Then I found the linen closet and made up the bed. The sheets were trimmed with lace and smelled of roses. Finally I went down to the coal cellar, which was properly equipped with tongs and shovel this time, and laid the bedroom fire. A few weeks ago this would have been a task beyond my wildest imagination.

I was just putting the finishing touches to the room when the front doorbell rang. I had intended to be out and gone before Mrs. B-B herself showed up, but then she wouldn’t be ringing her own doorbell, would she?

I went down and opened it. A rather dashing man stood there, his hair parted in the middle and slicked down, a neat line of mustache on his upper lip. He was wearing a blue blazer and flannels, carrying a bouquet of freesia, and had a silver-tipped cane tucked under one arm.

“Hello,” he said, giving me a smile that showed too many white and even teeth. “Are you a new maid? I didn’t think she usually brought servants with her.”

“No, sir. I’m employed by a domestic service. Mrs. Bantry-Bynge hired me to open up the house and get a bedroom ready for her.”

“Did she, by jove. Excellent idea.” He attempted to come inside.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she hasn’t arrived yet,” I said, blocking his path.

“That’s all right. I expect I’ll find something to amuse myself,” he said. This time he pushed past me and took off his gloves in the hallway. “I’m Boy, by the way, and you are . . . ?”

“Maggie, sir,” I said, my own maid’s name being the first thing that came into my head.

“Maggie, eh?” He came rather too close to me and put a finger under my chin. “Lively little Maggie, eh? Good show. So you’ve been getting a bedroom ready, have you?”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Leering would be closer, actually.

“Why don’t you show me what a good job you’ve been doing? I hope you have done a good job, because if not, I may just have to give you a good spanking.”

His finger that had been under my chin was now tracing its way down my throat. For a second I was too shocked to react but before it reached anything crucial I leaped away. It took all my self-control not to behave as I would normally and tell him what I thought of him. In my head I was screaming that maids do not stamp on toes, kick in shins, or employ any other known method of self-defense without being dismissed on the spot. “I’ll just put these flowers in water for you, sir,” I said. “They look as if they are about to wilt.”

Then I fled in the direction of the kitchen. I had heard whispered stories about men having their way with servants, but it had never crossed my mind that this might be a hazard of my new profession. I was still in the kitchen when I heard voices and came back to find a woman in the front hall. She was on the chubby side with peroxide blond hair set in neat little waves, a lot of face makeup, and an expensive-looking fur draped around her neck. She was also surrounded by an aura of perfume. Mrs. Bantry-Bynge had arrived. Saved by the bell, I thought.