On Monday I published a post with my answers to questions that were part of the GETTING TO KNOW YOU challenge. In response to one of the questions I included a video of two wonderful opera singers dueting the beautiful Barcarolle – “La Nuit D’Amour” – from Offenbach’s “Tales Of Hoffman”.
It is a very beautiful song in itself…but I wondered how many other bloggers become choked up by it because of it’s connection with a film that many say is one of their favourite all time films. “La Vida Es Bella” or “Life Is Beautiful” – the story of Guido, a Jewish Italian waiter and later bookshop owner who falls in love with Dora and fathers a son named Giosuè (Joshua).
If you have never seen the film, I have added a trailer right at the bottom of this post. If you have seen this film, you totally understand why I felt teary-eyed listening to the Barcarolle! Although full of comedy, make no mistake, this is an incredibly moving film, exhibiting the courage and love of a father who seeks to protect his family from the horrors that surround them.
When I think of what others have suffered…it makes all my woes seem petty and insignificant.
Here are two clips – the night on the concert theatre … followed by a scene from the concentration camp.
Here is the trailer I promised you:
At the time I did not feel I could tell my family because they would insist I left London and returned to them. I was desperate to start working towards being back in my life/world/career/flat – which were all in London. Stuart was very supportive, but most of my contact with him was via e-mails. I just tried to deal with the challenges that came my way and kept a lot back from Stuart because I was afraid of him becoming too angry. I knew I could always call the police if things became too bad.
His idea is taking a picture of me that shows the shape of my body now and then take another photo after he has had me on his training program – you know how people post their before and after photos on their social media sites. He wants me to follow his prescribed eating plan and to work out with him every day down at the gym. He wants to make me a more attractive shape. I am of course horrified. He wants to set goals for me that I personally am not keen on.
We truly are like chalk and cheese. He is my boss so I don’t want to be picky over things that don’t cross my boundary of what is acceptable. I am trying to find a balance so that I don’t come across as hostile towards him.
I cannot bear it when my boss touches me. I say “please keep your hands to yourself”. But I realize there are men and women who are ok with someone who has no romantic connection being overly tactile/friendly with their hands. He makes my skin crawl. But I keep asking myself if I am being overly sensitive after what happened to me?
But he did take me to his gym – I chose to swim while he went to work out. Then after an hour, he came down to the pool and yelled at me to get out of the water. Everyone was looking at me. He told me to join him in the jacuzzi – which is next to the pool. Then he said he wanted to show me something else. He took me into the steam room. I felt sick. He kept telling me to sit next to him. I told him I was not comfortable and walked out. He was furious with me for the rest of the day.
My boss was taking his two house-guests (a married couple) out for dinner and asked me to join them. I thought it would be alright with them there. I really like them. I have speaking to them in their language (which my boss does not speak) all week. Even they told me I should get out of here and find somewhere else! However, in the restaurant, he started running his hand up and down my thigh. Yuck! I reacted by deliberately moving my chair as far away as possible. But I actually wanted to pour my wine all over him. I think I hate him. I don’t think I have hated anyone like this before.
He has been angry with me all week after I told him not to touch me. He has raised his voice and sworn at me. He has called me all sorts of names. I have been sweet and calm and incredibly gracious. Sometimes I am shaking because I cannot stand being in his presence, but I am determined to control my anger and behave like a princess.
I was typing some letters for him, while he sat on the sofa and dictated to me what to write. He came over and put his hands on my shoulders and tied to start massaging me. (He tells me he is a trained masseur.) Immediately I raised my shoulders, to which he told me I was very tense. I asked to him to remove his hands. He was so angry, he swore at me again and told me there is something wrong with me.
He really wants me to sit and watch television with him. It used to be alright to sit on the sofa opposite him, but he keeps telling me to sit next to him. If he wants a woman to snuggle up on the sofa next to him, he needs to try out a dating site – not threaten his house-keeper.
He came over and without asking he just started with the massage thing again.
