Nursing Mr Peters

As I walked up the long driveway to the house I felt a familiar tingle of excitement. The thrill of the unknown and the prospect of earning some good money always seems to have that effect on me. Every time I start a new job, I tell myself that this time its going to be great, different and a whole new beginning. And then within a few weeks I’m back to being bored, finding trouble and usually getting moved on.
This time however, was definitely going to be different I told myself as I rang the doorbell on the large front door of what was probably the most luxurious home I had ever seen.
A small, drab man in a grey business suit answered the door and raised an eyebrow as he looked at me.
‘good morning, I’m Tom’ I said with my best smile, ‘the new agency nurse?’

‘come in’ he said, ‘My name is Mr Stevens, I’m Mr Peters’ attorney. I’ll show you around, check all the papers and then you can begin’

The attorney led me through the house into a large ground floor office. Bay windows looked out onto the manicured lawns and the room was dominated by a large oak desk, with a leather upholstered chair into which he eased himself.

He explained my duties (in glorious detail which I shall spare you here). In short, I was to be a live in nurse/care attendant for Mr Peters. He was a very wealthy businessman who had had a horse riding accident a few months earlier. As a result he was bed ridden and needed help with virtually everything. A physically big man, it was too much for most female nurses, particularly at nights, so they had decided to hire a male helper, who would live in the house, be on call from 1800 to 0800 and tend to Mr Peters every need. In return, I would have free rein of the house and grounds, including the tennis courts, swimming pool and sauna during my time off. I had use of the family BMW and I was to be extremely well paid for my trouble. ‘any questions?’ he asked. Not wanting to spoil what seemed too good to be true, I didn’t.

And so, an hour later, having completed the paperwork, been given the tour and dropped my things off in my room, I was taken to meet Mr Peters. First impressions often are the best, and my first impression of Mr Peters was that he was a complete asshole….and indeed I was correct. He was bad tempered, rude and clearly a bully as he curtly acknowledged me, then launched into a string of instructions and abuse at his attorney. I can only assume the attorney was also being well rewarded because he took it without a flinch, nodding yessir and nossir, while taking notes on a big legal pad. Soon I was dismissed, and told to report back for my first shift at 1800, I would find my blues in the wardrobe in my room and Maria, the housekeeper would ensure I was fed and clothed throughout my stay. I could find her in the kitchen.

And so I began my new life working for Mr Peters. The work was not too bad, mostly involving cleaning Mr Peters when he had an ‘accident’- not a pleasant job, but no big deal for a trained nurse like me, as well as administering his medication and replenishing his pump feeder on time. The rest of the time I chilled out, swimming a lot in the private pool and occasionally hanging out down in the kitchen with Maria.

Maria was really nice and we hit it off pretty well straight away. She was a good bit older than me, probably about my Mum’s age actually and of Spanish/latin blood. She was what you might call voluptuous- not quite a ‘big woman’ but certainly no skinny rake either. Long dark hair, usually kept tied up in a bun and a lovely smile with a full and generous mouth- I reckon when she was younger she was a seriously good looking girl, and to be fair she still looked pretty fine to me. I liked to sit at the kitchen table watching her work around the kitchen, sneaking looks at her body as she bent to put stuff into cupboards and the like. I had to be careful though- her husband was the gardener and he was probably the biggest, meanest looking motherfucker I had ever seen.