Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
For the first time I’m not accountable or beholden to anyone.
It’s pitch dark when I arrive at the office building. I pass the mirrors at the entrance and smile at myself. Yeah, life is good at the moment. I walk up the stairs to the second floor. It’s my job to clean this entire floor. Fifteen small offices in a large open plan space with cubicles in the middle. There are also two sets of bathrooms and a long corridor to do.
The place is never filthy, and even the bathrooms are left in a reasonable state, but I quite enjoy cleaning everything to the highest standard possible. I always get a sense of accomplishment when my floors are all sparkly. Two and a half hours later I’m finished to my satisfaction.
I fill the kettle in the kitchen and open my packet of pot noodles while I wait. When the water has boiled, I pour it into the plastic pot, cover it, and carry it to the table facing the window. The sun is just rising, and sky is red, purple, and yellow. It’s as beautiful as a Monet painting. I cut a thick slice of ham, chop it up and sprinkle it on top of my noodles, Then I sit down.
Alone and in perfect silence, I eat my breakfast.
The instant noodles are hot and delicious. It feels like a meal fit for a Queen. I feel lucky, so damn lucky. My mind drifts slowly. I think of Viktor, where he might be, what he might be doing. I remember that night sitting in the back of his black Rolls Royce and staring out of the window. I was scared and excited. What if I had jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire? Was I on an adventure to rival all adventures, or was I going to be the victim of a sick serial killer?
All kinds of horrible thoughts ran through my mind as the car glided smoothly through the deserted streets. Slowly, his aftershave drifted into my nostrils, and it was nothing I’d scented before. It was subtle and mysterious, and my mind childishly concluded no one who smelled that good could be bad.
When the car came to a stop outside the place where I was to be housed, his staff, as if they’d been briefed in advance, came out to open the door and greet me. In a daze, I got out and the car pulled away from the curb. I watched it until it turned a corner. I never saw him after that night.
When my little noodle pot is empty, I throw it away, give the table a quick wipe even though I’ve not messed it up. I like to leave it all extra shiny for Viktor’s employees when they come in later in the morning.
The smell of apple air freshener is still in my nostrils when I lock up and leave.
I take the bus to Viktor’s house where today I’m supposed to help Justine and Leanne finish up. It is only a short walk from the bus stop, and as I arrive at the house, well, it is more of a mansion than a house. I can’t help but marvel all over again at the sheer size of it.
Even after a month, I’m still overwhelmed every single time I see it. Surrounded by old trees and acres of green lawns, the house itself is something else. I swear, it’s like something out of a fairy tale, rising tall in its own vast walled grounds.
Tall Roman pillars soar at least thirty feet into the air. As I go through the staff entrance, I nod at old George. I can’t help feeling what a shame it is that this house is always empty except for the staff.
I walk up the driveway, reach the door, and ring the bell. Justine answers the door and shakes her head at me.
“How many times do I need to tell you that you don’t have to ring the doorbell. Use your key, why don’t cha,” she admonishes.
Every time I’m scheduled to come to this house, Justine and I have some variation of this conversation. Technically, Justine is my boss and if she says I don’t need to ring the bell then I don’t, but it feels disrespectful just walking into Viktor’s house without announcing myself. I mean, what if he’s home? He could think I’m overstepping the line. I remember his silvery eyes again, and a shiver runs through me. He has amazingly light irises that seem to look right through you.
“Sorry, it just feels weird walking into someone’s house without ringing the doorbell.”
Justine steps back and I go inside the house. Together we head towards the staff area, where I take my jacket off and hang it and my rucksack on one of the hooks.