Tonight he was all nicey nicey, calling me “darlin” and complimenting me and telling me how much he is looking forward to our Friday evening in together (so it seems as if Friday is going to be a regular feature). The last two Fridays I was in control. I kept on topping up the glasses. Mine I filled with water and elderflower cordial and his with wine. He didn’t seem to realize what I was doing. Both weeks he fell asleep on the sofa.
He has kissed me on the cheek twice in the past 2 hours. The first time I asked him what he was doing. He shook his head and said he cannot understand me. Not long after that he put his hand on my face and said he is “ever so fond of me”. He has sent me upstairs to change into something more comfortable so I can sunbathe next to him in the garden. I am really creeped out.
He went to the gym on his own this morning (he was obviously very angry when I refused to go into the steam room with him ) so I worked in the garden all morning and now I am very pleased because I am scratched to smitherenes – scratch marks up your arms and legs are not particularly enhancing…
As soon as I had set up his computer to make a start, he was there behind me. I felt his hands on the back of my neck and instantly pushed my chair back and leant forward to pick up the file with his notes pretending I had a question to ask him. Well, I kept the chair back and sat on the edge and leant forward so he couldn’t reach my neck. Then he said he was pleased because now he could reach my back. He lifted up my top and tried to massage my lower back. I grabbed my top and pulled it down and said I would prefer him not to do that. He have me some technical description of the kind of massage he wants to be able to try on me. I said that I don’t have any tension in any part of my back. I said I could understand why he thought I may need a neck massage after being at the computer for so long, but I would not enjoy having my back massaged (definitely not by him – but of course I didn’t say this). Anyway he muttered that I am a strange girl.
But then he was back again in a flash. I was now sitting in the chair upright and he was standing behind me dictating. But after a couple of minutes his hands were wandering down to my lower back, I started wriggling around and moved my chair again. I asked him to take his hands off me. Again he put his hands on my lower back and said he couldn’t tell if I had tension there or not. I said I really didn’t, I said it’s hard to feel anything there because of all of my “padding”. He said not to put myself down and started complimenting my body – cringe!!!!!! I said I don’t have any problem with my body, and then I turned right around and said that it really is none of his concern what my body is like and he had no right to touch me. I was glaring at him. He muttered something which I didn’t make out, but it ended with your name. I asked him what he had said. He muttered again something about my love-handles being good for Stuart. I said “pardon?” He said “lucky Stuart”. I ignored him. To be honest I thought he was being sarcastic at first. So I just ignored him and carried on typing. He then came up close and whispered in my ear “lucky Stuart”.
This morning he insisted that I sat down and had a chat with him over a coffee. He was in his robe and sat exposing his “crown jewels” yet again. I held my coffee mug in front of my face to obscure the sight of them. He was clearly irritated and asked me why I was hiding my mug to my face. I told him his wrinklies were on display again.
As I approached I realized what was actually happening. My boss had his back to the door but I could see what he was doing to himself. I could also see that the woman who was crying was on the screen of his laptop. As soon as I realized she was naked and tied up and being forced to do things I am not going to write about – I felt as if I was going to be physically sick. I removed myself silently from the hallway. I thought about what to do. I opened the front door and slammed it shut. Within a few moments, my boss appeared and said: “Oh you’re back from your walk, do you fancy a cuppa?”
Well…I always thought I was able to shrug off anybody else’s unkindness or lack of considerateness. In the past I was good at shrugging off other people’s unkindness (and I think even now I am good at it). If somebody else was nasty, I always said in my head “they are the ones who are going to suffer the most as they find themselves lonely and friendless”.
However, I did find it completely draining and exhausting receiving unkind comments on the scale I did due to my association with my ex-neighbour Jack. For others to insinuate that he and I had an erotic relationship when we did not, to be victim of rumours that I was having an affair with a married man, to be called all sorts of horrible names – tramp, slapper, whore, and much worse – and for the invasive interest in my personal life to go on for so long and for so many other people (most of whom I had never even met) to feel they had a right to say these things. That wore me down. I tasted despair due to that situation.
