Chapter 5

Bowman made sure he took his son through all the activities he had planned but Dion would not do the garden and there was no convincing him otherwise. Often, Liam would curse each time Dion called on him. Liam hated his job entirely but it paid him well and he got to see Daphne. He thought that was enough reason for him stick around.

One morning, Daphne was hesitating on Dion’s door. She had to return his clothes after doing the laundry. It was unfortunate that Liam was nowhere to be seen that morning. Allegedly, he went for his morning jog. She couldn’t get him to pass on the clothes to Dion. And Daphne knew that Thandi would never help her out.

Finally, a knock. He opened. He saw her. He tried to close but she pushed it open. The door hit him bad on his face. She had pushed quite hard. The extra effort was just so she could be sure he that didn’t overpower her.

“Ow, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she tried reaching for him—

“Don’t touch me!” he helped himself up.

“I’m here to return your clothes, they are clean now.”

He pointed her towards the basket she should put the clothes on—Thandi would fold the clothes into the wardrobe later on. Daphne went and threw the clothes into the basket as told. Now, she was headed out. “I’m really sorry.”

“Just get out and close the door.”

**Serves him right for putting me through the hurt. I wish he gets a bump so, that I can brag about it to the others. It’s your fault, Dion, that I now have turned into a liar. I wish that bump gets a cut, to make things worse, so that a scar remains, and you will remember me with it. I don’t get messed with, boy. **

She had a smirky smile on. She walked through the passage, heading to the kitchen where she would deliver the news. There was a bounce in her step. She started playing music from her phone. She started dancing. Dion had a mirror in his hand, he kept staring at the bump forming on his forehead. Hearing the noise, he opened the door to look and found that it was Daphne, dancing. He got back in and shut the door. The bump was throbbing at this point. He tried pressing it. It hurt.

………………………………………………………………………………………

That morning had started off quite badly for Liam. Right after his jog, he went up to Dion’s room. It was his duty, he had to make certain that Dion was awake and well. Liam found himself being scolded only for showing concern over the bruise on his master’s forehead. “Get away from me, son of nobody.” Dion went on, “What makes you so worthy to know my business? These are issues faced by people of upper class. A mere peasant like yourself can never understand. I only pay you to be my tail, nothing more. If you feel that I pay you way too much for the little work that you do, do tell and I will gladly cut your wages. You suck at the job anyway. Now turn around and get out.” Though very angered, Liam still managed to scoop up the words, “Yes, sir.”

……………………………………………………………………………………..

In the dining room.

“Dion,” Bowman was amazed at the young man taking a sit next to him at the dining table, “what happened to you?”

Breakfast was well scattered on the table. “Liam, do you care to explain?” Liam only looked down. “Liam, you take care of him. You should know what happens to him at all times!” Bowman did not take the matter lightly. “If you truly value your job, young man, you’ll start working with pride.”

“Bowman, it is still the early hours of the morning,” said Dion. “So, quiet down, will you?”

“Don’t use that tone with me. You’re hurt and he doesn’t know anything? I can’t risk you like that. Maybe, I should get you a better guard.”

“It is merely a bump.”

“Next time it’ll be more than that. I’ve already lost your mother, not you too. Liam, you have to say if Dion is too much responsibility for you and I can find you another position—”

“Alright, enough! I just bumped my head on my door. It was a hard blow. Do not ask me how it happened. Just let it go. Now can we eat? And you can deal with this fool later, just not on my time.”

………………………………………………………………………………………

The taste of revenge never felt so sweet. Now, that Daphne got her first payback, she wanted even more. She wondered how he would look if he were to beg for mercy from her. In that instant, Daphne knew that she was not done teaching her master a lesson. She got up to a lot of mischiefs; one time she drenched him with a pail of water she had used to rinse bottles of spices, “Oh, would you look at that, sir! Aren’t you too old to be playing with water?”

And, another time she soaked his lettuce salad in grape juice and watched him puke. It was out of curiosity to see what would happen if he had grapes. She had heard that he could not stand grapes. He had no allergies—he just hated grapes.

Dion had a run-around with the devious little woman. He had already made peace that his father would never allow him to fire her and hence, he tried other ways to get back at her. His most ruthless plan was cutting wages of every employee in that mention and had the chef’s license revoked. That way he believed that they would all turn on her. “Try doing that again, little miss, and I swear I will ruin your life,” he towered her when dumping those words on her.

