iris 👁

ONIISAN means brother. That's the line that keeps repeating in my head. Oniisan means brother.

The man with the sharp cheekbones and dark brown hair. The man who reached down into my shirt, whom I consequently slapped. The man who, in hindsight, was just trying to help.

He's the little girl's brother, which means he's the Satohs' only son, which means he's my target.

And I called him a molester.

Burying my face into the pillow, I scream in frustration. As first impressions go, this has got to be at the bottom of the list. No, it's not even on the list. Showing up with food stuck in your teeth and being accidentally rude – that's a bad first impression. What I did just now was a terrorist act, that's what it was. A terrorist act that's shot down all my chances.

No. Stop. Think positive. There may be a slim chance for me to redeem myself yet. I sit up. All I need do to is apologize and clear up the misunderstanding. That's it. Apologize for my ratty old sandals, ungainly screaming, and that slap to the face ... I place a hand to my mouth in horror. It had been such a forceful slap too.

The door of the bedroom pushes open, and Anita enters. She stops in surprise.

"You're still here? I was just about to clean up the guest bedroom. Weren't you leaving on the first train this morning?"

"Not anymore. Things, um, changed. It looks like I'll be staying in Ryefair indefinitely."

"I hope you're not planning on being a permanent guest," Anita remarks in that brusque fashion of hers. "There's a limit to kindness, you know."

"Of course not!" I say hastily. "But I heard you guys were looking for a farm helper?"

"Where'd you heard that?"

"This little girl with yellow pigtails ..."

"Ah! I see you've met our young lady. Satoh Chihiro, that's her name. She was supposed to help advertise the job today in the village. Instead, she spent her morning chasing a frog, I heard."

I wince. Oops.

"But that's just Chihiro for you. A madcap of a child if I ever seen one." The affection is plain in the housekeeper's voice.

Anita pauses in between folding bedsheets to eye me suspiciously. "You know, you never did tell us how you came about Ryefair. A runaway princess in a ridiculous ballgown."

I frown. Hey now, that's a bit rude. I look at where the dress is hanging, freshly cleaned in the wardrobe. The only physically tangible link to my London life. That and the broken Jimmy Choos, which I'm still hoping desperately that I can get fixed.

"It may be ridiculous," I say defensively, "but it's all I have left."

"From?"

"From ..." I falter. What should I say? From my marriage to Jared? But I know it runs deeper than that.

I remember the day I came home and told my father I was engaged to be married. At that point, he and I were already barely on speaking terms.

"Jared proposed," I announced the second I walked into the house. "I accepted. I'm moving out today." Then I tossed the house keys on the coffee table. "I don't expect I'll ever need these anymore. Or anything else from you, for that matter."

My father didn't say anything. He didn't tell me that three months of dating were too short for marriage (which was what Heather said). He didn't ask me if I really loved Jared or if I was just grabbing any excuse to leave (which was, again, what Heather said). He never looked up from his newspaper.

All I heard was a dry rustling as he flicked a page and started reading the sports section.

And that was fine by me. I've long learned not to expect anything more than disappointment from my father. So, I walked out that house, spent the next six weeks designing my dream wedding, got married exactly the way I wanted, and have never spoken to my father since.

"Is it a man?" Anita's voice shakes me out of my reverie. "Pretty girl like you; if you're running away from something, it's usually a man."

"Who says I'm running away from anything?" My voice comes out a bit more uptight than I like.

"Teddy said you came by the midnight train, and it's obvious you've never used public transport before. He said you kept going on about how trains don't need sleep?" Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, but Anita's eyes are twinkling with good humour. "You were desperate to get someplace, but now you're not. It sounds like you're trying to hide here in our village."

Hiding out in Ryefair? Sounds like a terrible choice, if you ask me. What with the frogs and the cows and severe lack of respectable hotels ... if not for Rich Husband 2.0, I wouldn't spend another minute in this backwater town. But since I have no other options ...

Anita pulls back the curtains and open the windows. Sunlight streams in, dappled by the leaves of a tall elm tree. Honeysuckle and jasmine wafts in on the afternoon breeze, and in the distance, there's the joyful barking of a dog.

"It's not that bad," I say softly.

