Readers: I have a new job - I am, what is now deemed a 'caring companion'. I'll explain what that is, in layman's terms - basically I have to undertake the care of one particular person; it's a private position and quite well paid for that particular field of work. I obtained the position, rather strangely, via one of Mother's old contacts, Mrs Diller, who recommended me to her sister-in-law, Mrs Smythe, who, until rheumatoid arthritis, held a seat on the borough council.
Mrs Laura Smythe's a strange woman in so many ways; she lives in a large detached Victorian property in a room off of the High Street, which is crammed full of antique furniture. She has one son, but he lives in Luton and refused to speak to his mother after she suggested that his wife-to-be was far too hasty to 'drop her drawers' prior to marriage (I really hate that particular phrase!) Mrs Smythe is a very mean woman and doesn't heat the house properly in winter, but conversely, dotes on her dachshund, Derek.
It's currently a live-out position and I've only been there for the last week or so. Time will tell whether this is the right job for me?
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