She would have been one of these vile people before her parents had hit on bad times. Or she would certainly have turned into one of them if she hadn't been dragged out of ninth grade mid-term and deposited unceremoniously back on the doorstep of her parents eight bedroomed manor house deep in the heart of Warwickshire.
Returned home in disgrace by her association to her own parents no less, on account of non-payment of fees at Arlesey Boarding School for Girls. It was her parents who were the disgrace though, not her.
Rosalind Penthorpe-Cleeves was fully aware of who she had become since that miserable day eleven years ago, and it was not one of these debaucherous wedding guests that she had the displeasure of serving canapes to tonight.
She'd already accidentally walked in on a couple around her age going at it in the designated staff toilet in the old servants' quarters of the stately home she was currently working in.
She'd pulled the door wide and was stunned to see a woman with her butt perched on the washbasin, her legs waving about like opposing windmills while a good-looking guest with his trousers around his ankles pummelled away at her, the sweat pouring down his forehead as he'd run out of time to remove his blazer before he got to work in their enclosed space.
The woman, oblivious to Rosalind's presence had her head turned the other way but the man locked his blue eyes on Rosalind and gave her a grin, unfazed and maybe even delighted that he had an audience.
He continued thrusting and gazed straight into Rosalind's eyes as if in the moment she was his possession too. After one or two more thrusts Rosalind's brain finally engaged and she slammed the door shut in disgust. She walked away and shook herself to discard the man's eyes still creeping toward her.
'Arseholes,' she muttered.
'What was that?'
Rosalind turned to find that her best friend Ava, had caught up with her. She held an empty silver platter and was on her way back to the kitchen to replenish the canapes.
'Two people shagging in the staff toilet, for God's sake.'
'Yuck,' said Ava. 'There's probably going to be plenty of that later. There's already some extremely drunk people out there. I don't think canapes will be sufficient to soak up the alcohol.'
'No,' agreed Rosalind.
They were almost back at the kitchen.
'What's the matter Ros?' said Ava, concerned about her friend's subdued expression.
'Oh, it's nothing Ave. I just,' she chuckled to change the mood, 'it's just I really need the loo,' she smiled at her friend.
Ava held on a moment not convinced that was what her friend had originally intended to say. She had come to recognise that whenever she and Ros did jobs like this one that her friend appeared to become quieter as if reflecting on her previous life.
'Ros, if you scoot up these stairs here there should be one on the first floor, but don't let Madeleine see you, she's a bit OTT about being professional at all times. I'm sure she'd rather you pee into a bucket, but as it's the twenty-first century and we're employees not servants I think it will be ok. But be quick alright?'
'I'll be quick,' said Rosalind, taking her apron off and leaving it draped over the bottom of the banister. 'Quicker than that couple anyway,' she joked as she sprinted up the plush carpeted stairs toward the first floor. She heard Ava laughing after her as she went and then the sound of the swing door leading to the busy kitchen in the throes of preparing a midnight feast for four hundred guests.
Rosalind alighted the first floor and hurried down the corridor, aware she was breaking protocol, well Madeleine's protocol anyway.
She tried humbly to identify a bathroom but the corridor was so long and the doors to the rooms were enormous that it didn't look like there would be a bathroom on its own for guests.
Although it was called Brockenhurst Manor it was clearly in the wrong category thought Rosalind. The carpets and ornate fittings were extensive and lavish, and she suspected that behind each door she passed was a suite of rooms with a study area, lounge and en-suite.
Even for Rosalind, who had seen much of high society back in Warwickshire, Brockenhurst Manor was in a different league.
She felt like she'd walked too far and so she decided to give it up before she tried her luck and pushed open the wrong door to see another couple getting a quickie in before the dancing started.
She turned abruptly to head back and then stopped in her tracks as a man appeared before her, exiting one on the rooms into the hall.
'Sorry,' she mumbled, realising she'd almost collided with him.
He was tall and athletic with bright blue eyes and a mop of brown curls down to his chin. He'd loosened his bow tie and the top of his shirt was undone. His blazer hung over his arm and he casually placed one hand in his smart tailored trouser pocket and smiled at her.
'No problem. Are you looking for a bathroom?'
'Er, yes,' said Rosalind, regaining her composure. 'There's two guests shagging in ours. Oh ...' She blushed violently aware how rude her explanation for wandering the halls sounded.
The man chuckled and his eyes crinkled. He wasn't offended at all but Rosalind was too embarrassed to laugh along.
'That's unfortunate, people get silly at weddings don't they?'
'Not all of them, but there's always someone who lets the rest down I suppose.'
The man acknowledged her theory with a nod. 'Well I'm afraid the nearest bathroom on this floor is miles away but you're welcome to use mine, however you probably don't want to go into a room alone with a man you've never met.'
Rosalind smiled. He was obviously trying to be helpful, but he was correct.
'Um,' she said, trying to think of a polite response.
'I'll show you where the bathroom is,' he said kindly, gesturing for her to follow him.
Rosalind followed, she felt like she ought to have declined, if Madeleine caught wind of her hassling the guests she'd have something to say about it, but it was nice to step away from the chaos of the kitchen for a few moments, and the guy seemed alright.
'Have you had a good shift?' he said politely.
'Not too bad, I'm about four hours in. I'm on until three in the morning though.'
'Oh dear. That sounds like torture. Will you get a break?'
'Probably, in a couple of hours at about ten o'clock.'
'Well, I hope it's a decent break and that you get to put your feet up.'
Rosalind chuckled. 'It's highly unlikely, there's not really anywhere to sit, except on the back steps.'
He adjusted his pace slightly to accommodate her shorter stride then glanced at her curiously.
'Have we met before?' he said.
'I don't think so,' said Rosalind, searching her memory banks just in case they had met before. It didn't happen very often, but every now and then she'd bump into an old peer and the initial pleasantries would turn into enquiries and commiserations about her new, much less affluent life. Occasionally she'd get the rude question about how much longer her parents had left in gaol.
'You seem familiar,' he said, as he too searched his memory.
Rosalind's stomach churned at the thought of being recognised, but she was pretty sure she'd never met this extremely good-looking man before.
'I'm afraid, I don't recognise you,' she said politely.
'And I'm afraid my brain is on overload, the amount of people I've met here today.'
They'd turned the corner at the end of the very long hall. 'Just through there,' said the man, gesturing to a small discreet door tucked away from the main hall.
'Thank you,' said Rosalind, with a smile.
The man smiled.
'Er, regarding your break later, if you'd like somewhere to sit there's a hammock in the midnight garden. I've just come from there and since most of the guests here are more interested in getting hammered, I'm sure you'll find it on the quiet side.'
'Oh, thank you. I might try that.'
'Wait, what's your name?'
Rosalind nodded politely, 'oh, my name's Rosalind, what's yours?'
'I'm Jay, Rosalind, it was a pleasure to meet you.' He smiled again and nodded farewell.
Rosalind watched him go and wondered why everyone couldn't be as polite as he was. Never mind. She opened the bathroom door carefully and switched on the light. Thank goodness—no unpleasant surprises.