Free The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan by Alison Sherlock

of equal social standing. Until now, that was.
    ‘How’s Gerry?’ asked Charley, as they went into the hallway.
    The woman glanced over her shoulder. ‘I think we’d better keep it as Mr and Mrs Benedict,don’t you? I’m not sure I want to be on first name terms with my staff.’
    Charley blanched at the word ‘staff’ before meekly following Mrs Benedict towards the kitchen. Once there, she was shown the cleaning products and quickly set to work.
    But each time she went into a new room, she found Mrs Benedict would quickly follow her. Charley would smile, silently willing her customer to leave herto get on with her work. But the woman wouldn’t budge and obviously expected Charley to carry on cleaning in front of her.
    She was wiping down the sink in the downstairs bathroom when Mrs Benedict appeared once more.
    ‘Have you everything you need?’
    ‘Yes, thanks.’
    Charley found she hated anyone watching her whilst she cleaned, especially the toilets and bathrooms. It felt so degrading. Shewondered if there would ever be a time when she didn’t feel that way.
    The silence was unbearable so she made an effort at some small talk whilst she attacked the taps. ‘How old are your children?’
    ‘Bethany is six and Felix is eight. We’ve just taken him out of the local school. He’s showing intelligence far superior to the other children in his year so he’s gone private.’
    ‘Great.’
    ‘Bethanyis more of a creative child.’
    Ah. So she wasn’t blessed in the brains department, translated Charley.
    ‘She’s a natural actress, though. Always the star of the school plays. Last term she shone as part of the forest in Narnia.’
    The child had been in the star role of a tree?
    ‘How lovely,’ said Charley, with a fake smile. She was an actress too.
    ‘You will wipe down the tiles, won’t you? Andpolish them?’
    Thankfully Mrs Benedict didn’t wait for any reply and left the room. Charley could then allow herself the exasperated eye rolling which she had been saving herself from.
    Eventually she had finished the majority of the rooms downstairs and headed up to the bedrooms. She felt exhausted. Cleaning was so much harder than it looked. She had renewed respect for poor old Cinderella, notleast because she’d had an enormous castle to clean.
    She’d expected to enjoy cleaning the children’s bedrooms but these particular ones were slightly creepy. Although toys and drawings were in evidence, they were outnumbered by the amount of embroidered pictures hung on every wall.
Love Thy Mother and Father
, said the majority. Perhaps the kids needed reminding, thought Charley.
    She had beenhard at work for three hours when she finally began work on the kitchen. No offer of a refreshing drink had been forthcoming.
Love thy parents but never the cleaner
.
    Charley continued to scour, bleach and wipe every surface until her head was thumping from the heady smell of chemicals.
    She had just finished the kitchen floor when Mrs Benedict appeared.
    ‘My husband’s been in the en-suite andthinks the shower glass is looking a bit streaky. You will have another go at it before you leave, won’t you?’
    Charley couldn’t prevent herself in time from shooting her customer a long look. Although she had managed to fix a smile upon her face, her eyes must have betrayed her as Mrs Benedict quickly left the room again.
    Charley trudged back upstairs, hoping not to bump into the man of thehouse. Gerry Benedict had always invaded her personal space whenever she had met him. His reputation as the club’s resident creep was assured, as far as she was concerned.
    Charley went into the en-suite to discover that the shower door was only slightly smeared. It was streaky from cleaning products, not dirt, and the next time it was used, it would become spotty from the water again. But shepolished and rubbed the glass until the shine was bouncing off the walls.
    With a loud sigh to herself, she went back into the hallway to head