by Ray Gordon
Having cleaned the kitchen, Hayley made her way up to her room. She thought Belinda would have been around to show her the ropes; after all, this was her first day at Hadleigh Manor and it was all very unfamiliar to her. Sitting on the edge of her bed she sighed; if she was going to be regularly left alone in the house like this life would be as boring as it had been in her home village. Perhaps she'd expected too much from her new life.
'Ah, Hayley,' Michael Philips said, suddenly appearing in the open doorway and startling her a little. 'Is everything all right? Are you settling in okay?'
'Yes, sir, I think so,' she replied, standing up. 'But your lunch... I put it on the table at one o'clock as instructed but—'
'Sorry about that, but we had to go into town unexpectedly,' he said, moving into the room and pointing at the chair by the dressing table. 'May I?'
'Yes, yes of course,' Hayley said, sitting back down on the edge of her bed.
'Although somewhat belatedly, may I offer you a warm welcome to Hadleigh Manor?' Michael said, and Hayley smiled at him, feeling a little more reassured by his presence. 'At times this place is as quiet as a morgue and at other times it's like Piccadilly Circus, but you'll soon get used to it. Have you any questions, anything you want to ask me?'
'No, I don't think so,' she said.
'Don't hesitate to shout if you need me,' he told her cheerfully. 'Belinda's still in town, by the way, but she will be back for dinner.'
'Is it still dinner at six o'clock, sir?' she asked, not wanting to have her efforts go to waste again.
'Yes, that'll be fine,' he confirmed.
'I want to get things right,' Hayley said, brushing her golden fringe back from her brow. 'I don't think I got off to a very good start with your wife this morning. I gave her instant coffee instead of filtered and she seemed pretty annoyed with me.'
'I wouldn't worry too much about Belinda,' he said reassuringly. 'As I said earlier, her bark is worse than her bite. The secret is to do exactly as she says and, obviously, don't argue with her.'
'Oh, I would never argue with her, sir,' she insisted.
'And neither would I,' he laughed. 'But in all seriousness, in the car she was saying how much she likes you, so you've no need to worry.'
'Really?' Hayley brightened up at hearing that endorsement.
'Yes really,' he chuckled. 'You two will be just fine. I'm sure she'll have no need to punish you.'
Hayley frowned, wondering whether she'd misheard him. 'I'm sorry, sir?' she said cautiously. 'Did you say punish me?'
'She's a stickler for discipline, Hayley,' he continued. 'Discipline and obedience, but you'll be just fine. And I'm certain that you and I will be just fine, too,' he added, gazing at the firm shape of her breasts within her blouse. 'You're a very pretty girl. Very pretty indeed, and I'm sure we're going to get on extremely well together.' Hayley blushed, his words making her feel uncomfortable. 'Well, I'd better get back to the studio,' he said breezily, lifting the suddenly tense atmosphere that threatened to unsettle her. 'If there's anything you need, my dear, just shout.'
As he left the room Hayley pondered on his words. 'I'm sure she'll have no need to punish you.' Wondering what he meant, she went to the tiny dormer window and looked out across the grounds. She had already been feeling anxious, and Michael Philips hadn't helped. Why, and more to the point, how would Belinda punish her? Send her to her room? Withhold part or even all of her wages? Hayley was building a picture of the woman in her mind, and she didn't like it at all - cold, moody, and impossible to please. Hayley was beginning to feel very homesick.
Noticing Belinda emerging from the woods, Hayley frowned. Had she walked back from town and taken a shortcut? Then seeing the gardener emerge from the woods too, she thought that Belinda must have been to talk to him about his work. But Michael had just said that his wife was still in town...
Deciding it was unimportant as she heard the backdoor close and Belinda call up the stairs from the hall, she left her bedroom and met her female boss coming up on the landing. 'Yes, ma'am?' she enquired.
'I need to talk to you,' the woman said indifferently. 'Come to my room.'
'Is everything all right, ma'am?' Hayley asked, following the woman into her bedroom.
'No, everything is not all right,' the woman snapped. 'Why were you watching me in the garden?'
