Story: Klavdia Kuznetsova. Chapter 3.

by Violet Carson

Chapter 3

The two weeks raced by. Klava heard from the letting agents that some Chinese tenants had been found for her house on the condition that they could stay for 12 months rather than the 6 she had initially hoped for. After careful consideration and considering that they hadn’t questioned the price she agreed. After all, if she didn’t want to remain in her new lowly paid status beyond the 6 months she initially planned she had money in the bank and was going to hide away enough means of accessing additional funds if need be. As much as she wanted to escape the trappings of wealth she wasn’t about to jump head first without some kind of parachute!

She had been in touch with the seedy Bill McDonald on behalf of her “cousin” Klava and had been able to provide enough documentation for her to be added to Andrews’s payroll. He had assured her that Klava would receive the minimum wage and that within a week she would have work at a university campus. Klava thanked him and felt relieved by the timing as this would give her a full week in her new flat to immerse herself completely in Klava’s new world.

Story: Klavdia Kuznetsova. Chapter 2.

by Violet Carson

Chapter 2

Two weeks had passed since the official sale of Andrews Facilities Management and Klava as she was forcing herself to believe she was again lay awake as the morning sun streamed through the curtains of her large bedroom. She had agreed to go into the office most days for the next two weeks to assist in the handover to the new owners and after that as far as they and her former employees were concerned she was returning to Russia for a few months to catch up with long lost family members. This would create enough of a cover for her to re-emerge as Klava the humble East European cleaner.

She looked around her room at the half packed boxes stacked ready for storage and the first items of her new down-market wardrobe.

At the weekend she had gone out wearing her oldest jeans, a cheap T-shirt and an old pair of trainers that she hadn’t worn in an age and visited one of London’s street markets that as Claudia she would never have even considered as a shopping destination.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Epilogue.

by Violet Carson

Epilogue – 3 Months Later

Annabelle looked at her reflection in the rear view mirror of her new Golf. She had thought of this moment for much of the last three months and it had finally arrived as she sat in the car park of Getaway Holidays as the workers drifted home at the end of this bright spring working day. When she arrived, the car park was largely full, but as it started to clear she had managed to move her car to a space very close to Andrzej’s Honda.

She had come a long way in just over three months since her accident. She had spent the first three days in a coma in hospital and had been described on the local news as an unidentified elderly lady who had been the victim of a mugging. Thankfully, both Jack and Jenny had heard of the incident and as she hadn't returned calls made their way to the hospital and from then on visited regularly. Jenny had told Annabelle’s now ex husband about the situation and once she’d regained consciousness, he had, after some persuasion paid to have her transferred to a private hospital where she had received the best possible care.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 19.

by Violet Carson

Part 19

We sat in the back of the taxi with Jack holding my hand as if he were a teenager on his first date. I don’t know why, but any sense of trepidation of what lay ahead of me had disappeared. I didn't know if it was the wine over dinner or if this was simply another logical step into my decent into my new life as Rose!

Jack spoke quietly close to my ear trying to give the situation a sense of intimacy that the taxi driver wouldn’t be able to overhear, but unfortunately due to Marj’s handiwork his sweet comments were largely lost on me. I occasionally looked up to catch the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror, not knowing if he was thinking how strange it was to see such elderly lovebirds whispering to each other, or if he’d spotted I was a fake and couldn’t stop himself from looking to check that his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Story: Klavdia Kuznetsova. Chapter 1.

by Violet Carson

Chapter 1

Claudia Andrews stared blankly at the screen of her laptop. It had been almost 6 months since her husband Dave Andrews had died suddenly of a heart attack aged just 53. At only 36 herself, she was now a relatively wealthy and very attractive business woman and widow. Many had viewed her as Dave’s “trophy wife” when they wed, knowing very little about her and what they could possibly have in common. In fact she had to admit that with her endlessly long legs and shoulder length expensively highlighted blonde hair, she ticked most of those boxes.

She day-dreamed the afternoon away, in between checking the odd email that flashed up on the screen and aimlessly staring out of her office window. She had told her PA: Sam to hold all her calls for the afternoon, for no particular reason other than she wanted time to think about how she was going to bring her undoubtedly insane plan into action and how much her life had changed since her teenage years growing up as Klavdia Kuznetsova an only child in post Communist Russia in Volgograd in the country’s south. She was always known as Klava, which had been a common girl's name on her mother’s side of the family. She had always hated it and when she settled in London changed it to the more international sounding Claudia.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 18.

by Violet Carson

My second date with Jack was now just two days away and I was more scared than I’d ever been as to whether I’d be found out and would he expect me to spend the night which he probably would and could I fake an orgasm as an old lady and even would I actually have to fake it! Also would he be able to manage it!

