Death by Sardines

This week’s http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/ challenge is to use the word ‘companion’ and the definition ‘one employed to live with and serve another’.

Mrs Paxmore was the absolute bane of my life. Employer, landlord, slave driver, and general pain in the arse.

Ferrying the rich old dear back and forth to the Co-op, and the bingo hall, and to afternoon tea with her equally tedious friends was not what I had in mind as a career. I had dreams of a high-rise office, a nice heavy pay packet, and holidays to Dubai, not to a caravan in Eastbourne.

When I saw the advert in the paper for a ‘companion’, I immediately thought of my all-time favourite book, Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. The character Mrs de Winter looks up the dictionary definition of a ‘companion’ and finds it means ‘a friend of the bosom’. I quite liked the sound of that. It sounded cosy and friendly and in my desperate-for-a-job state, I could hardly pass it up.

After six months of making endless cups of tea, and sardines on toast, and cleaning Enid Paxmore’s shit off the toilet bowl, I’d had enough. I Googled the definition of ‘companion’ for myself – ‘one employed to live with and serve another’. Not quite the cosy little job I was expecting.

I needed to get out. But with minimum wage and nowhere to go, I was trapped.

And then I discovered old Mrs Paxmore’s medicine cabinet.

‘Must have choked on a fish bone’, the doctor decided.

Or so I heard from my new flat in Dubai.

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