I keep waiting for the axe to fall, for Mr Cullen’s good humour to pass and him to start getting nasty with me. I’ve never worked for a man who thinks about how I’m doing. He asks every morning if I slept well, and tells me what a wonderful dinner or supper I cooked for him and Ed. Something’s got to happen. I don’t want to let my guard down and not be ready, so I nod and smile and thank him, but watch for the signs of him being about to grab or hit me. But Ed is the one who has that look in his eyes, and I think Mr Cullen is making sure he leaves me alone.
It’s getting harder to get down on my hands and knees to pick the grubs off the vegetables. The hens don’t eat the grubs that do the most damage, and if I don’t keep on top of it, we won’t have any fresh vegetables to eat, except corn.
