Eager to Please

Eager to Please.

Chapter one.

This is a story about Rebecca, (but call her by that name and she’s likely to kick you where it hurts, she prefers Reb), the first part (her history) was told to me by her over a couple of days. She is a pretty eighteen-year-old with short spikey hair, she is slim but has surprisingly big breasts and gorgeous green eyes.

Unfortunately for her she is only four feet eleven inches tall now (shorter than her peers when she was younger) and was bullied from an early age, so she learned to defend herself by attacking, but still lost more fights than she won but other kids became more wary of her. Her mother was a lone parent, her father deserted as soon as he knew she was pregnant, never to be seen again.

Reb’s mother got into drink and drugs and like many, became a prostitute to pay the bills and to buy more drugs. One day she brought a client home and passed out, so he tried to molest Rebecca, she was fourteen at the time and ran to the kitchen and grabbed a large knife and threatened him with it, he thought she was bluffing but she slashed his hand as he reached for her.

He quickly left with blood dripping from the wound. That made her decide to leave home. She filled a backpack with her things plus the knife, and went out the back way in case the guy she’d cut was waiting to get her. She went to the park to think on where she could go and was still there when her mother found her and took her home (she knew that Rebecca loved going to the park).

Calling herself ‘Reb’ now, she started planning for her next attempt to escape, realising that she needed money to get anywhere, she stole a little at a time out of her mother’s client payments and hid it in her room. She was sure it was safe because her mother never went into her room to clean it (she kept it clean and tidy herself).

It had been well over a year of saving and there was almost two hundred pounds in her stash when it disappeared, her mother had been suspicious in one of her more lucid moments, so when Rebecca was at school and she searched her room and found it, she did use some of it to pay the rent and buy food, but the rest went on drugs and alcohol.

Reb was furious but with her stash gone she had to start again, taking less at a time and not so frequently. She stayed in her room almost constantly when she was at home, and had fitted two big bolts that she had found in the garden shed to her door in case any clients wanted to try and have sex with her instead of her mother, like the other one had tried, she also kept a knife under her pillow.

Her mother knew that she was taking money again but used it as a savings plan because she could manage without a few pounds a week, but it was a nice bonus when she found the stash after a few months. Rebecca then split her cash and moved the plastic bags to different hiding places hoping they would be safe as at her age she couldn’t open a bank account without her mother.

The moving worked and it was nine months before her mother found one stash, and thinking that was all of it, she didn’t bother searching for a long time. Another factor in Reb’s delay in escaping was that legally she was still a child, if she could wait until she was eighteen, she could not be forced to go back home, and she would have saved a lot more money.

The time came when she had her birthday (although her mother gave her nothing as usual). She collected all her stashes and counted it up and was surprised that it came to almost five hundred pounds, which she stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack. Creeping to the kitchen to add another knife to her backpack, she walked out, thinking that her mother was in a drug or booze induced stupor as usual.

As Reb turned left from her front gate, she heard footsteps from the other direction and turned to see the ‘client’ who tried to molest her all that time ago, was about to go into her house. “Hey, you little bitch, I still owe you one for cutting my hand!” She turned and ran, with him in pursuit.

Reb was quick, but he was persistent and was gaining to the point where he grabbed the backpack and pulled. She slipped out of the shoulder straps and kept running, and when she saw an open side door in a brick wall, she raced through, slammed it shut and bolted it. She ran towards the house on her side of the wall and hid around the back, under a shed, she heard the man banging the gate and cursing, while she gasped for air.

This big Victorian house was mine, my name is Andy, I’m twenty-eight, five feet nine and well build from playing a lot of rugby when I was younger. I recently inherited the house and was in the process of renovating it, slowly. When completed I might sell it and buy another ‘doer upper’ to work on as it was too big for one person to live in.

I saw her burst through the gate and bolt it, from an upstairs window. She ran towards the house but didn’t knock, but disappeared out of sight. As I made my way downstairs to investigate, then I spotted a rough looking man coming through the front gate.

He looked around, then balgat escort headed down the side path to the garden and outbuildings. I went out the back door, grabbing a five-foot walking staff on my way (one of many that I had made as a hobby while taking a break from the renovations). He came around the corner and saw me coming towards him.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my garden?” I shouted.

