Story: Mrs. Catherine Lucas. Chapter 9.

by Jackie J

With Pauline’s invite to dinner on her mind, Jacqueline was quite distracted at the charity event she was attending that afternoon.  Jacqueline had already told the organisers that she would not be able to stay for the auction and it was already approaching five and she had been told to have Cathy at Pauline’s for six.

Having left a promissory note for two thousand dollars Jacqueline made her way to the parking lot and nervously awaited the valet to bring her car, repeatedly looking at the Rolex of Catherine’s she now wore.

Speeding her way back home Jacqueline raced up the driveway screeching to a halt and hurrying inside.

If Jacqueline had an anxious afternoon Catherine was a nervous wreck. She would have to venture outside, walk the hundred yards or so from her driveway to the entrance to her neighbour’s home. Not strutting in her heels and designer dress with her head held high and blonde locks flowing in the breeze. No she would be scurrying in heavy low heels, swathed in her bulky shapeless maid’s dress, an apron tied around her waist, her head low, a maid’s cap upon her low-rent brown bob wig.

Elle Mistress-And-Maid Photo Shoot From The 1980s

This one has been sitting on my hard drive for many years. I believe it is from Elle magazine in the early-to-mid 1980s, but I was unable to locate the exact issue so if anyone knows please let me know. I only have five photos from probably bigger the set. The uniforms are quite unusual, but I still think it's worth adding to my collection if only to make it complete.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 26-27.

By BigBird74

26.

Trapped! That was the one word that kept revolving around the inside of my head. Trapped! Despite the new dynamic rocking my world, the manageress’ office had felt like something of a sanctuary, a curious feeling given what had just happened. The last ten minutes had seemed like a blur and, as I stepped gingerly along the corridor towards the staff lifts, I tried to review the events in my head. I listed what I did know: she knew I was Katherine Webb; she knew I had made up the identity I was now inhabiting. But, then, what else could she know for sure? Oddly enough, despite what I had considered my meticulous planning, I had not really thought long about being caught, the consequences of which had just seemed too awful to bear.

As per usual, my overactive imagination seized on several potentially dire outcomes. I could end up in jail, for fraud! I would be ruined in the press! My family might disown me! I would lose my inheritance! Would the manageress blackmail me? My mind flitted from one possibility to the next, driving my anxieties to a level I had not previously experienced. I felt like I might keel over.

Pausing in the corridor to steady myself against the wall, I tried to clear the clutter from my mind. I was trapped yes, but only because of one person. It must be possible to find a way to contain this. In front of me was the staff elevator. I reached out and pressed the button summoning the lift. Again my hands were shaking. I found myself waiting again. That thought “it must be possible to contain this” had opened a dark room inside my head. I peered inside: could I somehow kill her? Dispose of the problem that way? I shuddered and closed my eyes. I knew that most killings are caused through desperation and, for a moment, the thought lingered. Bing! The lift arrived and felt sick as I stepped inside and sent the elevator up to the fifth floor.

Story: Mrs. Catherine Lucas. Chapter 8.

by Jackie J

With Cathy dismissed to the kitchen by a smirking Jacqueline, Pauline and Camille did not linger long at the table. Pauline had seen what she wanted to see having witnessed the uncomfortable truth of her neighbour, Catherine Lucas, happy to accept the role of a maid within her own home.

Jacqueline, Pauline and Camille retired to the lounge whilst Cathy cleaned and tided away the debris in the kitchen.

Sat on the comfortable sofa, Pauline pulled a phone from her purse and played back the recording of Catherine Lucas confirming her role as a maid.

“Well, Jackie, that was pretty convincing. Or should I call you Jacqueline now?”

Jacqueline smiled and poured drinks.

Caption: Summer Rental.

Translated by T. H. Enerdly

This is a caption I found years ago on a now defunct French Yahoo Group. I referred to it in the comments section of the recent Olivia Holt posting and thought that at least some readers might like seeing it. It helps to know that in France, everyone with the means takes their vacation in August.

T. H. Enerdly

***

Hermine knows the house, the one in which she serves as a maid, like the back of her hand. After all, it's hers.

During summer vacation season, she lists it with a rental agency, the rental fee including the wages of a live-in maid. With the tacit consent of the rental agency, Hermine plays the role of the maid, thus putting her at the service of the renters. In this way, she could be certain that she was no the longer the mistress of the house but the one who wore the uniform of a maid.

Unexpectedly, her most recent renters asked her if she wanted to leave her “dump” for Paris.

“It's so difficult to find good help!”

Will Hermine’s summertime lark become permanent? Will become the servant of a couple of musicians and their 16-year-old daughter? Will she quit her job as a pharmacist to become a maid? And if she does, what will she say to her coworkers? And what will she say to her maid when the latter returns from her vacation?

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Story: Mrs. Catherine Lucas. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

With Pauline, the next door neighbour, invited to have dinner Cathy busied herself in the kitchen. Catherine Lucas had entertained Pauline many times previously but this evening it would be very different. She would not be joining Pauline at the table, maid Cathy would be serving dinner and waiting on table for her maid, her Mistress and her guest Miss Crabtree.

Whilst Cathy was occupied in the kitchen Jacqueline was at the computer. With access to the Lucas accounts she wasted no time in draining these accounts and swelling her own. Jacqueline had already transferred significant amounts and with the last of the savings bonds now siphoned off and squirreled away Catherine Lucas, although she was oblivious, was truly broke. The cancelling of direct debits and standing orders, in the main to Catherine Lucas’s stylist, salon, tennis and country club and the Spa would bear testament to the lies that Jacqueline had been spreading about Catherine Lucas’s financial situation.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 24-25.

by BigBird74

24.

Waiting can be tortuous at any time, but at a moment like this it was truly agonising. Okay, I had never liked waiting for anything. My privileged status in life meant that I was usually able to buy my way past queues. This, in turn, had bred a sense of exceptionalism into me: I did not wait for anything. So to find myself here waiting like a naughty schoolgirl for the headmistress felt so wrong. What was also wrong was the way that I grew more and more aroused as people passed by and knew I was in trouble. I felt about an inch tall as they passed by and smirked at the underdressed maid.

I was now regretting the order Katherine had put in for these wretched uniforms. They did very little to cover me and I felt exposed, my darkened skin so clearly visible underneath the cut of the dress. Tugging down on the hem provided no relief and only served to pull the dress further down my cleavage. This left just one option: to cower in the corridor like a shrinking violet, slightly bent over to help mitigate my exposure to those passing by. More time ticked by and then I remembered something that shook me to my very core. My phone! Oh god, I had left it in the changing room in amongst my other uniform! Abandoning my wait, I set off back towards the maid room, hurrying along the corridor.

“Where do you think you are going?” I turned to see the manageress glowering at me. “I said wait by my office, which is that way!” She pointed back along the passage to where I had just come from.

“Sorree. I remember I no have phone with me. I want to get it from my room”

The manageress looked impatient and smug in equal measure. She held up a plastic carrier bag.

“I think you will find what you are looking for in here.” I took a few steps towards her and raised my arm to take it from her. In those halting movements, our eyes again met. Mine searching for clues as to what she knew, trying to divine her purpose in all this. Hers a classic lesson in drawing a poker face. She held all the cards at that moment, whether or not she appreciated this.

She released the bag into my hand and I took it. As I did, I saw my arm shake, a tremor of fear and angst rippling throughout my body. She remained totally silent as I peered into the bag and saw my old uniform, but no phone. I rifled through the bag. It had to be here. That phone was my portal back to my old world!