Alfie sat at the dining room table, his head throbbing after a long day of people not listening to him. When Tess placed a bowl in front of him, he drew his eyebrows together.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked.

"Soup?" She replied, a worried look on her face.

"Yeah," he said as he poked a very hard potato with his spoon. "I'm not really sure either." Sighing, he put his spoon back on the table and wiped a hand down his face. "Just go." He said, his voice full of mental exhaustion.

"What?"

"Go. Go home. Go to fucking, wherever it is you came from. Back to your parents. Back to your posh little life. You aren't cut out for this sort of work."

"Please…" She whispered.

"No. Alright. No. I'm been fucking nice enough. I should have thrown you out that fucking door when you nearly burned down the fucking neighborhood. Now you serve me this shit? You have to actually cook the vegetables. You don't just throw it in water two seconds before I walk in the fucking door! Get your shit and go the fuck back where you came from." Alfie stood and marched toward his sitting room.

Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood staring out the window at the orange sky.

"Please…" He heard her whisper from the room entrance again. "I will work hard." She promised, "I'll learn to cook. I can do it, I swear."

Alfie took a large drink from his glass.

"I can't go back." She finally admitted. "I don't have anywhere to go back to." She paused, her eyes scanning the room absently as she thought. Her uncle had always told her not to beg but she was out of options.

Tess walked to Alfie and looked up at him. "Please, Mr. Solomons." She said again, desperation in her tone. "I'll do anything you ask. I swear."

Alfie's eyes went dark before he responded in a low, gravely voice. "Be very careful what you offer me, Theresa, because I will have no problem bending you over that sofa."

Tess's eyes widened and she took a small step back.

Alfie, exhaled as he put his glass down and said with a tired voice, "You have until I find your replacement to change my mind. Fuck off."

Tess decided not to correct his presumption that Tess was short for "Theresa". Instead she quietly gathered her things and began her walk home, her mind racing. She did mean THAT when she said she would do anything. She'd kissed a few men and slapped one, Jimmy Fredrickson, when he attempted to get fresh but that was all. What had Mrs. Schwartz gotten her into? Mr. Solomons' language was horrible. She'd never heard so much swearing in her life, but he cursed in every sentence. Now he was talking about bending her over the sofa?

Tess was beside herself as she thought about what he had said. He was no gentleman. Had he said those things to Edna? Had he done those things to Edna? A strange warmth rolled down her back as her mind involuntarily pictured bending over the arm of the sofa with him behind her.

Tess shook the thought away, in awe of her imagination as it was. She was waiting until marriage. She wasn't a whore. Just thinking the word whore made her feel guilty and unladylike let alone imagine having sex.

When she arrived at the boarding house she found Mrs. Friedberg, the landlord, and asked, "May I use the telephone?"

Mrs. Friedberg pursed her lips but gave a nod. As Tess began walking back into the foyer from the sitting room, one of the other tenants asked in a snarkily, "Are you not going to remind her of the cost?"

"Shh!" She heard another hiss. "That's Mr. Solomons' new maid!"

The woman's mouth immediately clamped shut and she looked at Tess with worried eyes.

"Cost?" Tess asked, looking at Mrs. Friedberg.

"You may use the telephone to make as many calls as you'd like."

"You're sure? I can pay if-"

"No." Mrs. Friedberg insisted. "I'll not take your money and have Mr. Solomons hear of it. Make your calls, don't give any mind to anyone else."

Tess looked around the room at the women playing cards or knitting. They all stared back in silence and, if Tess wasn't mistaking, fear.

Picking up the phone, she asked the operator to connect her to her former home.

"Please don't be Phillip, please don't be Phillip!" She mumbled before the call was connected.

"Hel-"

"Mrs. Schwartz!" Tess interrupted and immediately burst into tears.

"My goodness child, what's happened?" The older woman asked, motherly concern rippling through her voice.

Tess glanced at the sitting room and lowered her voice in case one of the other tenants or Mrs. Friedberg was listening.

"I can't do this! He is looking for a replacement already!" Tess sobbed. "I miss my bed, this one hurts. I miss fresh air, Camden Town smells like smoke and urine. I want to come home! I miss you!"

Mrs. Schwartz shushed Tess, "Calm down child. Tell me everything. We will get it sorted."

Tess smiled and wiped her wet cheeks. Mrs. Schartz was always there to make everything better. Tess sniffled before she began telling Mrs. Schwartz everything, starting with her arrival but leaving off Alfie's comment of bending her over.

When she had finished Mrs. Schwartz said, "Well, Edna did not tell me she was leaving two days after your arrival. You wouldn't have had time to learn anything. That's my fault though, I failed you from the beginning. Every woman should know how to cook and clean properly."

"I can't do this..." Tess confessed. "I just.. I can't."

"Rubbish! Do you have a piece of paper and a pen? I will tell you exactly what to do for breakfast and lunch tomorrow."

Tess took notes diligently, hanging on Mrs. Schwartz every word.