"If you want that farm helper position, you'd best go find Mr Satoh as soon as possible. I hear there's someone else interested in it as well; this woman named Imelda came by this morning recommending her daughter."

I jump up from the bed in alarm. Imelda! That sneaky woman must have the same strategy as I do. There's no time to waste.

"Where's Mr Satoh?"

"Probably in his study. Straight down the hallway, second room from the right."

I find the door per Anita's instructions. Knocking, I realize belatedly that I'm about to step into my very first job interview. Without any preparation whatsoever. With zero understanding of the position I'm applying for. But it's too late now, because I hear Hayate's voice commanding,

"Enter!"

The study room is well-lit and stacked high with books on both sides. The mahogany desk is messy with several manuscripts. The man himself is standing by the window, puffing a pipe. He raises an eyebrow, evidently not expecting me, but says nothing.

This is the man I'm about to lie to. The man who has Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution kept beside Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action. I've also noticed his glass cabinet of awards, with fancy titles like Deal of the Year and Property Company of the Year (there's two of those). Then there are the framed newspaper cuttings lining the walls, including one that looks like him and Steve Jobs.

I swallow, sufficiently intimidated. "I've come to apply for the farm helper position," I squeak.

Hayate takes the pipe out from his mouth. "I thought you were leaving today."

What a stentorian voice. "Yes, but something came up and I've decided to stay. It would be great if I can get a job here in the house. That is, if you'll have me ... sir."

"Hmm." Hayate gestures for me to take a seat. "Any experience with animal care?"

If I hadn't heard about Imelda's daughter fighting for the same position, I might have gone for the whole no-but-I'm-willing-to-learn approach. As it is, I can no longer afford to have anything jeopardize my chances. I must appear to be the most suitable candidate for the position ... while not knowing at all what that position is about.

I straighten up in the chair. I visualize myself as this powerful businesswoman, dressed in a Burberry blouse, Levi jeans and silver heels. I am stunning. I am confident. I am Iris Monet.

I am also going to cheat by using the Internet.

Reaching into the pocket of my jeans surreptitiously, I pull out my mobile and tap on Google. The screen loads, then turns grey. No Internet connection detected.

Fuck.

"Miss Monet?" Hayate prods.

Screw it, I'm going to wing it. Clearing my throat, I shake out my hair. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I have an abundance of animal care experience. All at my old employers ... the Darlings."

"Your old employers are called the Darlings?"

My smile is tight. "It's a ridiculous name, I know. How pretentious must one be to call themselves Darlings? I would never be caught dead with such a surname. Imagine the amount of bullying."

"Why did you leave the position? Did they fire you?"

"Not exactly. You see" – here I pause – "Mr Darling was eaten by a shark."

Hayate blinks, taken aback. "A shark? How did that happen?"

I sigh, a sound full of sorrow. "It all happened during Mr and Mrs Darling's third wedding anniversary. To celebrate, they went on a four-day cruise in the Caribbean. On the second day, Jared – that is, Mr Darling – went a bit too overboard on the champagne and, well. You know how men get when they're drunk."

Hayate's face shows me clearly that he does not.

"They get carried away," I explain. "Liquid courage, you know. Someone dared him to jump off the ship and into the sea, which was a dumb prank and we did tell him so, but he did it anyway, and then he got eaten by a shark and Mrs Darling was too traumatized to keep anymore pets and I was released from my position. The end."

I sit back in my chair. There's stunned silence for a few seconds.

"But why would a shark suddenly attack him?" Hayate asks at last. "Sharks don't usually go after humans unless they're directly provoked. The presence of the cruise ship must have scared it off, surely?"

Right. Good point. What could have provoked a shark to ignore the ship and attack the man? Think Iris, think –

Snapping my fingers, I blurt out, "Sausages!"

"Excuse me?"

"He had a string of sausages around his neck when he jumped. Made from raw ground meat. The smell was what attracted the shark, I reckon." Hayate is looking completely bewildered, and I hurriedly put on my most sympathetic face. "It was such a tragedy. I can still remember Mrs Darling at the funeral, kneeling beside his casket, sobbing. I'll never forget what she said."

Raising my voice, I start to wail. "I told him not to make a sausage necklace! I told him! 'Don't make a sausage necklace, darling, don't!' "

"But - why did he have a sausage necklace in the first place?"

