The lady with Ambitions

Chapter 4

Hello, Irene.

It stung.

Everything simply ached. I had no idea how to express it, but I could feel it starting in the pit of my stomach and spreading like wildfire throughout my entire body.

My wounds from Sydney had mostly healed or dried up, and my body was no longer suffering as badly, but there was a sensation in my body that could not be compared to any physical anguish in the world.

I could feel it everywhere, and it would never leave. No amount of time could make things better.

The school bell rings in my ear, and I quickly collect my bag. I always sat perfectly close to the entrance, began packing my books exactly four minutes before class finished, and curled my fingers securely around my bag strap.

I knew where they had their last periods, how long they spoke in the corridors, how long it took them to get out, and everything else.

Except that occasionally, my timing was wrong, which was something I dreaded every day. It happened several times, and none of them ended well.

My attention never wavers as my legs walk quickly towards the enormous double doors that led to my departure from this torment.

I've had my strategy in place since my first lesson this morning.

I'd take the bus to Rupert City and then walk to the Agosti Estate. The bus never went down there, and I couldn't afford a taxi, so walking was my only alternative.

I hadn't noticed my air was running out from holding my breath for too long until I reached the bus doors.

I gasp for oxygen as I sit on the leather sofa, my palm on my chest, and slowly count down from three.

They did not capture me.

On impulse, I slipped down in my seat, preventing anyone from seeing I was on the bus.

Every time the bus doors closed, I felt comfort fill my body, but not tonight. After they nabbed me yesterday, I would never be secure, even in Rupert City, where no one from my community has ever ventured.

My thoughts return to the man who was pursued by the cops last night. I'm curious what he was up to that prompted the police to intervene.

I wrinkle my brow and put my head against the cold glass pane, trying to forget about it by focusing on the trees that pass by as the bus moves down the street.

I could tell we were getting closer because the dusty streets, replete with dilapidated-looking dwellings and rubbish on every corner, were going away.

I could see the enormous skyscrapers overshadowing our modest hamlet, which appeared invisible to the residents of Rupert City.

We were simply garbage to them, a group of miserable, drug-addicted criminals.

I doubt they even acknowledged our presence, given that they would invariably purchase off the property where folks struggling to make ends meet resided for their million-dollar infrastructure.

I gave a quick thank you to the compassionate bus driver before going away, ignoring the glances I received.

The bus to Rupert City from my village was usually empty when it arrived. So, when our town's ancient, worn-out busses pulled up to the bus stop, no one anticipated someone like us to stroll out into their cherished city.

But I wasn't concerned enough with their scrutinising eyes right now. All I cared about was the golden card in my palm, which would lead to freedom.

I start walking towards the Agosti estate, which will take 35 minutes.

I could immediately feel my legs becoming sore. I wasn't out of shape, but my body had been wounded so many times that everyday tasks were unpleasant.

To distract myself from the scorching anguish in my body, I attempt to concentrate on my surroundings, the beautiful flowers and the bustling streets populated solely by the wealthy.

My heart aches as I see a man in his 60s getting lectured by his supervisor, who appears to be 30 years younger than him.

The elderly man's expression was hollow as he took in the harsh words as if he'd been exposed to them his entire life.

I wanted to assist him and yell at his employer to leave him alone, but I couldn't since I was nothing compared to him.

I turn my head, resisting every instinct in me to do nothing. Even though my body was about to collapse, I wanted to unleash my last piece of power on him, but I didn't. I would lose.

I always lose.

My breaths are all over the place when I finally arrive. I don't even get to glance at the home as I try to rest my body after the terrible walk I just had.

When I look up, my eyes, which were straining from the strong light, expand at the sight.

I'd never seen a home on the walk that was as large as the Agosti Estate.

To say it was vast would be an understatement; it was more akin to a castle, with a gigantic steel gate blocking the entrance.

I could only wonder why they required so much space; how large was their family? Surely, they wouldn't want that much space; it could accommodate an entire city.

I cautiously made my way over to the gate, which towered over me. I probably resembled an ant standing next to it.

I pursed my lips together before carefully touching a gold button that I assumed would be where the gate attendant would respond.

