The Debt

by D A Latham

  "So what happens next?" I asked. I was keen to progress to the next stage in the process.

  "You'll need to meet Mr Pryce," he said, "He has the final say. Let me check his diary and see when he can fit you in." He opened a drawer and pulled out a tablet. I watched as he swiped at it a few times. "Hmm, he's quite tied up over the next few days. Are you available at ten on Saturday morning?"

  "Yes, that's absolutely fine," I said. As soon as I'd said it, both dog's ears pricked up, and they went on alert. A moment later, I heard a door slam and footsteps click up the hall. "This might be him," Marcus said, "Stay there, I'll go and check." He got up and left the office, followed by the dogs, who seemed eager to see whomever it was. I could hear voices coming from the hallway, but they were too muffled to make out what was being said.

  I drained my cup and looked around. Marcus's office was decorated in pale grey with charcoal furnishings, giving it a sleek, polished look that reflected his overall demeanour. Everything was achingly tasteful, even the polished silver ornaments next to the fireplace and the blown-glass uplighter on the walls. It was as if the inhabitants of the house had never owned a bit of cheap tat in their lives.

  I jumped as the door swung open. Marcus strode in, followed by possibly the most imposing man I'd ever set eyes on. He was tall, slender and could only be described as dark. He was English, but his hair and stubble were deep ebony and between them, gave him a forbidding appearance. His eyes were dark blue, lined with long, dark lashes. He was dressed in a navy suit and white shirt, without a tie, as if he'd taken it off during the journey home. He smiled at me in a friendly way. My mouth immediately went dry. He held his hand out for me to shake. I took it rather hesitantly, expecting electric shocks to run up my arm. His hand was extraordinarily soft, but that was about it.

  "Miss Higgs, it's very nice to meet you. Marcus was just filling me in about you," he said, "I'm Aaron Pryce. Roxy and Bruno are my little ones."

  "Delighted to meet you," I replied. I wondered if I'd still need to come back on Saturday or whether it would count as a second interview. He perched on the edge of the desk, which made him loom over me.

  "Marcus tells me you're very well-qualified. Have you ever pet-nannied before?"

  "Well, we sometime took boarders at the surgery while people were on holiday. We had large kennels there. I often took care of the dogs who were staying with us." I'd walked them too, during my unpaid time, while Ms Gadd charged the owners extortionate amounts, I thought to myself.

  "And you're available to move in and start straightaway?"

  "Yes."

  The two dogs were sitting on either side of his legs, both gazing up at him in total adoration. I watched as he addressed them, his voice softer and warmer; "Roxy, Bruno, have you given Miss Higgs a check-over?" He smiled as Roxy leaned over to sniff my hand and give me another little lick. Bruno was more suspicious, checking me out quite thoroughly before granting me the lick of approval.

  "Where's their favourite place to walk?" I asked.

  "There are several acres of grounds, mainly woodland. Aaron prefers them walked here as it's more secure," said Marcus. I'd been so mesmerised by Aaron Pryce that I'd forgotten that he was still there. "I can provide you with a full care file. It lists out their food, our policies on discipline, that sort of thing. I had to prepare it for their last nanny."

  "That would be great. Changes often confuse and upset dogs, so it would be best to try and keep their world as normal as possible.” As soon as I said it, Aaron smiled broadly.

  “That’s what I like to hear. Marcus said that you don’t drive? Might be an issue for any vet trips that are needed.”

  I blushed. “I’ll be getting my licence back in a few months. My drink was spiked…” I tailed off, wondering if it would blow it for me. The job had felt within grasping distance up until that point.

  “I suppose one of the groundsmen could drive her if needs be for a few months,” Marcus mused. I could've kissed him. He was clearly rooting for me.

  Aaron stood up, towering over me, “OK, move her in Saturday, run through the job spec and start her on Monday.” He gazed down on me for a moment. “Does that suit?”

  “Oh yes. Thank you, Mr Pryce,” I said, cringing slightly at how gushy I sounded. With that, he left, the two dogs following along behind, tails wagging madly.

