The weeks that followed were busy ones for Emily. Her six-day work schedule, she discovered, was mostly supervisory. She was given control over the family purse and she shopped for the chief cook, the cleaners, the gardeners and the laundry man. She made sure that meals were served at the appropriate times, while ensuring that there was always something for the unexpected caller to eat. She also had to ensure that the house was spotlessly clean around the clock and that meant putting the cleaners on their toes to do their work efficiently and effectively. Mrs Adams, she noticed, had very little contact with the domestic workers but oversaw everything through her housekeeper whom she expected to be on top of her assignment.
The Adams household was a very busy one, as Emily soon discovered. People from all walks of life called around the clock and most of them had to be fed. Ministers, the Judiciary, Labourers, parents and their children, poor relatives and people who needed financial support were among the host of people who called regularly to see the Minister for Roads and Highways. Weekends were packed full of activites, with meals playing a huge part in all events. The cooks, three in all, prepared breakfast, lunch and dinner to small groups of people and on weekends and festive periods when banquets were organised, a chef from Atlantic Hotel, the country's famous Five Star hotel, was hired to give a professional helping hand. Mrs Adams and her husband,loved the croissant prepared by the professional chef.
Twice a week, Emily doubled as Mrs Adams's personal beautician and she received additional remuneration for that service. "You look gorgeous, Gloria," Auntie Blessing, the wife of the Minister for Youth and Sports, complimented Mrs Adams one weekend. "Who's your beautician?" she asked. "Emily," Mrs Adams answered with a smug smile. "Is that the young lady you employed recently?" Blessing asked as she looked her friend over and over with open admiration.
"Yes, she is the one. Emily used to be a professional beautician before I poached her," Mrs Adams replied with a mischievous grin.
"She's such a sweet little girl," Mr Adams ,who, up till then, was busy looking on his phone, chipped in. The ladies turned to look at him.
"Oh yes," he continued, undeterred by their surprised stares, "that girl never gets angry. She smiles all the time and she's very, very hardworking. Gloria had been talking about her for months on end, as she does when something catches her fancy, but when I finally met the young lady, I fully agreed with her. She's just what we need. Sometimes I feel she is our own daughter, especially when she comes to work in our bedroom."
The ladies exchanged surprised looks. Maxwell Adams seldom joined the ladies in conversation, except in matters related to the country's roads, politics, sports, health or crime.
"What is Stephen's opinion of the young lady?" Blessing asked as she turned her attention back to Gloria.
After that rare commendation from a man not given to a lot of words, Mr Adams returned to looking on his phone.
"Oh, I'm yet to discuss Emily with him," Gloria replied evasively.
"Wasn't he going out with Portia, the lady I saw here last month?" Blessing persisted.
"I think he was but I haven't seen them together of late,"
Gloria answered. "I try hard not to pry into Stephen's private affairs."
Stephen's private affairs, as the two ladies described his relationships with members of the opposite sex, were far from satisfactory.
The first day at the Adams household had been a very hectic one for Emily. In between finding her feet in her new job, she had to cope with unannounced appearances; first it was Mrs Adams who returned home at midday. The lady was home to have lunch, or so she had said at the time. Fortunately, the cook had food ready for her but all the workers later expressed surprise at what they described as her rare appearance at midday.
"Madam has never been home for lunch," the chief cook pointed out. "Even on the rare occasions that she turned up at home with a guest, she always called us well in advance to alert us that she'd be doing so or she would tell us before she went to work that she would bring guests home." A full hour after Mrs Adams had left, Mr Adams also retumed home, ostensibly to have a nap. The staff members of the Adams household were stunned. "He may be very tired," one of the cooks whispered his concern.
When Stephen turned up just before three o'clock in the aftemoon, the domestic staff concluded that the reason for the unusual turn of events in the household could be none other than Emily. "Maybe they want to ensure that all is well with her," the gardener hazarded a guess. "She is new and they possibly are not sure of her. "You know nothing at all," Donald told them. "They love her; they adore the young lady and even Mr Adams who gives the cold stare, smiles when he sees her!" Everyone was silent as they digested that piece of information.
