Three
Marisa got into bed and snuggled under the crisp, white linen sheets. She pulled the heavy silk quilt up to her chin and lifted the Victorian-style telephone receiver out of its cradle. She untangled the stretchy, spiral cord and rang her sister.
‘Hey, sis, guess where I am?’ she whispered as she pulled the quilt up around her shoulders.
‘Er, in a big, stately home somewhere in England?’ Melanie replied.
‘Yes! I am in a huge bedroom. Oh I have a roll top bath and I even have a dressing room! And...I have just been watching two people having wild sex in front of a fire.’
‘You’ve what?’ Melanie gasped.
‘Yes, you heard me correctly. Sex in front of the fire, and I’ve only just arrived.’
‘What, in the lounge? Did they know they were being watched?’
‘Er, no, in the library, I think. They didn’t see me; I was spying through the keyhole obviously.’
‘What did you do that for, you weirdo?’
‘Because I heard them and I wanted to see who it was, obviously, dumbo.’
‘Who was it? Oh, my God, it wasn’t him, was it, the Lord?’
‘No, thank God. I really don’t think I could have taken it if it was. I think I am smitten.’
‘You are no t serious. You fancy your boss after only half a day?’ Melanie asked.
‘No, not fancy. I just appreciate his charms, that’s all. It would be impossible for any normal woman not to, I told you he is seriously hot.’
‘God, it didn’t take you long to get over Mike, did it?’
‘Christ, I wish! I still feel hollow and sick every time I think about him, so thanks for reminding me about the scumbag.’
‘Oops, sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I’d better go. It was just a quick one to let you know I got here safely and to tell you about the sex thing. I will call again tomorrow. Love you, sis.’
‘Love you, be careful, and don’t sit in front of any fires.’
Marisa checked her watch and saw it was almost seven o’clock. Feeling hungry, she decided to head down to the dining room.
No one was in the dining room, so she decided to find the kitchen and introduce herself to the cook. She still hadn‘t met Alfred the butler, although her bags did mysteriously appear while she was in the bath.
She meandered through the spacious, high-walled passageways, following a delicious aroma of freshly baked bread until she reached the kitchen. Hmm, not too difficult to find, she thought.
‘Hello, anyone there?’ she called out, pushing the kitchen door open.
‘Oh, hello, dear,’ a plump cheerful-looking woman said, popping up from the far side of the kitchen counter, saucepan in hand. ‘You must be Marisa.’
Oh, thank God, a friendly face at last, Marisa thought. She rushed over and shook the woman’s hand.
‘Yes, I’m Marisa. Pleased to meet you.’
‘I’m Meryl Rose, the cook here,’ she said.
‘It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Rose. Mrs. Meryl Rose, that’s such a pretty name,’ Marisa said.
‘Oh, do call me Meryl. Are you settling in all right, dear?’
‘Hmm, kind of…’ Marisa said, hesitating, unsure of how much to tell her new friend.
‘Well, don’t you worry about a thing, deary. If you need any help, just ask.’
‘I will. Thank you, Meryl. Will Mrs. Reed be joining us for dinner?’
‘Oh, no, dear, Mrs. Reed eats alone in her rooms. She’s a funny one… yes, indeed, a funny one she is,’ Meryl said, shaking her head.
‘So who am I having dinner with? Is it just us?’
‘No, deary, you don’t eat with the kitchen staff.’ Meryl hooted. ‘Well, I expect you will be eating with the family, dear. There’s Lord St. John’s sister, Miss Felicity, she’s a bit fragile if you know what I mean, she can come across as snooty, but underneath she’s got a big heart.
‘She lives here most of the year with her husband, Marcus. He’s a sort, all right, a real eye for the ladies if you know what I mean.’ She winked and tapped her nose.
Marisa smiled and sensed there was a lot she had to learn
Marisa got into bed and snuggled under the crisp, white linen sheets. She pulled the heavy silk quilt up to her chin and lifted the Victorian-style telephone receiver out of its cradle. She untangled the stretchy, spiral cord and rang her sister.
‘Hey, sis, guess where I am?’ she whispered as she pulled the quilt up around her shoulders.
‘Er, in a big, stately home somewhere in England?’ Melanie replied.
‘Yes! I am in a huge bedroom. Oh I have a roll top bath and I even have a dressing room! And...I have just been watching two people having wild sex in front of a fire.’
‘You’ve what?’ Melanie gasped.
‘Yes, you heard me correctly. Sex in front of the fire, and I’ve only just arrived.’
‘What, in the lounge? Did they know they were being watched?’
‘Er, no, in the library, I think. They didn’t see me; I was spying through the keyhole obviously.’
‘What did you do that for, you weirdo?’
‘Because I heard them and I wanted to see who it was, obviously, dumbo.’
‘Who was it? Oh, my God, it wasn’t him, was it, the Lord?’
‘No, thank God. I really don’t think I could have taken it if it was. I think I am smitten.’
‘You are no t serious. You fancy your boss after only half a day?’ Melanie asked.
‘No, not fancy. I just appreciate his charms, that’s all. It would be impossible for any normal woman not to, I told you he is seriously hot.’
‘God, it didn’t take you long to get over Mike, did it?’
‘Christ, I wish! I still feel hollow and sick every time I think about him, so thanks for reminding me about the scumbag.’
‘Oops, sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I’d better go. It was just a quick one to let you know I got here safely and to tell you about the sex thing. I will call again tomorrow. Love you, sis.’
‘Love you, be careful, and don’t sit in front of any fires.’
Marisa checked her watch and saw it was almost seven o’clock. Feeling hungry, she decided to head down to the dining room.
No one was in the dining room, so she decided to find the kitchen and introduce herself to the cook. She still hadn‘t met Alfred the butler, although her bags did mysteriously appear while she was in the bath.
She meandered through the spacious, high-walled passageways, following a delicious aroma of freshly baked bread until she reached the kitchen. Hmm, not too difficult to find, she thought.
‘Hello, anyone there?’ she called out, pushing the kitchen door open.
‘Oh, hello, dear,’ a plump cheerful-looking woman said, popping up from the far side of the kitchen counter, saucepan in hand. ‘You must be Marisa.’
Oh, thank God, a friendly face at last, Marisa thought. She rushed over and shook the woman’s hand.
‘Yes, I’m Marisa. Pleased to meet you.’
‘I’m Meryl Rose, the cook here,’ she said.
‘It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Rose. Mrs. Meryl Rose, that’s such a pretty name,’ Marisa said.
‘Oh, do call me Meryl. Are you settling in all right, dear?’
‘Hmm, kind of…’ Marisa said, hesitating, unsure of how much to tell her new friend.
‘Well, don’t you worry about a thing, deary. If you need any help, just ask.’
‘I will. Thank you, Meryl. Will Mrs. Reed be joining us for dinner?’
‘Oh, no, dear, Mrs. Reed eats alone in her rooms. She’s a funny one… yes, indeed, a funny one she is,’ Meryl said, shaking her head.
‘So who am I having dinner with? Is it just us?’
‘No, deary, you don’t eat with the kitchen staff.’ Meryl hooted. ‘Well, I expect you will be eating with the family, dear. There’s Lord St. John’s sister, Miss Felicity, she’s a bit fragile if you know what I mean, she can come across as snooty, but underneath she’s got a big heart.
‘She lives here most of the year with her husband, Marcus. He’s a sort, all right, a real eye for the ladies if you know what I mean.’ She winked and tapped her nose.
Marisa smiled and sensed there was a lot she had to learn
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