Lesson 7 Evening Shift at the Big House

Lesson 7

Evening Shift at the Big House



Wow, Miss Miggins wasn’t exaggerating when she described the house as, “the one with the large gates.” Gates the size of a double-decker bus and just as heavy. Can’t swing on these beauties.

Pressing a small red button a crackly voice vibrates through a speaker. “Hello, can I help you?” No doubt the butler.”

“Evening waiter here sir.” I answer in my best telephone manner.

“Door to the back of the house please.”

I walk through the gates and there before me is stretched a street of their own. No lamp posts, just perfectly placed beams of light shining up into the half-light. I can hear running water and imagine a flowing fountain within the sleeping gardens. I could sit here for the evening and appreciate the quietness.

As I near the front of the house, I stop and admire the grand architecture of a bygone generation. Doors matching the gates in size. Elegantly carved pillars holding up the porch with steps, readily swept for their guests. Soft music informs me the party has already began. I automatically stop and adjust my tie and belt. I bid farewell! There will be no waltz for me.

I head for the back of the building, where a selection of top price cars stretches back towards the gardens. A chauffeur tips his cap. I respond with a nod.

As I turn to the back of the building, I can almost taste the food, The one advantage of this job I have, is a taste of the upper crust. All be it in leftovers. Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I leave the tarmac driveway. Dimmer the light shines the nearer I get to my entrance. It has a security light above the door frame. (The kind of light I have fixed below my bedroom window, that seems to attract every cat in the neighbourhood.) I pick out the small wooden door, with kitchen roughly chalked across the middle. I again straighten my tie and belt. I glance at my shoes, before quickly rubbing the toes over the back of my trousers legs.

Now ready, I ring the doorbell.