by Lucy Appleby
Joe glanced round his one-bedroom apartment; it was a tip. The state of the place didn't bother him, but when he opened the refrigerator and found he was out of beer, that sure as hell made an impact. Shrugging on his leather jacket he stepped towards the door, trampling on the pile of final demands for utilities and overdue rent that had accumulated in a heap on the door mat.
He headed out, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as the early March afternoon was chilly and damp after a recent downpour. Disconsolately he made his way to the store on the corner of the street where he picked up a four-pack of beer and a loaf of bread. As he retraced his steps towards home, some instinct made him look at the assortment of cards and notices in a shop window. Having nothing better to do, he scanned them. Most were ads written on scrappy bits of paper from people offering an assortment of goods for sale, but one was different: it stood out from all the rest, being typewritten on a pristine white index card. It read: Short term cleaner required. Excellent hourly rate. Contact Arlene for further information. A telephone number was provided.
Joe read it again. "Come on mate, you're not seriously considering cleaning?" he muttered to himself. But he was, apparently. Fired from his last job for persistent lateness, fired from the one before that for being rude to customers, and fired from the one before that for turning up hungover ... he was desperate for some cash. Maybe he could earn enough to pay the outstanding rent, and after that he'd try and get himself a proper job to clear the other bills and reinstate his gym membership. Well, it was a plan of some sort. He made a note of the name and number, went home and called Arlene.
His call was answered on the third ring. "Hi."
"Hi. Is that Arlene?"
"It is. What can I do for you?"
"The name's Joe Carter. I'm ringing about the ad."
There was a slight pause. "You're a guy?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." Arlene clasped her hand over the phone, but Joe still heard her voice as she spoke to the person with her. "It's someone calling about the ad - and he's a guy!" The sound of girlish giggles could clearly be heard. Joe sighed. It looked like he was wasting his time. "Well, that's OK I guess," said Arlene a moment later. "But we need someone round here pretty quick. When can you start?"
"Where are you?" he asked casually, trying not to reveal how surprised he was by her positive response.
"We're at 25 Meadowbank Lane. You know it?"
"Yeah, I think so. You're on the opposite side of town to me, but ..." He glanced at his watch. "I can be there by three o'clock." With any luck there'd be just enough petrol in the tank to get him there and back.
"Oooh, really? That's great. How much time have you got?"
"Plenty. I'll stay for as long as I'm needed. What's the hourly rate?"
"We'll give you £20 an hour. And if you're up for it, you can do four hours today, three tomorrow, and three the day after, which will be Friday. That should just about do, don't you think, Becky?"
"Hopefully," said the second voice.
Joe blinked. Twenty pounds an hour for cleaning was way over the going rate, and however demeaning, he wasn't going to turn it down, though it was a shame they could only offer him ten hours. "OK, I can do that. Will there be any further work after Friday?" he asked, hopefully.
"No. We ... um, we're house sitting for my Aunt Stephanie. She's been working down south for three weeks, and she'll be back on Saturday night. That's why we need the place cleaned up. If she sees it as it is she'll go ballistic."
"Ah." Joe grinned. "I get it. You two been having a few too many parties, huh?"
"Something like that," said Arlene. She giggled again, Becky joining in.
"Right then. Guess I'll see you two naughty girls real soon."
"Count on it."
Joe demolished two slices of toast and a quick cup of coffee, then set out for Meadowbank Lane, a prestigious address in the posh part of town. He drove through the neighbourhood on roads lined with gracious period houses, most of them detached, and all rather grand. Number 25 turned out to be a lofty late 19th Century red-brick house with a gabled bay. Passing through a pair of wrought iron gates onto the sweeping driveway flanked either side with immaculately tended gardens, it was pretty obvious that whoever owned this place had plenty of money. Turning into a parking area close to the front door, Joe pulled on the handbrake and switched off the engine, totally oblivious to the fact that two girls were eyeing him through one of the downstairs windows.
"Fuck me - just look at him!" said Becky, her eyes glued to the hunk of a man getting out of his car.
"Hands off - I saw him first!" Arlene pressed her face closer to the glass. "He's bloody gorgeous... look at his biceps."
"Look at his thighs. Yum!"
The girls raced to the front door, opening it before Joe had time to ring the bell.
"Hi, I'm Arlene." She was small with an elfin face, big boobs and a mop of red hair. She had a cute nose decorated with a smattering of freckles
"And I'm Becky." She was taller, equally cute, her brown hair tied back in a jaunty pony tail.
Joe grinned at the girls. "Hi."
Arlene ushered him into the hall. The floor was heaped with debris - empty bottles and cans, serviettes and paper plates, food debris and other junk. "Um, I tried to warn you, it's a bit of a mess," she said sheepishly.
