Chapter 10: Hiring Housekeepers

CHUCK

The thoughts of Madame Grenouille were still running in my head. I departed with a sense of well-being that I was on the right track and as Castor, my powerful horse, ambled along at a slow walk it gave me time to consider things. It came to me that THEY were telling me something, I was doing was OK and I was to stop getting perturbed. Just go along with my feelings this afternoon, enjoy myself, THEY have our best interests at heart.

It was a more relaxed me who dismounted and had one of the girls take Castor off to a loosebox.

I was not the only guardian or, as one rather obnoxious character put it, 'buyer' who was present. I tried not to react by disclosing my real feelings of the way I resented the attitude towards young ladies, as if they were to be bought and their worth measured in nothing but a few credits.

First, I was introduced to a charming, elderly man who looked a bit flummoxed and referred to a crib sheet as to how to process the hiring of his graduates. "Gates is the name, and I'll open access to anything within my power," he declared, making a play on his name. He had obviously done so many times in his life before.

"I arrived here early morning and asked if there were any jobs for an old reprobate like myself and the City Fathers have thrown me in the deep end, one of the busiest days of the year. And you are?" He referred to a long list in his hand.

I almost made some stupid remark but instead said, "People call me Chuck, I'm eighteen and..."

"Mucky Chuck?" he interrupted.

I could see I was going to keep that name for life.

"Aha, we know about you. You've paid your fees direct to the Treasury, but I have no idea how many housekeepers you want."

"Just the one," I thought one would be enough. I'd not relish the idea of having my life run by TWO females. Heaven forbid! Anyhow, I wasn't too keen on the idea of having two women. Why did I have to conjure up an image of Mom's censuring gaze at that precise moment? I had no intention of having more than one companion. Yep, I still felt guilty having Beth and what she did. I had a dammed complicated life.

The fact that I only wanted one appeared to put him out a bit, but he responded, "I suggest you have word with any or all of the girls you have an eye on. Er," he lowered his voice, "If there are any that truly interest you more than others, let me know now. As a trustee of the orphanage you DO have precedence, but I can't give you a girl after someone else has contracted for her."

A trustee of the orphanage? I said nothing but as he fiddled with the documentation I found a sealed letter of appointment in my hand, setting out that I was entrusted with having a roving oversight of the establishment because of my sterling services in protecting the good name of the orphanage and its members and also for my services in protecting the fabric of the buildings.

It crossed my mind, were the Fathers trying to get away with a cheap maintenance scheme? Oh, no, I was entitled to a further two thousand credits per annum. Was this what had been referred to?

I immediately made known my interest in Amina. It would be a pity at this stage, as the place was starting to get busy, if I lost her at the last moment.

Seen close up, she was much smaller than I thought. My own height had originally been five nine but on rejuvenation was now four inches taller, not big by local standards where most Frontiersmen topped me by a further few inches at least. She was some five feet four inches, smaller than any of the others.

"I hope you don't dislike midgets," I heard one of the crones mutter as she delivered the coffee-skinned girl into my presence.

Was this my day for getting angry at people?

"Come back here," I snarled. I'd never found it easy at school, and comments like that from an ostensible member of the staff were unacceptable. I never had liked any of the sour-faced women who ran the day to day matters here. I glared at her, "I'll be learning your name for when I, as a trustee of this establishment, inspect your progress. I'll not have you using such derogatory language about any of our charges. Treat them with respect."

That had little effect on her, in fact she threw her head back and refused to answer me, instead she adopted a superior attitude so I really let fly, "The 'midget' to whom you refer to is no malformed circus act but a respectable young lady whom, I may well take as a housekeeper. I'll not have you talking like that. This reputable woman may well bear me some children and I'll not have you slandering my own offspring as being born of a mutant. Learn some manners, Woman, if you want to continue in your post. Perhaps you'd be better suited to hewing stone in my quarry. I have need of a few hands there, where their coarse language is unimportant."

Having vented my spleen, I whirled away, not waiting to see the effects of my tirade. I was aware that a deathly silence had broken out, but ignored the atmosphere I had created. I settled down to the serious matter in hand.

The idea was that we could interview our chosen housekeepers in the refectory. The refectory, I discovered, was just a posh* word for the eating room. I understood that it was also used at times when the whole orphanage was drawn together for the dissemination of information and various meetings.

It was quite clear when my young coffee-coloured girl was brought in that she was very conscious of her height. The first thing she said was, "Are you sure you want to speak to me? I'm only five feet four inches tall?"

