of those.
He met Louise in the Monk’s Retreat. Tired from work but fascinated by his self-titled role as butler to the wealthy Mr. Saunders, she agreed to come back to Holly House. She’d been a little tipsy when he found her at the bar, and wrapped herself around him in the taxi. They had an hour before her introduction to the boss.
“Nice flat,” she said as she stumbled inside, giggling. Louisa opened the door to the bedroom and peeked in. “What a bed!” she shrieked, and tumbled onto the mattress.
“Very comfy.” Joel slid one hand under her shirt. He kissed her hard on the lips, then more softly as he followed the curve of her neck.
“Just a minute…” She struggled with the buttons on her blouse, popping them open one by one, her fingers clumsy. As her shirt fell open, he caught sight of the milky white skin beneath. She unhooked the front of her bra, and let her small, pert breasts free.
“Mmm,” Joel lowered himself to her, licking and teasing the nipples with his tongue.
Louisa had her hands on the waistband of his jeans.
“I’ll help you, shall I?” He unbuckled his belt, and released the top button. “Hold on…” He reached over to the top drawer of his dresser. The day before, he’d bought a box of condoms. If this was to be his line of work, then he’d better make sure he protected his assets. The rubber rolled down easily, and he eased into her seconds later.
By the time eight o’clock came round, he’d finished with Louise. Her tipsiness seemed less pronounced, but the sex had made her jolly and compliant. He led her to the lounge door and knocked.
“Good evening,” Mr. Saunders said as he opened the door. He sniffed slightly at the air. For a moment, Joel wondered if his boss could smell the sex. The old man took one of Louise’s hands and kissed the back lightly.
“Hello,” she said. “Nice to meet you.” Her eyes met the old man’s, the gaze holding. She didn’t even glance back as she was led into the room. The door snapped shut behind her, leaving Joel alone in the hall.
For the first time, he felt a pang of jealousy. The boss had taken her away and she’d not so much glanced over her shoulder at him to say goodbye. He waited outside the entrance to his flat, listening, waiting. Maybe the old guy would be quick, and she’d come back to him.
As he retreated back into flat, he heard a muffled thud from the lounge. He froze, his ears tuned towards the main house. A suppressed scream followed a second thump. Joel crossed the hall in two strides, his hand up, ready to bang on the door. He was not supposed to bother the boss, no matter what. Joel backed away. Then a thought came to him.
Outside, night had fallen hard, the overcast sky stealing any starlight. Joel picked his way around the perimeter of the house, stopping by the windows to the lounge. He stood back, sheltering behind the trunk of an oak tree. The old man was sat in one of the large armchairs, dabbing the sides of his mouth with a handkerchief. On a sofa beside him, Louise lay asleep on the cushions.
Huh. I must have tired her out, Joel thought, and continued to peer in through the window, searching for signs of a struggle. Louise rolled over. Mr. Saunders turned towards her, got up from his seat, and kneeled awkwardly on the rug. He lent down, Joel backing away as a kiss was placed on the side of her neck. In a soft spot that smelled of Sunflowers. The place he’d kissed not an hour before.
Back in his flat, lying on the bed he’d shared with Maz and then Louise, Joel wondered what he’d got himself into. He was going to have to exercise some restraint with the companions he fetched for the boss. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers. Sleep came fast, a dark dreamless state from which he woke with a start.
An envelope had been shoved under his door. Words, written in the spidery text of the old man, read: Thank you for last night’s companion. Louise was indeed a sweet young girl. I have included a small extra bonus. Buy a razor and cut your hair.
Joel stared at the note, turned over the envelope in search of a signature or anything else. But no. Just the thanks and an order. He counted the money, and found an extra twenty pound bill. He pocketed the cash, and left for Tilehurst train station.
He returned a few hours later with a short back and sides, a new Gillette and another bag of clothing, this time from Marks and Spencers. He hadn’t been followed as he chose underwear and pajamas. In Waterstones, he picked up a cooking book and resolved to learn to cook.
On his week’s anniversary, Mr. Saunders pushed the allowance under the door, a note scribbled on the back. He required company for the night.
As Joel passed by the front of Reilly’s Pool Hall, Smithy came out the entrance, and bounded down the concrete steps to the pavement.
“Hi-ya,” Joel called out.