Daphne wanted to talk to Bowman about the wage cuts. All of the other workers had indeed turned on her. It was either they outright lashed out at her or simply tormented her with silent treatment. Everything was out of her control at that point. She hoped that Bowman would step in and resolve everything. She headed to his study and she found him with Dion. She had to turn back. This was something she could only bring up when Dion was away.

Sulking along the passage, she bumped into Thandi and Liam. “There’s the cunning little rascal,” sneered Thandi. “I heard everyone is mad at you. Oh, but I must say that I am a big fan of your work and your rare courage.”

Liam had to condemn what Thandi had just said, “Thandi, how do you support her in this?” he cried. Liam then turned to Daphne and expressed his thoughts on the matter, “You risked other people’s jobs with your silly little pranks.”

Daphne tried defending herself, “I didn’t know he would take it this far.”

“With Dion you never know. That’s why we all back off and let him run the world.”

Thandi sneered again, “Yeah, Liam’s probably right. A happy Dion is a happy world.”

Liam added, “As long as we get paid and paid good, the rest is just history.”

“Okay, stop! You’re both right. Now, stop rubbing it in!” and Daphne stormed off. She did not want to hear yet another person criticizing her, she criticized herself enough. Daphne had to find ways to fix that mess. She had to restore the worker’s full salaries and get the Chef’s license back.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

It was later that Daphne finally had a chance with Bowman. “Mr. Hill…”

“Daphne?” he became concerned seeing her spirit down like that. He stood to welcome her in. Daphne was his princess, he loved her like a daughter. He loved all of his employees, but Daphne was particularly his favourite. He felt a sense of parental responsibility towards her, considering that she was the youngest employee in the mention.

Bowman led her to the sofa into the study. “Sir, I messed up.” She said, “I messed up big time and now the others are paying the price with me. I have to fix this.”

“Then fix it.”

“How?”

“You know the problem. Get to the base and neutralise it. Do whatever it takes and worry about the consequences later, if you truly want to release the others.”

“I should do whatever it takes? Oh, I’ll pay. Dearly.” She got up, “Thank you, sir. You have given me an idea.”

Daphne was rummaging through files in Bowman’s study. She had patiently waited for him to go to sleep before she could ruffle through his home office. She was looking through the shelve that marked, ‘Employee Documents’. There, she found separate files of each employee in the mention. The files contained a lot of thorough details of the employee, she almost could not believe how much research Bowman had made on each of them.

“Oh, Daphne, focus,” she said to herself. “You are only here to find the contact details of the company that chef Clark works for. The company has threatened to revoke his license. I need to get in touch with them and explain everything. It was me who messed with Dion’s food, not the chef.”

Daphne did think, for a moment, to actually approach Dion directly and ask him to reverse everything. But she dreaded the thought that he might make her go on her knees and make her beg and grovel for his mercy. She was not about to reduce herself like that. Also, he might actually choose to be stubborn and not listen to her.

“Yes!” Daphne finally found the number to the chef’s company. She made the call. Among many things that she said, she added, “…exactly, ma’am. His right to freedom of speech was not at all exercised—and so, Chef Clark was not given the opportunity to defend himself. Chef Clark was ill-treated and dishonoured as always. In every right he does Mr. Dion Hill looks and creates a wrong. As witness, I have taken it upon my myself to speak for this innocent man.”

Daphne continued, “The news? You wish to go that far? Well, of course, employee exploitation and abuse is a very delicate and serious matter, but I do not think printing it out there is necessary. I just called to only save Chef Jeffry Clark’s license, not to haul up the dust…” Unfortunately, the call recipient was adamant on selling the news to journalists, there was nothing Daphne could do about it at that point.

**I will pay big time for this, I know. I wish I had stayed in my lane. Now look what I got myself into. That’s it! I’ll keep myself hidden until he goes back to Azania.**

……………………………………………………………………………….

It did not take long until Dion started receiving phone calls. At first, he showed interest to try and find out what the huge mess was about until recently, he went, “No comment,” at every call that came through. Finally, Dion shut down his phone. He went through his tablet; he found an article and it was about him. In that tight hour, few ex-employees had stepped forward to share their experiences in working with Dion Hill.

What is all this? An inside source? Who could…?

.

.

.

.

That scrap!