That wasn't much smaller than the average height of most western women. I considered that perhaps she had always been small, pre-regeneration that is. Gymnasts were renowned for their tiny size as having a better power to weight ratio. Here, she was undoubtedly smaller than others, but I had never regarded her height as an abnormality.

Thinking about it, I considered the fact that, probably around here, anything less than five foot six was in fact quite small for a female. Perhaps it wasn't unusual that other people, as I had done, had grown taller on being rejuvenated.

I was intrigued to consider that if I had ever been asked for my ideal partner, I'd have suggested that a tall blonde would have fit the bill perfectly! It just shows how little you know about yourself.

Still mulling these matters over, I was a little short with Amina, "I certainly shall want to talk to you if you're going to complain about your height. I just caught sight of you, and what I can see under the bonnet is a very pretty face." I knew a lot more about what was going on under her outer clothes than she could imagine.

She was quite lacking in confidence, "Nobody has asked to see me before. I'm not sure what I have to do."

"You have to do? You have to do nothing at all. I simply want a few words with you to see whether we could get on all right together, you in the kitchen and..."

"Are you, are you the mucky builder? You haven't got a beard." I was taken aback that she interrupted me. I think making the interjection caught her by surprise as much as it did me.

"Oh, yes, I am Chuck, the mucky builder. I'm not sure that I like that name, but that's what people know me as."

Her apologies were a little bit over the top for using the disliked nickname. I had to put a stop to excessive apologies straightaway. I could see why THEY prefer the women to be subservient to the men. But I wasn't sure that I liked this kowtowing to me. Thinking about it, I would prefer my housekeeper to do as I asked, but I didn't want her apologising for every little thing that she did wrong just because she felt that she was inferior.

I saw Mom's influence here, 'women were should be treated as equals'.

Maybe, but maybe not, in this environment? There was a real need for the traditional skills of an adventurous thinking - outside the box, almost aggressive but certainly independent man at this stage of the development of our society. I knew well that these were many so-called male characteristics. I surprised myself by considering that I was probably describing the character traits of Madame rather than myself! It almost frightened me to come to the realisation that my own attitudes were moderating. Moderating? I was getting more macho. And I realised there was a fine line between the adventurous spirit of a true Frontiersman and the qualities needed for THEIR perfect society.

Had THEY dropped a clanger here?

I shook my head and devoted my attention to the young woman. She might only have just been fifteen but she had a sensible head on her shoulders. I suppose it was because I had been around here for some time but she was no child in my eyes, perhaps the penguin dress helped to make her appear more mature?

At the back of my mind I was still aware of the fact that she had already lived for a total of about twenty-four years! That put a new perspective on things. Yet her attitude was that expected of a sensible teenager who was brought up to behave.

It took half an hour to actually draw Amita out into conversation. We finally started to gel when I enquired about food and what she liked to cook. Obviously she had been taught the fundamentals in the orphanage and took her turn in the kitchens turning out everyday meat and vegetable basics.

Although she had no idea why, she did say that she knew all about Indian cuisine, curries and the like. "I like cooking Italian too, tomato and pasta," she added, attributing her restaurant experience to working as a kitchen hand before she was recruited as an orphan. "And of course I imagine that you would like a good steak. I cook a mean steak and can prepare a number of different sauces, Dijon, peppercorn, blue Stilton, wild mushroom, garlic, and you must try my rhubarb sauce."

"No, really," she protested at my reaction. "Everyone who's tasted it wants it again and again, the pungency of the rhubarb just contrasts with a rare piece of meat." Her cosmopolitan cuisine obviously originated from her days in her parents' restaurant. She was already making my mouth water, but rhubarb sauce! No!

I never pressed her on when she had had the opportunity to prepare the dish. I'm sure her 'memory' would have come up with an apt response that was perfectly reasonable.

"That sounds good," I agreed, though not with rhubarb sauce, "As a housekeeper in my homestead you would have other duties to carry out too. I live a few miles out of Hartglade, and I'd probably want some chickens and ducks looked after. I have one horse at the present, Castor, and a buggy that he'll pull when asked. I can see that if I were off to work early in the morning, you would need another horse to go in to fetch fresh groceries, bread and the like from Hartglade. Can you saddle a horse, can you harness up a horse and buggy?"

"I thought you knew, we are trained for all those things. The orphanage insists that we can look after small animals, and of course each of us has experienced all aspects of stable work."

