22/05/2007 by Uncle.

Well I now have a house keeper. I am not sure about the whole thing but only time will tell.
Having sorted a few things out - identity, making sure she was legal and registered etc and few ground rules she went tripping off to the Bush to get her stuff.

The basic set up is that she lives at my place (in the second bedroom) rent free and food paid for. She does the cleaning and shopping and generally keeps the place ticking along. If she abuses my trust just once or fucks about in terms of behaviour, then she is out on her ear.

She asks if she can tell her friends she is moving in with her boyfriend. I was a bit thrown and somewhat amused by this question bearing in mind our age difference. Fuck it, I suppose so if it makes you happy Doris.
She was back quite soon with a carry on flight bag and a vanity case thingy. I travel light but it did not seem much for a life in the smoke.

Since then she has been spring cleaning. If she had cleaned the bloody place to start with there would not be so much to do, but then I suppose she was busy doing other things to worry about cleaning and she didn’t expect to be living there did she?
It is weird though having someone else sharing your living space. I had forgotten female ways of doing things. I am a bit untidy, not a slob, but I am not an iron hoof either, so I don’t do the pristine nothing out of place routine.

I decided to try to get back into a routine that resembles normality. I have not really been out and about much since I got back from my last job, so I thought about going out for a few drinks and spot of grub. I mentioned it and Leinka said OK. About 6.30pm I smell toast being cooked and asked her what she is doing. With hindsight it was bloody obvious what she was doing, she was cooking toast. She was cooking toast because she thought I was going out and she was staying in. Had I asked her out? Had I sort of assumed she would come? I don’t know.
“Come on get ready”

“I don’t have any money”

“What?”

“I don’t have any money to go out. Angela pays me at the end of the week but I had to pay the girls my rent for next week and I only have a bit left for food”

“How much do you have”

“£25″

You don’t have to buy food I will take care of that. Are you coming out or not?

A big smile exploded across her face and she leapt off the settee like a baby gazelle and sort of bounced towards the bathroom.

Looks like she’s coming then!

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22/05/2007 by Uncle.

After the somewhat unorthodox introduction to my Estonian cleaning lady (see yesterdays post) we ended up sleeping together. Let me get one thing straight here, I mean sleeping not shagging. The next morning was very weird, even by my standards. It would seem that my part time unofficial lodger was used to borrowing what M&S and Next now refer to as lounge wear. When I was a boy we called them PJs. She was obviously used to getting up showering in my en suite and wandering round naked, which is exactly what happened on Saturday morning until she suddenly remembered YT and then scampered back to the shower room to get a towel. Shame. She then decided she would make US breakfast. Nice mug of Earl Grey some toast etc which she served me in bed. Now I have never been a great lover of breakfast in bed because I end up getting crumbs in the bed. It annoys me and used to drive my wife fucking nuts. This lady was no different.

“Norman you are gedding de crumbs in de bed”

“I know I am trying not to”

“Id will be all scratchy layder”

Look, go with this and just try to imagine and Estonian accent please.

I am not used to domestic intimacy. I have not lived with a woman since my wife and children were killed. That’s not to say that I don’t shag, but I just don’t do domestic any more and this was way strange.

Eventually I got up and showered and prepared for the day ahead and to decide just what to do about Doris.

She cleared up and was clearly very apprehensive and nervous. To be fair I can see why. I always saw myself as a reasonable easy going geezer until my wife told me people found me intimidating unapproachable and often frightening. She said look at you 100kg shaven head mad eyes and decorated with a variety of interesting  scars. It was the first time anyone had ever said this to me and I was genuinely surprised but had to accept her version of how the world sees me. She was right.

“Well what are we going to do about this?” I asked in my friendliest tone with a big smile.

She started crying. Not just tears but big sad desperate sobs. I could tell this was not going well!

She stood there with her head hanging down and cried so that big fat tears plopped onto the floor and I stood there looking at her like a lemon. Eventually I moved and put my arm around her and she buried her head into my shoulder.

Fuck me, this is real Mills and boon stuff but I will plough on.

It is a long time since I had held a woman like that or felt someone cry properly and I don’t know but I felt something. At first I thought it was wind but then realised that it was a churning in my guts caused by emotion, sympathy, loss. I don’t know it was something like that.

I stroked her head and she stopped trying to water log the carpet and sniffed. Lots.

I reassured her I was not going to tell Angela. That was OK. What about her “boyfriend” and the weekends. Hmmm tricky - fuck I don’t want some 20 odd year old hanging round do I? Do I? The nest thing I am saying well maybe you could sort of be the house keeper or whatever. WHATEVER!! What are you on Norm!

“I will need to think it through and work out some rules and stuff”

“Oh thank you, thank you”

Watch the is space

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