Diva in Disguise Chapter 14

On the appointed day I drove across town in good time and parked my little car in the imposing driveway. As I alighted the sun disappeared behind a passing cloud. The grand house was an imposing structure that loomed darkly over me as the shadows fell, giving a sense of foreboding. An unexpected crash behind me made me start as the automated gates swung together. Gathering my resolve I pulled the chain of the doorbell and listened to its far-off clamour with the presentiment that nothing good would come of this visit. As I waited uneasily, a troupe of energetic butterflies seemed to be preforming a dance routine in my stomach. Then the sun soared once more from its hiding place, dispelling my sinister imaginings, and I scolded myself for harbouring foolish fears.

When the door opened, any negative feelings that remained were dispelled by the welcoming smile on the face of the person who answered my summons. The maid, who went by the name of Consuela, as I was to learn, was new to me. She was much younger than I had expected, perhaps only a year or two older than myself. Her features seemed somewhat familiar and straight away I felt that an empathy existed between us.

“Miss Cartwright? Come right in, you’re expected. Please wait in the drawing room and you will be joined by Mrs Bell in a moment. I expect you know your way there.”

Only too well! There had been a period when my visits had been both frequent and of some duration. Time elapsed before Madeleine herself joined me, but once the suspense of waiting was over, I was pleasantly surprised when she greeted me as warmly as I could have wished. She came and hugged me before leading me across to the light of the window.

“Let me look at you, Jennifer. Having you here brings a breath of fresh air to this stuffy old house. You look well, very well, and prettier than ever. I remarked on it when I saw you at the funeral. Even hidden behind that veil your features simply took my breath away. I was devastated when I heard about your poor mother, my dear. So sudden! Come and sit.”

Madeleine seated herself on a sofa while I perched myself at the other end of it. Despite her overt friendliness, I felt ill at ease and found it hard to chime in with her mood. My composure wasn’t assisted by what she was wearing. Over a pair of black silk brocade pants, a lacy bolero did little to hide how the red satin camisole beneath it clung to her body. It was very evident that she was not wearing a bra. As we talked, I found it hard to keep my eyes from straying downwards and my past familiarity with those generous curves of hers didn’t help my endeavours.

The woman’s heavy perfume seemed to engulf me, and a distracting tingling arose in my nether regions. My consciousness of this disturbance was aggravated by the suspicion that the woman knew exactly what was going on. Madeleine’s face bore a knowing smile. As ever, I found the proximity to her mature figure beguiling, a trial I had half-expected, and another reason why I hadn’t wanted to come here at all. Hopefully I would be able to keep my visit short and speedily get out of there.

We had not been chatting for many minutes before my hostess rang for Consuela and ordered glasses of home-made lemonade, the afternoon being warm. Her manner to the maid was peremptory and after the girl had departed on her errand my hostess’s face wore a frown.

“I have to say I am not best pleased with this maid. She’s willing enough in many ways but such a klutz! If she wasn’t quite so dependent on me, she would have gone weeks ago. It is a responsibility I do not welcome and I think it likely she will have to leave before long.”

Being taken into the employer’s confidence like this did nothing to bridge the gulf between us. My sympathies were entirely with Consuela. Idly I wondered what her willingness might include.

As if to demonstrate her recent point, when the maid brought the tray, Madeleine immediately saw fit to take charge.

“Careful girl! Now let me do this. It will be better if I take… Oh really! How could you be so clumsy?”

It was hard to say whose fault it had been but both glasses had slid off the tray and landed neatly in my lap. I was soaked to my skin.

“Aargh!” I gasped. My skirt and top were wringing wet and, worse, the sticky liquid was ice-cold.

I sat stock still, in a state of disbelief. How could this be happening to me?

There followed a stinging rebuke for the maid from Madeleine, making me feel even more uncomfortable. I felt it’s injustice deeply when at its conclusion came the hard words of dismissal. “That is the final straw, Consuela. I’m afraid no other option remains. You will have to go!”

“Oh, please mistress! Please, Mrs Bell. Please don’t send me away. I will try harder, no matter what. I can help Miss Jennifer now. Let me dry her things. Please don’t make me leave!”

I joined my entreaties to those of the maid, who had burst into tears and stood sobbing before us. “Oh, it’s nothing Madeleine, really. I’ll be fine. I’m sure Consuela can find me a towel, and perhaps I could borrow something dry to put on.

“Well, I don’t know.” My hostess’s face was creased with lines of disapproval. “You are extremely generous to try to overlook the matter, but she is already on her final chance.”

“Oh, it’s really no big deal” I exclaimed, more heartily than I felt.

Madeleine heaved a sigh. “Well. It’s against my better judgement, really it is, but...”

“Oh, thank you, mistress.”

“You had better take Miss Jennifer upstairs. Use the attic room next to yours, I think, and bring towels. I will find her something to wear. Quickly now!”

To me “Go with Consuela, dear. A cold drenching on a hot day can be quite injurious to the health. I’ll mix you something warm to drink.”

Obediently I did as I was directed, and inwardly protesting against all the fuss that was being made, I suffered myself to be led away. The room which we entered was of a gloomy appearance. Dominated by a four-poster bed, an abundance of dark wooden furniture gave it a sombre aspect. During the time of our ill-starred engagement two years before I’d suggested the chamber’s renovation to Madeleine but she had refused to hear of it. Why she had directed it be used now was beyond my understanding.

Once we were inside, I tried to reassure the young woman whose misery was all too apparent. “You mustn’t be too upset, Consuela. These things happen. I’m sure you will find that Mrs Bell’s bark will be worse than her bite, as they say, and that everything will turn out all right.”

The girl dried her eyes and sorrowfully went to fetch a towel. When she returned with that and a bathrobe, she seemed to have recovered her poise as without the slightest hesitation she knelt before me to help take off my wet clothes.

