Part two.
"I understand." I told her with a smile as I played with the apple in my hand.
"Anyways, I prepared a food timetable for you," She pointed at the refrigerator and I saw the timetable pasted upon it. "I supply groceries myself so you wouldn't need to do that."
"Okay, Mrs Peterson."
"Are you with your phone?" She asked, and I hummed in response before bringing out my broken phone from my side pocket. The phone was an outdated Nokia and it wasn't working well, the screen had broken and it froze up most of the time, but I was still able to receive calls. Mrs Peterson gave me her phone number and once I'd stored it, I returned the phone back to my Jean trousers pocket. "Let's continue our tour." She stood up and dropped her half eaten apple on the island.
I stood up also, picked up my baggage and followed her.
We passed through a corridor and she showed me my boss's room, his study, his gym, his personal storage room— where he kept valuable stuff that he hadn't used, and the next door we reached, she stopped walking.
"Is there a problem, Mrs Peterson?" I asked, concerned.
She faced me and her eyes were downcast, the little smile she also had on was melancholic. "This room is off limits." And she kept on walking without saying anything more.
I threw a quick glance at the door and wondered why I wasn't allowed in there. I also wondered why Mrs Peterson looked saddened as she stared at the door. At that moment my curiosity aroused and I couldn't help but wonder what was in there, or what they were hiding in there.
"Aren't you coming?" Mrs Peterson asked, and I looked at her, bowed apologetically towards her before following her.
We kept on walking when we stopped in front of a door, again. This time, she opened the door and entered it and I followed.
It was a bedroom, a really beautiful bedroom and I wondered what we were doing in the room. Then Mrs Peterson faced me with a smile - which looked happier than the one she had on her face as she stared at that restricted room door.
She asked, "How do you like your room?"
I was speechless.
Drained of words.
That luxurious room we'd both entered was actually the room in which I was going to be staying in.
"You don't like it?"
"I love it," I responded to Mrs Peterson's question. "I really do love it."
How could she have thought that I wouldn't like it? I had never had a room to myself, even the little room at the trailer house was shared by me and Maria.
I couldn't help but be in awe as I savoured every bit of my new room with my eyes. It was exactly the same as the ones found in a five star hotel, also my new room had a beautiful chandelier. A chandelier! Not a bulb, not a lamp, but a chandelier.
"Make yourself comfortable with your room," Said Mrs Peterson as she stood next to the doorway.
I dropped my baggage on the floor and moved further into the room, placing the apple on a Galway low stool. I couldn't stop staring at the humongous king sized bed and I was tempted to jump on it, to roll on it, to bounce on it, but I couldn't.
Mrs Peterson was watching so I had to be on my best behavior.
I turned my body to Mrs Peterson and smiled appreciatively, saying, "I really love this room, thank you Mrs Peterson."
"It's nothing," She laughed. "Bastille is the only one who stays at this big mansion and there are plenty of rooms which no one is using, so I figured you should have this for yourself. Also, I didn't want your room to be so far away from Bastille."
"Thank you again, Mrs Peterson," I couldn't stop saying thank you. I really just couldn't help it.
"It's okay," She walked past me and moved towards a door, twisted the doorknob and entered. "You can come in, Mary. It's your room."
She yelled from within, and I moved towards the door and entered through it. It was a closet. The door I'd entered through was actually my own personal closet.
Oh, God! Could my day get any better?
"Here are your uniforms," She pointed to a hanger which was hanging the usual maid dresses. About five, but I wasn't sure they'd fit me because they looked small.
Moving towards the hanger, I picked out a uniform and assessed it with my eyes.
"Uhm, if you're worried about the fit, you shouldn't," I looked back at Mrs Peterson, hanging the cloth back. "Maria gave me your size prior to me getting the cloth."
I nodded, remembering the time Maria had come home with a tape measure and that day she'd taken my measurements. And when I asked her why she did, she simply said; "It's a surprise, Mary." And I didn't probe further.
After we left the closet, Mrs Peterson showed me the bathroom, and other places around the house - like the places where I can remotely open the gate and doors. She also took me to the huge backyard of the house where there was a swimming pool and a small garden. I looked at the whole backyard in fright, I was sure that I myself couldn't clean it all alone. I couldn't even keep the whole compound clean all by myself. I wasn't a machine. I needed some help, but I didn't know how to tell her that, so I decided to ask her cunningly.
"Mrs Peterson," I called out to her. "How many times in a week do I have to clean the compound?"
She smiled, her baby blue eyes staring at me, "I'd be stupid to think that you can clean this whole compound alone, or can you?"
"No," I answered honestly, shaking my head.
"Anyways, you have no business with the compound. I have some people who come over once a week to do the general cleaning of the compound, and since you're technically the one in charge of the house now, your job is to supervise them. So need not to worry, just handle the work on the inside."
I sighed in relief.
Before leaving, she gave me the master key to the house, and I waved her goodbye then closed the door.
I was all alone in the mansion, or so I thought.
When I was about climbing up the stairs I had the main door click open. Thinking it was Mrs Peterson, perhaps she'd forgotten something, I turned back and. . . I forgot how to breathe when I saw the person that had entered.
"Who are you?" The voice asked, closing the door behind.