Personal Care Assistant by Karen Blayne

Oh by the way red tape first.

Be warned these short stories contain mature content or naughty bits and as such may corrupt you if you’re under 12, 16, 18, 21 or 25 depending where you live thus they are not suitable for you so put them back on the shelf and let them age for a year or two.

They were sort of scribbled for fun. They were first posted on asstr.org. If you’ve paid money for this book just be aware the author has not received any payment. In fact no one has permission to charge money for this book and copyright is retained by the author. All copies must be of the complete document. Asstr.org accepts donations if you’re feeling rich or even if you’re not.

Luv Karen

“There are some really good career opportunities as a Personal Care Assistant, you’d start at minimum wage of course.” I looked at her, “You mean cleaning up after old fogies?” “Well yes there is that aspect of the job but after a few years and with the right qualifications such as a level three certificate you could move on to drug addicts.” “Anything else?” “Do you have shorthand and fluent Portuguese?” I gave her a look. “Well I must confess it has been hard to fill that one, but that’s it I’m afraid. If you’d like to come back in a month’s time I may have something else.” She and I both knew there wouldn’t be. “Next week?” “I’m afraid because of the cut backs we only have time to see you once a month these days and if we don’t find you something next time I’m afraid you’ll lose your benefits.” Bloody cow, I got up to walk out, “Before you go could you just fill in this feedback form to show we’ve met our targets?” I looked at her as if she’d gone out, “Sorry but so few of our clients can read and write English these days and if we don’t get the forms filled in then we get more cuts for missing our targets. I’ll take your mobile and let you know if something comes in.” She pleaded, I relented and filled in the form quickly giving a totally false account of the interview at least she wasn’t as bad as some of them. Mike had got really pissed at one the previous week and had put him through the office window, satisfying but hadn’t done his chances of getting a job any good.

We were stood at the bus stop by the shopping centre. The gang had been window shopping which was all we could afford. Mike wasn’t with us ‘cause the security morons don’t like big black guys, they felt intimidated for some reason. I’d been down to the care home and looked round, I’d been offered the Friday, Saturday and Tuesday night 14 hour shifts to make up my hours to 42. Hello social life? I was considering it until one of the inmates, sorry clients, thumped another with his walking stick and had to be restrained by two care workers, whilst two old witches crackled in the corner. One of the old women goosed me, “Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart, you’ll get used to her, she’s just an old dyke whose lover died last year so she hasn’t had any for awhile. Now nothing ever happens at night except one of the old dears might have a fall, if so just pick them up with the lift.” She pointed to a complicated electric crane on wheels “and put them down on a chair. Anyway Janice should be back from sick leave by Friday night, she threw her back out lifting one of the old dears, and she can show you the ropes. If she’s not back I’m sure you can cope by yourself, you look resourceful to me.” Yeah right.

“I mean nothing, not even a supermarket cashier job, well since they got in those self service tills they’ve been laying off as well.” “I got offered Friday night waitressing at that place. You know the one where they have the skimpy uniforms, the tips are supposed to be good but by the time you’ve paid the taxi to get home I mean is it worth it.” The old guy behind us cleared his throat. “I could do with someone to tidy the house.” One of the gang asked “How much?” “Minimum wage I’m afraid.” Just then our environmentally friendly low floor equally access hybrid technology transit vehicle arrived and we all piled on. I think I preferred it when they were just buses and didn’t feel a need to proudly announce they were approaching the next stop. The bus was crowded and the girls went upstairs but I slipped into the seat next to the old guy. “I’m interested.” I said, well it couldn’t be any worse than the old fogey zoo could it.

He looked at me and sized me up. “If we’re going to get away with it we’d best get you a uniform then.” Uniform? Whatever. We got off at the store for dowdies. I tried my best to not be noticed and kept my eyes on the floor. He found an assistant and asked for something in blue or grey loose fitting, with a below knee length skirt and long sleeves. I tried on three different ones and he brought the worst of the lot. His eyes twinkled when he looked at me. “Now some sensible shoes I think.” Do you know how much sensible shoes cost? I could buy at least four pairs of trainers for that kind of money. I kid you not, only when I looked a complete frump with a white apron was he satisfied. I looked like one of those religious nutters that drive round in a horse drawn buggy and refuse to have anything to do with modern things. I was still dressed that way when we reached his house, I mean kinky or not?

“Now my sister will be here in less than an hour, I want you to humour me and quietly serve tea in a tea pot. Don’t speak unless spoken to and keep your eyes on the floor.” OK, I still had the midnight shift at the care home to fall back on.

