I have just left the house where I will take up my new position as a maid. A week ago I saw an advert requesting the service of a maid, female, age 25-35, educated. Working times, from 11:00-18:00, all week except Sundays.

I was about to leave my previous position anyway, because they made me feel like Cinderella there, with no prospect of the prince. Since there are not too many young women prepared to do this type of work and, what is more, are prepared to work on Saturdays, I confidently quit my old job before I got this one. The 'educated' intrigued me.

This type of work... I like the structure in my life and the menial, manual, honest labour. I decided some time back that I am not intellectually ambitious. The work environment is grand and the tasks are diverse; washing, cleaning, dusting, scrubbing, vacuuming... all those things. The mistress of the house explained that the tasks include shopping and pre-cooking dinner, which she would finish and serve herself. I am not a household fanatic at home, but here I expect to close the door when the time is up and that will be that. At six, I will leave with my share of the pre-prepared dinner and live my own life.

The required 'education', as explained by Madame, was simply put in to attract candidates who could conduct a half-decent conversation. She got rather bored with previous maids. I am a university drop out, which served as educated.

The rate she offered was generous. The double money on Saturday I do not mind either.

Maid, five weeks later

In the past few weeks, I have gotten to know Madame a little, no more. I still call her Madame. I am quite happy that way, to be honest. The contrary, a mistress who needs a friend and rattles away about her joys and troubles and those of her friends, about the ins and outs of her husband, I care little for. Even less I care for having to reciprocate. And it is not so easy to turn down an inquisitive mistress.

Madame is an impressive woman in her early forties. She is slender and quite beautiful. Stunning really, considering her age. She is remarkably unassuming, however. There are those beautiful women who look down upon ordinary mortals as if towering goddesses. She is in tune, in that I feel that neither her mind nor her body dominates her personality. There is a natural authority; she is bright and self-assured. She can therefore afford to be modest, open and kind. This sounds very much like a picture of human perfection. Am I simply naive or smitten? I admit, I am impressed. Madame is a mistress I run for. No orders required; a request will do.

There must be flaws, but I have not found them yet. What could they be? Our chats are amicable, but, as I have said, not confidential. That may be a flaw in itself. Not to me, however. I don't know her flaws. Let's see... There may be... She has no children, which is still fairly unusual. There may be a simmering regret in that regard. I could invent all sorts of skeletons in the cupboards. I have not found any.

I run for her... this picture of human perfection... Yet there is also a feeling of unease at the back of my mind, almost imperceptibly. Why be uneasy with this kindest of women? I have thought about it for a long time and have tentatively come to a conclusion. I think that she makes me uneasy about myself. Is that possible?

Monsieur is an unknown entity. Madame has not defined him in any but the most superficial ways. A man with an important, time-consuming occupation. I have only seen him one or twice when he nipped in and out of the house during the day. He said 'good afternoon', but flew by without even shaking my hand. I think that he too is a formidable person, but not easy-going.

The house is immense. It was built over 120 years ago for a steel baron of immense wealth, Madame has told me. A huge marble hall and grand stair case, drawing room, dining room, study, library, billiard room, a large kitchen, pantry etc. etc. The house is well furnished with an attractive combination of period and austere ultra-modern furniture. Upstairs there are ten bedrooms, most of which has their own bathroom. In addition, there is an enormous attic, with a few obscure unused rooms, and finally a range of cellars underground. It is situated in a large walled garden, or small park, with a variety of trees, shrubs, wild and kept areas, the drive, a pond. What makes the task of keeping the house clean and tidy manageable is the fact that Madame and Monsieur are the only inhabitants and that most of the bedrooms are rarely used. Madame and Monsieur each have their separate bedroom. Whether or not they sleep together, always or sometimes, I don't know. Skeletons in the cupboard? There is a cupboard for skeletons, yes. I am referring to the room I am not to enter, Madame's bedroom. Madame matter-of-factly informed me of this on my first day and I did not ask. Monsieur's bedroom never bears traces of her presence in the morning. I am curious about their relationship - Who wouldn't be? We are all voyeurs, to degrees- , but can well live without knowing.

My life away from work is not the best meanwhile. My boyfriend of some six months went his way. We did not see each other more often than two or three nights a week and I found out that he entertained another girl the same way. The nights we spent together were frequently satisfying to me, though more often one-sided the wrong way. The usual complaint, not enough talking, not enough fore- and afterplay. I miss his company, however, which was particularly good when we went out. And I miss the good sex we did have when it was good. I don't look forward to taking up the hunting game again, hunting for a new mate. For now I carry on with my girlfriends and spend some more time alone. My work helps me to get over him. It is simple, in a way, and allows - call it meditation.

She is a good maid. Over-qualified, of course. The job is perfect for her, though, because she is intelligent, but without focus. The simple job gives her the focus she needs and the solid ground for her quivering legs. Monsieur and I, now, have been looking for such a girl. We want to take her one step beyond focus and give her the purpose in life she never knew she needed.

To be continued

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