Lucy touched her lightly on the wrist. ‘I know it’s not your day to clean for me Julie, but could you pop over this afternoon, say about three? Or will that be too late for you?’
‘No problem. Pete’s on mornings this week. He should be around when Becky comes home from work.’
‘When’s she off to university?’
‘Next Tuesday. This is her last week at the supermarket. I don’t think she’s enjoyed stacking shelves very much, but she needs the money.’
‘Don’t we all.’
Julie though that a bit rich coming from someone who seemed to have everything she could possibly desire. She bit her lip and asked if she would like her to clean today instead of tomorrow. Lucy smiled.
‘No, this afternoon is business. We need to discuss what we’re going to do with ProClean. I have plans and I very much want you to be part of them.’ She squeezed Julie’s hand and leant towards her. Julie felt her moist lips brush lightly across her cheeks to plant a soft kiss, on the side of her mouth. She automatically turned her face and Lucy repeated the kiss, full on her lips. She looked into Julie’s eyes as she pulled away and introduced a light laugh into her voice. ‘So I don’t expect to see you wearing your cleaning overall. Come in something casual and we’ll chat things through over a cup of tea, or perhaps a glass of vino?
‘Whatever suits you,’ whispered Julie. Lucy opened the door and with a smile and a brief wave, walked briskly towards the grand entrance of the apartments. Julie watched as Charlie donned his royal blue, gold trimmed cap and came out from behind his desk to walk in measured strides across the hall. He repeated this routine every morning without fail, timing his arrival to perfection and opening the door as she set foot on the top step. He smiled and saluted. It seemed strange for someone so impeccably turned out to salute a cleaning lady, but Charlie Bell knew which side his bread was buttered. The penthouse covered the whole of the fifth floor, an area four times the size of any of the other sixteen apartments in his care, if you included the roof garden which went with the penthouse. Through the service charge, Lucinda Lovebrace was responsible for one fifth of his wages.
Julie checked her face in the mirror. Had she blushed when Lucy kissed her? There was no noticeable evidence but the pleasant tingling sensation she had felt between her thighs lingered on. Lucy could not be interested in her in that sort of way, could she? Julie remembered sleeping with Rosemary, a cousin, when she was barely thirteen and Rosemary a few months older. It was the accepted practice for them to share the same bed whenever the families got together, but they were blossoming into young woman and very much aware of the changes taking place in their bodies. Before putting on their pyjamas they had compared breasts and innocently kissed and touched each other. Julie had felt that same warm, prickly sensation then and although nothing else had happened, she dreaded that she could be gay and never shared a bed with Rosemary again.
Rosemary, lost her virginity when she was fifteen and judging by the number of boyfriends she subsequently enjoyed, was definitely straight. Julie, on the other hand, was not interested in boys, convincing herself that she was waiting for the right man to come along. As if to prove the point, she gravitated towards social functions at the Rugby Club. She was a radiant, rather than pretty young woman and when she married Peter Bunford, considered by all the girls who were chasing him, to be the most handsome hunk at the Rugby Club, everyone said they made a wonderful couple. She even believed it herself. She loved his masculinity, and that she had snatched him away from so many others. Of course, she had led him on to believe she would be hot stuff in bed. But, to be fair to herself, she really had no idea she would hate sex. For the sake of their marriage and because she wanted a child, she carried through with the pretence and counted herself very fortunate to get pregnant so quickly. Almost too quickly! Her competitors were counting the months hoping for proof of a shotgun wedding. She never had achieved an orgasm; she was simply not a sexual person and accepted that. Being married, having a child and being seen to be normal was all that really mattered. Yet, now she was having her doubts. She had become very attached to Lucy who she admired tremendously. Lucy was a successful, beautiful woman who obviously loved men and enjoyed sex. From what she had seen of her goings on, she could even be a nymphomaniac. Julie sighed, the kiss happened by chance. Lucy was all woman and she certainly would not think of her in a sexual way.
The van grumbled along in first gear as she drove out through the stone pillared exit and turned right onto Laburnham Grove. She waved to the paper girl she saw every weekday morning, rain or shine. Her heavily laden bike wobbled as she waved back. She was an attractive girl with long brown hair and very good legs. Julie looked in the rear view mirror to watch as she stopped by a mail delivery box and push her left foot against the wall to hold the bike upright. Her skirt rode up her thigh as she struggled to ram the newspaper into the box. The van juddered; she had unconsciously lifted her foot off the accelerator as she watched the girl. She changed gear, pressed down on the accelerator and the van progressed smoothly. When she glanced in the rear view mirror again, the girl was over two hundred yards away, peddling furiously towards her next delivery. A Pretty girl; a young woman really. Julie always looked at young women but convinced herself it was from an aesthetic point of view. There was nothing sexual in that was there?
Charlie Bell opened the door and touched his cap to greet his favourite resident.
‘Morning Miss Lovebrace.’
‘Good morning Charlie. Has the post arrived?’
‘No, not yet. Probably be after ten – as usual.’
‘That’s really not good enough Charlie.’
‘I know, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it. I have been onto the post office as you suggested. And I’ve driven over to the sorting office to speak to them about it.’
‘Is that the place on the Trading Estate?’
‘That’s the one. It’s near the Meltcon factory, they told me deliveries are late because our postman delivers to the outlying villages on this side of town and the route is down to him.’
‘I’ll have a word. What’s his name?’
‘Dudley – Dudley Wink.’
The name registered immediately, as well it should. His actions had almost destroyed her main business, but she pretended not to recognise the name.
‘Could I have heard of him before?’
‘Possibly, he runs the Hamsworth Town Photographic Club. He’s quite well known for his wildlife photography. Had some pictures of a fox and her cubs in the local paper not so long ago.’
Lucinda Lovebrace was already hatching a plan. She had a need for a good photographer and a bit of sport with Dudley Wink could be amusing.
‘See if you can get him to pop up and see me when he arrives, I’m working from home all day today.’
‘Consider it done, Miss Lovebrace.’
Charlie certainly would get it done. Miss Lovebrace was extremely generous at Christmas, and not averse to slipping a fifty pound note into his hand at other times. Take your wife out for a little treat, she would say, giving him a wink. Class act was Miss Lovebrace, it was well worth looking after her and turning a blind eye to all the comings and goings.
There were three lifts in the building. A service lift for all floors, accessible through the tradesmans’ entrance at the rear of the building and two passenger lifts in the lobby, one designated solely for the penthouse. Her lift was ready and waiting. He reached in, pressed the button for her and touched the peak of his cap as the doors closed.
The lift opened onto a large, plush carpeted hallway. Four sumptuous leather chairs were arranged around a rich mahogany coffee table, with a bright red telephone sitting incongruously in the middle. Entrance to the penthouse could only be gained by speaking to someone inside via the telephone, or through palm recognition. Lucy pressed her hand against a pad next to the stout hardwood door. The heavy door slid quietly to one side and she stepped through into a small hallway. The door quietly closed behind her as she took three strides across the hallway and pressed her hand against another pad. A second door, swung open to let her enter into a corridor with an open door directly opposite. Ignoring that she turned right and strode briskly along the corridor undoing the buttons down the front her overall as she went. The corridor circled the penthouse, passing several doors before reaching her office, which looked out across fields towards Lippinston. It was a view she usually stopped to admire, but she was in a hurry. She took a disk from the right hand pocket of the overall and placed it next to the computer before moving swiftly into the main bedroom on the other side of the corridor. She posed in front of one of the many mirrors. This was the last time she would wear the overall, ProClean had served its purpose. All the information her
