Mrs. Pearson had enough of her new employee. The girl was a mess and chasing away the customers with her stupid attitudes. As a matter of fact she was angry, but didn't lose faith in herself. She knew how to deal with problems.
Not that she wanted to talk with the girl, far from it, she was the boss and everybody needed to do what she wanted – point. There would be no arguing and saying sorry.
"Lygia!" she screamed from the top of her lungs.
Heck, it was past twelve. Was the girl still sleeping?
"Lygia!" instead of her another girl was passing by. "Hannah, have you seen Lygia?" she asked her, but only received a shacking of her head.
"I think she's still in bed."
Of course she is, she doesn't know what working means.
"Did she have that much clients that she's now tired or what?" Mrs. Pearson angrily asked her.
"I saw her with two, yesterday," Hannah answered, before quickly making her way to the kitchen. No girl liked to be alone with Mrs. Pearson. She was hated and feared by everyone.
"So two…that's not what I call an exhausting night. I think I need to talk with Miss Little-Rich-Girl. She needs to understand that she's living in the working class now," she mumbled heatedly to herself as the stepped up the stairs and made her way to her room.
The girl should learn her place in the world and that included that not everything was for free, that money weren't growing on trees and what was most important that nobody should mess up with her - Mrs. Pearson.
I've saved her from the streets. She's bound to do what I want.
She shut open the door without knocking and without caring, if anyone else was waking up from the noise. Before saying anything she took away her sheets.
That caused the girl to wake up. A cold rush of air floating over her body.
"Well, well, well…our rich little Miss is finally also caring to wake up. What a surprise," she mocked her. "My little Lygia I hear, who had just two customers yesterday. May I tell you that you're conflicting casualties on me? What do you have to say to your defence?"
The woman looked at her eyes wide, somehow strange, a little bit insane and sat up in bed.
"First I'm no girl, I'm a woman and my name isn't Lygia, but…"
"I'll call to what I please! You're a liar and a traitor and therefore the name serves to right," Mrs. Pearson hissed back.
Her head hurt, but mostly her under parts from last night. She had never thought it could hurt this much, but she had been proven wrong. Mrs. Pearson was staring at her with hatred in her eyes. After the sinking she had thought that her life couldn't get any worse, but again she had been mistaken. Never in her life had the met such a malicious person.
"Now get up. You need to work," she hissed, causing the diamond around her neck to be shown. "Ah, I see you recognize it…"
"It's mine; you've no right to take it. You need to give it back!" her voice was strong and stern; something she had inherited from her mother – at least one thing we've in common she thought bitterly.
Mrs. Pearson wasn't impressed at all.
"Keep your voice low, girl or I might not be so forgiving the next time and throw you out on the streets again. So you can learn what a hard life really means…"
"What if that's what I want? I don't want to be here."
"Now, don't be silly. In your state and with your obvious attitude towards work or should I say leisure – you wouldn't survive a day."
The words hit her more than anything else this woman could say to her. Not, because they were true – maybe they were, maybe not, but because they reminded her of a similar situation, of someone dear to her, who had said something alike to her not that long ago.
She remembered his sweet voice clearly. The first and maybe only person ever to really care about her. Now he was gone.
"I can see that we'll understand each other," she answered, when she saw her head drawing sadly away.
"You can't keep me here against my will," this time the voice wasn't so confident anymore.
Mrs. Pearson smiled. She knew that the girl had no other choice.
"Of course I can. I've helped you and you could at least say thank you. I know your kind of people. You think that you own the world. But I tell you what girl - now times are changing for you. People are not very forgiving to rich little girls like you in this part of the city...I'm sure your family told you about it. Can't be helped with all the distress your kind of people are causing mine...I don't think you really know how people are really like and what they'll do for a little piece of bread...," she began her eyes focusing on the girl.
"I´'m helping you out of pure gentleness. I could as well send you away again, but I'm not and all I want is some kind of thanks from your side in return. But instead you're an ungrateful rich brat and if you tell anyone about this…"
"The necklace...it belongs to me. I'm going to the police and tell them that…," she began, but shrank down under Mrs. Pearson's cold stare.
"I'm going to report you to police and believe me, girl, I may not be a respected figure in your society, but I'm certainly in mine. I've many friends, who're sitting in all kind of institutions…I've many friends at the police and…now I think we're even," she stopped herself. "No wonder, no one wants you with your hair all red…you look like a witch. I think you should dye it…blonds are much more successful. I get Hannah for it."
"You'll see my little Lygia; I'll make you a famous prostitute all over town. You'll be serving politicians and aristocrats all over the country," she laughed knowing that what she was doing was wrong, but enjoying it more like every other evil thing she ever did in her life.
When Mrs. Pearson was out of the room, she fell back onto the bed, crying until there were no more tears left.
How could she get out of this mess?