The door bell rang so I smoothed my skirt down and answered it. His sister had arrived. She eyed me dubiously but I slipped away as her brother greeted her. “What a nice surprise.” “Well I’ve brought my lawyer with a draft will for you to sign.” “That’s very kind of you Shirley.” “Yes it is, after father died without leaving a will I felt it my duty to get you sorted out.” He tamely signed and the lawyer and I were waved over to witness it. It left everything to his nephew. Shirley meanwhile had been looking through some papers on the table. “I’ll take these quarterly copies of your funds statements, it will make it easier for the lawyers. Now I’ve arranged a home for you they’re expecting you at the weekend so Mr. Crabb here can get on with the paperwork to sell your house. No don’t be difficult you know you can’t live here on your own any longer. It’s for your own good. Besides it will make the probate simpler.” “I had thought about leaving something to the local cat’s home?” The lawyer stepped forward, “Nonsense it stays in the family.” The lawyer stepped back. “Now about the home, I do understand your concerns but I like the house and so I’ve hired the girl here on minimum wage, to keep the expenses down, to keep an eye on me. You must agree it’s cheaper than a home.” “Live in will she?” Glaring at me, I nodded obediently. Her nose twitched “Well I suppose it will have to do, for the moment.” She turned and walked out of the house carrying the will and list of funds followed by her pet lawyer.

“Is she for real?” I asked. He nodded, “It’s for your own good never is really is it?” He grinned “And your nephew what’s wrong with him?” “He’s a spendthrift but other than that nothing that a brain transplant wouldn’t put right.” “So I’m to live in?” I hadn’t been expecting that. “It’s probably best, there’s a choice of rooms.” “Couldn’t you just write another will and leave it all to the cat’s home?” “She’d make my life hell if she ever found out and she would you know. No for the sake of a quiet life the will will have to stand.” He led the way upstairs to show me the rooms, he took the stair lift and I walked three paces behind. How could I bear to be separated from my bitch of a sister? No question really, we’ve been about to kill each other for years sharing a tiny room and a bunk bed, it really pisses me off when she gets out her vibrator and thinks I can’t feel the vibrations through the whole bunk bed, mind you the morning after I always bait her with a concerned voice saying ‘boyfriend troubles again?’ over breakfast in front of the family and watch her change colour. “And I get to wear the nun’s outfit all the time?” “No no, only if Shirley is due to call. Though looking at your clothes earlier I’d say you could probably do with a few new things?” I brightened up and we took his credit card out for a walk and I brought two pairs of jeans, one pair of slacks, four tops and two tee shirts all top quality, you know guaranteed to last at least thirty washes, to wear round the house. The front lawn looked like it needed cutting so after getting his lordship’s OK I set Mike to work.

He seemed to make me his personal project, at school Shakespeare always seemed such a bore but he had some DVDs that really brought the plays to life. I think he must have selected the plays especially, I’m certain school selected the most boring ones to punish us. Then we moved on to operas and stuff, I was fascinated especially by the pirates in Gilbert and Sullivan. We got on well together experimenting with the recipe books he had and all sorts of fun things. Mind you he made me do the household accounts as well without even a calculator.

It was a month later before the gang met up again, this time on a Monday night ‘cause can you believe it most of the gang were working Friday and Saturday nights as minimum wage Personal Care Assistants. “Anyone want another?” I asked, “Thought you were on minimum wage like the rest of us?” “Well yes but there isn’t much to spend it on.” “What no rent or food?” “I hadn’t thought about it but your right I’ve no rent to pay or food to buy. So do you want one or not?” They all let themselves be persuaded to have a rum and coke with a slice of lemon. Mike came in with a new classy girl on his arm. “Meet my new partner Michelle.” After the crowd had settled down he came over and introduced her. “So how did you meet?” “Remember me cutting your lawn?” I nodded “Well the next door neighbour saw me and had me cut their’s. The next thing I knew was I was a gardener being passed around by word of mouth, ‘cause no one has time to cut their lawns no more. That was alright until they started quoting Latin plant names at me and I could tell there was money in it so I went to the college to ask if they did any evening cases in Latin but apparently there isn’t the demand these days. They looked bewildered as to why a black would even want Latin so I told them and they sent me round to their job placement bit. Did you know that even horticultural grads can’t get jobs these days? So we teamed up. She does all that Latin stuff and I do the muscle stuff.” I looked at Michelle “You can’t get a job without practical experience and you can’t get practical experience without a job. It works out very well, we get paid more because of my expertise and with muscle here we get the work done quicker. We’ve even hired one or two part timers, retired old fogies who know what they doing but are flexible about how many hours we give them.”

