At the
foot of the stairs, Olivia came to a screeching halt. The sight, a few yards in
front of her, left her totally speechless and breathless...
In her opulent bespoke kitchen, the man
she’d seen picking weeds and digging flower beds only an hour ago wearing stained
green tee shirt, dark trousers, muddy boots and gloves is now preparing
breakfast as if he's a celebrity TV chef on live television.
Oliver looked up in time to see her drooling mouth.
He flashed her a winning grin as he stirred the bubbling liquid in the milk
pan. She looked to her left, on the island extension were they ate quick meals,
were two plates complete with cutlery and mugs.
Taking in the scene, she understood why her
son had dismissed her belated offer to prepare his breakfast.
Contrary to the instant guilt that came over
her at Shawn’s outburst earlier, she realized her son hadn’t suffered neglect
at all. Mr. Gardener had extended his scope to providing breakfast for her son
and doing school runs behind her back!
Oliver's practically taking over the
running of her home. She covered her face with her hand. No, it is
more of acute embarrassment. And perhaps, with a tinge of anger? She couldn’t
put her finger on exactly what she found so appalling about the scenario
playing out in front of her.
While she stood like a robot at the foot of
the stairs, Shawn came bounding down the stairs, looking at his wristwatch at
the same time.
‘Hi mate,’ Oliver called out animatedly at
the sight of her son pulling his schoolbag over one shoulder.
Oliver’s voice was like hot, liquid honey
flowing through her veins…
This is all going badly this
morning.
If she
asks Oliver to get out of her kitchen, she risks offending her son who’s
obviously settled into the routine of eating hot, freshly prepared meals for
breakfast.
‘Come over and join us mum,’ her son called
out as he dumped his bag on top of the kitchen worktop. ‘Never mind, am sure
Oliver doesn’t have enough for three.’ She said faintly when she found her
voice.
‘There’s always extra. Isn’t there an extra
portion left, Oliver?’ her son asked, as he went round, pumping the gardener on
the arm like chummy friends do.
Her stomach almost fell out at the sight...
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I found your great blog through the WLC Blog Follows on the World Literary Cafe! Great to connect!
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