The Au Pair

by Janey Fraser

  He stopped. Usually people started saying how sorry they were when he mentioned Sally. They might tell him they knew exactly how he felt because their aunt had died of cancer too, or their next-door neighbour. But this girl’s face was scarily impassive. Maybe she hadn’t understood what he was saying, despite stating on her form that her English was of ‘medium level’.

  ‘My wife has been dead now for just under a year,’ he said quietly.

  The girl nodded. ‘I know,’ she replied, accentuating the word ‘know’ in such a way that he almost felt reprimanded for stating the obvious. ‘The agency, she tell me.’

  Not one hint of compassion in her voice! Still, Matthew told himself as he joined the motorway, maybe it was the accent that made her sound so … well, almost robot-like. He mustn’t judge her. Everyone was different. They drove for another ten minutes in silence until he couldn’t bear it any longer. Reaching across, he turned on the radio. ‘A childminder is due to be sentenced today for shaking a two-year-old so badly that the child will need constant round-the-clock care,’ announced the presenter in a sombre tone.

  Matthew froze. This was exactly the sort of thing he had been worried about! Nervously, he glanced across at Sozzy’s bulky figure. She had her iPod earphones in now and was furiously texting away on her mobile. Was she the kind of girl who might get up in the night and knife them in their beds? No, that was ridiculous. Yet things like that happened all the time. You only had to listen to the news.

  It was a relief when they approached Corrywood. ‘This is our town.’ He glanced across at Sozzy, who still had her iPod in. Goodness, the music was so loud that he could hear it from where he was sitting. ‘I said this is our town,’ he repeated.

  Still no response! He could hardly reach across and touch her on the arm in case she took it the wrong way, yet he still felt obliged to carry on talking out of politeness. ‘There are several coffee shops as you can see and there’s a cinema on the corner. Further down, there’s a gym where Sally and I used to belong. It’s good fun. You might like to join.’

  She turned round, jerking out her earplugs, her black eyes accusing. ‘You are saying I need to go to gym? You think I am fat?’

  ‘No, no.’ Matthew felt himself going horribly red. ‘Of course not. I just thought you might meet some friends there.’

  ‘I meet friends at school.’ She was putting away her iPod now in a small black case which still had a plastic security tag on it, bearing the name of a duty-free shop. The uncomfortable thought crossed his mind that she might have stolen it. Then again, if she was guilty of shoplifting, how could she have charged it? Matthew immediately felt bad for thinking the worst of a girl he hardly knew.

  Those black beady eyes were on him still as he swung into their road. ‘When do I start?’

  ‘No rush.’ He was trying to be as nice as possible in order to make up for the gym gaffe. ‘I thought that Lottie and I would show you around town tomorrow.’

  ‘No.’ Those eyes were unsmiling. ‘When do I start school?’

  ‘Do you mean your language classes?’

  She nodded emphatically.

  ‘I thought you were booking those yourself.’

  ‘The agency say the host family is responsible for finding out about classes.’

  Matthew was confused. ‘I did. I emailed details to the agency but I assumed it was up to you to book.’

  ‘No!’ A short, squat brown finger stabbed at the third paragraph on the sheet. ‘It says here that family pay cost of school.’

  What? He pulled up in the small parking space outside the house and had a look. Your family may, in certain cases, be prepared to contribute towards the cost of language classes but this is a matter which you must discuss with them.

  ‘We need to talk about this later,’ he said weakly. The last thing he wanted was an argument before the girl had even got into the house. ‘We’re here now.’ He gestured at the honey-bricked Victorian terraced house which he and Sally had bought when the wisteria was in full bloom. Before the thought of illness, let alone death, had occurred to either of them.

  ‘Why don’t we go in and I’ll make us a cup of tea before Lottie gets back from school?’ He paused, wondering if she could understand all this. If not, that might explain her brusqueness. ‘Paula, one of the mums at school, is bringing her back. It’s half-day today because they’re finishing early for the summer holidays.’

  She shook her head. ‘I do not drink tea. Just beer.’ She pointed to a bottle poking out of her bag.

