Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 8-9.

by Jackie J

Chapter 8

Five months had passed since they had first set sail and clearing the docks the party of Lady Drake hugged. It had not been the most pleasant of sailings for the last part of their journey home, but they were all save on dry land now. Lady Drake had business to attend in London with the banks and bid farewell to her travelling companions, Lord and Lady Stokes and the company accountant, Cecil Browning.

Deeds and share certificates needed to be deposited at the bank and Gwendoline was anxious to know what carnage her profligate step- daughter had caused with the family finances whilst she had been away. Leaving the bank, Gwendoline retained a degree of disbelief and smiled, deposits outweighed withdrawals, by a considerable amount. Spending had been rather frugal. A large withdrawal two days after she left but not excessive and a similar amount two days ago, but the rest of the withdrawals, small amounts in line with the household budgets Mrs Dillon ran. Hardly anything, in fact nothing from the salons, drapers, jewellers, high end fashion houses, café’s, travel? How extraordinary she thought? Lady Drake had expected to be met by the debris left by a tsunami of Caroline’s reckless spending but nothing, nothing at all.

Her letters had not been answered, not that she expected them to be, she had been travelling extensively around her late husband’s global interests and it could be that mail got lost or is still following her trail. Two weeks spent in London with her friend, in contrast to the hustle and bustle of her travel, allowed her to relax and prepare for her return to Longwater. Cecil Browning had agreed to escort Lady Drake from London to her estate and duly arrived promptly. 

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 6-7.

by Jackie J

Chapter 6

A lathered steaming horse, with its saddle removed, edged into its stall and a long- cloaked figure headed into the rear entrance of Clegg Hall. Breathless from a hard five- mile ride Abigail stripped off her boots, jacket and jodhpurs and thrust herself under the sheets of her bed. She knew Caroline was at Longwater, she just knew she was. Having grown up with Caroline and spent many days at Longwater she knew the manor intimately, every entrance and passage. Games of hide and seek with Caroline, over their younger years, leaving little of Longwater manor unexplored.

The adrenalin, that had driven her back to Clegg Hall, dissipating in her system Abigail laid on her bed staring up at the ceiling, her eyes filled with questioning worry. What to do, who to tell? What was she doing, is doing? Bella? Bella, that was Caroline and no mistake. Her hair was short, very short and wearing a maid’s uniform? she was scrubbing the hallway, actually down on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor?  And that other maid, shouting at her? Caroline’s voice, squeaky and the way she spoke? Oh, my goodness, what has happened to her? Abigail could not help but nervously chuckle to herself. Caroline Drake of all people, a maid? She should have done something, said something, but what? 

Having found her way unseen to Caroline’s rooms, hoping to find her there, she had heard a raised voice on the ground floor. Creeping to the end of the landing and stood at the top of the stairs she had peered down and that is when she saw what she had. Abigail had stood transfixed by the spectacle below, Caroline Drake in a maid’s uniform, a Longwater manor maid’s uniform, scrubbing the hallway tiles being berated, and called Bella, by a common maid. Begging the maid in a strange squeaky voice not to tell Mrs Dillon, her own housekeeper, that she had tipped her bucket? Hearing more voices, and fearful of being discovered, Abigail had hidden and waited for what seemed an age before climbing back out of the window through which she had entered Longwater. Confused, angry, perplexed it was now dark and Abigail having walked her horse stealthily through the back bushes jumped on its back and rode like the wind into the night.

Captions Sunday!

I’ve been accused of many things, none of them are true; but my career in medicine is gone. Well, not totally gone...I guess I’m technically still in the medical field... 

I researched ways to combat and reduce the severity of the COVID virus. I NEVER claimed—ever—to have a CURE. What I researched, tested, and discovered was a suite of nutrients, and substances naturally occuring in the body that not only made you healthier, but reduced the SYMPTOMS of COVID until you never even feel sick at all. Yes, you’ll still NEED a vaccine, you still need to quarantine, but not only would the virus NOT KILL YOU, but you would barely feel ill! 

I had six months worth of double-blind testing! The results I got were NOT FAKE! But I think, on instruction from pharmaceutical corporation higher-ups (I will never be able to prove this), I was thrown into enforced quarantine-isolation for one month, I was officially declared “Deceased from COVID-19” and I have only been allowed back into the world of regular community and commerce if I accepted the latest form of “COVID Passport” which overrides the life and identity I’ve had for sixty years—even down to replacing my Social Security Number! No longer able to research scientific AND innovative ways to make people healthy, no longer the peer of my former hospital and university colleagues, no longer equal to the most skilled surgeons, I have been reduced to being a scrub in a hospital!

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 4-5.

by Jackie J

Chapter 4

The first four weeks of Miss Caroline’s re-education were predicably harsh, brutal, demeaning and both humbling and humiliating. A snap of Miss Caroline’s fingers and a scowl had provided for her every whim now she begged for the most basic of her needs, all her needs.

