Page 11 of Watching Henry

All in order.

She looked up at the high ceilings, the chandelier hanging, the wood paneled walls and gave a nod. Yes. She could do this. It'd be just like looking after her cousins during family vacations. Easy peasy.

She looked around to see her suitcases standing in the hallway. The mysterious Florence Underwood had disappeared.

She shuddered and wondered whether the woman might be a ghost. Then she looked down at the two heavy suitcases and shuddered again. She might just have over-packed...

???

Florence had presented herself at eight o'clock on the dot at the rear door of the house and had then had to wait a further two hours before there was any sign of life.

“Good Gods woman, what are you doing!” an older lady had screeched when she opened a kitchen window to find Florence lurking outside.

“Attempting to begin my employment,” Florence had said sharply.

And the woman had rolled her eyes and finally unlocked the kitchen door to let her inside. “Bess Mercier, housekeeper,” the older woman had sniffed. “And I suppose you're the new nanny. A cut above the last one, I'll give you that.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Florence had asked, looking around the well-equipped kitchen.

“Nothing, dear, nothing at all. You'll make your own judgments. Know what you're supposed to be doing, do you?”

“Yes, Mr. Allan provided full instructions, thank you.”

“And expecting some lunch?”

Florence's mouth watered. “If you wouldn't mind.” It was her right, after all, to eat three meals a day whilst in the house. “I'll show myself to my room.”

Afterward, things had gone completely according to plan. She'd found her own room, neat and more than sufficient. She'd checked on the children's rooms and found them satisfyingly tidy, though she had confiscated tablets from both rooms. She was not a fan of screen time for young children. She'd had a delicious and nutritious lunch served by Mrs. Mercier.

And then a cab had drawn up at the door.

Unable to help herself, Florence hurried out, anxious to meet her new young charges, only to be faced with a curvaceous blonde woman climbing out of the taxi.

She stopped in her tracks. Mr. Allan hadn't mentioned anyone else in the house.

But from the look of this woman, she belonged here. Florence had been around enough branded luggage to know that the two suitcases were real leather and expensive.

And the woman herself, from her perfectly cut blonde curly hair to her manicured fingernails looked expensive too. She smiled and her green eyes lit up and Florence's stomach flipped over all of a sudden. She felt warmth running through her and involuntarily, she smiled back.

Then she remembered her place.

Whoever this woman was, perhaps an older daughter that didn't need nannying, or maybe a relative of some kind, it was not Florence's job to be friends with her. So she introduced herself and got only the name Hadley in reply, which told her precisely nothing.

“I'm sorry, who's Hadley?” she asked Mrs. Mercier as she went back into the kitchen after helping Hadley carry her suitcases inside.

“Hadley?” The older woman looked confused.

“Yes. She just arrived. I didn't know which room to take her luggage to.”

“Don't know any Hadley,” Mrs. Mercier said. She bustled around the kitchen. “Glad to see you letting strangers into the house.”

“I didn't know she was a stranger,” Florence said indignantly.

“Well, I suppose you'd better go find out who she is then, hadn't you?” said Mrs. Mercier. “And hope that she hasn't already stolen the family silver.”

The woman had looked rich enough to buy the family silver, Florence thought.

But there was definitely something odd going on. Her palms started to sweat. This wasn't the best start to her new job.