  Matthew gulped. ‘Right. Well, I’ll just get your case out and we’ll go inside.’

  One of the neighbours – a woman he was only on nodding terms with – was staring through her curtains. Matthew hoped she didn’t think that this was a girlfriend. Not so soon after Sally. As quickly as he could, he ushered Sozzy inside.

  ‘I’ll show you your room, shall I?’ he said, wishing, too late, that he’d asked his sister down from Edinburgh to supervise all this. There was something rather tricky about showing a strange woman up the stairs!

  She shrugged. Bending down, he picked up her rucksack. Heavens, it was heavy. ‘I take it,’ she said, grabbing it from him and swinging it on the back of her shoulders.

  ‘If you’re sure.’ Now he felt like a drip. She was certainly strong! ‘It’s first on the right.’

  He waited, letting her go in first and hovering awkwardly outside because there wasn’t a great deal of room for two people inside. He’d spent some time getting the small spare room ready. It hadn’t been easy; not because of the physical effort needed to clean it but the mental. This had been Sally’s little study; her sanctuary, she used to joke.

  Now he was wondering if it was big enough. The au pair’s room does not need to be spacious, the agency guidelines had said, but it must be clean and comfortable. There should be a desk, if possible, so your au pair can do her studies.

  ‘Vot is this?’

  What was she saying? It sounded like ‘What is this?’ but it had come out in such a guttural fashion that it might have been something in her own native language. Perhaps he ought to buy a Teach Yourself Bulgarian book.

  Sozzy was coming out now, her face red with anger. ‘My bedroom! It is not fit for a dog.’ She was pushing him into her room now. ‘Look!’

  Appalled, he stared at the chaos in front of him. Last night, he had stayed up late to make sure that Sozzy’s room was just as he hoped a twenty-two-year-old would like it. He had put a striped bedspread on the bed; it had been at the back of the linen cupboard and he remembered buying it with Sally when she had been expecting Lottie. He’d found a clean set of pale blue guest towels for the new occupant and he had rehung the curtains so they sat more neatly on the rail.

  Now it looked as though someone had broken in and ransacked it. The vase of flowers was lying on its side and there was a damp, dark water stain on the carpet below. The bed was dishevelled with dirty footprints all over the pillow. The curtains had been ripped off the rail so the pelmets were hanging like lonely floral fringes. And there was a horrible smell coming from somewhere that he couldn’t quite place.

  But the worst thing of all – the thing that overwhelmed him with embarrassment and disbelief – was the childish note on the desk in large printed letters.

  GO HOME. WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!

  ‘I am so sorry.’ He was still staring, taking it all in. ‘That’s my daughter’s writing.’ He picked up the piece of yellow paper, which he recognised as having come from the diary he’d given her for Christmas – another of the counsellor’s ideas.

  ‘She wants me to go home?’ Sozzy’s eyes were even blacker, if that was possible, and she spat out each word so he could see the chewing gum in her mouth. ‘Your daughter, she does not want me here?’

  ‘I didn’t realise she felt like this.’ He was beginning to babble again, not knowing how to explain. ‘It’s been so hard for her, this last year. I suppose she’s got used to me being here with her and she doe
sn’t like the idea of me going back to work.’

  The girl was already dialling a number on her mobile. ‘I ring agency,’ she said accusingly. ‘I inform it what you have done.’

  As she spoke, there was the noise of a car pulling up outside and footsteps running towards the house, followed by furious banging on the door. ‘It’s Lottie,’ said Matthew, feeling the perspiration trickle down from under his arms.

  ‘The agency has answerphone on!’ Sozzy stared at him as though this was his fault.

  ‘Look, please, just wait a minute before you leave a message,’ he said desperately. ‘We haven’t really given each other a chance yet and this is as strange for us as it is for you.’

  There was the sound of small footsteps calling out from the hall. ‘Daddy,’ sang out a voice. ‘Is the oh pear gone now?’

  Matthew flew down the stairs towards his small daughter, who was standing at the open door, smiling at him sweetly. ‘Why would you think that, Lottie?’

