Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
I know, it’s a disgusting term, but how else was I to describe it?
The boy wore his sports gear for his after-school training, and the brown liquid stained the toe of his white rugby boot.
“Eww! What’s that?” he asked, a grim expression on his face as he held his foot up to inspect it.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry,” I said, wincing when I heard Mrs Reynolds’ heels clipping towards the kitchen.
“Maggie,” she interrupted as she entered the room. “What have you done to Tadhg’s new boots?”
I hastily grabbed some kitchen roll and tried to mop up the mess. “My apologies. I didn’t see the lad come in. If he wants to take off the boots, I can pop them in the washing machine, and they’ll be good as new.”
Mrs Reynolds pursed her lips, a glower gracing her dewy face. The dewy aspect came from regular trips to a cosmetic clinic, though it was so well done and subtle you’d barely notice her youthful glow wasn’t natural.
“No, not the washing machine. That’ll only damage them. You’ll need to scrub them by hand. Tadhg, take off your boots and give them to Maggie. Maggie, please apologise to my son for ruining his boots with this sloppy mess you’ve left all over the floor. I thought I paid you to keep the house clean, not make it dirtier.”
I stared at her, my eyebrows rising slowly in disbelief. “I’m in the middle of cleaning the oven. I planned to mop the floor before I finished. It’s not like I was going to leave it like this.”
“I can’t believe you’re making excuses,” Mrs Reynolds scoffed. “Tadhg’s lucky he didn’t slip and injure himself in all that grease. I should dock your pay for this. Now, apologise to him immediately.”
My stomach roiled, and a sense of defiance filled me. She was trying to humiliate me, in front of her son no less, and even though I was kneeling on the floor, I wasn’t going to bow down to her. I at least had enough pride to keep my head held high, despite my current position.
“I already told Tadhg I was sorry before you came in,” I said, voice tight.
“Do it again.”
Another burst of defiance shot through me. “No. You’re making far too big a deal out of this.”
The corner of her eye twitched. “Excuse me?”
“Mammy, it’s fine,” Tadhg interrupted, sensing the tension, but she shushed him.
“Take off your shoes, and go get your other pair from the closet.”
“Okay,” her son replied with a sigh as he slipped off his boots and left the kitchen.
Mrs Reynolds turned her attention back to me, eyes narrowed, and I saw a flash of venom as she folded her arms. “You’re aware I could have you fired from all the houses you clean in this neighbourhood with just a few short phone calls?”
Her words rattled me, a feeling of sickness rolling in. I didn’t doubt she’d follow through with her threat. It was one of the reasons I still worked for her, the fear of being blacklisted if I quit. Cleaning houses was my livelihood, and Mrs Reynolds had influence. As I’d said, I didn’t work for an agency anymore and needed to keep my clients happy. So, although I disliked Mrs Reynolds greatly, I had to tolerate her. Pissing her off could lead to me becoming unemployed, especially because my education was limited, and my only experience was cleaning. I wasn’t exactly a glowing candidate for potential employers. I also couldn’t afford to go back to minimum wage because it wouldn’t cover my rent.
“Listen,” I relented, “if you want me to apologise to Tadhg again, I will.”
I saw the triumph in her eyes. She had me under foot, exactly where she liked me. I felt like crying and being sick all at once. So much for my sense of pride. It currently mingled on the floor with the oven juice. I wondered what it must feel like to be so powerful and rich no one dared disrespect you. That would never be me. Not only had I started two feet below the bottom rung of the ladder, but I also lacked the ruthless ambition to climb higher.
Mrs Reynolds unfolded her arms and moved away from the kitchen island. “No need. Just finish up with the oven and get going. I’m not paying you overtime. Oh, and don’t forget to clean Tadhg’s boots.”
With that, she left, and I deflated. I felt like the smallest person in the world at that moment. I managed to hold it together long enough to finish cleaning the oven, mop the floor and scrub clean Tadhg’s boots, but by the time I left the house and was walking down the dark, lamp lit street to the bus stop, my tears erupted. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.