Smithy nodded, zipped his jacket against the wind, and walked past.
“Oi, Smithy!” Joel reached out, and grabbed at him.
“What the fuck you want?” his friend wrenched from his grasp.
“It’s me, you wally. Joel.”
“No.” Smithy squinted at him. “What the fuck happened to you, mate?” He stepped up to Joel, and gave him a back slapping hug. “Been missing you, had some skunk the other day. Had to smoke it with Jeremy, and he spent the whole time going on about Alex. You know what he’s like. But look at you. Did you win the lottery or what?”
“Got myself this butlering gig in Tilehurst. Helping out this old geezer. He’s a bit of an eccentric, but he don’t ask much of me.”
“You? A butler?” Smithy let out a roar of laughter. “You’re fucking kidding me!”
“If you can keep the noise down, you can come over one night. I’ve a stellar pad. Got my own flat and all.”
“Always the quiet ones.” Smithy took a box of cigarettes from his pocket. “Want one?”
Joel stared at the box for a second. “You seen Maz around?” He took a Camel from the pack, and popped it in the corner of his mouth.
“Funny you ask. She’s not been at work all week.” Smithy lit his cigarette, and tossed the lighter over.
“She having problems at work?”
“Nah. Not as far as I know. I went down there yesterday, with some green she’d ordered. Found out then. Why, when’d you last see her?”
“Tuesday.” He dragged on the Camel, wondering where she’d gone.
“Look, I gotta go, mate. See ya round.” Smithy left him by the steps to the pool hall, smoking and thinking. Smithy let out a cackle as he rounded the corner of the street. “A butler,” he said loudly, and laughed again as he walked out of sight.
Joel wandered around Reading, trying to figure out where to pick up a girl. He should take some of the cards from a phone booth, and call one of the numbers. Or search in the Thompson’s for massage parlors and escort services. The boss had mentioned prostitutes, so he must be expecting to pay. Finding himself going in circles, Joel stopped in front of a pub on the corner next to the Oracle. He opened the door, hoping to get lucky one more time. He checked his watch, he’d better hurry up if he was to make the eight o’clock deadline.
The first woman he ordered a drink for said thanks, picked up her wine, and retreated to the opposite end of the pub. But the second, a slightly older lady, with long loose hair, and a smart suit, accepted, and patted the stool next to her.
“I’m Lyn,” she said, and extended a hand.
Joel wasn’t sure whether he should kiss the back or shake. An image of his boss came to mind, and he chose to pull her hand to his mouth and touch his lips gently to her flesh.
“A gentleman.” She smiled, and sipped at her drink, her eyes fixed on his.
She was easy to get into a taxi, convincing her she must meet his employer a little harder. She wanted to jump Joel, and he had a suspicion Lyn thought he was for hire. At Holly House, he left her mesmerized by Mr. Saunders, dashed back into his flat, out the front door, and to the shadow of the oak.
In the lounge, Mr. Saunders had Lyn by the arm as he escorted her through the chairs towards the fireplace. Yello
w light flickered over the pair and his boss took her into his embrace. The old man withdrew. Joel rubbed at his eyes.
Surely not?
He moved a little closer, not believing his eyes. Mr. Sanders had changed. No longer was his face a map of laughter and frown lines. At least, not that Joel noticed. The eyes of his boss glowed cat-yellow. Lyn’s head lolled on the old man’s shoulder, sleepy and acquiescent. Mr. Saunders opened his mouth, revealing two long, sharp teeth. Then he lent towards the woman’s neck, his mouth closed over her flesh.
“Holy shit.” Joel stumbled backwards, and tripped on one of the oak tree’s roots. He ran back around the house, and into his flat, his heart thumping hard. He locked the door, and threw the security chain. Then he checked all the windows, and before he dared attempt sleep, braced a chair against the door he shared with the main house.
Despite his precautions, Joel rolled about in bed, thinking of the women he’d delivered to his boss, the murderer. Early the next morning came the familiar swish of the envelope being pushed under his door. On the back, a note: I require another lady for tonight. I am still hungry for companionship. Inside, the bonus in twenty pound notes.
Two weeks ago, he’d been living day to day in a shitty little bed-sit. No one would hire him because of his criminal record. He spread the money from the envelope on the table, touching each crisp note in turn.
He boiled the kettle, and fixed a cup of tea. He took his time