Perhaps others would have been more resilient. After almost two years of that, I was often in tears, often distraught, but I thought I was coping with it. I had not had one sick day off work in five years despite working between 40-60 hours per week. I was super-fit and spending hours running and playing sport. I thought I was resilient.
It’s interesting that when you learn about ancient Greece and Rome, Assyria and Egypt, and other empires – you sometimes get an idea as to how depraved entertainments were becoming at the height of their success. Can you imagine the arenas packed with bloodthirsty crowds cheering the violence between men and sometimes animals?
The boastful reliefs where these ancient empires recorded their own inhumane actions. The sport that was had – brutal treatment of captives and animals.
Years ago my mum and my sisters went to Belgium for a weekend. It was the first time I had sweet waffles smothered in naughty toppings.
I don’t seem to be throwing up as much this week as I was the previous two weeks – feeling a bit more normal again. I have to admit I was feeling incredibly rough before this week. But I seem to be so much more settled now.
I had clearly annoyed my new boss by declining to drink more wine, and then escaping his company, by retiring early for the night. But this was not something I was going to worry about. If he pressured me to drink alcohol or asked me what kind of sexual acts I enjoyed – I was going to run as far away as I could get from him.
I inquired about his son. I had not seen his son since I arrived and wondered why. My new boss told me that he and his son had argued a few days before and he had told his son to get out of the house. His son had gone to live with his (my boss’) ex-wife. It suddenly dawned on me that I was living alone with this man. That realization was crushing to me. This was not an acceptable arrangement. From that moment I realized I was going to have to search for another post, and I did start to look.
There was nothing wrong with my shape. I was a normal weight and shape. I have always been a bit top heavy. Before I was attacked I was doing a lot of exercise as well as working long hours, so I did become leaner around my lower half. After I was attacked, I was only doing house-work for my family and I wasn’t running or playing sports, just walking. But my weight was up and down during that year. I did not have much appetite at all and lost a lot of weight at first. But I rested a lot. In addition my family tried to fatten up. I knew my lower half had expanded a little. But I was still a very healthy weight and shape. I did want to improve my strength and stamina, but I was very reluctant to start going to the gym with my new boss.
He continued to pressure me to agree to go to the gym with him. He claimed he could help me get into a really nice shape. I said I was only interested in keeping fit, but not overly worried about my shape. He told me that I should be. I responded that I saw no reason to worry about my shape so long as I was fit and healthy. He replied that I should make myself more attractive to men. I laughed and stated that was not something I was concerned about. He looked at me as if I was ridiculous and asked me what was wrong with me. Can you imagine how I was feeling? Can you?
Before he could reply, the doorbell rang. One of his friends had arrived. My boss was still in his robe, and his friend seemed annoyed that he was not ready. My boss told him he would go and have a quick shower and dress. Before he ran upstairs he asked me if I would mind boiling a couple of eggs for him.
When my boss returned he asked me what on earth I was doing with the eggs. I had automatically hard-boiled them and then peeled the shells. He was really annoyed with me. I should have asked how he wanted to eggs. I had just done them the way I prefer. But he wanted soft-boiled eggs with a slice of toast he could cut up and dip into the runny egg yolk. That’s the way we had eggs when we were little children. I apologised and acknowledged I should have asked how he liked his eggs. He looked at me as if I was a complete fruitcake!
Then he threw away the eggs I had hard-boiled and gave me a training session on how to boil eggs the way he liked them using a little device that you put into the pan with the eggs. I had never seen one before but I admitted it would mean I would not have to count the minutes the water was boiling.
After my boss and his friend had left, I cleaned his bedroom and bathroom and the kitchen and dining rooms. I left everything sparking. Then I headed out for a walk. I headed back towards the local high street. I found a local library and filled out a form so I could have a library card. I also found the local leisure centre which had a large swimming pool. I also bought some vegetarian food. I brought it back to the house and realized my boss was not back yet.
My “ex” has been in touch. A lot.
