Six months. It was now spring. Outside it was beautiful. Not that I had the time or soul to notice.

The Waterfords were in a nice area of Boston, what that I could see on the rare occasion I'd stared out a window.

Me, I was vacant. Exhausted at being ever hyper-aware. Five, six hours of sleep a night in that closet. Hyper-aware the rest of the day. The routine was a salvation. I knew when and where, except when someone started bellowing. Stopped noticing a lack of feeling a long time ago. I was good at my job, threw myself into it. Sarah had once told me to slow down, "Don't show me up."

Conversations with Mrs Waterford were mercifully few. She and I really had no reason to converse, even living under the same roof.

The Commander was back and forth, Nick driving him to and fro. Sarah always noted when the Commander was home, it was easy to tell - the palatable tension in the house. His office was a hidden sanctuary. He and Mrs. Waterford maintained two bedrooms. I made up both of them. The handmaid's room was above mine (my 'closet', that is). This being an old, stately house, the boards squeaked, betrayed her late night voyages down the stairs to, where I assumed had been the Commander's office. I am almost positive that that was not allowed. But having vacant feelings, and being hyper-aware covers many sins. It is exhausting.

It had been six months since Nick arranged for this appointment. Going into myself, and giving extra effort to the work was the only option. Working, I could forget. The harder I worked, the more Sarah lorded it over me, but also the events at the holding centre or the domestic centre faded. Not all. When I remembered, I simply worked harder.

Only to be pulled back by Sarah. God, she was a tyrant.

I took lunch up to the handmaid. She was in the bathroom, told me just to set the tray on the bed. From her bed I could see into the bathroom, she on the toilet. She had a bruise on her face. We'd never exchanged anything resembling words - but I said, "Who hit you?" As soft as mouse-milk, I thought I could make out Waterford's name, but not which one.

Back in the kitchen, I told Sarah. Not that we were chatty with each other. "The Handmaid looks like she's fallen and has a bruise on her face." Without pausing or looking up, Sarah curtly said, "Mind yourself. Not her." That was the sole exchange between us that day.

Next day, Sarah sent me shopping. I'd never done it before. I'd been with Mrs. Waterford to other wives' houses, but not out alone.

For the second time in forever, I was on my own - which was both exciting as well as terrifying. The Handmaid had usually walked to Loaves and Fishes. I told Sarah I'd probably not find it. I asked her to draw a map. "Are you dumb in the head?" she shot out. But with her verbal description and some help from a few Guardians on the way, there it was across the bridge, over the river. (Approaching the first Guardian for directions, I almost could not get the words out.)

And another first. The bodies hanging at the walls surrounding the river, I'd never seen that. Hanged by the neck. Long since dead. Even at distance, the smell was undeniable. I was far enough away from the mass of them that I could smell them, but not vomit.

Loaves and Fishes. Other Marthas! Aunts were there moving us along, but we could get in some, "Blessed days!" or other such stuff. With real humans. Quite the contrast. Hanging corpses. Mingling with real live humans.

One martha came up to the juice cooler I was at. "Blessed day," she began. I returned her nicety.

"You're Rita, aren't you?" she asked, still looking straight ahead. Me, I froze.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Beth says hi." She stood silently comparing the kinds of juices in the freezer. She remarked that the orchards must have had a profitable summer this year.

She put a few juice concentrates into her shopping bag, closed the door, then turned to me square on.

"You'll do great, Rita, don't worry," she said before walking off. Do great at what!?

SOLE CHARGE MARTHA

When I got home, the SUV was in the drive. Sarah was in the backseat in her formal garb. Her thick, heavy wardrobe bag was in the back.

I just stood there like an idiot, grocery bags in hand. Nick came out from the kitchen door, looked at me. "Oh good, you're back. It's yours now. Mrs Waterford has dismissed Sarah. You're the Martha now. Don't blow it." He climbed into the driver's side, and they drove off.

That was, as they say, that.

I went back in, examined the kitchen - made a guess as to where Sarah kept the things she forbade to handle. Dinner was three hours' away and I did not have a clue who was to be there. With Nick and Sarah gone, no one was home, I had no idea how many were going to be here for dinner. Was today ceremony day?

I did not sleep for the next two weeks. There was no time for anxiety. The laundry, the meals, the planning, the cleaning, the mopping. It was me. Just me. It was the fifth day when I found the time to move into Sarah's old quarters, a slightly larger closet than mine.

The Commander had rules about entry into his office for cleaning. Sarah had always handled that. Now it was me and I'd never been. Barely enough time to do it all. First time, I'd put the Scrabble game away. Apparently, I was never to touch that. At least he didn't hit me, never laid a hand on me at all. But I heard about that one. He came into the kitchen next morning, pronouncing every word, "Never. Do. That."