Hayley frowned. 'Watching you, ma'am? I wasn't watching you—'
'I saw you at your window,' Belinda cut in. 'You were watching me.'
'I was only...'
'Don't argue with me, girl. You've been into the woods, haven't you?'
'Yes, I went for a walk earlier,' she admitted, thinking she'd done nothing wrong. 'After I'd prepared your lunch for you,' she couldn't help but add to make a point.
'The woods are out of bounds to you, do you understand?'
Why should the woods be out of bounds? 'I'm sorry, but I—'
'Do you understand me?' the woman interrupted again.
Hayley understood the words, of course, but she didn't understand the reason for them being uttered. 'Yes, ma'am,' she said, feeling crestfallen at being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner, and crestfallen about having inexplicable and unfair restrictions put upon her movements.
'I'm having a guest for dinner this evening,' the woman said, quickly changing the subject. 'So I want you to dress properly.'
Hayley was confused. What did she mean about dressing properly?
'Try that on,' she said, pointing to a black skirt hanging over the back of a chair. 'Well, what are you waiting for?'
Uneasy with having to change in front of her new employer, Hayley reluctantly slipped her skirt off and placed it on the chair. The new skirt looked shorter, she thought, stepping into it and pulling it up her legs, and tugging the zip at her hip up she knew she couldn't wear it; the waist was about right, but the hem was so high she'd not be able to bend over without exposing her panties to anyone glancing in her direction. Catching Belinda's gaze as she nodded approvingly, she recalled her boss's words. 'The secret is to do exactly what she says and, obviously, don't argue.'
'Why are you wearing tights?' Belinda asked her belligerently. 'I distinctly remember telling you to wear stockings. Can't you do anything right? Take these,' she said, snatching a suspender belt and a pair of stockings from a drawer. 'Go and change and then come back and show me.'
'Um, yes, ma'am,' Hayley said meekly, taking the garments and grabbing her skirt from the chair.
Returning to her room and closing the door behind her, she let out a long sigh. Why was Belinda so temperamental and so aggressive towards her? The woods were out of bounds, the coffee was the wrong type, she should have worn stockings, her hair wasn't right...
Eyeing the new skirt in the mirror she sighed again. She couldn't understand why Belinda wanted her to wear such a short one, and with stockings and suspenders too. 'Do exactly what she says and don't argue,' she muttered as she put the delicate items on.
'Oh goodness!' she gasped, again eyeing her reflection in the mirror, the triangular patch of her white cotton panties clearly visible between her thighs as she raised her arms and the hem of the skirt lifted a little. She could see that she was going to have to stand up to Belinda. There was no way she was going to walk around the house dressed so immodestly, she decided, again leaving her room. She wouldn't argue; she would just be firm and insist that she wanted to wear her own skirt.
'Ah, that's much better,' Belinda said, smiling as Hayley knocked and entered her bedroom. 'You keep doing as I say and we're going to get on very well together.'
'Yes, ma'am,' Hayley said, trying to pluck up the courage to complain about the skirt. 'I... don't you think the skirt's rather short, ma'am?'
'Short?' the woman snorted. 'Of course it's not too short. You have lovely legs, young lady, so why hide them?'
'Well, I just thought it's rather—'
'Now, tea I think,' the woman went on without listening to Hayley's objection. 'Yes, I'd like
a nice cup of tea. Go and make me one and I'll be down in a minute.'
Hayley bit her lip as she descended the stairs, feeling acutely self-conscious in her new clothes. She generally wore jeans and a T-shirt; she was a country girl at heart and she felt most comfortable in casual clothing. But she wasn't in her home village now, she reminded herself. She was the housekeeper at Hadleigh Manor and she had to look the part, not that she'd ever imagined that would mean wearing such a short skirt and stockings.
Hearing Belinda walking down the stairs she decided she had to say something to register her opposition to her uniform. There was no way she was going to serve at the dinner table dressed like this.
'I don't want you to feel nervous,' Belinda said with a hint of sympathy, sitting at the large pine kitchen table as Hayley poured her a cup of tea. 'I realise you must be feeling a little anxious as it's your first day with us, but I don't want you to worry about anything.'