She thought carefully for a few minutes about how she could contribute to my homestead and then added, "The orphanage provides kits for a herb garden. They are overpriced cuttings but they have wide selection for the price, as they include some things that aren't easily found at a seed merchant's store. Do you want me to get a selection?" I could see she was nervous for some reason.

"You want to?"

"Yes, there are some spices a little more exotic in the selection. I put them into what you call 'curries', they give off very different flavours."

There was some hesitation.

"Yes?"

"Some of the best flavoured spices do need to be grown under glass in our climate."

I began to understand, many guardians would find the cost of even a tiny glass frame quite unacceptable. "I'm sure that something can be sorted out."

She was pleased I had no problems with this, "But I think we'll have so much to do for the next couple of days. Can we leave that for a week or so?" I considered there were more pressing things to get on with at the homestead.

I finally decided to ask her, "You have spoken to me for a few minutes now, are there any questions you want to ask me? I do think you and I would be able to live together. There is one thing, though, I don't think I'd like to ask you to come with me unless of course you wanted to. I want you to ask yourself whether you would like to be my housekeeper or not."

That flummoxed her. She explained why, "I'm really surprised. I didn't think it was up to us. We are expected to take the first offer that's given to us."

Personally, I wasn't sure that was a good idea but then, I knew that once she was 'latched' that would solve any reservations she would have held. Glossing over her failure to give a direct reply, I simply asked if she yet had any more questions.

There was one, but she was very reticent about asking me.

"Come on, tell me what you want to know?"

"It's difficult. I'm not so sure whether..."

This type of thing always annoyed me, someone failing to come out with a direct statement or question, "I'm not sure whether I can answer the question or not. But you must ask it first. If you are wondering, I'm not going to criticise you for asking any question, go ahead and ask me, anything at all."

"It's just that," she was still hesitant, "what's with the other housekeepers who took up work a few months ago? Many of them are ... a lot of them are pregnant."

I wasn't aware that the orphanage girls were aware of that fact. What could I say? "I don't think it's unusual, girls of your age are at the height of their fertility, they make love, they end up pregnant, it's a fact of life." What a blasé answer to give!

She came out with it, "What I mean to say is, I think that they are sleeping with their guardians."

I almost said, who else is there for them to sleep with? Instead I simply responded, "I should imagine they are sleeping with them, but it's obvious that they are doing a little more than sleeping in bed."

"That's what I mean. Would I be expected to sleep with you?"

That was just not one of the questions that I was expecting. I'd been led to believe that just did not happen, her even being perceptive enough to see orphans were quickly becoming mothers, was not what I had been warned of.

There was only one way to answer it, "I think when you're fully aware of how things are moving on the frontier, you'll understand that most, if not all of the housekeepers will be spending the night in bed with their guardians."

"Does that mean?"

"Does it mean that they make love, have sex? Does it mean they are likely to have babies? Yes, I suppose so. It's the custom around here. I imagine that's the reason that I was quite insistent that you make the decision yourself as to whether you want to come to my homestead rather than that of another guardian."

"You mean, you want me to get into bed with you?"

That made me feel uncomfortable, the short answer was, yes. Could I say that? No way.

But she deserved an honest answer. "I'm a man, I want to go to bed with any female, it's human nature." That wasn't right, not what I had meant to say.

Judging by her response that had NOT been the right thing to say. Quickly I jumped back in, "But I have taken great care to look around at all the potential housekeepers and over the last few days I've come to the conclusion I like you very much. Today, I tried to see if my attitude was reciprocated. I thought it was." - until you put me on the spot like this, I said to myself.

Her attitude was not to castigate me for my macho attitude. The reaction was completely unexpected, as if she had accepted the status quo as a fact, "I've never, I'm not used to the sex stuff." It ended up with my being very confused, even more than she was.

From somewhere I was offered a get-out-of-jail-free card. Without making an issue of it, she, accepting the fact we were going to have sexual relations, announced, "I just wanted to get things straight in my head. No-one tells us anything. I don't think half the girls even think of having babies with their sponsor."

She gave me an inkling as to why she was so accepting, "Ever since we came to the orphanage, starting in the first year when we were just twelve, it was sort of assumed that we'd be having babies. They would say things, like when YOU give birth and YOUR breasts grow bigger to help YOU to nurse YOUR babies, it was always directed at what OUR experiences would be. They never said things like, 'The mother will start lactating at birth'. It was always, 'When YOU give birth, YOU will start leaking milk'."

Were these the concerns of all the students here? She gave me the feeling she wanted to get all this knowledge off her chest, share it with me.

