Moving In & Going Out

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!

5 Responses to “Moving In & Going Out”

  1. Jen&Bob says:

    You need looking after you old goat.

    Does she know what she has let herself in for?

    Is she brave or foolish?

  2. Tom Riches says:

    Hello Norm, heard you were back. it could only happen to you. if i didnt know you better i would say that you have a soft spot for this young lady!

    Any chance of getting together for a beer or two and maybe some scoff down at Johnny Gurkha’s you could kip at mine? Bring Doris!

  3. I do hope it works out for you, darling!

    Live-in maids can be a funny lot!
    Mine were indigenous to the various Indonesian quarters we were occupying at the time and were, alternately, an absolute blessing/source of stress and discomfort.

    Obviously there were some vast cultural differences, as you may discover…and then there is the question of encroachment…and loss of privacy…and added responsibility…

    But at least one doesn’t have to attend to such drudgery as washing dishes, ironing sheets and polishing shiny surfaces.

    As I am about to do now…

  4. Sally says:

    I laughed! Especially at the toast. She sounds great though! Good post.

  5. Uncle says:

    Jen – Looking after is better than being seen to especially for an old goat.

    Tom – Will email you.

    Minx – I have to be honest I ma finding it a little hard to adjust to being pampered. The poor girl is trying very hard to do her bit and at the same time NOT to encroach. I think she is trying a little to hard.

    Sally – I can be a right thicko sometimes. She is full of energy and life, which is maybe what I need to counter balance my life.

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