The doorbell rang with an impatience that sent Eden scurrying down the hallway in his built up heels. Even as he was hurridly checking his curly hair in the mirror and smoothing down his blouse around the waist belt, the bell sounded three times, incessantly.
Hoping that the Master of the House would not feel that the rude ringing was because she was being slovenly, the maid adopted her ‘ready to greet’ smile, pulled back her shoulders and opened the door.
She was about to say, ‘Good afternoon, welcome to our residence,’ as commanded by the Master of the House, when Eden’s brain froze. Froze solid like a brittle ice cube.
Alicia stood on the step fuming. Her case was at her feet, her features burning with rage.
“Oh my God!” Was all she said.
“I, erm, I,” what could Eden say to his own daughter seeing him feminised like this and answering the door like a servant?
“What the fuck is all this?”
Had she ever sworn before? Was this a product of her new student life? Or was she just so shocked by his appearance that she lost all sense of decency?
Her lips pressed forward with indignant rage.
Obviously, he wouldn’t upbraid her now for her language, not when she was clearly so shaken at what she was seeing. He could understand her confusion.
“Come in,” he said, before quietly adding, “please.”
In the safety of the hallway, with the door closed, Eden’s instinct was to ask if he could take her coat, but that seemed inappropriate right now. So, they stood in awkward silence as she eyeballed him from head to toe.
“Perhaps I should explain,” Eden began.
But he was quickly silenced by her closing her eyes and waving a hand.
Alicia said, “Apparently I can only hear the full story from some guy called Marcus. Who, now get this, is gonna explain everything to me? Well, I don’t want to hear anything from him!”
“Maid, you haven’t taken her coat yet.”
How long had Marcus been standing in the hallway?
Oh God. He could hardly address him as Master, so Eden bowed his head and nibbled his lip.
Taking in a deep breath, as if ready to attack, Alicia said to Marcus, “Now you better understand. I don’t want to know about this. From anyone. Let alone a stranger. I am going up to my room. And I kinda don’t want to hear about anything until its dinner time!”
Marcus smiled and nodded. “Yes. I quite understand. I did say in our phone call that I needed to appraise you of the situation.”
Eden’s eyes opened wide in shock. Marcus had phoned his daughter? What had he said?
“Appraise me? Of why my dad looks like a fairy at one of the gay bars at college?”
Laughing, as if relaxed with the world, Marcus said, “Please come in and take a seat. That’s quite a journey you’ve had. The maid will take your case to your room for you.”
As ever Marcus had that dominant, casual, in charge, demeanour.
Alicia knew Marcus was hot, in that way alpha males are. They had that assertive manner other guys lacked. So she was now intrigued enough to shrug and drop her coat form her shoulders to the floor before walking into the sitting room with a quick roll of her eyes to show her teenage contempt of it all.
Marcus said, “Maid, be a good girl and put her coat in the cupboard and then take her case to the bedroom. Make sure you place all her garments carefully in her drawers and wardrobe. I’ll summon you when you are required.”
As they were now alone in the corridor, Eden said, “Yes, master.” But did so in a low whispering voice.
The Master of the House appeared to accept the response before entering the sitting room, closing the door. It was as if Eden was cut off from his family.
Suddenly Eden could breathe again.
He needed to stand up to Marcus. They hadn’t discussed this. What on earth was he doing, involving his 18 year old daughter in their adventures?
If they’d spoken Marcus and Alicia had spoken yesterday then surely the Master of the House would have known she was coming back a week early. Why hadn’t he said anything? This was just ludicrous. And exasperating!
Yet here he was, alone in the hallway, whilst the Master of the House, Eden’s Wife, Erika, and their daughter Alicia were behind a closed door. A closed door that might as well have been locked as he was forbidden to enter any room that wasn’t empty without knocking first.
After placing the coat neatly on a hanger in the cupboard under the stairs, he lifted the heavy case ready to go upstairs as instructed. He paused at the sitting room door to see if he could hear anything, but music was playing and the only sound of voices he could hear was low and muffled. He recognised one of the voices as that of the Master of the House but couldn’t make out the words.
Obviously, Eden wasn’t going to remain in the hallway lest he got caught, so carried his daughter’s case up to her new room.
While a traumatised Maid sat on his daughter’s new bed, in her new room attached to the master bedroom, his brain tried to work – but couldn’t. He needed to make sense of it all, but until the Master of the House clarified the situation he would know nothing.
He groaned, feeling sick at his helpless ignorance.
Downstairs Marcus was in his element: mansplaining.
Alicia was sat on a large cushion on the floor, her legs curled up beneath her, as she sipped at a lager held in both hands.
A cute image for a very cute young girl, Marcus thought.
