Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,4

it was has gone.

So you’re the new one. The chosen one. I can see why she’s decided on you. That same fresh-faced, raw beauty, the same silky blonde hair. Eyes that are slightly too wide, a rosebud mouth, petite and skinny but with a full bust. All clichés. And they say that’s what men want. It seems women do too.

I followed you home. I watched you in your maroon woollen coat and your cheap boots as you tried to navigate the snow without falling. You care about what other people think of you. I saw the way you spoke to the bus driver, all demure smiles and fluttery lashes. Did you hope he’d find you attractive? I saw how you gave up your seat for the old lady with the sausage legs so that you had to stand in the aisle, reaching up to hold the bars above your head. Do you know you have a very small hole in the armpit of that coat? Are you really that nice? Or is it just for appearances? You’re a people-pleaser.

You live in a hovel. Of course you do. That’s why you’re so impressed with her airs and graces, her ridiculously expensive house and her money. All that money. But she’s as tight as arseholes. You’ll soon see. Oh, yes, you’ll soon regret taking that job.

2

Kathryn

Elspeth is perched on the edge of her favourite armchair as she chats into the receiver. Her eyes are burning with an excitement that Kathryn hasn’t witnessed for weeks.

She lets out a sparkling laugh, which sets Kathryn’s teeth on edge. ‘Oh, you are sweet,’ she coos. ‘Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Thank you for letting me know. See you on Saturday. Goodbye for now.’

Goodbye for now. Urgh. Kathryn feels queasy.

Elspeth replaces the handset in its cradle – she’s the only person Kathryn knows who still has a landline and refuses to own a mobile – and glances up at her daughter, her cheeks flushed. ‘That was Una. She’s managed to organize it so she can start in three days’ time.’

‘Of course she has,’ mutters Kathryn, under her breath, when her mother’s back is turned. No doubt Una Richardson is impressed by the grand house and the Clifton location, just like the others had been.

It’s five days since the interview, and every subsequent day that’s passed Kathryn has tried to talk her mother out of hiring Una – hiring anyone – but Elspeth McKenzie has always been a stubborn woman who has never taken Kathryn’s advice. Why would she start now?

As soon as Kathryn had opened the door to Una Richardson last week, and seen that elfin face, those big grey eyes and her long swishy blonde hair, she’d known she’d get the job. Her mother’s like a magpie the way she swoops in on beautiful things: a dress, a piece of jewellery, a painting, a pretty face.

Kathryn has often wondered how her life would have turned out if she’d given her mother two delicate blonde granddaughters instead of large-boned, boisterous grandsons. They’d have been invited around for Sunday lunch a lot more. And maybe she would have felt that she truly belonged to this family. She would have watched with a sense of pride as her mother fawned over them, doting on them, instead of the polite indifference she doles out to her grandsons.

Kathryn steps into the sitting room, pulling on her coat. She needs to get back to Ed and the boys. It’s past their dinner-time and she doubts her husband would have thought about what to cook, even though she’d given him clear instructions this morning on what was in the freezer. ‘How will you cope for the next three days before Una starts?’

She knows all too well that her mother will be fine. Because, the truth is, she doesn’t really need someone to care for her. She has Aggie the cook, Carole the cleaner, and an ever-changing stream of gardeners and handymen on call. She’s perfectly capable of caring for herself because she has more than enough money to fund every whim. No, the problem with her mother is that she can’t bear to be on her own, even for a few hours. She’s never been at ease in her own company, like Kathryn has. Even as a younger woman, Elspeth had to fill her days with events or errands so that every hour was accounted for. It was as though she thrived on the hustle and bustle and general business