One lunch, I asked Nick, "Is it possible to get a little help?" Nick said, "It's just the Waterfords, the Handmaid, you and me. The domestic centre is in short supply as it is. I'm not trying to be mean, Rita. There's five of us. Deal with it."

Lowering my voice, I said, "What happened to Sarah?" He just looked at me.

JEZEBELS

Two days later, Nick said, "Can you spare two or three hours?" I stifled the laugh! He continued, "The Commander's away, I'm not picking up Mrs. Waterford until late tonight. Besides, Beth wants to meet you."

The Handmaid was alone at home, as the SUV slipped out to the street. Forty-five minutes later, we were back at that hotel. Nick took me inside, through a service door to the kitchen. Beth was sitting at a table sipping some soup. She also had a large goblet of red fucking wine!

"Nick!" she bellowed! "You've finally come to declare your undying love! Oh look, it's Rita! Oh well. Rita, you seem to be doing well on your own at the Waterfords. You're going to make it, girl. Quiet, efficient. I bet nothing gets past you!"

Nick said, "Nothing gets past you, Beth. Do you have the boxes?"

"Nick, I told you I'll never disappoint! You just never give me the chance! Rita, don't fall for this guy. He's too nice. He'll break your heart." Beth got up, left the kitchen. When she came back she was carrying three boxes.

It was then that I saw at the end of the hall out in the hotel proper, two Guardians standing post.

Beth put the boxes on the table beside her soup. Almost spilled her goblet. "Serena's booze, a few boardgames and lady's mags for Fred. Oh yes, Serena's cigarettes. American cigarettes." Beth seemed so casual. She seemed completely unconcerned that I was witnessing this. Beth then gave a big, obvious wink, "Some contraband!"

On the ride back, I immediately spoke up, almost yelling: "Nick, what was all that?"

He was silent for a bit. "Look, eventually every Martha meets Beth." He paused. "She gets things." I asked if she got contraband for The Commanders? He laughed, "Commanders, their wives, contraband for Jezebels."

"For 'what'? What in the Lord's world is 'Jezebels'?"

Nick said, "I figured you needed to see it. Better than telling you. Marthas have quite the network. Commanders think they run Jezebels, but an intrepid band of Marthas run that place. It's better to be on their side. I think everyone knows about it - I mean, no one wants it shut down or Mrs. Waterford doesn't get her cigarettes! Commanders don't get their sex."

"Nick, there were Guardians there!"

"The cigarettes are important!" Nick said. "That's a high security zone!" Nick sounded almost sarcastic.

"That's contraband, Nick! Guardians don't guard contraband! And what, Commanders have sex with Marthas!?"

"Beth makes sure all hands are off the Marthas. But, it's why I wanted you to see it. Mrs Waterford is going to be home late tonight. I have a short turn around, I'm picking up The Commander just before midnight. But he'll be spending the night back there. A Commanders' perk."

Everything at the house was done when Nick brought Mrs Waterford home just before 10 pm. She went straight to her room upstairs. I brought her hot milk, and she took a pill with it. I'd never asked before, but it occurred to me that Beth's fingerprints were probably on that pill. Mrs Waterford told me to get some sleep, for no reason that I could discern. Usually that meant that she planned on being up early.

In bed, about 11:30 pm I heard the floorboards creak above me. Sounded like two pairs of feet, one with boots. It was the sound of people trying to be quiet. A minute later, I could see Nick putting the handmaid into the back of the SUV, without the Commander. Just the two of them. Had Nick lied about picking him up?

THE TURNING DAY

I was woken at 5:30 am by the SUV in the drive, and the clanking shut of the metal gate. I heard three sets of feet on the cobbles. A minute later, one set of feet above me. Then the house went silent. I got up and ready at 6:00 am. On days like today it was my job to get ready for anything. Who knew when anyone would want their breakfast. Or even tea or coffee. Get ready for anything, dearie, was how the Matron had put it. I finished the previous day's laundry to fill the time.

With her lunch tray, just before noon I climbed the stairs to the top, the handmaid had been (before last night) confined to her room for some unknown transgression. But the handmaid needed to keep her strength, another ceremony was that night. I certainly did not need the exercise. But I panicked a bit, I couldn't remember if I'd cleaned the stains off of the red kneeling pillow?

I opened the door, the scene on which my life turned was in front of me. There was a 'before', this was the 'after'.

I screamed, the tray fell….. I don't really remember much after that, except I was trying to scream as quietly as I could Nick's name. A blur. Too terrified to vomit. Nick running to and fro. Emergency lights flashing outside. Nick cutting Offred's body down, she had mercifully put a pillowcase over her head.

Then eons later, we gathered out on the drive and a Birthmobile was collecting the poor girl's body. Mrs Waterford said to the Commander bitterly, "What did you think was going to happen?"

How was I going to survive this? Damn you, Nick. Who were these people? "Damn you Rita", I said to myself, flooded with guilt, "I didn't even know her name!"