“Er… that’s okay… I can manage.”

Despite my protests the maid was not to be dissuaded and when the task was completed, I was almost in as much distress as she. Every stitch I was wearing had been swiftly removed. My embarrassment was palpable as I vainly tried to cover my chest with one hand and my private area with the other. Seemingly unfazed by my nakedness, however, the girl draped the robe over my shoulders before calmly kneeling again to being to peel away the strips of surgical tape with which I had hidden the evidence my maleness that morning.

Noo!

I turned away in panic and completed the removal of the sodden strands myself. Once that was done and I was modestly wrapped in the bathrobe I recovered some of my composure. However, I was still unhappy.

“Eww, I’m really sticky” I complained as mildly as I could. “Perhaps there’s somewhere I can wash myself down?”

“Yes, go in there.” Consuela indicated a door in the corner of the chamber which proved to lead into a small ensuite washroom. “Or if you would prefer, I could draw you a nice hot bath.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. I can clean up in there.”

“It’s no trouble, though mistress said we should use this room. It’s always better to do what she says.”

I could readily believe it! Consuela left me taking my wet clothes away to soak them. In her absence I quickly washed and dried myself so that when she reappeared in the doorway I was wrapped decently in the robe once more and feeling altogether more human. In one hand she held a bundle of clothing, in the other a steaming glass of what looked like milk.

“Here are some things which Mrs Bell thinks will fit.” She laid the apparel on the bed. “And here is a hot drink she has mixed for you. It’s to help you get over your shock.”

The maid put the latter gingerly upon a dresser. “Perhaps you should drink it down before I spill that as well” she added ruefully.

The girl seemed close to tears again and I wondered whether she had suffered a further reprimand in the interim. To see her waiting attendance on me so unhappily tugged at my heartstrings. Though I would have preferred to be left to sort myself out, it might be a kindness to enlist her help. I examined the clothing then smiled at the girl to encourage her. “These things look complicated. If you would help me to get dressed, please, it would be so much easier.”

At my request the girl brightened up immediately. The clothing she had brought appeared an unusual assortment. All in white and adorned with lace and embroidery, the underwear would not have been out of place in a bride’s trousseau a generation before. A pair of bloomer-style panties were complemented by a longline bra, a garter belt, and white stockings. I regarded them doubtfully. The sheerness of the material would not provide as much coverage as I would have wished.

Though my intention in requesting assistance had only been to keep the maid busy and take her mind off her harsh treatment, in the event her aid proved useful. The rear fastenings on the bustier were tight and beyond easy reach. I could scarce breathe when all was hooked together. My waist was compressed, and my bust pushed up to be more prominent than ever.

Making light of the discomfort I tried to console the maid further. “You have been very helpful, Consuela. I’m sure I couldn’t have managed without you.”

The girl received my thanks complacently. She seemed to have recovered herself once again. “Your milk, Miss Jennifer, before it gets cold.”

She held the glass out for me to take. Though I didn’t want anything to drink, it seemed politic not to raise any needless objections that might increase her employer’s displeasure. What I most desired was to put on some more suitable clothing, collect whatever it was that had belonged to Mom and leave the house. I took the tumbler from her and gulped down the contents while she watched over me.

When I’d drunk it all, a secretive look of satisfaction flashed across her face for an instant, then it was gone. With growing irritation, I began to wonder whether there was anything else for me to wear. Trying to exercise the little patience that remained to me, I took comfort in observing how much more cheerful Consuela now seemed and felt satisfaction of knowing that I had been of assistance.

She began to chat away to me quite happily. “You don’t remember me in high school, do you? I was in the year above yours. I used to think you were really cool, what with being in the cheerleading squad, hanging out with Shirley’s crowd and everything.”

A memory stirred. “Of course! Yes, I do recall you now. As a matter of fact, I thought you were cool as well. The girls in your year seemed so much more mature than the friends I had. I quite envied you your lovely long hair, too. How have you come to work here?” As I said the words, it was strange, but the room seemed to go around. In an effort to dispel the unnerving sensation I sat myself bolt upright and rubbed my temples. That helped to clear my head a little.

“Oh, it’s a long story, Miss Jennifer. My dad had left us a long time before, and when my mom died, I was left needing both a job and a place to live. I was so thankful when Mrs Bell took me on. It was so good of her.”

I suspected that Madeleine’s motives were probably mixed and had no doubt that she would be getting her money’s worth. I shook my head doubtfully and immediately regretted doing so. I was beginning to feel distinctly odd.

“There are some things she likes me to do for her that I wasn’t sure about at first, but it can be quite fun. Everyone has their little ways.”

“Things?” I probed. From my previous intimate knowledge of her employer and some of her preferences, I didn’t like to imagine what ‘things’ might be required of a girl in her dependent situation.

“Mmm… things.”

“Aah!” My exclamation was not occasioned by her response. The nature of those particular services was to remain unclarified. My gasp was caused by my increasing dizziness. The room really did go round this time, and I began to wonder why it was happening. Perhaps I had consumed the glass of milk too quickly. Why had it not agreed with me? There had been a curious aftertaste, almost metallic, I recalled. A strange feeling of remoteness was taking hold of my senses. I placed my hand on my brow and the whole room went round again. I shuddered and held onto the bed for support.

“Are you quite well, Miss Jennifer?” As an expression of sympathy Consuela’s tone seemed to lack genuine concern.

“I think I must have swallowed that too fast” I murmured. “I’ll just sit for a minute. Oh…!”

I dimly heard her say “You will be okay” as she moved closer to me. The maid regarded me appraisingly for a moment then declared “There’s one thing more we have to do. Let’s finish getting you dressed.”