No One Here Is Staff

How it begins

Mavis Hart received the invitation on a Tuesday, between a water bill and a leaflet promising to restore her youthful eyebrows.

The envelope was thick enough to imply that water bills were somebody else's concern. Inside, in gold letters, a retreat she had cleaned for seventeen years invited her to experience a weekend of complete belonging.

She turned it over. There was no mention of work.

At reception on Friday, the young man behind the desk asked whether she was expected.

'I was invited.'

'Of course. Your name?'

'Mavis Hart.'

His smile moved slightly, like a shelf tested for weight.

'The housekeeping office is through the rear entrance.'

Mavis put the gold invitation on the counter. She had dressed carefully. Her best trousers, a green blouse and earrings her sister said made her look formidable. She had not realized she would need evidence.

A woman came out of the night office holding a mug.

'Mrs Hart has the garden suite,' she said. 'Two nights. All meals included.'

The young man checked the screen. His smile resumed its approved position.

As he fetched the key, Mavis recognized a chipped blue vase behind him. She had reported the chip four years earlier. Apparently the establishment's commitment to renewal had limits.

The woman with the mug introduced herself as Asha Patel. She looked as though she had been awake long enough to see the invitation printed.

'There may have been a list error,' she said quietly.

'Is the room available?'

'Yes.'

'Are the meals included?'

'Yes.'

Mavis lifted her case. 'Then the error has excellent manners.'

Asha laughed, then glanced toward the office as if laughter needed recording.

On the wall above them, a sign read EVERY PERSON BELONGS HERE. Mavis had once polished its frame while standing on a chair. She decided to find out whether the words worked from the other side of the counter.