“Uhh, fuck it! My daughter ran away from home again and I was chasing her to uhh… take her home to her mother,” he replied, “I thought that this place was derelict.”

“No its not, I inherited it and I’m doing it up. I did see a girl come through the side gate, but she ran straight down the garden and climbed up that big Wisteria tree attached to the wall and went over into the road on the other side. But you are too heavy to climb up it, so you can go back the way you came, through the front gate and go round.” I explained firmly, noticing that he was carrying a backpack.

He eyed the staff in my hand, turned around and headed back to the gate, I followed him to the front of the house and watched until he was gone. I walked to the rear of the house again and towards the workshop. “It’s okay kid, he’s gone, you can come out now. Is he really your father?” I asked in the general direction of the big workshop and a storage shed on blocks. After a few moments, a voice said,

“No, he was a so called ‘friend’ of my mother and had tried to…..you know… get friendly,” she explained nervously, “He chased me to the kitchen, but I cut his hand with a knife, and he left me alone until today… Oh fuck!”

The expletive was because it had suddenly started to rain hard and by the time she had crawled out from under the shed, she was wet and muddy but holding a big knife in her hand.

“Would you like to clean up inside until the rain stops, before you leave?” I offered.

She looked up at the dark clouds all around and nodded, I turned and went in through the back door into the kitchen, leaving the walking staff by the door. I put the kettle on and offered her tea or coffee and she accepted the latter, and as it was midday I offered her a sandwich as I was about to make my own lunch. She washed her hands and face before sitting at one end of the table to eat and drink.

“So how much of what he said was bullshit?”

“Pretty much all of it, my mother became a drunk/druggy prostitute after my father legged it when she told him she was pregnant. I’m small, my mother called me petite, so I’ve had to fight for everything for as long as I can remember, and this was the final straw and he got my backpack with all my clothes, food, everything.” She explained angrily, struggling to look tough and hold back the tears.

To change the mood, I tossed her a Mars Bar and told her a brief history of me.

“I’m twenty-eight, five feet nine tall and fairly fit, I studied engineering and architecture at Uni, then worked for a construction company for a few years to get practical experience.” I explained, “Then my world collapsed, first my parents died in a plane crash in the Alps, and I was made redundant in a cost cutting exercise by the company I was working for. I had to sell my parent’s house to pay death duties and funeral expenses.”

“I was left with my grandparents very old and dilapidated, five bedroom house with outbuildings, in an acre of garden. There was a decent amount of cash left over from their estate and the insurance pay-out, after the taxes had been paid. With no work to go to, I decided that I would use my building skills to renovate the house to sell it and buy another and so on. Do you have anywhere safe to go?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“You are welcome to stay here tonight, there is only one habitable bedroom at the moment, but you are welcome to use the couch with a couple of blankets, while you make up your mind what to do next.”

“Thanks.” She sniffed, looking at the pouring rain outside.

“Have you eaten, apart from that sandwich and the Mars Bar?”

“Had some cereal for breakfast…” She replied.

“The kitchen’s not up to much yet so food is fairly basic, but I’d be a poor host if I didn’t offer you a meal.” I said.

“Thanks.” She sniffed again but then smiled prettily at me.

I thought the easiest would be sausages, mashed potato and baked beans. As I got everything together, Reb surprised me by asking,

“Can I help?”

“Okay, can you peel the potatoes?” And she nodded.

I gave her the peeler, letting her get on with it, while I took plates from a cupboard and cutlery, put them to one side before starting on the sausages. She cut the potatoes quite small so that they would cook quicker, put them in a saucepan I gave her, added water and put them on the cooker.

I told her how to turn it on and started cooking the sausages slowly. Reb opened the tin of beans and put them in another saucepan, stirring them occasionally. Twenty minutes from start to finish and we were eating at the kitchen bahçelievler escort table.

I thought that there might be a couple of sausages left over for a late night snack, but she was hungry and asked if she could have them. When they were gone she smiled again.

“Thanks, I was hungrier than I thought, that’s the first time in years that someone has cooked a meal for me.” She told me.