I finally got to the flat and on opening the door saw a rather large official looking envelope. I bent down carefully easing my bad back to pick it up,

It was addressed to Mrs. Annabelle Parsons {nee Edwards) from Sedgewick, Rowe & Smith who I knew were Mark’s solicitors, informing me that they had been instructed by Mr. Mark Parfitt to initiate divorce proceedings.

I stared at the letter for what seemed like an eternity as the tears ran down my face dripping on to the letter. I suppose it was inevitable after what I’d put Mark through that this would happen, but somehow the tragic reality of the situation still hurt immeasurably. A few months ago we’d been the perfect couple until I embarked on this crazy journey, “What had I been thinking and was my mother right all along that I must be having some kind of breakdown!”

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 17.

by Violet Carson

Part 17

It was Sunday afternoon and I need to get to getaway Holidays to complete my week’s work there. On arrival I was surprised to see Marj and of course she grabbed my arm and sat me down in her office demanding that I tell her all about my afternoon with Jack.

I told her how sweet he’d been and that he wanted to take me out again but I didn’t know how I could go along with it without hurting his feelings. We sipped our teas together whilst Marj explained quite firmly that I was to go out with him and be the doting partner that he so wanted and we would then see how things turned out and she was sure that the longer I stayed as Rose the more I’d start to think as her and find myself drawn even closer to Jack. After all she said how could someone who looked like me expect to attract a younger man and when I looked in the bathroom mirror after completing the indignity of cleaning the toilets I had to agree with her. There was no doubt that what stared back at me looked like a woman in her 60s. I just didn't know if that was what I wanted or not.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 16.

by Violet Carson

Part 16

I stood in the ladies toilet at Imperial Foods touching up my make-up after a long and tiring shift. This morning for the first time I’d gone to work wearing my curlers but as I had an appointment at the hair salon that afternoon decided not to remove them and go straight there. I’d worn an old floral headscarf tied under my chin on the way to work and had now replaced it with my hairnet for work. I couldn’t wait to have my hair done at the salon again. Sitting under the hairdryer with my curlers in was such a turn-on and I so wanted to look my best for my night out. But in the back of my mind was the constant nagging worry about the state of my insides, but I knew that I had to take the risk as Marj would not tolerate me letting Jack down. Although Marj seemed so friendly towards me I was beginning to think that maybe she was starting to dominate me in a similar but more slightly subtle way than Mark and Lucy. But what was I to know? I was just a cleaner and had to do what she said and take her advice.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 15.

by Violet Carson

My first morning at Imperial Foods had arrived. I had driven past the large old factory a number of times as AJ, but never for one moment had expected to be walking through the gates and going to reception as an employee.

At the main gate a rather smartly dressed security guard stopped me and asked who I was.

I gave him my name and was asked to sign his Visitors Book and he directed me to a side entrance where the cleaning and shop floor staff entered the building, not via the smarter main reception area that was used by management and visiting sales representatives. This was another successful downgrade I thought to myself. Why would a poor cleaner be entering via a main entrance. I was Rose not AJ.

I presented myself to a rather disinterested black girl at the small and battered staff reception desk. There were quite a few rather sad looking individuals sitting around who I soon learnt were people hoping for work on the shop-floor or as cleaners. They all seemed to be foreign immigrants of some description. I sat there hoping that I wouldn’t have any of the “little accidents” that I’d had recently and that my pants were secure or I’d probably lose my new job before it had even started!

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 14.

by Violet Carson

I returned exhausted from my evening shift to find the group of Africans sitting on the stairs as I made my way up towards my flat. They didn’t move out of the way and I fearfully had to squeeze in between them smelling the alcohol on their breath.

I was petrified and as I passed one said in a thick African accent.

“Hey lady, have you got any cigarettes?”

My mind raced: should I lie and say no or give him one.

I reached into my shoulder bag and said: “Yes, but I only have a couple for myself.”

“They’ll do,” he replied, snatching the half full packet from my hand and passing it amongst his friends. Amazingly he returned the packet with two remaining cigarettes to me.

I was so relieved that I’d actually got off so lightly. It had even crossed my mind that I might get raped, but I suppose I looked such a turn-off to a group of muscular young men that any such thoughts would have seemed repulsive to them.

