up to a full complement of customers but had already arranged a three-hour clean for that Monday morning.
Charley found herself unexpectedlygrateful. The money would give her a chance to top the car up with petrol, and the work would get her out of the house, away from Steve and the risk of yet another row.
The customer lived down a country lane beyond the green in Little Grove. It was a small farmhouse with a stable block tagged on to one side. A large pond curved around the front and one side of the house. It was a beautiful settingwith rabbits on the grass, ducks by the pond and birdsong filling the air.
Walking up to the front door, Charley was suddenly wracked with nerves. She had no idea why. It wasn’t going to be rocket science. She had cleaned her own home, hadn’t she? She took a deep breath. She would just get on with the job, take the money and get the hell out of there. How difficult could it be?
Brushing offher anxiety, she rapped firmly on the front door knocker. A cacophony of barking exploded from inside the house and Charley took a step backwards. She heard the sound of a woman shouting amongst all the woofing and yapping. Gradually, the noise became muted before the front door was opened.
‘Are you the cleaner?’ boomed the middle-aged woman standing in the doorway.
‘Yes. Hello, I’m Charlotte.’
The customer introduced herself as Miss Fuller and went back into the dark hallway.
‘Dogs are going mad for their walk,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Never had a cleaner before.’
Despite the idyllic setting, the house was a mess of paperwork, boxes, dog baskets and general untidiness. It wasn’t filthy but it wasn’t pristine either. And the smell of dog was definitely in the air.
‘Blasted landlordhas told me that I’ve got to keep the place tip-top. Can’t possibly move away at the minute. I’ve only just planted a new lot of potatoes.’
Charley glanced out of the window and spotted four dogs tearing around the garden.
Miss Fuller threw open the back door. ‘Leave those cabbages alone!’ she roared.
She slammed the back door shut and led Charley on a tour. Front room, dining room, utilityroom, a couple of bedrooms which were mostly used for storage. And a grim bathroom which hadn’t seen a drop of bleach for decades.
By now, Charley was seriously worried. She had only been allocated three hours. This house looked as if it needed three years spent on it.
Back in the kitchen, Miss Fuller told her all the cleaning materials were under the sink. ‘Hoover’s in the hall cupboard. We’reoff for our walk. Should be back in an hour. Just start wherever you like.’
She left through the back door, calling the dogs as she went. ‘Herbert! Mozart! Come on, you lot! Desmond, I told you to get away from my cabbages!’
Charley watched them recede out of sight and then turned to face the inside of the house. It was weird being alone in a stranger’s home. She felt unnerved, as if she werean intruder.
With a sigh, she opened up the sink cupboard, grabbed a duster and some furniture polish and made her way to the front room. An hour later, she had dusted, scrubbed and cleaned as much as she could downstairs and was already exhausted.
She trudged her way upstairs to the bathroom. Grimacing, she squirted cleaner around the dark rim inside the bath and stood well back to avoid thetoxic aroma of bleach and chemicals. Then she scrubbed at the places where the chemicals had done their job, giving the bath a streaked effect. She was running out of time, with the bedrooms and vacuuming still to do. She would just have to get the bits she’d missed the following week, and hope Miss Fuller wouldn’t notice.
Charley heard the back door slam and some movement in the kitchen.
‘Wanta cup of tea?’ came a holler.
‘Yes, please,’ she shouted back, hoping the offer was for her.
Next she heard the sound of scrabbling paws on the tiles in the hallway, followed by pounding on the
Charley found herself unexpectedlygrateful. The money would give her a chance to top the car up with petrol, and the work would get her out of the house, away from Steve and the risk of yet another row.
The customer lived down a country lane beyond the green in Little Grove. It was a small farmhouse with a stable block tagged on to one side. A large pond curved around the front and one side of the house. It was a beautiful settingwith rabbits on the grass, ducks by the pond and birdsong filling the air.
Walking up to the front door, Charley was suddenly wracked with nerves. She had no idea why. It wasn’t going to be rocket science. She had cleaned her own home, hadn’t she? She took a deep breath. She would just get on with the job, take the money and get the hell out of there. How difficult could it be?
Brushing offher anxiety, she rapped firmly on the front door knocker. A cacophony of barking exploded from inside the house and Charley took a step backwards. She heard the sound of a woman shouting amongst all the woofing and yapping. Gradually, the noise became muted before the front door was opened.
‘Are you the cleaner?’ boomed the middle-aged woman standing in the doorway.
‘Yes. Hello, I’m Charlotte.’
The customer introduced herself as Miss Fuller and went back into the dark hallway.
‘Dogs are going mad for their walk,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Never had a cleaner before.’
Despite the idyllic setting, the house was a mess of paperwork, boxes, dog baskets and general untidiness. It wasn’t filthy but it wasn’t pristine either. And the smell of dog was definitely in the air.
‘Blasted landlordhas told me that I’ve got to keep the place tip-top. Can’t possibly move away at the minute. I’ve only just planted a new lot of potatoes.’
Charley glanced out of the window and spotted four dogs tearing around the garden.
Miss Fuller threw open the back door. ‘Leave those cabbages alone!’ she roared.
She slammed the back door shut and led Charley on a tour. Front room, dining room, utilityroom, a couple of bedrooms which were mostly used for storage. And a grim bathroom which hadn’t seen a drop of bleach for decades.
By now, Charley was seriously worried. She had only been allocated three hours. This house looked as if it needed three years spent on it.
Back in the kitchen, Miss Fuller told her all the cleaning materials were under the sink. ‘Hoover’s in the hall cupboard. We’reoff for our walk. Should be back in an hour. Just start wherever you like.’
She left through the back door, calling the dogs as she went. ‘Herbert! Mozart! Come on, you lot! Desmond, I told you to get away from my cabbages!’
Charley watched them recede out of sight and then turned to face the inside of the house. It was weird being alone in a stranger’s home. She felt unnerved, as if she werean intruder.
With a sigh, she opened up the sink cupboard, grabbed a duster and some furniture polish and made her way to the front room. An hour later, she had dusted, scrubbed and cleaned as much as she could downstairs and was already exhausted.
She trudged her way upstairs to the bathroom. Grimacing, she squirted cleaner around the dark rim inside the bath and stood well back to avoid thetoxic aroma of bleach and chemicals. Then she scrubbed at the places where the chemicals had done their job, giving the bath a streaked effect. She was running out of time, with the bedrooms and vacuuming still to do. She would just have to get the bits she’d missed the following week, and hope Miss Fuller wouldn’t notice.
Charley heard the back door slam and some movement in the kitchen.
‘Wanta cup of tea?’ came a holler.
‘Yes, please,’ she shouted back, hoping the offer was for her.
Next she heard the sound of scrabbling paws on the tiles in the hallway, followed by pounding on the
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