"Hell yeah, you don't say," he said, looking around. And I thought my apartment was bad. "So - where do you want me to start?"
"Anywhere you like. Every room is messed up," said Arlene cheerfully. "All except Auntie Stephanie's bedroom and office that is. We locked those two."
Joe poked his head round the doors that led to the three reception rooms on the ground floor and groaned inwardly. The place was like a bomb site, and the kitchen resembled a nuclear war zone. "Geez - this is going to take more than ten hours."
"We'll pay whatever it takes to fix things up," said Arlene. "But you must have it all done by Friday night. We'll come round then and check."
"You're not hanging around to give me a hand then?" He almost laughed at the shocked expressions on their faces.
"What? Us?! No way."
"We're far too busy."
"We have lectures."
"And boyfriends."
"And anyway, we hate cleaning, don't we, Becky?"
"We hate it." Becky pulled a face and nodded her head.
So do I, thought Joe grimly. Still, it was work, and he'd get some cash for his trouble. Arlene and Becky showed him around upstairs and his heart sank when he saw the state of the rooms. He learned the girls were both first year students at the local university; they had been hosting wild parties practically every night for the past three weeks, and were now panicking in case the place wouldn't be sorted before Arlene's Auntie Stephanie returned.
Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen with a roll of black refuse sacks. "Guess I'll start by picking up all the empties, huh? After that I'll go round with the vacuum cleaner."
"Great idea," said Arlene. "Oh, and there's a pile of puke-"
"Puke?" Joe grimaced.
"Yeah - at the top of the stairs. You'll find a mop and bucket in there." Arlene pointed to a tall cupboard in the corner of the kitchen, then fished £120 from her purse. "Here - take this to be going on with. We'll be staying with our boyfriends tonight but we'll be round here again tomorrow afternoon, same time, to give you more. You can let yourself in and out. Here's a spare key for the back door." She handed it over. "Okay - we gotta go. We have a lecture at 4 o'clock."
Joe stared at the key in his palm and shook his head. "You're way too trusting. How do you know I won't rob all the furniture and valuables while you're gone?"
Arlene's face fell. "Oh - you won't, will you?"
"No. Course not. But you don't know the first thing about me. We met only fifteen minutes ago and now you're giving me a key to someone else's house."
"Best not lose it then, or Auntie Stephanie will have a fit. See ya!"
And that was it. The pair of them left, whispering and giggling as they darted suggestive little backward glances at him. Joe stared after them, mesmerised by their jiggling butt cheeks in the tight jeans they wore. And then reality hit. He looked around at the devastation.
"Oh shit," he muttered, and began picking up empty bottles.
He worked his butt off for the next three hours. It took him that long to work his way around the ground floor of the house and the terraced area round the back. He collected discarded cans and bottles, bits of sandwiches and other food. Then there was a whole stack of cardboard pizza boxes, some of them with mouldy bits of pizza inside. He stuffed the contents into black sacks - 18 sacks in total. Taking a break, he found an unopened can of beer in the fridge and drank it thirstily.
After that he went upstairs. Into the sacks went more bottles and cans and even a couple of used condoms. He rolled his eyes. Some party. He found several pairs of discarded panties. They went into the sack too as he figured their owners wouldn't dare return to collect them if it meant facing the wrath of Auntie Stephanie, whoever she was.
When he ran out of black sacks he stepped out of the back door and locked it behind him, and walked to a small supermarket he had seen about a quarter of a mile away. Purchasing another big roll of refuse sacks and a carton of milk, he headed back to 25 Meadowbank Lane. The first thing he did on return was to stack the full refuse sacks up outside the back door. Maybe the girls would pay him extra if he made a couple of trips to the local household waste disposal site, as he was sure they wouldn't want the owner of the house to discover any evidence it had been used for a series of wild parties and orgies.
It was as he was stacking the sacks by the outer wall that he had the feeling he was being watched. Straightening up, he turned round. A blonde woman was staring at him, wide-eyed. "Hey," he said. "Are you lost?"
Her brown eyes narrowed. "No, I am not lost," she said slowly. "Are you?"
"Hell no. I'm just the cleaner."
"I see." She compressed her lips together. "And might I ask who employed you?"
Having no idea who this Miss Frosty Knickers was, Joe said the first thing that came into his head. "Arlene set me on to clean up the place before the old dragon who owns it comes back on Saturday. So lady, if you're looking for a cleaner or general odd job guy, I'm your man." He gave her one of his most charming smiles. They never failed to work on the girls. With his physique, dark hair, blue eyes and good looks, he never had any problem with women. They flocked round in droves and he had them eating out of his hand.
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