(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Island01.jpg)<br/><br/>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Island02.jpg)<br/><br/>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/VillaSmith01.jpg)<br/><br/>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/VillaSmith02.jpg)<br/><br/>LOUISE DESJARDINS<br/><br/>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/LouiseAvatar.jpg)<br/><br/>I rested my chin on my elbow and my elbow on the bus window rim and let the scenery slide by my small tired cone of consciousness.<br/><br/>It was early afternoon and as usual on this small Mediterranean island at the cruel peak of summer the sun bore wonderfully down and the crickets rattled in the dry grasses. Here and there the bleached scrub bushes, and dusty olive and citrus groves were relieved by the verdant green of well irrigated lawns, the inviting cerulean of swimming pools and the warm russets of earthern roof tiles as expansive and beautiful villas nestled in secretive hollows along this part of the coast, all of which was divided up into well fenced private plots.<br/><br/>The bus drew to a dusty halt and I stepped down, taking a few paces back as it pulled away in a cloud of hot air and blue exhaust. When it had gone peace reigned. Picking up my large cloth bag which contained<em>me</em>, all of me, everything I owned, which wasn't much, I crossed the road to the impressive wrought iron gates. Beyond them down the descending twisting driveway that curled enticingly out of sight nothing could be seen of the villa which lay lower down on a small promotory just above the sea and its own beach and boat dock.<br/><br/>I pushed my large white sun hat back on my head and pressed a button on the gatepost.<br/><br/>A brief conversation followed with an elderly voice which spoke in and sounded English. I converted from French to my sing-song FrAnglais easily enough and seconds later the gate whirred open.<br/><br/>* * * * * * * * * *<br/><br/>I reached the front door of the very pretty red roof-tiled and whitewash-walled villa nestling under lemon trees and a stunning pink-blossomed bougainvillea. I rang the bell and the door was shortly opened.<br/><br/><strong>"Bonjour, je m'appelle Louise DesJardins, je sont venus au sujet du travail?"<br/><br/>"Oh! Pardon... uh, excuse me. Je suis désolé. I am here for the job? The maid? Please?"</strong>