Clean Revenge

Chapter 2 - Work

Charlotte was a good friend. She let me stay with her until I found a place of my own, which was pretty difficult, considering I had no job or money to pay rent. When she managed to get me some work with the cleaning company she was with, I had little choice but to take it. I went from having a cleaner, to being a cleaner in just a matter of weeks. It was a hard pill to swallow. I unpacked the vacuum and cleaning supplies from the car and placed them on the ground as I closed the boot. Charlotte had leant me one of her uniforms. A pale blue dress with navy collar and cuffs that buttoned from the waist to the neckline. ‘Rose’s Cleaning Service’ was embroidered on the right breast. It was a little shorter and tighter than it should have been, as Charlotte is much smaller than me, but beggars can’t be choosers. I lugged the cleaning supplies to the huge timber front door, frosted glass panels running its length. I knew this area, I had lived with Peter only minutes away from here. Big houses, expensive cars, everything I thought I wanted. Now I was here to spend four hours cleaning for sixteen dollars an hour. I took one last deep breath before pressing the doorbell. A voice came over the intercom, “Can I help you?” “Hi, I’m Jenna from Rose’s Cleaning. I’m here to clean your house.” I answered. “Ah yes, I’ll be there in a second,” said the voice. Moments later the door swung open to a man who looked to be in his late 20’s or early 30’s. He was wearing a crisp white business shirt buttoned all the way to his adam’s apple. You could see the outline of a muscular figure beneath it. This was paired with grey sweatpants and bare feet. He must have noticed my look of confusion. “Working from home, online meetings. This is the official attire,” he said, flashing me a smile. I nodded in acknowledgement. “Please, come in.” he gestured to the extra wide hallway and closed the door behind me. “I’m Michael. Sorry, this is our first time getting a cleaner. My work has been crazy lately and my wife just started a new job, too. She’s out a lot, meeting with clients, just not enough hours in a day. She organised to have you come out today. I’ll be working in the office, please let me know if you need anything.” I nodded and thanked him. He returned to the office, and I checked my watch, 10:02am. I thought about what Charlotte had told me, ‘always start upstairs in a double storey house. You don’t want to trapes across clean floors downstairs. Work backwards.’ I carted the supplies upstairs and set to work. There were four bedrooms, two bathrooms including the ensuite and a small sitting room. I didn’t mind cleaning; I was a little OCD and cleaning let me have everything just the way I liked it. I was able to control the outcome. Maybe that’s why I had agreed to marry Peter. Up until the day I caught him in bed with another woman, our lives were reasonably mundane. Work, dinner parties with all the ‘right people’. Our s*x life was routine, not bad but not overly exciting either. Seems as though he saved that for other women, judging by her moans from that day. The bedrooms were immaculate, three set as guest bedrooms, obviously no children yet. I dusted, vacuumed and fluffed the pillows. The main bedroom was much the same, except for Michael’s Calvin Klein boxers on the floor next to the bed. I made the bed and folded them gently, placing them on his pillow. I checked my watch, 11:47am, just over two hours to go. I collected the cleaning materials and headed downstairs.

Leaving everything in the middle of the open plan kitchen, dining, living room, I headed to the office. The door was open, and Michael was staring at his laptop, one hand on his chin, deep in thought. “Excuse me, Sir. I’m going to vacuum downstairs soon. I just wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t interrupt your meetings?” He chuckled, “Sir? Please, Michael is fine. And no worries, my meetings are done for today. I’ll be out in 20 minutes or so to grab some lunch anyway.” I nodded and turned to leave until the picture frame on his desk caught my eye. It housed a picture of a woman, she looked familiar. I had seen her somewhere before. NO! It couldn’t possibly be…could it? I stepped into the office to get a closer look. “Your wife is very beautiful,” I said. “Oh, Daniella? She’s been working so hard lately, getting home at all hours.” My heart was in my throat. I wanted to tell him that his wife had been working hard indeed, hard at f*****g my fiancé. But something stopped me. I needed this job; I needed the money. It had to tide me over until I could find something else. Realising I had been lingering too long, I excused myself. I headed straight to the downstairs bathroom. I felt sick. What should I do? Should I steal some of her clothes? We were a similar size. What about her jewellery? No. Should I hide rotten food around the house? No, Michael shouldn’t suffer because his wife is a w***e. He seemed nice. He’ll suffer enough when it all comes out. I had to compose myself. I leant over the vanity and took three deep breaths. Then it hit me…revenge.