The letter was from my old Head Boy and before we make any jokes about Head Boy's the answer is...........Lets just say it was a boarding school....Wink Wink. Turns out he had won her in a bet, hope she wasn't the Jackpot because I would hate to see the booby. The only problem was he was going on a world tour again, in other words he is still living the high life off mummy and daddies fortune. Visiting cities then their clap clinics (us mortals can only dream of such a life). He had heard on the social grapevine I was looking for staff and sent her. At the age of 16 I could never say no to the Head Boy and now at 45, I am still putty in his hands. That has always been my problem, I am too kind, too caring and can never say No. Mix that with a 6 foot 2, blond beauty who is 3 years older and looks 15 years younger well I am a goner.
Her name is Rosario, a very tiny framed woman with bleached blonde going on yellow hair. Looking up at me, staring with beady grey eyes and a smile which can only be described as an advert I once saw about dog chew that makes your dogs breath smell fresh and cleans their teeth. Must make a note to put them on the shopping list for Rosario, sorry back to the advert. The dogs had fake human smiles and that was this face looking up at me. I needed some time to think so I told her to stand and wait until I returned.
When my husband arrived home late that same evening from his work, his first words to me when he greeted me in the drawing room was
"Why is there an old woman in our hallway, who is by the way dripping all over our new parquet flooring?"
Oh bugger I had totally forgotten about the Mexican dripping in the Hallway. My loving, caring, husband just kept laughing once he read the letter. The only thing he did say as he kissed me goodnight in between laughing was that she was my problem now.
Sorting out the dripping needed to be tackled straight away. I was not going to allow her to wear any of our clothes so mincing quickly to our son's old bedroom I grabbed the first item in his wardrobe.
Passing her in the downstairs hallway I beckoned for her to follow me, we moved quickly into the kitchen. I handed her a couple of tea towels and pressed the item of clothing into her hands. Speaking very clear and slowly I told her to dry off and put the new clothes on. I did use my hands to help with the English, well as a Queen we always use ones hands to help illuminate what ones saying. I left and went straight (which is hard thing for me to do) for the Sloe Gin bottle and thought "Fuck it" and slugged straight out of the bottle.
Have you every seen an old, skinny, wrinkly woman in a Onesies? It would have been ok if it had been a nice floral pattern, stripes or even gingham at a push but not our son, he had got one that looked a lot like the orange American inmates uniform.
Now you are starting to wonder if I was going to allow her to sleep in our lovely blue and white Guest suite and you guessed right. I shoved her out the kitchen door into the garden and straight into the summer house which sat at the bottom right next to the small lake. The lake is not grand more like a puddle with a couple goldfish turned mutant and usually a dead bird floating on the top. Our son used the summerhouse as a hang out with his chums, very strange smell every time I walked in but I always put it down to teenagers and loads of sweat. The main room had a table, chairs, television and a bed. Off this room was a tiny cute kitchen, really just a sink in a cupboard and a modern small wet room. I showed Rosario around the room and exited faster than a Bishop in a Gay Bar after another Bishop walks in. I marched straight for the cellar and grabbed that special bottle which I keep just for emergencies.
To be continued..............
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