  Her eyes widened in the way they had done this morning when she had declared she had no idea where her other shoe had gone. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think you do, Lottie. I don’t think it was very kind to mess up our guest’s room, do you?’

  A dark red flush swept over her face. ‘But I don’t want her here, Daddy. I just want you and me.’ Her eyes were pleading. ‘Please. Pretty please!’

  He mustn’t let her wind him round her little finger like that! But before he could say anything, something tumbled down the stairs. It was Sozzy’s filthy rucksack followed by Sozzy herself, clumping down in those sandals, leaving dirty footprints on the carpet.

  ‘I exit!’ She was lighting a roll-up as she stomped, even though Matthew had specifically put non-smoker on his application form.

  ‘I leave message for agency and tell them you are no good family.’

  ‘But where will you go?’ Matthew suddenly felt horribly responsible for the girl. ‘You don’t know anyone.’

  ‘Yes.’ Sozzy was nodding emphatically. ‘I have a friend in London. Goodbye.’

  JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR FAMILIES

  An au pair should be treated as a member of the family! Be prepared to spend the first few days helping your au pair to acclimatise to her new surroundings. Do not leave her alone on her first day. Take time to show her around your house and explain how things (such as the cooker) work.

  Chapter 4

  ‘THAT’S CRAZY!’ SAID Jilly, cupping the phone between her ear and shoulder while ploughing through her inbox at the same time. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure,’ clipped the voice on the other end from the Association for Au Pairs and Families. ‘You can’t be a full member of our organisation until your agency has been running for more than a year.’

  ‘So I can’t be listed on your register?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then how will clients find me?’

  The voice sounded as though she’d been through this one before. ‘You could try advertising in local papers and of course on the net.’

  Crash! There was an ominous sound from upstairs, suggesting that something had got broken somewhere. Oh dear! She’d let the boys lie in late this morning – it was the summer holidays, after all – so she could fit this phone call in. Please don’t come rushing in, making a noise, Jilly prayed silently. It would look so unprofessional. Just as well that the person at the other end couldn’t see her sitting at the kitchen table, still in her dressing gown without so much as a dab of foundation on her nose.

  ‘But …’ she began to say.

  Oh God. There was another crash followed by a yell. It wasn’t a he’s-going-to-kill-me yell or a he’s-broken-my-arm-again scream, thank heavens. Just the sort of normal ear-splitting vocal horseplay that went on from the minute that the boys woke up. Some twins were joined at the hip. Others, like HarryandAlfie, took sibling rivalry to a new level. Like potential homicide.

  ‘MUM! MUM!’

  Jilly felt a wave of panic. Setting up an au pair agency had seemed such a brilliant idea at the time. You can do it round the kitchen table, her friend Paula had said. But in four weeks, she’d only managed to get one placement and that was sheer luck because a French girl from a small village near the Swiss border happened to have spotted her website.

  Success! Jilly had matched her up with Dawn Green, a mother from school. In fact, she thought, glancing at her watch, Marie-France should be arriving at Heathrow about now!

  But apart from her, there was no one. How was she going to help out with the family finances at this rate? The mortgage payment would be coming out next week and that would leave precious little for bills, food and the other myriad expenses needed to run a growing family of five. HarryandAlfie both had feet that grew overnight which meant they needed new shoes again! At sixty-odd pounds a pair, that was no joke.

  She picked up the phone and moved to the window overlooking the garden in an attempt to get away from the noise, which was now stomping its way down the stairs. ‘Do you have any tips for people like me who are setting up?’

  The woman from the association sighed sympathetically. ‘My advice, to be honest, is to decide whether you want to go national or specialise in your local area.’

  ‘MUM! MUM!’

  ‘Definitely the latter. I want to make it one of my selling points.’

  Jilly could hear her voice rising excitedly, just as it had when she’d outlined her ‘business plan’ to David. ‘I’ve lived in this town ever since we moved out of London. I know lots of families here and I’ve pledged, on my website, that I will personally check each one rather than simply pass on contacts.’