'Yes, ma'am,' Hayley replied, placing the steaming cup of tea on the table.
'I thought we'd have trout with boiled potatoes for dinner,' Belinda murmured abstractly, sipping her tea. 'Nothing too difficult on your first day, and I'll help you on this occasion. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other a little better.'
Perhaps Belinda wasn't so bad after all, Hayley thought. She'd said that she was pleased with her progress, and now she'd even offered to help with the evening meal. And Michael Philips seemed like quite a nice man, she reflected. Perhaps things weren't going to be too bad after all, although she was still unhappy about her skirt. Deciding that this was the right time to say something about it, she smiled at Belinda. 'Um, about my uniform, ma'am,' she began hesitantly.
'Yes, what about it?' Belinda asked, placing her teacup in its saucer. 'There's nothing wrong with it, is there?'
'No, no, it's just that—'
'You look lovely in it, Hayley,' she carried on. 'Quite enchanting.'
Hayley tried again to get a word in. 'Thank you, ma'am, but I—'
Belinda scrutinised her suspiciously. 'You're not having second thoughts about the job, are you? I sincerely hope you're not. Not after we were good enough to offer it to you in favour of the countless other perfectly suitable applicants we had. Some were more suitable than you, in fact, but my husband convinced me to select you over them.'
'Um, no ma'am, thank you ma'am, it's just that—'
'Good, that's settled then. Right, I have one or two things to do, and then I'll be down in about an hour to help you get ready for this evening.'
Hayley opened her mouth to try again to voice her concerns about her attire, but with no more success than before.
'Oh, I almost forgot,' the woman went on breezily, turning back at the kitchen door to look at the flustered girl, 'don't wear a bra in future. It shows through your blouse and disrupts the neatness of your appearance. And I'm very much a stickler for my staff always looking just so, as you'll find out.'
Back up in her tiny attic bedroom, Hayley was having second thoughts about her new job. The short skirt revealing her suspenders and panties was bad enough, but now to be ordered not to wear a bra beneath her blouse? What her parents would say about such an instruction she dreaded to think.
Closing the door and unbuttoning and removing her blouse, she slipped her bra off and looked down at her firm nipples, just as the door barged open and Michael Philips breezed in. 'Hayley,' he said, his eyes instantly fixing on the naked perfection of her breasts.
'Oh!' Hayley gasped, folding her arms over her bosom. 'I thought you were down in your studio and I...'
'Don't mind me,' he chuckled. 'I just wanted to ask you—'
'I do mind you barging in here,' she returned instinctively, blushing deeply. 'Please, I'm half naked and I'd rather you weren't in here.'
'Er, yes, right,' he acknowledged. 'Perhaps I'll come back and see you later.'
'Yes, please do,' Hayley insisted, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as he gazed down at her short skirt.
'You really are a very pretty thing,' he murmured as he turned and left the room.
Her heart racing, Hayley made a mental note to lock her door in future. Why hadn't he knocked before rudely barging in? It was only good manners to do so.
Putting her blouse back on she returned to the kitchen, took three dinner plates from a cupboard and placed them on a trolley. As she bent to do so her blouse gaped open at the top, exposing the upper slopes of her breasts, and she knew she'd be mortified with embarrassment when serving dinner. If she leaned over to serve her breasts would be in danger of being exposed, and if she bent down or reached up her suspenders and panties would be displayed. She couldn't win! This was ridiculous, she thought angrily; she was supposed to be a housekeeper, not a caricature of a flirty French maid.
Feeling despondent as she laid the dining room table, she squealed with shock when a face appeared at the window. It quickly disappeared again, and she thought it might have been the gardener. Holding a hand to her throat as her heart raced she realised she was trembling like a leaf. There was something very strange about Hadleigh Manor and it was making her feel decidedly nervous.
Feeling distinctly uneasy, she moved to the window and looked out across the garden. There was no one in sight, but she was sure she'd seen a man's face peering in at her.
Just then Belinda bustled into the dining room, and Hayley could instantly tell she was in a bad mood again. 'Dinner's been cancelled,' she snapped. 'Stop what you're doing and clear everything away.'