Much to the amusement of Miss Prentice Jenny had not tired of the bullying of her once Mistress and dressing her in her frilly juvenile attire. The use of the cane and strap had become less frequent over time just its threat and harsh words now bringing total compliance to the accepted rituals of her childlike existence within the confines of Longwater manor. Such had been the brutalisation of Miss Caroline just a glare from Miss Prentice bringing an instant cowering, head lowered curtsy, from Bella. Yes Bella, a name chosen by Miss Prentice to be more fitting and one that had been, and continued to be, ingrained into the increasing fragile mind and nervous confused persona of Miss Caroline Drake, the once would be Mistress of Longwater manor.

Three weeks into Miss Caroline’s torment, Miss Prentice, satisfied the surly madame was compliant, began the next stage of her scheme. Dressed as always, in her pretty frills, her hair in ribboned pigtails Bella was sat at the desk Miss Prentice had prepared in one of the rooms on the top floor of the manor.

Instructed to, and holding out her left hand, Bella sighed with relief when her Mistress worked open the strapping on her wrist and tugged free the false hand. The bruising and swelling from her dislocated thumb had gone but the prime disfigured digit sat awkward across her palm.

Captions Sunday!

I was born in Oakland, California, but you wouldn’t know that, if you saw how my family has been treated for the last three years. Being Asian and a woman I thought the “Glass Ceiling” was obstacle enough.

Now, being Asian is an Occupational Hazard, and being an Asian Woman means regressive types target you—literally target you with guns—as CARRIERS OF DISEASE!

I was also an executive in the hotel business, but you wouldn’t know that to look at me now, either.

A general who doesn’t visit the front lines never gets the real news. One of our hotels, in a city I’ve never visited, had morale problems. They sure “smelled” like morale problems: compared to our other hotels, average length of employment was less than seven months! Our other hotels average three years! I’m no general, but time for this officer to visit the battlefield! Unlike most of my colleagues I’m willing to get dirty to “dig up the dirt”! I hired on as a housecleaner—yes, to avoid detection I actually took the job—and found out quickly what the problem was.

The reason morale was down, was because—I won’t soften the blow—the manager of this branch was a racist jerk, and he thought the Asian housekeepers under him were....unclean!

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapter 56.

by BigBird74

56.

Katherine had worked long into the night preparing the reception room for Dahlia’s big press conference. Carefully chosen flowers lined the sides of the room, placed strategically so they would show up clearly behind where Dahlia would sit. Katherine had always believed that, with sufficient care and attention paid to surroundings, it was possible to sway the sympathies of those in attendance. Her job had been made easier by the fact that Dahlia was looking her very best. After all, the public likes beautiful people. Katherine could only marvel at how trim and perfectly turned out Dahlia was after all those months recovering from her ‘breakdown.’ That word – breakdown – had been carefully selected by Tommy, again, to elicit a large dollop of sympathy. Drug use was still a complicated issue as far as public opinion was concerned, with a wide range of opinions, from those likely to have also indulged in the forbidden to those whose moral compass would never permit such abandon. Katherine knew, in our age of constant media, that playing the victim card would be best. It was therefore crucial that everything about the event played its part in conveying such an image.

It did not help that the cleaner seemed to be distracted, her mind clearly elsewhere. More than twice, Katherine had caught ‘Petra’ staring at the podium that was to elevate Dahlia back to her former glory, deep in thought. She had brushed off the fat slob’s excuses and firmly reminded her that the hallway and reception room must be spotless by 11am when the various guests were to arrive. It was only after the third time of telling that something finally shifted inside of ‘Petra’ and the next time Katherine checked on her, she was busy mopping the marble floor.

Checking her watch, Katherine could see that Tommy was due to arrive at any moment. Of the many men in her life, Tommy was, by far, the one she cared for most. Their relationship was purely platonic, but grounded on a real affection formed over many years of working together. Tommy had always looked out for Katherine and sent various projects her way. But Dahlia was something special. Until the ‘incident’, she had been Tommy’s prized client and he was understandably nervous about where he stood with her. Now, given what amounted to a second chance, he wanted nothing to go wrong and had asked Katherine, as a safe pair of hands, to take the job of assisting Dahlia.

Story: Severe Housecleaning Vacation.

by Dolores Azul

Social downgrade has one great boon, and another huge downside. The great boon is: if you are the sort of person who needs it, who craves it, it keeps you vital, young, and alive! I almost pity my fellow executives who age so quickly because they are fighting so hard, every day, to stay On Top of Things. If those “things” they stay “on top of” are 5G cell phones, they're 5G cell phones; if “those things” are multi-level marketing of Non-Fungible-Objects—that’s what you have to focus on, Brother! Move it, move it!

No, I’m not saying I don’t pay attention—or can’t keep up! I’m saying I have (or, I HAD) a way to de-stress, that my colleagues....don’t. But it does have a downside: you need increasing doses of social downgrade to get you the same “high” you got when you first found out What You Are. Sometimes the dose you end up taking is so big that you can’t climb back out! I knew I was taking LOTS of risks, but I thought I covered everything. 

Well, no...I didn’t.