The Cleaning Job

by Pea Jung

  “Oh, great!” my mother beams.

  I am excited as well because we haven’t managed to pick ourselves up to cook anything. My joy is marred, however, as Walter says: “Mr. Held has correctly suspected that we wouldn’t have any food at home since you’ve only just been released from the hospital. And therefore, he has invited us.”

  “I just remembered… I still have to pack. I… I… I’m going back to my apartment today,” I sputter dimly and jump up.

  “Tell me, Josefine. What exactly is going on with you and Mr. Held?”

  “Nothing,” I lie and put my hands in the back pockets of my jeans.

  “He expressly invited you,” says Walter.

  My mother can’t hold back an “Oh!” of surprise.

  Quickly I justify my nervousness and stammer: “I… He… He was once at the bar where I worked and… and he wasn’t on his best behavior. I didn’t know who he was. And when I met him last night, it was very… awkward.”

  “Something in his manners indicated that we absolutely have to convince you that you’re coming. It’s also important for me, Josi. He is my main investor at the clinic. Do it for me, yes?” Walter looks at me pleadingly and I agonize over my answer.

  “The hospital has nothing to do with me.”

  “Please, Josefine, if it’s important to Walter” my mother adds.

  And I am indeed indebted to Walter. “Well, if I must. But don’t expect me to smile and wave all night.”

  “You don’t have to wave!” My mother is in a good mood, but I am grinding my teeth.

  “When do we leave?” I ask snappily and Walter mumbles: “Half an hour.”

  I leave the terrace but can still hear Walter inquiring as to whether my mother is really fit enough for a visit. Won’t someone ask me that? Who says that I am fit enough to face this guy again?

  Also, I’m now facing a small problem. If I get changed especially for this evening, then it will appear to Marek as if I have made myself pretty just for him. However, if I stay as I am, then that won’t look good to my parents.

  I opt for a compromise. I leave on the thin sweater I’ve been wearing all day, but swap the old jeans for a pair of black trousers. Of course, I could provoke him with a short skirt and watch his reaction. No, not a good idea! Maybe I should vacuum a little, while the others are busy with their food? I have to smile and catch myself actually looking forward to the evening.

  Walter’s voice breaks me out of my daydreaming: “Josefine? Time to go.”

  The journey takes half an eternity. “Which restaurant are we going to?” I ask after a while.

  “Not a restaurant,” Walter clears his throat. “We are invited to his home.”

  “What?” I almost scream and provoke a surprised look from my mother, who turns to me irritated. “Umm, I mean… what… what will we have to eat?”

  Walter shrugs his shoulders. “His girlfriend is cooking.”

  I would now like to cross myself and send a fervent prayer to the heavens. But since I’m probably unknown up there, I think better of it. Why is this guy doing this to me? I hate him.

  He lives in the middle of the city in a modern new building. On the way from the car to his apartment, I intend to pull myself together. In the presence of my mother and Walter, I feel suddenly like a crazy 17-year-old, who has been invited to dinner at their teacher’s house, with whom she is secretly in love. That isn’t all true.

  Marek opens the door of his apartment to us, and we ride the elevator to the third floor. Now he shakes my mother’s hand on her healthy arm, then he greets Walter and finally I’m standing there in front of him.

  “Hello, Josefine,” he says quietly and holds out his hand.

  “Ha…hallo, Marek,” I answer, not so easily. He smiles at me kindly, and I grind my teeth, which makes him smile even wider. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a white polo shirt and of course, looks good enough to eat.

  Marek takes us through the stunning apartment to an already-covered dining table. “Sit down. I’ll tell the chef that you’re here.”

  Slowly I understand why he has invited us. He wants to make it clear to me that he is in an absolutely happy relationship and is interested in me just as a cleaner. I’m curious to see what kind of woman he lives with and am amazed as a tall, slender woman emerges from the kitchen. Her long blonde hair only reinforces the impression of her narrow silhouette. Everything about this woman is narrow. The nose, the mouth, the fingers… just everything. Not that she doesn’t look feminine, but next to this noble swan-like creature I’m a voluptuous bombshell: small, round and curvier.

  The most unpleasant thing about my situation, however, is that I find this woman likable at first sight – if only she wasn’t his girlfriend.

  “Good evening,” whispers the woman and we are all as quiet as mice because her voice sounds so delicate. She smiles kindly and shakes hands with each of us. “I’m Lisa-Marie.”

  Her voice reminds me of the sound of a violin, so preternaturally beautiful and expressive. And how carefully she moves! He definitely cannot talk to this woman about his sexual preferences. She would never crawl around on the ground in front of him in a costume, never. She acts like a Queen, so elegant and yet innocent at the same time.

  Although I’m quite aware that Marek is closely observing my reaction to his girlfriend, I can not completely hide my pain. Nevertheless, I shake her hand. She barely touches me, her hand is cool, almost lifeless. Not that I look like Penelope Cruz, but if you were to compare Penelope Cruz with Gwyneth Paltrow, then you would be quite close to understanding the difference between us.