“Didn’t your mother cook for the two of you?” I asked.

“Nah! She couldn’t cook for shit and was usually drunk or stoned, so I had to fend for myself. She would give me money to go shopping when she had regular clients, partly to keep me out of the way, and I didn’t want to hear what she was doing with them anyway,” she explained, “I can do what we just had, burgers, omelettes and spag bog, but that’s about it.”

“What are you planning to do about work, getting a job will be impossible without a home address, there are some hostels for the homeless in town, but your money may not be safe from theft?” I enquired.

“I don’t have any relations who I can go to, maybe I could get work waitressing or flipping burgers for cash if they don’t want to pay tax or insurance.” She said hopefully.

“But only seedy employers would consider taking you on and you’ll only get peanuts for a wage…”

“…And maybe have to screw the boss to keep the job too!” She snapped angrily.

I could see tears welling up in her eyes, despite her hard-ass attitude, as she stood up and quickly cleared the table. I could also see that she was really scared of what her future could be, she couldn’t go home but had nowhere else to go.

“AHHH FUCK IT!!” she screamed.

“What’s the matter Reb?” I asked, concerned.

“That bastard grabbed my backpack, so I slipped out of it and ran faster… My money was in the front pocket! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!” She cried, “Now I’m really fucked, I’ll have to go back! Or I’ll end up doing what Mother does but in back alleys, where I could be robbed, beaten up or even killed.”

I had no options for her but to give her somewhere to sleep for the night. To take her mind off it I offered to show her around the house, I had already stripped out two of the bedrooms back to the plaster and bare floorboards but the other two and mine hadn’t been touched yet.

The big family bathroom was half tiled, in a blue and white pattern that I liked, so had kept them for the time being. The free standing cast iron bath was old but serviceable, I was still using it, eventually I would replace it but keep the polished brass taps.

The big kitchen was part done, I had stripped it of everything except the sink and the stove, the floor was the original stone slabs, worn down slightly in places but I was keeping them as they added character. The new cupboards and worktops were still in their boxes, stacked against the walls, which had been painted with two layers of under coat and two topcoats.

The rest of the contents comprised of the table, two chairs, one old cupboard with everything needed to cook with plus tinned and dry food, the refrigerator and the freezer, plus a mains radio that I moved to whichever room I was currently working in.

The entrance hallway had patterned ceramic floor tiles, the lounge was large with ten feet ceilings with peeling wallpaper, a large stone open fireplace, and wooden parquet flooring that just needed sanding and polishing. The dining room floor was identical, even to the peeling wallpaper.

There was a scullery with an old ceramic sink and wooden draining board, and in one corner was a ‘copper.’ This was a brick built cube, with a hole at the base of the front with a fire grate inside, the inside of the cube was lined with firebricks and had a flu leading outside.

Sitting inside the top is a semi-spherical copper bowl that is part filled with water and soap powder, the fire below is lit, and the clothes are added when the water is hot. There is a winding handle on the top of the wooden lid which turns a paddle in the water to agitate the clothes to clean them.

Reb was fascinated to hear me describe how it worked, including the use of a hand operated mangle to squeeze the water out, before hanging them on the washing line to dry. She was obviously too young to have ever seen one, but I remember as a young child, coming to stay with Grandpa and Grandma for a week on most years and watching them use it.

The big house seemed like a mansion then, it was still quite big to me now compared to modern housing, and I was hoping to turn it into a modern family house but with some of the features of the late nineteenth century when it was built.

I only had a small flat screen TV, which was fine for watching the news, Reb took the piss out of it in a friendly way, but when I asked what she had in her house she was quiet, then told me it didn’t work anymore, and they couldn’t afford to get it fixed or replace it.

She had no spare clothes so I offered her a big t-shirt to sleep in which she accepted but batıkent escort blushed cutely. I gave her a big towel and she went up to the bathroom to get ready for bed, meanwhile I went round and locked the doors for the night. When she came back down I gave her a blanket and a bedspread and said goodnight, hoping that she wouldn’t take anything and run away.

Chapter Two.