Her hair was blonde like her mothers, but her eyes a lighter, more icy blue and her tight jeans showed a gorgeous arse and shapely legs.
“I knew it was going to be a shock …” Marcus began.
“A shock! Too fucking true!”
Marcus didn’t approve of his girls swearing but decided to let that slide – for now. After all Alicia was untrained, though that state wouldn’t last for very long.
Erika brought in her own small glass of Italian lager and sat on an armchair, enthralled in what was about to take place. How would even the Master of the House explain this away?
Marcus stood before the two women, “All that this is about, is that the maid wanted to see what it was like to be a real maid in an actual household.”
The burly guy before Alicia spoke so authoritatively that Alicia didn’t snort with the derision she felt. But feeling that she ought to show some contempt, shook her head. It was time to speak:
“My dad is not a maid. Look, I don’t know what you’re pulling here. But what ever it is I am not buying it!”
Smiling with understanding, Marcus said, “Of course not. Nor should you.”
“Look!” Alicia held her glass tightly, “I don’t care what pervy games are going on here. But I am not to be a part of it. I am not a kid. I can see what is happening.”
“Ah!” Marcus raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. “Oh, I see. You think it’s a sex game. Yes, I can see that. But no, far from it. This is all very real. You see the maid …”
Alicia sighed, “will you call him my father, or Eden, or Mr Dawes. Anything but the bloody maid.”
More swearing! Marcus’ eyes narrowed, but he maintained his air of humorous detachment. “You see, the maid, and you’ll see why I am calling her the maid, in a moment.”
“Her! Calling her?” Alicia turned to her mother, “mum, what’s going on here? This a crazy joke?”
Her mother smiled, lolling her head to one side. “No babes. You listen to the Master of the House. He will explain it better than me.”
At this, Alicia gave a forced teenage laugh. “Master of the House. Yeh? I am in some eighteenth century manor. Oh My God!”
“The maid wished to know what it would be like to be a servant in a house.,” Marcus kept his voice even, thinking about he would love to spank the bratty teenager’s arse through those hot jeans she wore. “After all in her previous life she was a very successful business man. So, I can understand that she would wish to appreciate the opposite world view.”
“Oh sure, yeh, and become a maid?” Alicia’s eyebrows rose under her blonde fringe.
“Yes. But she was insistent that this world was to be real and exact. Hence why it requires me to be Master of the House and your Mother to be Mistress of the House.”
“And what am I? Another maid? Or don’t I get a job title?”
Her mocking tone was getting to Marcus. He was very close to dropping the little madam over his knee and spanking her bare arse until she became less of a spoiled brat.
Instead, he forced a smile. “Quite right, Alicia. You do have a part to play in the household. But certainly not maid. As the daughter of the Mistress of the House you are clearly another Mistress.”
“Oh great. I am a princess all of a sudden!”
One more bitchy remark and she’d be a weeping princess, Marcus thought. He grunted a laugh.
“You see, this is why I felt it necessary to have a word with you. If you don’t treat the maid in an appropriate manner, then it will ruin everything. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”
She stood up. “You know, mister Master of the House, I don’t give a fucking toss. I am not a princess or whatever it is. And my dad is my dad. Now that you understand that, I’m going to my bedroom!”
As she reached the door in a flurry of righteous indignation, a point having been made, Marcus spoke. Was his tone more stern? She paused, the door handle in her fingers, but feeling compelled to remain.
“One thing. It became necessary to move you out of your room into the bedroom adjacent to the Master bedroom.
What? She was too shocked to even turn around. Finally, she turned, her eyes intense.
“Now listen, Mister Master of the House, or whatever. I want my old room back, like right now.”
“Well, you’ve been moved. Let’s discuss it over dinner.”
She shook her head theatrically and looked at Erika, “mum!”
When her mother simply shrugged, she fled from the room, making sure the door banged back on its hinges.
In her new room, Eden was moving her underwear from the case into a drawer.
“Hey. That’s my personal stuff!”
She stood in the doorway, glaring at her father.
“Sorry,” Eden stepped back knowing he had to add ‘mistress’, but couldn’t.
“Sorry? You’re sorry? Like how did all this shit even happen.” She offered up her palm like a police officer stopping traffic and closed her eyes. “You know, I don’t give a fuck! Just get out and leave me in peace!”
How he wanted to exit this uncomfortable situation.
“Jesus Christ dad. Don’t, like just don’t ever call me that again!”
Eden nodded his head, feeling his curls brush his cheeks, “No Mistress. Erm, Miss.”
“Oh my God, just go!”
And he did, scampering back to his new room decorated in teenage pink colours. There he stood in shock, his head thumping. It may have been a long five minutes before he heard the bell from downstairs, summoning him. Checking his appearance he raced down stairs.