacqua." I apologise as I take a few steps back.
"I am not her dear." She utters simply, displaying a formal smile – slight and unfriendly. From her accent, I can tell that she is British and has an aura around her that carries the same warmth my grandmother's always did.
"Oh." Is all I can say as I am taken hostage by the masterpiece behind her again.
A thought suddenly evades my mind as I oddly remember Pemberley in Pride and Prejudice and the grandness of it. I recall Elizabeth visiting the mansion towards the end of the book and wonder if they let people visit when the "masters" aren't home. I laugh to myself thinking myself silly for such a thought when I am awoken by the sound of a loud chuckle that fills the quiet space. What I had thought to be a mental laugh is in fact a physical one.
I look up embarrassed and apologise when I am met with questioning eyes.
"It's okay dear... come this way." She turns on her heels abruptly and walks straight for the door and I am amazed again – this time at how someone of such an age can carry herself in heels that high.
I follow the lady carefully hoping my clumsiness won't show and enter into a world I never thought would ever meet me. As soon as we walk through the majestic doors, an unusual rich scent meets my senses and sends tingles down my whole body. I am hypnotised. Hypnotised by a crystal chandelier with jewels so exquisite they shoot wealth around the hall.
"Come along." The lady instructs. I follow her turning my eyes towards the floor hoping that nothing else distracts me.
We get to an opening and when I slightly lift my head, I'm welcomed by beautiful sofas that decorate the space. The lady invites me to take a seat before her and I obey instantly cursing the comfort because it shames that of my bed.
"So." She begins placing her elbows on her knees so that her entwined fingers go before her. Now that I am focused, I notice her white blouse and the knee length navy blue pencil skirt that fit her perfectly. There isn't one crease on her clothes and I wonder if it because of her perfect posture. She sits upright, her neck straight and her head held at a faultless angle and it makes me notice just how horrible my posture is. "Adam recommended you."
"You know Dr Foxwell?" I question stupidly. Of course she knows him. How else would he have known about the job opening plus, he had also mentioned that it would be at a friend's house.
"Yes." She replies, stoic. She watches me with the same expression Dr Foxwell graced me with and I curse under my breath for always being so observant. If only I was oblivious to people's feelings, my anxiety wouldn't shoot through the roof at any odd stare. "Have you done housekeeping before?"
"No." I reply, almost ashamed that I am here applying for a job that doesn't meet my qualifications. I notice her lips turn in slight scorn and add onto my speech. "But I am a fast learner... I clean my house regularly."
"Housekeeping is a bit different from that dear." She responds, making me feel imprudent.
"I don't know what to say Miss, I mean Mrs." I start.
"Mrs Ainsworth."
"Mrs Ainsworth... I really need this job because there is nothing else I can do at the moment."
"Why."
I'm taken aback by her short question but I reply confidently.
"I'm a single mother who worries about her daughter constantly and this is the only job that will permit me to have her with me and work at the same time."
I blow out a nervous breath and watch Mrs Ainsworth.
"I don't know what Adam told you but this job is taxing Katie... I have worked here for 30 years and I still haven't gotten used to tasks at hand." She says. "Working here earns you very good money and comes with a lot of benefits but it is hard work... your back will break, your knees will swell, graze and bleed and your hands my dear will be as hard as rocks... are you prepared for that.
I am watching her and not exactly sure what my expression must be like. My body is tense and my palms are sweaty.
"It isn't an easy job Katie."
I smile defeated. "Doesn't sound like it is." I respond.
"Did you have a job before this?" she questions after a wave of silence. "If you don't mind me asking."
"Yes, I did... before my daughter was born." I reply and before she asks me I go on. "I was a Lawyer."
Her eyes widened leaving their earlier expression behind.
"Sounds like a noble profession... why not go back to that?"
I think about being completely honest. I need for her to understand my plight so that she doesn't doubt that this fight is for my daughter.
"The job is demanding." I utter and sigh. "I went to work for a law firm after Emma was born. It wasn't the best job – I was taken on as a secretary." I smile before I go on. "But I was making good money for us both and she was going to day-care. I couldn't afford the best but it was going well until the person who was supposed to be looking after her took her eyes off of her for a moment." An angry shiver runs down my spine and I press my lips together to bite down my tears. "She almost died Mrs Ainsworth."
There is a silence in the air before her expression waters down to understanding.
"I understand." she utters. "I completely understand." Mrs Ainsworth lightly slaps her knees and stands."
"Lets go dear." She says her voice jollier than before. "I'll introduce you to the family."
I stand confused wondering if this is my invitation to the job and follow her quietly towards a growing chatter. I am nervous, shaky and unable to control my unstable legs. We make it to grand double doors that seem to hold the reason for the chatter and enter. I am instantly welcomed by busy lives... the buzz is that of worker bees on the job.
"Attention everyone." Mrs Ainsworth calls and promptly, the chatting and working stops. We are the centre of attention and I can feel the heat of nerves warming my neck. "This is Katie Ferguson... she will be working with us from now on. She will be in charge of the west wing."
"The west wing?" says a baby faced woman who stands by an open fridge that could fit my whole bathroom.
"Yes Melanie." She responds. "She will work on it alone but I will be the one in charge of her training." Mrs Ainsworth turns to face me and offers a smile. I am completely oblivious to what my job entails as she describes my tasks but the looks of pity from around tell me that I am in for a lovely surprise.
She walks towards the cooking station and speaks. "This right here is our sous chef Michael. You will meet Mr Hernandez the head chef some other time. He only makes it to the dinners when Mr and Mrs Bevilacqua are home. This over here is Priscilla." She says pointing towards a younger version of herself. The woman appears to be in her late 40s with hair pulled back just like Mrs Ainsworth's and wears the same expensive white shirt paired with a black pencil skirt. She looks the type not to take on anyone's nonsense and I make a mental note not to cross her. "This one over here is our youngest, Melanie." She says touching Melanie's shoulders. "She just graduated from taking care of the west wing and will be in charge of the east."
Melanie beams and silently celebrates. "Alright, get back to work." She walks back to where I stand, places her hand on my elbow and leads me out of the room. We saunter towards the front door but turn left into a corridor that holds a gallery.
"This right here is the Bevilacqua family." She declares. "Some are gone but the pictures always remain."
I keep silent as I map her footsteps.
"This right here." She says toughing an old black and white picture that barely shows the outline of a heavily bearded man and a woman with a plain beauty. He sits still with no life to him but the sparkle in his eyes. "Besides him is his wife... they are the reason why Bevilacqua foods exists-"
Bevilacqua foods?
The name of the company comes to me fast because my mother sang praise for years when it came to their pasta and Bolognese sauce. Mrs Ainsworth gives me another smile before she continues. She goes through all the photographs giving me a brief introduction of each person. Once she gets to a picture of a couple she smiles fondly. "Mr and Mrs Bevilacqua – you will meet them in a couple of months as they are away for business in Europe... this right here." She skips over an empty space and makes it to the last photograph. "Is the youngest miss... Alyssa... she is away at boarding school."
I freeze as my breath catches in my throat.
A very familiar face smiles back at me. I look from Ms Ainsworth back to the picture trying to understand the situation. There is a question somewhere in my mind but it won't come to me. Forgetting about what I want to ask, I move closer to the beaming girl and there is no mistaking that face. The smile, eyes, nose belong to my Emma.
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Next upload Thursday 31st August :).
The coming soon chapter titles are a bit messed up because I had to delete some parts because they wouldn't let me edit but I will fix them as I go along. :)
Thank you for reading :)