I listened intently, "But they never told us about the making of babies. Oh, except that females love their man when he puts his penis in your vagina. That bit they said was a grown up thing. Am I grown up enough now?"

I suddenly realised she was so flummoxed because she was thinking about her height! What a mixed up kid! I knew students' interest in sex and their natural male/female responses in such practical matters had been artificially quashed until the girls left the orphanage, but she was really confused. She thought 'grown up' just referred to her height rather than any maturity. And she had a fixation about her size. Was this going to result in a more complex relationship than I had ever imagined?

What could I say? All I could come out with was, "I'm sure you're grown up enough to discuss this. You're far more mature than I expected any graduate to be. I think this is for us to talk about when we get to our homestead."

She wanted to know, "This sex stuff, when do I have to... ? I've never been interested in men before. They said I'd want to ... I've no experience in even talking to men. To be honest, I've not spoken to any man except Pimple Face, I mean Mr Piopifac. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

She was so nervous she was uttering as load of garble and did not stop, "He's the only one I've said anything to since I got here, oh, and the employers who I went to for work experience. They hardly spoke to me, they treated me like a piece of stock on the shelves, just issuing instructions. They speak down to us orphans."

As she took a deep breath I thought she had finished, but she jumped in again, "I, I've never done it before, I don't know what to do, sex, I mean, I've not even..."

I was beginning to feel I was a heel. I had to try to put her mind at rest She was worried about sex, about not making a fool of herself, about any relationship with me. It was a wonder she was sane at all, but where to start?

I had to say something just to make her stop getting so upset, "I should be very surprised if you were experienced, Amina. Hartglade is a very strict place. The City Fathers don't expect young ladies to go spreading their wings and flitting from young man to young man. It's not the custom here. Anyhow," I indicated the folder inscribed with her name on the cover. "As far as I'm aware you don't have any experience of sexual matters, but you followed a very intensive course on physiology and pregnancy and it also covered bringing up young children. That was over the first two years here. I noticed you got some very good marks on that." I tried anything just to compliment her, make her feel good about herself.

I was really starting to waffle now. She had caught me off-balance. I had to put her at her ease, "I understand you're worried. I can empathise with you if you don't want to be the housekeeper at my homestead."

"No, no, that's not what I said. And," she hastened to add before I dismissed her, "I just wanted to know. About the sex thing, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression, I didn't mean to say that. I think I want to be your 'housekeeper'." She pronounced the word, 'housekeeper' with a meaning all her own that revealed her acceptance of an inferred intimacy.

I had to be sure, "You are really certain about this? Even though you know that you would be expected to act as..."

" ... your wife, mistress. Yes." She sat still for a minute without saying anything. I gave her that time to back out. Instead she said, "Thank you for listening to me. I must appear to be as thick as a five year old. I'm not stupid, honest. I don't think you expected the question. I kind of knew that all of us at the orphanage will be expected to move out and have children. It's just that when it happens it is a surprise." She gave me a long and careful scrutiny, "I think I'd like to ... with you..."

I had seen her glance around the room at some four or five other potential guardians of whom there were a dozen by now. I must admit that half of them, I'd not like to live with in the same house.

"Then it's agreed, I'll see that the documents are drawn up."

The finality of the decision had a mollifying effect on Amina. I have no idea why, but she relaxed and gave me a glance that communicated some acceptance, even satisfaction at a definite outcome.

It was a relief to go off to find Mr. Gates, and by the time that he was free he assured me that his name was 'Gates' not Mr. Gates. He was rather harassed and had the help of a couple of the older students but I did notice that they were permitted nowhere near the personal files at all.

One of them was collecting the money for the three hundred credit fees. I know that I'd already paid this and Gates said that I was exempt, but by this time he had been button-holed and there was a queue of people waiting to see him. After the money that I had made out of Pimple Face's little fraud I wasn't concerned about the payment of another three hundred credits and I placed the slivers of gold down on the desk just to expedite our departure from this increasingly busy place.

"Humph," snorted a tall graduate who was assisting. She came up behind Amina who had tagged on behind me to observe the clerical operation, "That's the pervert I was telling you about. He crept into the barn and was leering at us, you particularly. You had nothing on but your underclothes. I would steer clear of him if I were you. You don't want a corrupt kinky weirdo. They can't force you, you know."

In fact, I knew the orphans had no opportunity to refuse a guardian, but this was not the time to advise her of that. I had given her the chance to back out.