Behind the closed door, Eleanor Price went about her daily chores at The Cedars. Silence filled the house but she was alert to the voice that called down from upstairs many times a day for her attention.

‘Eleanor,’ that sweet voice would say as she stepped into the bedroom. ‘I need a change of clothes.’

And Eleanor would often think, “I’m fed up with all this washing and ironing,” but of course, she kept silent. She’d smile and together they’d select a fresh outfit from a wardrobe groaning with clothes, handbags and shoes suitable for every occasion.

Four nights a week, the boyfriend came round and after each visit, Eleanor’s deep attraction for him grew. On those nights, Eleanor cajoled, persuaded and not once had retaliated when her judgement was questioned as to what her employer should wear.

“Don’t see the point. Your clothes will be off your back within ten minutes of him getting here,” is what she’d wanted to say but, of course, she didn’t.

Apart from her caretaking tasks, Eleanor had all the pets to tend to. Each one had their special needs and diets. Then there were the cars to wax and polish, and if one smudge was found, the elegant house echoed with her employer’s fury.

Eleanor, well used to these tirades, always waited for calm to return before rubbing off the offending smudge with a clean duster.

Nightly and forever indulgent, Eleanor made herself scarce when the boyfriend arrived. Tall and muscular, he bounded up those stairs like an athlete. Downstairs, she listened to their laughter and furious love-making and, as she listened, her sense of isolation churned inside her like poison.

Today, after returning from the supermarket Eleanor, going in through the back door, gasped at the mess in the usually pristine kitchen. Pans and glasses were smashed. Flour covered work tops. Rushing from the kitchen, slithering on debris, and out into the hall, she called up, ‘Barbie! Barbie!’

No answering reply came. Frightened, Eleanor bounded up the stairs, ran down the corridor and burst into the bedroom. There on the floor, Barbie’s torso lay naked, and her decapitated head squished under Eleanor’s heavy tread. Screaming, Eleanor raced back downstairs to call the police about the horrific murder that had confronted her

Weeks later, Eleanor sits hunched on a hospital bed in Maple Tree Psychiatric Unit. Under her pillow Ken, Barbie’s lover, lies dressed in camouflage and, though she doesn't admit to it, she's secretly glad that she now has Ken all to herself.