  “OK,” said Marcus, “Scrub that Saturday interview, we’ll concentrate on getting you moved in. I’ll show you the flat.” He opened another drawer and pulled out a set of keys. “It’s quite a nice place, even though it’s above the garage.”

  I followed him back through the lavish hallway and out of the front door. We walked across the driveway to a set of garages. They looked to me as if they were larger than most people’s houses. Down the side of the first one was a front door, he unlocked it and stepped inside to switch on a light.

  Directly in front of me was a staircase, fully enclosed. I followed him up, barely listening to his description of the estate. At the top of the stairs, he flicked on another light, and I saw the “flat” for the first time. It was fantastic.

  It was a vast room, spanning about three of the double garages, and divided into areas while retaining its open plan look. The kitchen area was fitted with shaker-style cabinets, housing cupboards, a washing machine, and to my excitement, what appeared to be a dishwasher. The hob was set into the black worktop with the oven housed below. It was a million times better than the two cupboards and sink with a portable ring and grill affair I had in my bedsit.

  The living area had a large grey corner sofa, a glass coffee table and a TV. It was separated from the sleeping area by a pair of black screens. The bed was a large double and the wardrobe was built-in on the far wall. It had the feel of a New York loft, not that I’d ever seen one outside of a magazine. A small bathroom had been partitioned off, just beyond the sleeping area. It wasn’t large, but was nicely fitted with a nice bath and shower combo, loo, and sink.

  “I’ll get the heating put on for you on Saturday morning. Sonia did tell me that this place warms up fairly quickly. Do you like it?” He sounded a little nervous.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I breathed, trying to take it all in. “Do I have to pay rent for it?”

  “No. It’s why the salary is quite low. Heating and electric are included. You’ll come under the household council tax too, which saves a fair bit.”

  “Fantastic. What time on Saturday should I get here?” A million things were whizzing through my mind, primarily how I’d get my stuff over there with only fifty quid to last me until the end of the month.

  “I don’t know, ten-ish? If you like I could send one of the groundsmen over with a van, if you don’t have a car?”

  “That’d be really helpful,” I said. I could’ve kissed him.

  “OK, that’s settled then. Well, welcome to the household Miss Higgs. I’m sure you’ll be very happy here.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The next couple of days were a whirlwind of packing up, changing addresses and slinging out old tut that didn’t have a place in my sleek new pad. Andy was delighted for me, although I hadn’t told him too much about my new employment. If he could be secretive, then so could I. He came round on the Friday evening, bearing a takeaway and a bottle of wine. “All organised?” he asked cheerfully, clearly in a good mood. He surveyed the stack of boxes in the corner of the room.

  “Just the bedding to bag up in the morning, and I’m ready to go,” I said proudly. “The landlord is OK with me leaving tomorrow, as I’ve paid the rent up to the end of the month. I doubt I’ll get the deposit back given the damage we’ve done to the bed.” Having taken my library books back, I’d had to try and do a makeshift mending job with some string and a bit of duct tape I’d found in the utility room.

  “Good,” he said, smiling warmly, before capturing me around my waist and pulling me into a kiss. I kissed him back with fervour, weaving my fingers into his hair, anchoring him to me. Eventually he pulled away.
>
  “Food’ll get cold,” he said. I took the hint and started laying it out on the coffee table. It smelt divine. As we ate, I asked him about his day. “Normal really. Oh, by the way, I served papers on your old boss. She has fourteen days to respond.”

  “That probably ruined her weekend,” I commented.

  “That’s why I always serve on a Friday afternoon, the later the better. They have all weekend to stew and panic before they can get a lawyer on a Monday morning.”

  I gasped. “That’s really mean.” he just grinned.

  “That’s the idea. So what time are you moving tomorrow?”

  “Ten. A van’s coming to get me.”

  “Good. I’d struggle to get all this in the car,” he waved at my pile of boxes. “By the way, have you checked out these new employers?”