Stephen had looked Emily up as soon as he arrived home. "I want to have a word with you," he said when he found her in the kitchen which was close to the dining room. Emily dropped her pen on the counter, closed the accounts and followed him out of the room as he headed towards his bedroom. At the entrance to his bedroom, Emily paused as he held the door open for her.
"Can't we talk elsewhere?" she asked in a soft, deferring voice. In response to her question, Stephen took her arm firmly, pulled her into the room and shut the door behind her. Stephen was very unhappy and he told Emily so in very clear terms.
"Now listen," he said curtly. "You owe me several explanations. First, you refused to call me when we both agreed that you'd do so. Secondly, you decided to accept the offer to work as a housekeeper for my mom without first consulting me." Emily sighed wearily. She had been working all day and she felt tired, very tired. She did not feel she owed Stephen any explanation, but she did not say so. "Can I answer your questions later, boss?" she asked, instead. "Stop calling me 'boss!" he snapped angrily at her.
Emily smiled and clasped her hands in front of her. She felt weary and, without any warning, tears glistened in her eyes. She blinked instinctively but Stephen saw the tears and he grunted in frustration.
Everything was going wrong but that was not how he had planned their meeting to be. With a sigh of despair, he pulled the door open and stepped aside. Emily felt drained of all energy as
she walked out of the room. "Emily! What did you go to do in his room?" Donald confronted her as she made her way back to the living room.
"He said he wanted to talk to me," she replied. "I saw you leave the kitchen with him and I've been so anxious," he said, casting a furtive glance at the closed door. Emily smiled. "I'm tired," she said as she walked past him. "I want to have some rest." Emily collected her books from the kitchen before heading towards her room, while Donald stood watching as she made her way towards her living quarters. Just as he turned to go to the laundry man's place to chat, he saw Stephen emerge from his room. Quickly, Donald disappeared into the hedges and, hiding among the milk bushes, he watched Stephen make his way towards Emily's room.
"This boy is up to no good," he thought with displeasure as he watched Stephen knock and then enter Emily's room.
He must talk to Felicia, one of the cooks, and get the older woman to act as Emily's chaperon if the young lady was to live in peace on the Adams compound. It was time for him to close for the day but he decided to hang around to be sure that Emily was protected from Stephen whom he considered to be a predator. Meanwhile, Stephen decided to perch on the arm of the chair when Emily offered him a seat. "Look here, Emily," he began, "I'm very sorry if I offended or
hurt you. I didn't mean to upset you but everything seems to be going wrong today. I'm very worried about a lot of things and, to be honest, I'm contemplating returning to the States if things do not change."
"Can I at least sit down boss?" Emily asked. "I'm exhausted." Stephen felt like crying. Why should Emily insist on addressing him as 'boss' and thus put a gap between them? Was it not enough that she was now their housekeeper? His face darkened and he looked very angry. "Should you ask me if you should sit down in your own room?
I just don't know what's come over you Emily. Please, tell me why you accepted this job."
Emily clasped her hands.
"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't explain earlier the reason I failed to call you last Saturday, but I was
suspended from work for two weeks, minutes after you drove off," she explained.
"You don't say!" Stephen exclaimed.
She proceeded to narrate the things that had happened in her life since that fateful Saturday. When she ended her story, there was a brief pause as Stephen digested the information.
"Well errmm, I'm sorry," he finally apologised. "Why didn't you call to let me know about what was happening? Of course, we hadn't known each other for long then so you obviously couldn't have called to ask for help. Oh Boy!" He eased himself into the sofa as he spoke. "Do you like the job Mummy has offered you? I know it's too early in the day to do a proper assessment but at least your first day should be enough for you to decide whether or not you'd like to continue." Emily smiled. 'It's not just about a job," she explained.