  ‘That’s always a good idea.’ The voice was encouragingly approving.

  ‘MUM, ALFIE’S NICKED MY COMPUTER GAME!’

  ‘IT WAS MINE.’

  ‘NO IT WASN’T!’

  ‘YES IT WAS!’

  ‘But my problem,’ continued Jilly, moving into the downstairs cloakroom and locking the door behind her so she could continue the conversation, ‘is that I haven’t had many hits.’

  ‘Try getting in touch with foreign agencies. They can introduce you – for a fee, of course – to girls in their own countries who want to work in the UK.’ She sighed. ‘All the details are on our website.’

  Oh God. Harry (or was it Alfie?) was now rattling the door handle. ‘MUM, OPEN UP!’

  ‘But I’ve approached a few already and because I’m not registered with you, they’re not interested,’ continued Jilly desperately. ‘It’s a catch-22 situation.’

  ‘Not easy, I’m afraid. Goodness, what is that dreadful noise?’

  The door was going to come off its hinges at this rate! Jilly crouched down into a corner of the loo next to the Harpic, cupping the phone with her hand to try and reduce the sound of HarryandAlfie, who were now banging fiercely on the door from the other side. ‘Noise? What noise?’

  As she spoke, there was the deafening sound of glass shattering! Oh my God, had they hurt themselves? Jilly stared in horror at the small face on the other side of the broken pane in the door. Harry was yelling now and Alfie was jumping on top of him but there wasn’t any blood, which was usually a good sign.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ enquired the voice at the other end of the phone.

  In Jilly’s experience, the louder the yell, the more optimistic the prognosis. It was usually when one of them went horribly quiet – like last Christmas when Harry had kicked Alfie off the sofa and given him concussion – that you had to worry.

  ‘Yes thanks. My, er, my au pair is meant to be looking after the children but she doesn’t seem to be around.’

  ‘What oh pear, Mum?’

  Harry crawled out from under Alfie, triumphantly waving their jointly owned PSP, which had caused the FAD, otherwise known as First Argument of the Day.

  His small square face – a mirror image of his brother’s and so like their father’s with those dark brown eyes and mop of chestnut hair – sco
wled at her.

  ‘You said you’d never have an oh pear cos you didn’t want a stranger looking after us.’

  Why couldn’t her kids be as inarticulate as the national average? Their arguing-back skills were second to none. Still, maybe they could become barristers and look after her and David in their old age …

  ‘Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,’ said the voice at the other end. ‘I wish you luck with your agency. Goodbye.’

  Jilly’s hand shook as she took in the fractured spiderweb glass on the door and Alfie who was now pinning his brother to the ground. There was only one thing for it.

  ‘OK, everyone. Who wants an ice cream in front of a DVD?’

  Both boys stopped immediately. ‘Ice cream? Before breakfast?’

  Why not? It would buy time to ring their local handyman who virtually had a season ticket here, thanks to the twins’ capacity for home-wrecking. She could also email a few more agencies abroad to see if they would place their girls with Jilly’s unregistered Au Pair Agency.

  ‘Only,’ she added as they returned to the kitchen, ‘if you don’t make a noise while I’m on the phone. You know I’m working.’

  Alfie shot her a disbelieving look. ‘But you don’t go out to an office like Dad.’

  ‘No, but I have an office here instead so I can look after you as well.’ She glanced over at the small round kitchen table which was stacked with files marked MUST DO and CHASE UP.

  Ideally, she’d like to use the spare bedroom upstairs as an office but it was full of ‘stuff’ that she needed to keep, ranging from old files to baby clothes that she couldn’t bear to throw away. ‘Are we really having an oh pear?’ demanded Harry.

  She felt a twinge of compassion. Harry, the youngest by twenty minutes, was the worrier of the two. He was the one who fretted on the few occasions she left them to visit her parents in Surrey or to go up to London for the day. Sometimes she thought it was because they’d had to spend weeks in the prem. baby unit. For weeks, she and David had been allowed only to see them in the incubator instead of cuddling them as they had yearned to.