  “The food is nearly ready,” she trills and we prick up our ears so that we don’t miss anything.

  Marek makes a move to go to the kitchen with his girlfriend, but she whispers to him: “stay with the guests, Marek. I’ll do it.”

  After he has provided us with drinks, he sits down in the space next to me. “How are you, Ms. Probst?” he asks my mother politely and she replies: “With pain pills, I can get by quite well.”

  Lisa-Marie serves the food. There’s soup, salad, steak, baked potatoes, and a delicious dessert. While eating, I keep myself in the background and hardly take part in the conversation, which is completely unusual for me. Marek’s quiet girlfriend contributes more to the general conversation than I do. Although she speaks so softly, her voice radiates a lot of heat and warmth and her smile is contagious.

  I hate myself because I simply can’t not like her.

  Marek tears me from my thoughts. “Josefine, have you thought about a possible training position in the clinic?”

  “No.”

  My mother sends me a reproving look over the table because I’m so surly. But Walter jumps into the breach: “Josi is dealing with several changes in her life at the moment. She will find her way.”

  I feel Lisa-Marie’s curious gaze on me. “You are looking for an apprenticeship? How old are you?” she whispers.

  “31.”

  “Are you always so reticent?” she asks in her tender little voice.

  “No!” I bark back too loudly.

  “Josi!” Because I can’t miss the cautionary undertone in my mother’s voice, I sigh: “I’m sorry. I have several turbulent weeks behind me. I was let go from my job as a waitress.”

  “That must have been terrible.” Lisa-Marie’s pity makes me see red.

  “Oh well, you know, I deserved it. I had sex with my married boss,” I explain cooly.

  Walter almost chokes. But now I’m really on a roll, especially because I can see Marek’s fists clench.

  My mother is horrified. “Jörg? You slept with Jörg?”

  “Yes, Mom, but you needn’t be upset about it anymore. It’s been two years.” As I look at Lisa-Marie I add a snippy: “Apparently I have a special appea
l to men who are in solid relationships,”

  Walter tries to steer the conversation in another direction. “If you work with me, you don’t have to worry about your boss in any case. I’m not going to touch you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to work in the medical field.”

  “Where do you want to work?” asks Marek strictly. “Are you interested in a specific professional field?”

  “You mean apart from waitressing and cleaning?” Oh, I did it! He presses his palms together and I turn to Lisa-Marie. “What do you do then?”

  Lisa-Marie smiles. “I run a nail Design Studio.”

  Suddenly, Marek says next to me: “You could do an internship at my company.”

  “Sure!” I cut him off rudely.

  “Josi, you…” My mother wants to interfere, but my threatening look does not fail to affect her.

  Overly interested I ask Marek: “what area were you thinking of? Should I… clean?”

  Internally triumphant, I note that his jaw muscles are working, even though he responds, apparently calmly: “an internship doesn’t have to be in a particular activity. You could gain insight into all areas of my company. Maybe there is something, that… interests you?”

  Is he propositioning me? I do not believe it. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I murmur softly and our eyes meet briefly.

  His mouth is moved by a slight smile, and I turn again to Lisa-Marie: “Do you offer really intimate shaves in your studio?”

  My mother’s mouth hangs open, Walter laughs and Lisa-Marie turns red. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I can’t recommend them anyway. It itches like hell after a few days.”

  Marek slips around restlessly on his chair and I become cocky. My napkin sails to the ground and I bend over to pick it up. In doing so I stretch my behind against Marek pretty intrusively.

  “The food was really very good,” I hear my mother say while I spend more time with my head under the table as if it were really necessary.

  Just as I pop up again, Walter says: “I think you should accept the offer from Mr. Held. Do an internship with him and then an internship with me at the hospital. September is still a long way off and then you can consider whether you want to start a training course or not.”

  “Walter, I…,” I begin, as Marek intervenes loudly. “It’s just an internship, Josefine, not a marriage proposal!”

  I stop short as does Lisa-Marie, who, still blushing, stares at Marek baffled. He clears his throat and quickly adds: “It was just an example.”

  I lean over to Walter, put on my best smile, touch his arm and say: “I’d really very much like an internship in your clinic.”

  As we are on the way home a little later, my mother scolds: “You really did show terribly bad manners, the whole evening.”

  To do this, I say nothing. Of course I was bad mannered, but with good reason.

  Once home I pack immediately. At some point, Walter knocks on the door and stretches his head round the door.

  “May I?”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  “Your mother is asleep already. This evening was probably quite exhausting for her.” He looks at my suitcase and says: “You’re leaving us then?”

  “Yes. Let’s be honest, Walter. It’s better this way. I must get back to my apartment and look for a job.”

  “What about the internship?”

  “Forget about the internship. I’ll find something somewhere.”

  Walter sits down on my bed and watches as I stuff my clothes into the suitcase. We remain silently together for a while.

  “Tell me, Josi, I would be really interested to know exactly how Mr. Held behaved when he was at The Black Widow.”

  “Walter, I can not and may not tell you anything at all. Only this much: as an investor in the clinic he is certain to be a reliable business partner. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m not worried about my clinic, I’m worried about you.”

