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  THE ADVERTISEMENT

by PHYLLIS OWEN

It was over a month since Jeanne had decided to leave her job and as she packed the last item into her suitcase she thought back to the day of her big decision – her thirtieth birthday!  She had been in her bed-sitter as usual.  It had been raining for the past two days and that day was a particularly unpleasant one.  She had sat watching the rain as it ran down the window.  Like tears, she had thought, wet and dreary like my life.

  Looking back it seemed like a thousand years since Philip, her fiance, had run off and married Kendal, her cousin.   Vivacious, carefree Kendal whom she had loved like a sister.  Philip, thinking of him still hurt.  She had trusted them implicitly and it had never occurred to her that they were two-timing her.  It was only after he had broken a couple of important dates that she suspected something wrong.  Kendal’s evasive answers when she tried to confide in her made Jeanne suspicious and finally she had demanded to know what was going on.  It had been a great shock and because the thought of a row was nauseating to her, she told them both quietly to get right out of her life.

   After they left she had stared for a long time into space.  There was nothing left, she thought drearily.  She was now alone.  Everything around her seemed dull and grey and lifeless.  She badly needed a shoulder to cry on but she had no one to turn to.  Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was only nine years old and an aged aunt brought her up, but she had subsequently died.  Dear Aunt Vicky, how warm and kind she had been.  Always happy to welcome any friend she chose to bring home.

  ‘This must stop,’ she said firmly to herself.  ‘I’m not going to dwell on the past.  What has happened is now over.  From now on my life is to be lived more positively.  I’ve wasted enough time on bitterness.’

  Then she spotted the advertisement in ‘The Mail.’ 

   Wanted – Housekeeper Companion with some first aid experience.

  Why not, she thought?  Could it be providence?  Then she noticed a small break in the storm clouds piled threateningly in the sky.  She smiled.  ‘In my teens a friend and I took a first aid course.  I still have my books.’

    The following few days were a hazy memory.  Everything happened so quickly.

  ‘Your new home is a farm off the main road just outside Macclesfield,’ said Debbie, the girl at the agency.  ‘The de Goede’s are well known and a very wealthy family.  The son has an accountancy firm in the city and since the death of his father, who was killed in a freak flying accident, a manager now runs the farm that has been in the family for about three generations.  Mrs de Goede had a nasty fall about three months ago when she broke her hip and since then has been bedridden.’  Debbie smiled at Jeanne as she handed her the Letter of Acceptance.  ‘We’ve had many dealings with the family and their integrity is above reproach.  I’m sure you’ll be very happy on the farm.’ She stopped, regarded Jeanne thoughtfully and continued, ‘Quite an interesting change of lifestyle for you.’

  Jeanne finished packing and after loading up her car with all her belongings, drove slowly away.  ‘That is the end of an era,’ she said adamantly, ‘and the beginning of a new one.’

  She had no difficulty in finding the way to her new destination.  Slackening speed as she turned up the driveway leading to the house, she began to feel excited and a little apprehensive.  After all, she did give up the security of a good position to come on a venture into the unknown.  It was with awe that she stared at the elaborately built well- proportioned brick house with large modern windows surrounded by a well cared for garden.  The lawns, shrubs and flowers gave one the impression of driving through a park.  Everything about the place looked affluent.  She stopped the car and walked to the front door that opened before she had time to ring the bell.  A plump woman in a blue overall stood smiling broadly in the doorway.

  ‘Miss Wiley?’ she asked.

  Jeanne nodded.

  ‘Mr de Goede said you were coming today.  Come in.   I’ll show you to your room.’  Her face glowed with pleasure as she went on, ‘Jansen, the gardener, will bring in your luggage and park your car.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jeanne began, and before she had time to ask her name she came in,  ‘My name’s Agnes.  I’m the housekeeper.’

  ‘Hello, Agnes,’ smiled Jeanne.

  They walked down a pretty wall papered passage to her room.  Jeanne gasped with delight as she entered.  There were soft yellow floral curtains and a bedspread of the same material.  The bedroom suite was white and so were the walls of the room.  Just above the bed was a water colour painting of yellow and white daisies that blended into the colour scheme as though it were painted with the room in mind.

  ‘Oh, Agnes, this is lovely,’ Jeanne said warmly.

  ‘I’m glad.  Mrs de Goede said you would like this room.’