Later on as we tried a pretty pale green something or other through a straw with a slice of orange and an umbrella in it Kelly expressed the thought that I was on to a Good Thing and perhaps I should show him the advantages of staying at home rather than go into a nursing home. I didn’t really think about it until I spotted the perfect black night dress for wrapping some one round your little finger on sale. I’m hopeless when I see something perfect on sale and I’ve money in my pocket. I mean it seemed such a pity to waste it. Mostly sheer with a double thickness at the top, held together at the front by a bow and it had matching hipster very brief briefs that were tied at the sides with matching ribbon and bows. I wore it to breakfast the next morning and was rewarded by that very flattering stunned look you see so rarely these days. I kissed him on the cheek “You don’t mind me in my jarmers do you? I know I really ought to get dressed for breakfast.” I teased before turning to the coffee pot. “No but won’t you get cold?” Cold I was burning inside, his attention wasn’t helping me keep my cool at all. “Well its double thickness at this bit, cop a feel.” I took his hand and cupped my breast with it holding it in place with mine over the top. “And if I do get cold we can always go back to bed and snuggle under the duvet.” Now that was brazen for you, had I gone too far? I wasn’t sure “Well perhaps a little lie down after breakfast would be in order.” I smiled at him and we both wolfed down our breakfasts at double speed. I thought that every one over thirty was too old for sex but he proved me wrong, and he knew enough about my body to get me really hot before you know what.

He took me shopping to a tiny little shop that was packed with things like skimpy leather skirts that were held together with press studs. He brought me two soft leather corsets lined with soft suede. One was cupless, the other sort of squeezed my boobs up and together until they looked like, well they just did. Then he took me to another shop were all the underwear had bits missing. So either your nipples or the crotch were completely exposed, sometimes both. We brought them but I felt they were a bit too obvious so guided him towards some more classy items in addition. Oh and we visited the school uniform bit as well. Well you need a bit of contrast and they looked so respectable when worn over some of the racier underwear. Well perhaps not the pleated miniskirts by the time I’d shortened them over black silk stockings.

I was struggling trying to cram a bit more money in my old piggy bank when he passed my open door “Haven’t you a bank account?” He asked “Only with Mr. Piggy here and he’s a bit full these days.” “One of these days we’ll see about getting you one and perhaps an ATM card so you can pay for the groceries without me.” Whatever.

I had to sign lots of forms at the bottom, they were full of wherefores and herebys and other such boring nonsense, so I just scribbled my name where he pointed without asking questions.

About four months later when I went in with his early morning coffee he didn’t look at all well to me so I called emergency services and they sent a fire engine round which took him into A and E straight away with me holding his hand. At the hospital they finally let me in to see him and he was all wired up. “Got that funny phone with you that works anywhere?” I brought it out to show him “Dial my brokers for me.” The guy is practically dying and he wants his stock brokers, give me a break, but everyone should get their last wish fulfilled I guess. So I dialled the number and got the lady he wanted to speak to. “Sell everything.” He gasped. He hung on until tea time then had another massive heart attack. I was shattered and returned home not knowing quite what to do.

Shirley turned up the next morning with the lawyer. “Can you stay in the house until we get probate and sell it?” I nodded. I’d grown to like the old house and the kitchen. “I’ve an appointment with my dressmaker to make up some blacks so I’ll leave you with the lawyer to work out the details of the funeral etc.” The lawyer handed me an invoice for the basic funeral indicated in the will. “I checked with the bank and you have signing authority on his account so it would be simpler if you could write out a cheque.”

The funeral was three days later and I met his nephew for the first time at the formal reading of the will. I can’t say I was impressed and even less when he told me he’d ordered a Porsche knowing he had been left everything. I had thought I might be offered something by the family but no. The lawyer saw the two of them out together assuring them as soon as he had ascertained the full value of the estate he’d let them know. Then he turned back to me. “You know you’ve got the house don’t you?” I looked at him “But the will said...” “It doesn’t matter, you’d been added as a joint owner so on his death it comes to you and not the estate. You must have signed some papers at least?” “I don’t remember anything, on wait a minute when I opened my bank account he had all sorts of papers for me to sign with wherefores and such dry stuff I wonder if that was it? But even so I don’t think I can afford to keep it up so I’ll have to sell it won’t I?” “But what about the money in the bank?” “What money?” “You have an ATM card for his account don’t you?” I nodded, “Well to get that he added you on to the account so it’s joint. Why don’t we ring the bank up and see how much is there?” We did and of course all the money from selling the stocks was in the bank account and being a joint account it meant that it was all mine and didn’t form part of the estate either. “So nephew gets nothing?” “Well it will take me a month or two to determine exactly what assets are left for the estate and to let them know but I suspect you’re right. They won’t be able to challenge the will either as the will gives them everything anyway.”

All that cash in the bank, enough to keep me in some luxury for the rest of my life. I could even hire my own personal care assistant, a tall dark and handsome one, now what was the name of that college that had unemployed graduates available?