Numbered

Chapter Ten

Kylie’s hands were numb from all the scrubbing she had done. Madame Worth had informed her this morning they were hosting a dinner party. She had thrown her a black skirt and a white button-down shirt with a bow tied at the neckline. Her other dress had gotten a little shabby, she’d said, although Kylie saw nothing wrong with it. She’d also given her some cover make-up for the fading bruise on Kylie’s face. Kylie thought she’d saw an apology in her eyes when she handed her it.

Michel had arrived early and was preparing the main meal; roasted quail, in the oven. Kylie had been to the shops earlier for all the ingredients, and they were all laid out carefully on the kitchen worktop.

She looked up from her mopping when the door opened. Jared walked through, a smile spreading on his face when he saw her.

“Evening,” he said. “Getting ready for tonight?”

She nodded, eyeing his red flannel shirt and dark frayed jeans. There was a pair of aviator sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked good dressed down.

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “Let me guess, you’re wearing a black suit tonight?”

He laughed. “Are you mocking me, Miss Fairs?”

She smirked. “I have good reason. All you wear is black suits. Not that I want you to dress in bright pink.”

She threw the mop into the bucket and rinsed it out.

“I’m dreading the guests tonight,” he muttered. “Some of father’s colleagues. Officials. All they do is complain. No-one’s allowed to put a foot wrong.”

“I better stay out of the way then,” she joked.

“Consider yourself lucky not to have to sit at that table with them,” he replied, shaking his head.

Kylie smirked. “The sole benefit of being a maid.”

Jared walked to his room to get dressed while Kylie put Michel’s finished desserts in the fridge to cool. He’d made two extra desserts, for themselves.

Minutes later, the door opened again, with Mr and Mrs Worth walking in, arm-in-arm, followed by an entourage of guests in business suits and cocktail dresses. Kylie couldn’t hide her wrist in time.

She watched as flickers of disdain flashed across some of the guests’ faces. Their looks quickly disappeared when Mr Worth showed them around the living room, pointing out the state-of-the-art instalments in the apartment. He looked smug.

Kylie put some white wine glasses on a tray and offered them to the guests. One woman, a 4, accepted it with a smile and a ‘thank you’ which Kylie thought was a rare occurrence. She smiled at Kylie and stretched her hand out.

“Helena Woodall,” she said.

She had white-blonde hair cut into a perfectly-coifed bob, and she wore no make-up. She was wearing a grey shift dress, which was modest compared to the other women around her. Her accent wasn’t as posh as the others here – it had a twang to it, which suggested she lived out of town.

“Kylie Fairs,” Kylie replied. She wasn’t sure how to act around this woman, who treated her like another guest, not like a maid.

“A pleasure to meet you,” she said. “It’s not often I’m invited to parties like this.”

“Helena, thank God you’re here,” Jared interrupted, bumping shoulders with Kylie. “I was beginning to think I’d be the only one faking laughter at these people’s political jokes.”

Helena gave Kylie a knowing glance. “If I’m honest, I can’t stand the rest of these stuck-up guests.”

“Great minds think alike,” Jared replied. He was wearing a navy suit this time with a red tie; he must have taken Kylie seriously.