Another worrying thought was that when they passed the packet around I thought to myself,

“Please don’t take them all. I’ll have none to smoke later!”

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 13.

by Violet Carson I realized that I needed to stop daydreaming and get on with some work, reminding myself that I was a cleaner and my new home needed some serious attention. I slipped on my housecoat over my old dress and got to work. Even now, after three months of this life, that sensation of pulling on the cheap polyester material still thrilled me. I spent over three hours on my hands and knees wiping the kitchen and bathroom floors and thoroughly cleaning the cooker and all the kitchen units. I don’t know when they were last cleaned, but they were filthy. I deliberately didn’t wear any rubber gloves as I was determined to accentuate the dry redness of my hands and further enhance the experience of pain and discomfort of the poor working woman that I’d become. At the end of my cleaning shift, both my knees and back were in absolute agony and it was a real struggle to stand up straight. Sometimes I did wonder why I was putting myself through this and compared the pain and resulting stimulation to some of my old and probably never to be repeated S&M sessions with Mark.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 12.

By Violet Carson

It took me ages to get to sleep as I tossed and turned fingering myself and almost bringing myself to a climax thinking of having sex as Rose, my life was becoming so surreal. Anyway, I must have finally dozed off as I woke with a start at 6.30 with my tinny alarm ringing like crazy. It dawned on me that I hadn’t packed many of my few possessions but also that I must have been quite drunk last night as I’d forgotten to put my curlers in and my hair was a disaster area which almost brought me to tears as my perm had looked so perfect the night before. I quickly put curlers in and covered my head with hairspray and a hairnet hoping to repair some of the damage.

I got dressed, slipping on a tabard and my flat shoes and started on breakfast for Mark and Lucy who must have returned sometime after me as I could see their door was closed. I now automatically thought of my old bedroom as their room

When they finally emerged, Lucy asked me if I’d packed and then admonished me when I said I hadn’t had time as she told me there was a taxi booked to take me at 11 and I had better hurry. I apologized and rushed back to my room to pack everything into my case, shopping trolley and a couple of large carrier bags that were in the cupboard under the stairs.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 11.

by Violet Carson

My mind raced as I sat down on the surprisingly empty train. It was so quiet that as the guard checked my ticket he made polite conversation about how much easier it was travelling on a Sunday and it dawned on me how readily I was now being accepted as Rose!

I desperately hoped that after I’d finished my shift, Mark would be home alone as I needed to have a serious talk with him. I needed to get him to understand that working for him was fine, but being at Lucy’s beck and call wasn’t and if he wanted to keep her, then I needed to move on with my life and for the time being at least that would be as Rose. I simply couldn’t comprehend pulling on my old silk underwear and designer clothes any longer. I wanted to disappear from my old life and emerge fully as Rose. I even thought such insane things as if I divorced him with my settlement, would I be able to find some crazy plastic surgeon to actually make me look older. But I quickly pushed those stupid ideas to the back of my mind. I wanted to look older and plain now, but did I really want to look like that for possibly up to another 50 years, probably not! However, somehow I felt I still wasn’t quite living as Rose would and that other than my sore back and knees from all my bending down and scrubbing floors was I genuinely experiencing life as a poor cleaner? The answer was obvious. No I wasn’t. But how exactly could I move this beyond the charade it sometimes appeared to be to really make this become my life?

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Parts 9-10.

by Violet Carson

Part 9

I returned home from my meeting with Jenny in a state of shock and abject fear. I had no idea what my parents would say when they found out that I’d lied to them about Dubai and no doubt they’d be absolutely perplexed and deeply hurt by my transformation intro Rose. They may even side with Mark, thinking I’d had some kind of breakdown and be very concerned for the state of my marriage. Clearly, some of those thoughts were even shared by me. In reality all of them were:

“Why was I so drawn to becoming Rose?” I asked myself. It was humiliating, frightening and degrading, but somehow I felt totally unable to break away from this person I’d created. It was as if she was completely replacing my own personality, thoughts and tastes with those of a downtrodden poorly educated old maid, and for some inexplicable reason, I was totally engrossed.

Mark returned from work, thankfully alone and I insisted he listen to my tale of what had unfolded with Jenny. I told him I expected my mother to be in touch at anytime and that we had to admit to her that we’d lied about Dubai.

My mind raced, could we say it was some kind of social experiment? Could we say I’d just had enough of my old work or it was some crazy bet? Would she buy any of it and was our marriage effectively over?

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Parts 7-8.

by Violet Carson

Part 7

A week later Mark approached me with an idea that had almost undoubtedly been driven by Lucy.