'Oh,' Hayley was shocked but such an abrupt change of plans, 'but why—'
'It's cancelled, that's all you need to know,' the woman said, before storming out again and leaving the girl feeling uncertain and unhappy.
Chapter 2
Back upstairs that evening, her first day's duties completed, Hayley changed into her jeans and T-shirt and tied her hair back. She felt despondent, and disappointed with her first impressions of Hadleigh Manor and its owners. Nothing had gone right from the minute she'd arrived. Perhaps hearing her mother's voice would cheer her up, she mused, deciding to walk down the lane to the phone box she'd noticed before. Her mobile couldn't get a signal where they were, which was a pain, and she didn't feel like asking Michael or Belinda Philips if she could use their telephone.
Leaving the house she made her way along the drive, the evening sun and fresh air relaxing her. In her spare time she'd get away, she decided, and enjoy the tranquillity of the lovely countryside.
Deciding to tell her mother that things were fine with her new job and home and she was happy, she thought she'd give it a few days before coming to a final decision on whether to stay or not. To leave after only one day would be silly. She had to give it a fair crack of the whip; otherwise she'd always wonder what might have been.
A little way along the hedge-lined lane Hayley spotted a middle-aged woman strolling towards her. 'Good evening,' the woman said as they drew closer to each other.
'Good evening,' Hayley politely returned. 'It's a lovely evening for a nice walk.'
'Yes, it is,' the woman concurred, stopping and studying Hayley from head to toe. 'I haven't seen you around here before,' she said. 'Are you a local girl?'
'As of today I am, yes,' Hayley told her. 'I live at Hadleigh Manor.'
'Hadleigh Manor?' the woman echoed, frowning at her.
'Yes, I work for Michael Philips and his wife,' the girl elaborated.
'Michael Philips?' the woman frowned. 'I've never heard of him.'
'Michael Philips the record producer.' Clearly the woman was too old to have heard of a music celebrity.
'So what happened to old Mrs Stevenson?'
'Who's Mrs Stevenson?' Hayley asked, beginning to feel a little confused. 'I've not heard her name mentioned before.'
'She's lived at Hadleigh Manor for decades,' the woman snorted. 'She's a bit of an old recluse. She never sets foot outside the house. I suppose she must have sold up and moved to the coast, or something like that.'
/>
'Yes, I suppose so,' Hayley murmured, again thinking there was something very odd about Hadleigh Manor. 'I was under the impression that Mr and Mrs Philips have lived there for years.'
'Well, it's news to me,' the woman said. 'I know most things that go on around here, but I've heard nothing about the old lady moving.
'Ah well,' the elderly lady brightened, 'it's nice to have met you, my dear.'
'And you,' Hayley said, smiling as the woman walked on.
When Hayley stepped off the train that morning, a porter helped with her suitcase and asked her where she was going. She'd thought nothing of it when he said he'd never heard of Michael Philips - but now? Intrigued and confused, she decided to go back and take a look in the woods to see if there was a gardener's outbuilding there. Earlier in the day he'd mysteriously disappeared amongst the trees, and now they were out of bounds to her. What secrets did the woods conceal? Something was going on, she thought, returning to the grounds of the manor and slipping into the dense undergrowth beyond the lawns.
Glancing about her as she again made her way along the winding track, she noticed a small brick building she'd not seen before and ducked behind a bush in case anyone was there who might spot her. Deciding it was an old air raid shelter she waited for several minutes, checking the coast was clear before emerging from her hiding place and cautiously moving towards it.
Pushing the creaky old door open, she was about to venture inside when she heard twigs cracking underfoot and voices in the distance, and without thinking twice she quickly and silently retraced her steps and made her way back to the gardens like a frightened rabbit. She didn't want Belinda or some creepy gardener to catch her in the woods where she shouldn't be.
Calming her breathing and walking back towards the house, she realised she'd not even phoned her mother. She'd do it tomorrow evening instead.
Entering the house by the backdoor she was surprised to find Michael Philips waiting for her in the capacious hall, and looking extremely stern he asked her where she'd been.