  After unpacking her suitcases, Jeanne took her sponge bag along to the bathroom that Agnes had shown her and found it as delightful as her room.  Once again the colour scheme was yellow and white.  Printed tiles covered the walls from floor to ceiling and the bathroom suite was a pale lemon.  Whoever is responsible for the decorating has good taste, she thought, contentedly.  Her immediate future would be good, the distant future, who knows, but it was too far away to bother about.

  The water was piping hot and she added a few pine scented bath crystals from a jar she found on the shelf above the basin.  Later, as she dried herself she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in a rather misted mirror, and saw a girl with golden brown curly hair cropped close to a well shaped head and a rather plain face.  She had about her a calm and competent air with a defiant tilt to her chin.  Her most arresting characteristics were her large green eyes with heavy dark lashes.

  Back in her room she chose a cream pair of slacks and a sloppy green sweater that brought out the colour of her eyes to perfection.

  It was with a light heart and a smile of happiness that she walked with Agnes to her ‘charge’s room.

  She found Mrs de Goede, small and feather-like, in a large mahogany double bed.  Her silvery grey hair lay limply on the pillow, but her large grey eyes, emphasized by the thinness of her face, met Jeanne’s gaze smilingly.  In that instant Jeanne knew there was a bond between them.

  She let her eyes rove over the richness of the furnishings of the room.  Tall windows that looked out at the gardens were hung with deep blue velvet curtains.  A blue and white carpet covered the floor and on either side of the bed were spotless white sheepskin rugs.  Through a lightly open door she saw an adjoining bathroom of matching colours.

  ‘Hello, my dear.  I’m so happy to meet you,’ Mrs de Goede said, holding out a bony hand which Jeanne grasped.

  ‘I’m happy to be here,’ she said returning her smile.

  They chatted for a while and Mrs de Goede told Jeanne that at one time she dabbled in painting when her husband was still alive.  Her eyes welled up with tears and she turned her head away.

  Delvene de Goede, thought Jeanne, you and I are going to be good for one another.

  Just then Agnes bustled into the room followed by an elderly, heavily built man with arresting brown eyes.

  ‘Hello, Delvene, how are we today?’  His merry eyes twinkled as he winked at Jeanne.

  ‘This is Dr Jubber, Jeanne,’ explained Mrs de Goede.  ‘Rudi, meet Jeanne, my companion and friend.’

  After the introductions, Jeanne excused herself and left the room.  She met Agnes in the hall.

   ‘Mr de Goede wants to see you in his study,’ she said, pointing to a door next to the lounge.

  The door of the study opened immediately to her knock and she stepped into the room that was large and airy and once again, superbly furnished.  Her heart was racing as she looked into Stefan’s surprised face.  He was well over six foot tall.  She felt dwarfed next to him.

  ‘Please sit down,’ he said, indicating to a large leather chair.

  She slipped into the chair.

  He sat down and favoured her with a cool stare.  Jeanne decided she didn’t like him.  Superior and high minded, she thought.  She could not help but notice his thick black hair with a slight curl and he had the bluest eyes she had ever seen and they were looking through her with cold indifference.   He had a determined chin and there was about him an unmistakable air of arrogance that made her itch to take him down a peg or two.

  His black brows twitched together in annoyance as he told her, ‘I didn’t realize you would be quite so young.  Do you think you’ll be able to handle this position?’

  With cheeks flushed with anger she replied, ‘In the first place I’m no teenager.  I’m thirty years old and have held down a responsible position for many years and in the second place I’ve a Letter of Acceptance signed by you.  Why did you not complain before?’  Jeanne was shaking with fury. 

  He ignored her question.   ‘My mother’s health is of the utmost importance to me and as I’m away for most of the day it is essential that I have someone here who does not break down in a crisis.’

  This goaded Jeanne to reply, ‘I’ve given up a top secretarial position in Johannesburg and I’d like to remind you that good Housekeeper/Companions do not grow on trees.’  She wanted to burst into tears but his remark about breaking down in a crisis so incensed her that she would not let him see how upset she really was.

  With a gesture of impatience he went on, ‘You’re on a month’s trial.  We’ll evaluate your position then.’

  With a tilt of her chin she calmly uttered, ‘Mr de Goede, you are also on a month’s trial.  I’ll let you know whether I’ll stay or not.’

  He opened his mouth to say more but his good judgement came to his rescue and he closed it again.  With glowering eyes he got up and walked to one of the bookshelves, thus dismissing her.