  “I can handle it.”

  Walter growls: “I’m not so sure. He was watching you all evening, Josi. Was there something between you?”

  “I really should be angry with you now for assuming I played the role of the evil mistress. But let me reassure you. I didn’t sleep with him. But I admit that we know each other better than I have so far admitted.”

  Walter doesn’t understand and I sit down next to him on the bed. “I’ve probably said too much already. But I signed a contract with him, through his lawyer. And if I tell you any more, he will take me to court and make mincemeat of me.”

  “Did he do something to you?” Walter growls.

  “No,” I reassure him immediately. “I worked for him for a month and we realized that it didn’t work. I can’t tell you anymore.”

  “You worked for him already? Why does he want you to do an internship with him then?”

  “I worked for him privately, completely unofficially and now he’s making a point.”

  Walter looks at me with big eyes and finally, he grins. “You really gave it to him. For a moment, I actually thought he might jump at you.”

  I laugh briefly and remember the moment when I completely ignored his offer. At that point, his girlfriend probably also noticed that the situation was strange. But it’s not my problem. He invited me and maybe now he will dare to talk to his girlfriend about his “cleaning craze”.

  A week later I’m finally back on my own couch and on the phone: “Yes Mom, I always keep an eye on the wanted ads… yes… yes… Of course I’m taking care of it… No, I will not be taking up Mr. Helds offer.”

  Just as I roll my tired eyes, my doorbell rings. “Mom, I have a visitor… Yes… goodbye.”

  I hasten to open the door. I stand speechless at my open door because none other than Daniela is standing there looking at me with wide eyes.

  “Hello, Josefine,” she says after an eternity.

  Reluctantly, I greet Jörg’s wife and she asks: “Can I talk to you?”

  “Yes, of course, come in!” I hope she’s not thinking of murdering me.

  A little later we’re both sitting in my kitchen with a cup of coffee and she asks: “have you found a job?”

  “No, without training it’s not exactly easy to find a position, at least not one which is paid well enough to live on.”

  Daniela nods. “Jörg had a new waitress. But she was a complete disaster. He never would tell me, but he wants nothing more than to have you back at The Widow again,” she says.

  “He loves you, Daniela. I hope you know that,” the words burst out of me. “I don’t want anything from him, I never have. It just happened. It wasn’t right, but it happened. We…”

  Daniela lays a hand on mine and I fall silent. “I was really, really mad at you when I heard that you slept with my husband.” She smiles at me.

  Why is she smiling when she says that?

  “But Jörg told me about his one-time fling a long time ago and we have put in a lot of effort to patch things up because we love each other.”

  “Of course you love each other,” I whisper quietly. “Honestly, if I could change my life, this mistake would be the first thing I would delete.”

  “Jörg isn’t so bad,” she smirks and I raise an eyebrow. Am I in the wrong movie?

  “Josi, the situation is as follows: after a few days where I wanted to torture you to death, I gradually came to the following conclusion. My husband didn’t cheat on me, because he was crazy about you, but because he was crazy about me, and I never wanted him. And then a crazy thought set in. If he had to cheat on me, then maybe it was better it was with you than with any mad slut.”

  “What?”

  “It sounds crazy, but all these years I thought that every woman I met could be my husband’s on
e night stand. It drove me insane. Knowing that you did it, reassures me somehow. I know that it may just have been a fluke because you’re friends, right?” She looks at me unsettled.

  “Of course. We are friends,” I confirm truthfully and notice her relaxing.

  “Friends need each other. I forced him to leave you in the lurch. But really I forced him to send away his most reliable, best employee. I’ve probably punished him more than you,” she whispers.

  “He will find somebody to replace me,” I say with a lump in my throat.

  Daniela looks at me seriously: “I’m here, because I want you to come back.”

  Chapter 22

  Approximately six months later

  Jörg calls from the kitchen: “Josi, do you have the table for Christmas dinner ready already?”

  “Yes, everything’s ready.”

  “Well, they just called to say that they’re coming early.”

  “That’s quite good, then we’ll have more breathing space after,” I call and turn to Herbert: “Beer, Herbert?”

  “Yes, but non-alcoholic,” I hear the words and cannot hide my surprise.

  Herbert grins. “I have set myself a maximum limit.”

  “I think that’s great.” Appreciative, I nod to him and take his empty glass.

  “Have you heard from Henry?” he calls after me.

  “No, not for quite a while.”

  “I saw him last week by chance. He said I should pass on his greetings. He also gave me his phone number. If the young lady is in trouble, she should call me, he said.”

  “Really? That’s really nice. Best we hang the number up on the wall behind the bar, just under the number for the police,” I joke.

  But Herbert nods seriously towards the wall. “Already done.”

  Amazed, I turn around to the magnetic board and discover a piece of paper. Under the name, Henry, is a phone number, and in parentheses behind it: Josi’s bodyguard. I guffaw and Herbert smiles at me.

  His teeth look somehow different. Not so rotten. “Have you been to the dentist?”