I shrug, a wide rolling motion of my shoulders. "Who knows what goes on in the mind of the rich? When you have too much money in the world, you do some pretty crazy things."

Holding my breath, I watch Hayate push up his spectacles as he tries to digest this information.

"I see," he finally says. "You must have been saddened to lose your employer so suddenly."

"Oh, no," I say, with a bit too much vehemence. "Not at all. Mr Darling was a nasty piece of work. Body odour, balding head, always hitting on other women. I still maintain that his wife is better off without him."

Hayate looks startled. "I see," he repeats. "Perhaps karma is truly a thing after all, then." He clears his throat, changing the subject. "How many animals did you take care of during your time with the Darlings?"

"Two dogs. Several cats. One goldfish. And ... a dodo."

My answer receives a raised eyebrow. "Didn't that last one go extinct in the 16th century?"

I really need to stop watching animal documentaries halfway.

"I mean ... that we had a pet parrot named Dodo! Because that's what it says all day long." Taking a deep breath, I squawk, "Do-do! Do-do!"

Hayate's eyebrows look like they're ready to fly off his forehead and shoot through the roof. "How interesting. But that sounds like you're more accustomed to family pets than farm animals. I'm afraid our animals here are much bigger."

Much bigger? How big can an animal get? "I've also had experience with cows." I start nodding. "Cows, and sheep, and horses, yes."

"What about reptiles?"

Disgusting scaly things. "I love them. I think they're cute."

My prospective employer chuckles. "Cute is doubtful, but it's good that you're not afraid of them. The last girl we had resigned after Riku nearly took her finger off."

Okay, now I'm alarmed. Who's Riku and how terrifying must he be to be able to take someone's finger off? My mind is racing through all the aggressive reptiles I know, and – oh, Jesus. Surely they don't keep crocodiles here, do they?

"Well, Miss Monet, it's good that you have so much experience with animals." He stands up, and I feel a surge of relief at the idea of the interview ending. I don't know how many more animal anecdotes I can conjure up. "Perhaps an estate tour can give you a better idea of what you'll be dealing with."

Hayate opens his study door and I follow him out. "Here in the farm, we keep quite a number of animals. We do have a farm manager, and it'll be him that you'll deal with on a daily basis."

We descend the stairs, and this seems like the right time to ask him questions about his family. Specifically, his son.

"Do you and your wife live alone?" I began tentatively.

"No. There's Anita the housekeeper, who I believe you've met. We also have our own chef. Ah, here we go."

Hayate pushes open a side door and I follow him out into the house compound.

"There's a lake over there," he points out. "We keep fish in it, and over the years it's become its own thriving ecosystem. That's the stable, and behind that, the barn. We also keep chickens. My wife's dietary requirements are a little complicated, so I like to have full control over where our meals come from."

Hayate turns onto a stone walkway. I wonder if it'll be too suspicious of me if I keep pressing him on the subject of his family. In the end I settle on a vague comment about how the grounds are very well-maintained.

"We don't have a designated groundskeeper, but fortunately my farm manager is very passionate about keeping things organized." Hayate makes a large, encompassing gesture. "He used to run the entire place by himself, but as the number of tasks increased I finally persuaded him to get some help. I feared I would find him dead from exhaustion in a bush somewhere."

He snorts, and it strikes me that this farm manager must be on rather close terms with Hayate if he can speak about him that way.

"Speak of the devil. Here he comes now. Akai!"

I turn. And my eyes widen in shock as I do a mental spit-take.

Akai the farm manager stops fifteen feet away from us, halfway through jogging. His cheekbones are still as sharp as I remember them, and the neat brown hair from this morning is now plastered with sweat to the sides of his face.

His eyes land on me and I can see a flicker of alarmed recognition.

The Satoh firstborn ... is the farm manager? But what's all that about being the company heir –

Hayate is speaking to me. "Well, Miss Monet! I have to say, I'm rather impressed with your experience and fortitude, considering how unfortunately your last employment ended. I think it's safe to say you're suitable for the position. Can you start work on Monday?"

Dazed, I nod.

"Excellent." He takes a deep puff from his pipe. "Congratulations on passing the interview, Miss Monet, and welcome to the farm."