  Jeanne was tempted to walk out there and then but the memory of his frail little mother gave her the determination she needed, so with head held high, she stalked out of the room.  ‘Arrogant high minded brute.  You’ll eat your words one day,’ she hissed under her breath.  She went to her room, glad to be alone for a while.

  About an hour later she heard Agnes screaming.  ‘Stefan, come quickly.  Your mother’s dead!’  She then let out a wail and ran from the house.

  Jeanne rushed to the room where she found the limp figure of Mrs de Goede lying on the floor.  Stefan arrived close behind her.  He gently picked up his mother and lay her on the bed.

  ‘Mum!’ he called softly, a quiver in his voice. 

  There was no reply.

  He looked at Jeanne and said stiffly, ‘Look after her while I call Dr Jubber.’

  Jeanne lifted the patient’s head and let it drop back slightly allowing the air to pass freely through to the bronchial tubes.  The colour came back into her face and she opened her eyes.

  ‘Oh dear, I feel so weak,’ she whispered.

  Jeanne drew the covers over her and put an extra pillow behind her head.  Stefan came back into the room with an anxious look on his face.  This turned into a mixture of surprise and disbelief as he saw his mother sitting up in bed.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked his mother.

  ‘I tried to get up, but I must have fainted as I don’t remember anything,’ she said, a sob in her voice.

  Jeanne left the room and went to sit in the lounge.  It wasn’t long before Doctor Jubber arrived and made his way to the bedroom.  Stefan joined her in the lounge and as he flopped into a large chair she could see the tension in his good-looking face.  He ran a nervous hand through his hair.  They sat there not saying a word.  A few minutes later Doctor Jubber came into the lounge.  His face was grave.  Stefan stiffened as he looked at the doctor warily.

  ‘Stef, it’s the usual story,’ the doctor explained.  ‘Ever since your mother broke her hip her condition has deteriorated.  If she doesn’t pull herself together I give her at the most a month or two to live.  She hasn’t eaten and is gradually pining away.  There’s nothing more medical science can do.  Without the will to live we are fighting a losing battle.  I’ve given her a vitamin B complex injection and something to make her sleep.  More I cannot do.’

  Jeanne slipped quietly out of the room.  Her mind was in turmoil.  Is it too late for the old lady?   I’m sure I can help her if I had enough time.

  Slipping into the darkened room she walked to the bed.  Mrs de Goede lay very still.  Jeanne took her hand.  Exhausted, Mrs de Goede murmured sleepily, ‘I’m so tired.’

  ‘Please Mrs de Goede, don’t be angry with me but I must talk to you,’ Jeanne pleaded.  ‘When I saw you this afternoon I knew I had found a friend.  All my life I’ve been lonely.  I desperately need you.  I thought you may need me too, but you don’t seem to be making any effort to get well.  Your son is very worried about you.’  She bit her lip thoughtfully and almost willing her to listen, whispered, ‘Please don’t leave us.  We need you.’

  Jeanne looked at the still figure asleep on the bed.  How much had she heard?  Her eyes filled with tears as she made her way out of the room.  Calling in at the kitchen she told Agnes that she didn’t want anything to eat for supper and that she was going to bed.

  She woke early the next morning.  The drama of the night before came flooding into her mind.  Pulling on her dressing gown she tiptoed to the sick room.  Peeping around the door she was surprised to see a pair of grey eyes looking back at her.  They were smiling.

  ‘Come in Jeanne,’ Mrs de Goede called.

  ‘Good morning,’ answered Jeanne as she sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Good morning, my dear,’ Mrs de Goede replied and added, ‘I’m feeling so much better this morning.  Still a little weak, but much, much better.’  She laughed.  ‘I wonder if you could tell Agnes that I’d like a scrambled egg on toast and a nice hot cup of coffee.’

  Beaming with happiness, Jeanne gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and hurried to find Agnes.  In her haste she bumped into Stefan walking through the doorway.  His strong arms grabbed her to avoid her bumping into the side of the door.  She could feel the warm smoothness of his cheek as it brushed against hers.  In her embarrassment she burst out, ‘Your mother’s feeling fine and wants breakfast.  Isn’t it wonderful?’

  He looked at her in surprise then a smile lit up his face.  ‘Whoopee!’ he yelled, lifting her from the ground and twirling her around before putting her down.  Laughing, he walked into the room to see his mother.

  With scarlet cheeks, but with a mounting feeling of joy, Jeanne went to find Agnes.

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