  “Yeah, Googled them,” I said dismissively. I’d actually pored over every article about him on the first six pages of Google. Aaron Pryce was a high achiever, from a single-parent family who sent him to private school, then on to Oxford. He’d made his first million by the tender age of twenty-two and had an estimated fortune of over a hundred million. He was just thirty-one, the same age as Andy. I hadn’t shared any of this information, as I thought it might put Andy’s nose out of joint. I’d been deliberately evasive when he’d questioned me, just telling him I’d be working for a couple in Keston, which technically I was, given that Mr Pryce had a girlfriend. It didn’t hurt to be a bit sensitive to Andy’s ego.

  I was pleased that Andy stayed the night, although I was a touch disgruntled that he was evasive when I asked about his house. “I’ll take you round there soon, maybe when Phil’s moved out,” he said, before distracting me with his beautiful body, again.

  I sent him home the next morning before the van arrived. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I thought he seemed to be relieved that he wouldn’t be roped in to helping. We arranged to meet for dinner that evening in a little pub in Keston, which apparently served amazing food. With a quick kiss goodbye, he was gone.

  After bagging up my bedding, I did a final clean of the room, and took the rubbish down to the recycling area downstairs. As I was sorting the paper from the plastic, a van pulled up outside. A rather grizzled-looking man got out. “I’m looking for a Miss Sally Higgs,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “That’s me,” I told him, “are you from Mr Pryce’s place?” I held my hand out to shake his, which turned out to be rather grimy and calloused.

  “Call me Jed,” he said, sounding much friendlier. “I can’t wait to get those bloody dogs off hand. If they're not stealing out of the kitchen, they’re crapping in the formal gardens or getting themselves lost in the woods. Little sods need a permanent nanny.”

  “I’ll make sure they stay out of your gardens," I promised. I led him upstairs and pointed at the pile of boxes. “Sorry, there’s quite a bit of stuff to move.”

  “Not as much as I expected,” he said, picking up two as if they were weightless. With the two of us loading up, it didn’t take long. I gave the bedsit one last, long look, and locked the door. After dropping the key in to the landlord, Jed drove us over to Lakeswood. In the daylight, I got a better sense of where it was, and saw where I’d be meeting Andy that evening.

  “Has anyone given you the code for the gate yet? Jed asked. I shook my head. “I’ll see if Marcus is around and remind him. We each have our own code, so they can see who goes in and out. It’s a security thing,” he told me.

  “Security is important then?” I asked.

  Jed nodded. “Very important. Mr Pryce is very aware that he’s a target. He takes no chances, especially where the dogs are concerned. He’ll have done a full background check on you before you were even asked to interview. Don’t be fooled by the laid-back Marcus either, he’s as sharp as a tack, and nothing gets past him.”

  “I see,” I said. I didn’t really. “So what does Marcus actually do?”

  “Everything. He takes care of the property, the staff, and supplies. He organises decorators, builders, and repairs. He’s very good at his job.”

  “The house is beautiful,” I said. “Well, the bit I’ve seen of it.”

  “All down to Marcus. Mr Pryce is barely there really. I hardly ever see him because I work during daylight and he’s up in the city doing his deals. Gerry, the chef, says he hardly ever gets home before eight in the evening, and even then that’s if he doesn’t have an evening function to attend. Gerry spends most of his time cooking for the staff, moaning that we only ever want eggs and chips. He’s a bit wasted really. He does all that fancy cuisine stuff.”

  We pulled up outside the garage. “Nice little flat this one,” said Jed, hopping out of the van. “Marcus gave me the key to give to you.” He pulled a key out of his pocket, attached to a little fob that simply said “Garage 1 Flat.” I took it and unlocked the front door. Picking up a box to take with me, I skipped up the stairs, delighted that the heating had been switched on as promised.

  I dumped the first box on the bed and looked around. It appeared to have been cleaned since I’d seen it a few days earlier. The surfaces shone with polish, and it smelt clean and fresh. I wandered over to the window and saw that I overlooked the gardens, which were manicured and rather formal. “That’s the rose garden,” said Jed, making me jump. “I made that one from scratch. It was just bare lawn seven years ago.”

  “Is that how long you’ve been here?” I asked. He nodded. “So he bought this place when he was just twenty-four?”