He had arranged for me to have an interview the following week with Dave Smith, MD of Office Sanitation. His firm cleaned all of Parfitt’s properties as well as many others. Mark didn’t tell me how much Mr. Smith knew about Rose, but he couldn’t afford to lose Parfitt’s as a client, so I’m sure the job, whatever it was, was going to be mine. This was a deeply worrying turn of events and one that I hadn’t seen coming at all. My plan had been to have some fun being subservient to Mark in our house, not to be a slave to that Chinese tart Lucy or be farmed out as a professional domestic!

Mark and Lucy had obviously spent sometime planning this over the past week, as he then presented me with a piece of paper that was Rose’s Resume and biography that I was to learn for the interview. I read it, completely dumbstruck by what they’d prepared.

My real date of birth was 28th July 1988, however Rose Edwards was born on the same day but in 1963, I was supposed to be 53. I knew I could probably be seen as a woman in her 40s as Rose, but 50s, no way! I protested to Mark but he reminded me that the contract I had signed said “place of work may change”, I assumed that was just something he’d copied from one of his work employment contracts. I never for one minute imagined it would be used. And then he said Zoe had agreed to come over the next day to help me prepare and that Lucy would be on hand as well, as she had “offered” to take the day off to support me.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Parts 4-6.

By Violet Carson Part 4

Day Two

I awoke at 6:45 to the sound of my tinny alarm and sat up in bed after a fitful night’s sleep with my mind racing as to what the next six months would hold. I got out of bed and looked at myself in the hideous dressing table mirror with my lank dark brown slightly greasy hair looking back at me. I wouldn’t have time for a shower, as I would need to get Mark’s breakfast ready for 7:15. After popping to the guest bathroom to clean my teeth and use the toilet I started to get changed.

I slipped off the dressing gown and unbuttoned the floral cotton nightie, catching site of my old slim body in the mirror. I pulled up the padded spanks and added the large cotton pants and ill-fitting bra. Like yesterday I pulled on the saggy tights and cotton slip before putting on a housecoat. I felt like a change, so I wore the pale green one and matching tabard and tried on the beige elasticated sandals for the first time. They might have looked disgusting but wow, were they comfortable; they were amazing; far more comfortable than any of my old £500 killer heels! I popped in the coloured contacts, added the glasses and quickly brushed my hair. That alone used to take me 5 minutes, now it was 30 seconds. There certainly were some advantages to being plain – comfort and speed. I didn’t put on any of the cheap makeup I’d been given, simply a quick squirt of the overly strong perfume, horribly floral not at all to my usual tastes, but probably very Rose, I thought to myself.

I was about to rush downstairs when I suddenly remembered my cigarettes. I lit one and took a few quick puffs before stubbing it out in the ashtray. I hoped Mark would notice the smell. I then hurried downstairs, all within 15 minutes of getting up, definitely a record.

Story: Annabelle's New Role

By Violet Carson

Let me introduce myself, I’m just over a month away from my 28th birthday, my name is Annabelle Jemima Parfitt (known as AJ to my friends) and I’ve been married to the gorgeous Mark for almost three years. We live in a four-bedroom detached house with a large garden and double-car garage in a beautiful English village just outside St. Albans, 30 minutes north of London. Despite the on-going protestations of Mark’s parents (his mother in particular) we have no plans to have any children in the near future.

I was born Annabelle Ophelia Edwards to two frightfully ambitious middle class parents, a bank manager and a school teacher who were simply desperate for me to make the most of life’s opportunities, hence the horrendously pretentious names I was given. They couldn’t afford to send me to a boarding school as much as they would have liked to, but I did go to a very good girl’s school outside Reading where I was brought up. In addition I studied piano to Grade 8 in addition to taking ballet lessons and having tennis coaching. I’m 5ft 7” tall with a slim toned figure, firm pert 34B breasts, long legs and slim athletic waist and have blond expensively highlighted wavy hair tumbles that go just over my shoulders My only obvious physical shortcoming is that unfortunately I’m rather short sighted but from the age of 18 onwards I have worn contact lenses which, if anything, make my eyes slightly larger in appearance and hence to most people, boys in particular more attractive.

I have to admit that all my parents support, hectoring, encouragement and hopes paid off as I was offered a place at one of Oxford University’s oldest colleges to study Classics which I passed with a 2.1 Honours degree.  However, this pales into significance when compared to my mother’s delight at my leaving university with the previously mentioned Mark as my by then long-term boyfriend.