He has money, a lot of it. I don’t. I have worked part-time most of my life in order to be able to work as an unpaid volunteer for charities. For five years before I was attacked I was a full-time international volunteer and I was not paid a penny through that time. He wanted to treat me. That made me feel extra awkward. I don’t like gifts too early in a relationship. Sometimes it feels as if there is some kind of expectation of what is hoped for in return.
He was very nice. He always behaved like a gentleman in public and made me feel quite the princess. But I always knew that the kind of relationship he wanted, I was not able to fulfil. I felt he should look elsewhere for the kind of intimacy he was hoping for.
And looking back, I can see that I was an incredibly vulnerable mixed up cookie. I was so determined to get back to London and to get back on my feet. I did not want to be wrapped up in cotton wool by my family. If I had contacted my family they probably would never have allowed me to return to London – which is exactly why I did not contact them.
I was woken by the customary head pain which has been a part of my life since I was attacked. I showered and dressed and went downstairs. Nobody was awake yet. The house was silent. I had brought some cereal with me and so I boiled some water and ate my cereal with a mug of black coffee. I kept on expecting someone to appear, but nobody did. So I thought I would take a look at the cleaning equipment. There were various cleaning sprays and bleach and a couple of scrunched up and stained disposable cloths.
I decided I would need to obtain some decent cleaning equipment and I fetched my laptop to see what I could order online. I ordered a flick duster, microfiber cloths and a buffing cloth and some white vinegar. I had noticed there was lime-scale all over the chrome fittings and glass in the bathroom I was using and all over the kitchen. I intended to go into battle against that lime-scale. I thought I could walk into town later and buy some toothbrushes and sponge scourers for cleaning. I also sent an e-mail which I copied to several members of my family telling them everything was fine and the journey had been smooth. I did not want anyone worrying about me.
There were some clothes that had been drying on an airer in the utility room. I decided to iron them and fold them neatly. I had noticed the hard floors looked very grubby so I swept the hard floor in the large kitchen dining area and mopped the floor. Of course now that the floor was wet, the owner of the property appeared in his robe, looking half asleep still and asked me what on earth I was doing. It was almost lunch-time by now and I had been waiting for him to appear since about eight o’clock in the morning. I just explained that I had not been sure where to start so I had done what I could see needed doing.
It turned out that the night before when he had gone out for dinner he had eaten and drank rather a lot and arrived home very late. He told me he did not normally sleep in so late. I showed him what I had done and he thanked me and said it was not really necessary and not to wear myself out. He said he wanted me to relax and enjoy myself. I told him I would like to walk into town to by some personal things. He offered to drive me once he was showered and dressed, but I said I would really enjoy the walk. He seemed a little irritated that I wanted to go out on my own, but I knew I had done more than he had expected on my first day and I wanted to buy some useful cleaning equipment.
I was out for a couple of hours. I bought the cleaning equipment I needed and also some food and toiletries in the supermarket. It was June and the weather was delicious. It was really good to be out in the sunshine. I was so glad to be back in London, although this part of London was completely new to me. I felt a bit better now that I had found my way around the town and knew where important shops/services I might need were located.
When I returned the gentleman seemed a little disgruntled that I had taken so long and asked me if I had been all the way to Timbuktu to do my shopping. I apologised. I asked if there was any work he wanted me to do that day. He said I had done more than was needed already. I showed him the cleaning schedule I had drawn up on my laptop that morning while I was waiting for him and asked if he wanted to make any changes. He just laughed and asked what was the matter with me. He told me just to take it easy. He wanted to get to know more about me, after all, we were going to be living in the same property. He said he would stay in and have dinner with me that evening and that he had bought some vegetarian ready-meals from Marks & Spencers for me. He said after dinner he wanted us to sit down and have a chat so he could get to know me better.
So that evening, after a Marks & Spencer vegetarian ready meal, we sat down to chat. He had two sofas either side of a coffee table, so we sat facing each other. He offered me a glass of wine. I declined, but he was rather insistent, so I accepted. I sipped it very slowly. He started with asking me general personal questions about myself and my family and where I had grown up and my goals in life. I tried to ask him the same questions but he didn’t seem very forthcoming with information about himself. He wanted to know more about me. His questions started to become more and more personal and he started talking about sex and asking what I enjoyed.