  “I gather it was a single, rather lucrative deal that paid for it. Well, that’s the legend anyway. I’ve no idea whether it’s true or not. Now, where shall I put these boxes?”

  “In the middle is fine, thank you,” I said.

  “The bins are round the far side of the last garage. Just flatten down your boxes and stack them there when you’re done. If you need anything, the house phone is by the telly. The kitchen is round the back of the house if you need milk or anything.”

  “Thanks, I should be fine,” I said, smiling at him. “By the way, am I allowed to have friends round in my free time?”

  “Yes, of course. As long as you accompany them at all times. Well, that’s the rule I’ve always had to follow. It’s pretty laid back as long as security rules are followed.” He went off to get the rest of the boxes. I spotted an envelope on the coffee table with my name on. I ripped it open.

  Dear Sally,

  I hope you settle in OK, please don’t hesitate to call the house by pressing 3 on your phone if there’s anything you need. Your security code for the entire estate is 4657. Use the large keypad for the main gate, the smaller keypad below it for the pedestrian one. Keypads are at all access points into the main house.

  Your hours will be 8 a.m. till 6 p.m., Monday to Friday. Occasional weekend and evening babysitting will sometimes be needed. I’ve enclosed the care plan devised for Roxy and Bruno. It details feeds, timings, and key points from their training. I hope it’s enough for you to go on.

  I’ll meet with you at 9 a.m. on Monday to sort out your contract and payroll. Please come straight to my office.

  Kind regards,

  Marcus Brookes

  I memorised the code, reciting it in my head until I was sure I’d remember it, then I put the sheaf of papers down and got on with helping Jed unload the van. I spent a rather lovely afternoon unpacking my things and putting them away carefully so as not to spoil the New-York-loft-look of the studio. Compared to my bedsit, it felt as though I had acres of room and a positive glut of cupboard space.

  My new kitchen was far nicer than I’d had before, with a built-in washer/dryer and a proper hob and oven. The utensils provided were basic but would do me fine. I unpacked my meagre grocery supplies, putting everything away in cupboards. Only the kettle would be allowed on the worktop. I preferred to keep things neat.

  I cursed when I discovered that my duvet wasn’t really the right size for the bed, only stretching to the very edges. With my firs
t month’s wages, I vowed to purchase a decent king-size bedding set and two more pillows. My small duvet cover stood out in the gorgeous room as being cheap and wrong. A pale grey set would've looked amazing.

  Ignoring the nasty duvet for a moment, I sat down on the bed and surveyed my new digs, hugging myself with excitement. I was interrupted by the noise of a car pulling up outside. Peeking out of the window, I watched Aaron and a blonde step out of a sleek black sports car. He pulled a load of those stiff cardboard bags that you get from designer shops out of the boot and followed the blonde into the house. Instantly, I felt the nag of envy. She seemed so confident, so certain that he was hers. She wouldn’t be hidden from his family or treated like a hopeless cause. I longed for that self-confidence.

  I didn’t want to leave the flat to meet Andy that evening. I’d have preferred to just sit and enjoy my new place, but I dutifully got myself ready, wondering if he’d notice that I wore the same outfit on every date. I walked down the dark driveway to the gates, praying that my code would work. I had to use my phone to illuminate the keypad in the dark, but it all worked fine and I was able to step outside into the real world again.

  It was a cold, crisp night, with clear skies and a biting wind. I hurried along to find the pub, which was only a few hundred yards away. It was a relief to step into the warm, beery-smelling room, filled with the chatter of groups of people having their Saturday evening out. I scanned the room, spotting Andy straightaway, parked in front of a roaring open fire. He smiled and stood when he saw me making my way over. “How’d it go today?” he asked, before kissing me on the cheek.

  “Great thanks. It didn’t take long. I was all unpacked by three.”

  “Good.”

  A slightly awkward moment stretched between us. I busied myself unwrapping my scarf and taking off my coat. Andy disappeared to the bar to get more drinks. I sat on the sofa to enjoy the fire. A few minutes later, he was back, bearing a glass of wine for me and a pint of beer for himself. “They do ‘Old Fox’ bitter in here,” he said enthusiastically, taking a long sip.