No one responds, so I move to touch my finger on the button again but am startled by the voice that suddenly emerges from the speaker.

"Get away from the premises. Mr. Agosti isn't interested in interviews, sponsorships, donating to your organisation, or Girl Scout cookies." The old man speaks in a bored tone via the speaker, as if he had been saying it all day.

"I'm here for a job; I have the card and everything, sir," I remark, attempting to mask my nervousness as I hold the golden card up to the camera.

He didn't even ask me to demonstrate it; I simply start doing stuff when I'm scared, which is a behaviour I hope I can change.

It's quiet for a time before a loud click sounds, and the door slowly opens.

My heart accelerates as more of the castle-like edifice is seen.

Allowing my legs to carry me down to the entrance, I see the enormous fountains of water flowing down, the large stairs on each end of the fountains that went up to the doors, and the gardeners trying to keep the bushes as clean as possible.

I felt useless simply staring at the front yard. How much money did these guys have, anyway? And how might someone get such a vast sum of money?

I eventually make it to the door, my gaze drawn to the doorbell on the side.

My hands were hesitant at first, but I eventually mustered the bravery to ring the doorbell, waiting at the door with what seemed like a swarm of bees in my gut.

I was anxious and terrified of how the owners would treat me after witnessing that unfortunate elderly man earlier.

The sound of the enormous doors opening makes me even more uneasy, and the towering woman on the other side of the door, her hair perfectly done into a bun, glaring at me with lifeless eyes, makes me fearful of what will happen next.

"Give me the card." She instructs, stiffly thrusting her palm at me.

"O..of course," I say, placing it in her hand, which instantly travels back to examine the card. I keep a close eye on her, my gaze drawn to every detail of the card she examines.

" Name." She says, her eyes still fixed on the card.

"Irene Hart," I respond, my hands interlaced anxiously.

"Hm...and who gave this to you?" She inquires, looking up at me through her little spectacles with a doubtful expression.

"A.. an old man, he just gave it to me, it was pretty random." I pause for a second before opening my mouth again.

"But he's incredibly kind! He is the friendliest man I've ever encountered and very competent at his work; I was particularly pleased by the manner he-"

She raises her finger toward my face, and my words are stopped short as I gaze down at the finger in front of me. Her wrinkled face is shadowed by an irritated expression, and she lets out a frustrated sigh.

"That's Mr. Giovani." He doesn't need your feedback; he receives extremely substantial checks, as does everyone else here. I was wondering because there have been several individuals attempting to sneak a job in here, but it appears that you were suggested by Giovani; you should be thankful." She says, quickly turning on her heels and instructing me to follow behind her.

"Does Mr. Giovani work at the house? I never got to thank him. I frown as I follow her around the estate, admiring the lavish décor. Every piece of furniture appeared to be worth 10 times my rent, and the intricacies of the flooring and ceilings further added to the rich atmosphere.

The woman's heels abruptly come to a halt, and I follow suit shortly after. She turns to me, her eyes flaming with rage as they scrutinise every inch of me.

"You talk to me with respect; we are not buddies. Refer to me as Mrs. Carmen; you're only here for work." She glares, and I nod, lowering my head slightly in shame. I can't spoil this either.

Mrs. Carmen turns around, and I follow as we proceed along the enormous halls. The home was quiet, which was not surprising given its size, yet it seemed lonely and empty.

"This is where the maids usually stay; most of us work full time, so we live in the maid quarters." She sighed and opened a brown door. I peep through as I go behind her. Several maids run in and out of doors, looking at me curiously as they pass.

I observe that none of them look my age; they appear to be in their thirties or their forties to sixties.

"Due to several scandals, we seldom recruit young females at the estate. But I believe Mr. Giovani picked you for a good reason, and I hope you can live up to it." Mrs. Carmen says.

Scandals?

I wrinkle my brow in thinking as she opens a door at the end of the corridor, leading into a little office that I believed was hers.

"And I presume you're a student at Rupert Kingswood Private School?" She says, sitting on a leather chair and typing on her computer.

I stand there in quiet for a moment, knowing Mrs. Carmen will never let me continue working if I tell her which school I truly attend.

She turns her head, staring up at me through her spectacles.