The next morning, I came down at my usual time of six am, to see her asleep on the couch, I quietly made tea and toast, and was sitting at the table just finishing it when she walked slowly into the kitchen.

“What time is it?” She asked sleepily and yawned.

“Six-thirty, why?” I asked, grinning at her state.

“Ahh, still the middle of the night.” And she turned around and went back to her bed, but five minutes later she returned.

“Can’t get back to sleep ’cause that toast smells too good,” she said, “Can I have some?”

I sat where I was and looked at her, she frowned, obviously thinking, then added “Please.”

I smiled and got up to make her some toast and topped up the teapot, putting out an extra mug.

“What time do you normally get up?” I enquired.

“When I wasn’t at school it would be around ten.”

“Half the morning wasted, have you decided what you are going to do next?” having put a plate with three slices of toast, butter and a jar of marmalade in front of her.

“I spent about an hour thinking about it before I fell asleep, but I don’t have any money, no spare clothes and no idea where to even start. I suppose I’ll have to go back…” she said sadly, then started on the toast after spreading a good layer of marmalade on top.

“I spent time thinking about your problem too, I know that you don’t know me, but you could work for me, doing this house up, if you’re willing to learn and work hard. I’ll sort you out a better bed in one of the other bedrooms, feed you, if you help with the cooking, washing up and washing, and I’ll pay you a small wage as well.” I explained, seeing the surprised look on her face, then continued…

“You can stay as long as you like and move on whenever you think you have enough money, I can even help you to set up a bank account to keep your cash safe.”

“Wow! Hmm, but why would you do all that for someone you only met yesterday, what do you want out of it… sex, is that it, like that other bloke?” she snapped back angrily.

“Whoa there, I’ve had girlfriends in the past, but I am just as happy to be on my own, as I was before you dropped into my life, and will be just as happy after you have gone. You’re a pretty girl but unfortunately you had a mostly shitty upbringing, so I sympathise.” I snapped back,

“Some of the jobs I will have to do here will be a lot easier for two people to complete than one, so the offer was a genuine one, not made up to get into your pants. I made you an offer of a safe place to sleep, food and a wage, so it’s your choice, stay or go… the door is there.”

She looked surprised at my outburst, then thought of the alternative choices (back with her mother or living on the streets).

“No sex for all that?” I shook my head, “What if I offer it to you?” She continued.

“Then I would accept it gratefully and would do my best to make it good for you too.” I said quietly.

There was a long pause as she weighed up the pro’s and con’s before answering.

“How much will you pay and what would I have to do?” She enquired more calmly.

“I provide food and lodging, plus fifty pounds a week to start with, if you’re a good worker, I will increase it after a couple of weeks,” I offered, “The work will involve stripping wallpaper, rubbing down doors and skirting boards, helping to assemble cupboards and fitting them, sanding floors, maybe even painting too.”

“That’s a lot more than I was able to take from my mother’s purse… okay Andy, you got yourself an employee.” She decided, then assed, “And I can go whenever I want?”

“Yes, but I would like a couple of days’ notice please, in case there’s something coming up that will need both of us to complete.”

“Okay, but there is one little problem… These are the only clothes I have after that bastard took my backpack.” She said, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Hmm… okay Reb, what I’ll do is advance you a week’s wages and take you clothes shopping for working clothes and underwear, after that you work for half pay for two weeks to get us even, which will give you some money to get anything else you need. Do you smoke, drink or do drugs?”

That question surprised her, but she laughed before replying.

“No…sometimes and no. I’ve seen what drugs have done to my mother, so no way am I doing that, or I’ll end up like her! Tried smoking once but hated the taste, I tried some of her booze and quite like wine and beer but spirits… not interested.” Reb explained.

“Good, I like a cold beer after a good day’s work but only drink wine occasionally and the odd G&T, no drugs.” I told her.

She had finished eating, drained her tea so we washed the mugs and plates ready to start work. I took her to one of the untouched bedrooms, gave her a scraper, sponge and a bucket of water and showed her how to strip the old wallpaper, and put up a stepladder so that she could reach higher. I went outside to one of the outbuildings and brought out the sections of a double bed, unfortunately there had been no singles in the house.