If you could have seen what was going on inside my head at that moment, it would have been pure rage. Now…I think any employee would feel more than a little uncomfortable with their boss asking these questions on the first day of employment – but I feel I had extra reasons after I had been the victim of a serious crime just a year earlier.
He tried to top up my glass. I told him I did not want any more wine. He took my wine glass and poured more wine into it. I looked at him with a stern expression. I suddenly felt very angry with him. But I had to control it. I had very raw emotions that he had triggered, but he did not know what had happened to me, so I could not explode. I had to be able to deal with men who made me feel uncomfortable without treating them as criminals. This was his home after all. I had to learn to be assertive and deal with any unacceptable behaviour in a dignified way.
There are many posts in London that offer accommodation. Au pairs, house-keepers, live-in care assistants, butlers…the range of accommodation and the requirements are very diverse. It’s not quite “Downton Abbey” these days, but not a long way from it. I know of “tied-accommodation” posts that as well as beautiful living quarters also offer a ÂŁ60,000 salary. But in return you would have a massive amount of responsibility. I did not want the responsibility of anybody who was ill, or with children, I was not ready for that. So I was looking at house-keeping roles primarily.
I saw an advert that stated that in return for accommodation, the owner/principle required ten hours work each week and would pay ÂŁ200 per week. Now in all honesty – that did not sound right at all. ÂŁ20 per hour for the work required and free accommodation. I thought there must be a mis-print in the advertisement. Nevertheless, I contacted the person advertising the post to make enquiries. I was asked to send my CV and a photograph which I did so. Then I was asked to attend an interview down in London. I travelled down to London (even the journey down was a strange experience that could easily make up another post). The gentleman I had been corresponding with picked me up from the tube station and drove me to the property he lived in.
As with any interview, I was a little nervous. This was my first interview after a year of recovering from physical injuries and emotional trauma and I was quite shaky to be honest. I was worried about how to reply to any questions about the year long break I had from work. But those questions did not come. The gentleman seemed to want me to relax and tell me about myself. I rambled on about how my parents have always set an example in being hard-working, humble and honest and I try to live by those same qualities. He threw in questions along the lines of did I have a boyfriend? had I been married? did I have children? He also specified that he liked women to be women and to wear skirts or dresses.
I tried to clarify the amount of work needed and the arrangements involving accommodation and the rate of pay. He showed me the accommodation he proposed. It was a large double bedroom with a lot of storage space and an en suite bathroom. I asked about the amount of work required. He said there is not a lot to do. He and his son occupied the house. He asked for a couple of hours of cleaning each day from Monday – Friday. He said I could just relax at the weekend, there would be no work to do. He also said he would have some paper work and office work in connection with his business. I mentioned the advert said he would pay ÂŁ200 per week, and asked was that a mistake. He said it was not a mistake. I mentioned that worked out as a rate of ÂŁ20 per hour and free accommodation for some cleaning and office work. He affirmed that was the arrangement.
Now…I did not feel totally comfortable with the situation. I would be living with two single men. The gentleman who had interviewed me was older than my Dad. His son was a few years younger than me. The accommodation I would be in was quite separate though. I would have my own quarters. He only needed two hours cleaning or other office work a day for five days a week. So many other “tied-accommodation” posts required very long hours and for you to be at the constant beck and call of your principle. This was by far the best arrangement financially, the best accommodation I was likely to obtain, and the easiest introduction back into work.
You may already have your doubts about me being in the accommodation with two single men. I did feel an aversion to the idea of being there myself. If you are reading this and thinking this sounds like trouble ahead, you are right to have those thoughts. But I doubted myself so much at that time. I was frightened of everything.
Jim, aka Newepicauthor, the creator of 
For some strange reason earlier this week, I started to hum a tune the theme tune to the iconic sitcom “Only Fools And Horses”. The words:
Caramel 