"Your mother has offered to help me further my education and she wants me to apply for next semester's admission to the Nation's University. They have a programme for workers which means that when I'm admitted I'll attend lectures after five o'clock in the evening each day. She's promised to provide a car to send me to and from lectures and I appreciate her help tremendously. So, as you can see, I just can't turn my back on such a generous offer. And, besides, she has told me plainly that she needs me around."
"Why is Mummy doing all these?" Stephen asked with perplexity, "She's not given to such magnanimity so there must be a hidden agenda somewhere. I know she likes you a lot because she keeps talking about you all the time, but such beneficence beats my imagination."
"She is paying me about ten times what I used to make at Premier Beauty Salon and, in addition to that, she is giving me the full salary I earned at the salon for the eight times a month that I will provide her beauty care services. I think I must be grateful to God for giving me such a breakthrough," she declared.
"That may be true but I still don't like it. You must not be our housekeeper!" he objected.
Emily arched a brow. "What's wrong with being a housekeeper? In any case, I like the job," she stated.
"That's where I have a huge problem!" he snapped angrily.
Emily stared at him. "Let's say I try to talk Mummy out of this housekeeper
arrangement and she agrees with me. Will you be willing to move out if we found you a better place?"
Emily hesitated briefly. "No, I will not," she answered. "I like it here and, besides, I don't know why you want me out."
"Simple," Stephen readily replied, "I'm highly attracted to you and having you work as a housekeeper who lives with us certainly will have its drawbacks. Since we met that fateful Saturday, I've had time to think about a lot of things. I'm fond of you. You have a certain calming effect on me and you are very, very different from all the ladies I've met so far. I've talked to my friend the journalist, Kojo Ganyo. You know him, don't you?"
Emily nodded and then it clicked. The young man she had seen with Stephen when she went over to see Mrs Adams that Sunday was the famous multiple award-winning investigative journalist. He was a regular face on many television networks and a regular voice in radio discussions. "Yes", Emily knew Kojo Ganyo and she said so.
"I wasn't sure if I was right about the way I felt about you and what I thought of you, the quintessential lady. But his investigations confirmed my earlier opinion of you. Everyone he spoke to talked about your natural charm and exceptional character just like the sunshine," he said.
"I see," Emily said and closed her eyes.
She recalled Donald's warning earlier in the day and noticed that
Stephen was playing the cards very well.
"As for Stephen, watch out for him if you are moving into their residence. That young man cannot keep his hands off beautiful girls!" Those words resonated in her ears.
When she opened her eyes, her mind was made up. Stephen was watching her and obviously waiting for her response.
"What if that feeling you have is not reciprocal?" she asked. He smiled and his eyes danced merrily.
"In that case, I'll revise my notes very well and adopt a better strategy, but I'm confident we both hit the right chord in each other when we met. That much, I'm convinced about, no matter what you may say to the contrary."
"l see," she muttered again.
"Please, reconsider your decision to stay here," he appealed to her. "I believe if you see other places, you'll have a change of mind."
"It's not about the beauty of this place or any such physical thing," she pointed out. "As you have aptly described it, your mom and I have, as it were, struck a chord in each other in our own unique ways. I don't think I want to leave her, especially not now."
There was a knock on the door and Stephen answered it. It was Donald. "Sorry, Mr Stephen Adams," Donald apologised, feigning
surprise at seeing his Master's son in the room. "I came to deliver to Madam Emily an information I forgot to pass on."
Stephen sighed. "Okay, Emily," he said as he walked towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. We'll talk further."
There was silence as Stephen moved out of the room.
"I just wanted to get him out!" Donald stated as soon as he was sure Stephen was out of earshot and then he burst into laughter.
Emily smiled. "I'm tired and I think I'd like to rest," she declared.
Just then, the phone rang. Mrs Adams was back home and said she wanted to see Emily. Could she present herself before her employer in five minutes? The voice on the line asked and Emily quickly stood up.
Poor Emily, Donald thought as they headed towards the main building.
Everyone in the Adams household wanted a big slice of the cake called Emily, Donald thought and then smiled secretly to himself.