by Janey Fraser
She led the way to a table in the corner of the sitting room bearing neat piles of books. The children stood up and introduced themselves politely. Jilly’s mind went back to the twins whom she’d left at home, watching a video while Nick ‘babysat’.
‘You said you wanted to explain why you placed our au pair with someone else.’
This felt worse than she’d imagined it would! ‘Strictly speaking, Heidi wasn’t exactly your au pair—’
‘We had an interview booked and you said we could have first refusal.’
Jilly had been going to tell a white lie. Something about making ‘a mistake’ with her paperwork. But now as she looked around this tiny but immaculate house with the beautifully behaved children and the ordered heaps of paperwork which were so different from her own untidy kitchen-table files, she found herself unable to add another moral mistake to the first.
‘An electricity bill?’ The frown lines above those wire-rimmed glasses, deepened. ‘Why are you giving me this?’
‘It’s why I gazumped you,’ said Jilly quietly. Then, in a low voice, so the children didn’t hear, she explained about her husband’s job and the bills which weren’t being paid and how she knew it had been wrong to take the higher offer but hadn’t been able to resist.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jilly ended, wishing Mrs Parks would say something. ‘But I have another girl who’s just come on to my books and might be suitable. I will, of course, refund your fee whether you take her or not.’
There was a long silence, punctuated only by the polite ‘your go’s’ from the kids round the Monopoly board. Then the face in front of her softened and Jilly felt a flicker of hope. ‘It was quite brave of you to tell me this.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t mention it to anyone else.’
She seemed to hesitate. ‘All right. I accept your apology and the refund. Do you have details of this new au pair?’
‘I can email them to you.’ Jilly bit her lip. ‘Would you in turn take down those comments on the net about my business?’
There was a short silence broken only by the soft call of ‘I’ve won!’ from one of the children. Then finally Mrs Parks nodded. ‘Very well.’
Thank heavens! ‘Did you really complain to the trading standards people?’
‘Not yet. I wanted us to speak first. You were still wrong, you know.’
Jilly nodded, feeling as though she was in the headmaster’s study. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a lesson for me. Honestly.’
Light-headed with relief, Jilly returned home via Paula’s after first ringing Nick to check that everything was all right at home. He was fifteen, she told herself. Her own mother had often left her in charge of her brother at that age. Besides it was good for him to have some responsibility.
‘Hello, stranger.’ A tanned Paula in her leotard opened the door. There was a catch in her voice that gave Jilly an odd feeling.
‘Thought I’d pop round quickly after a meeting to see if you had a good holiday.
‘A meeting,’ Paula repeated, saying the word in a slightly acidic way. ‘Sounds very grand.’
‘Not really.’ Jilly had been going to confide in Paula about the whole horrid gazumping business but decided now that this wasn’t the time.
Was it her imagination or was her friend acting rather coolly? She hadn’t even invited Jilly into the kitchen as usual. They were just standing there in the hall next to the art deco umbrella stand Paula had bought from the Affordable Crafts Show at Kensington the other month. ‘Actually, there’s something you ought to know.’
Paula looked irritated. ‘Can’t it wait? I’m just going to a meditation class. You ought to try it. Might calm you down.’
What was up with her? Recently, she’d been incredibly tetchy. Hurt, Jilly tried again. ‘Did you get the message I left on your answerphone when you were away?’
‘I had lots of messages. I’m still working my way through them.’
‘The thing is …’ Jilly stopped, wondering how to put this. ‘Well, Marie-France – you know, the au pair I placed with Dawn – knows your Antoinette through language school. She says Antoinette has been leaving Immy completely alone at home while she goes out.’
Paula’s face wrinkled in disbelief. ‘That’s ridiculous! If she did that, I’d know about it.’
‘Apparently Antoinette told Immy that if she split, something bad would happen to her.’
Her friend’s lips tightened. ‘Your girl is making trouble.’ She paused as though she’d just thought of something. ‘Or you could be making it up so I’ll get rid of Antoinette and take one of your girls so you can charge me a placement fee.’
Jilly took a step backwards. Right into the art deco umbrella stand, banging her heel. Ouch. ‘How could you say such a thing?’
‘Well, we all know how you’re finding it hard to make ends meet. And, frankly, I was shocked when I heard you gazumped the Parkses for the Banks family.’
Did everyone know about it? ‘I’ve sorted that one out,’ began Jilly weakly.
‘Yes, well, I don’t need you to sort me out. I’m sorry but I don’t appreciate your interference in my family when you can’t even sort out your own stuff. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a class to get to. And an umbrella stand to tidy up.’
Jilly drove home in a state of shock. How could her so-called ‘best friend’ treat her like that? Or was it her fault? Had David been right when he said that the business had changed her?
After all, before starting her agency, she wouldn’t have dreamed of letting people down or leaving her son in charge of the twins for longer than she’d meant … oh my God. Going into the house, Jilly stared around her, feeling her spirits sink even more.
The place was a mess! Food was strewn all over the sitting-room carpet and the twins were still in their pyjamas, glued to the shared computer. Fat Eema, back from an antenatal appointment, was squatting next to them, knitting some shapeless object and stuffing herself every now and then with huge handfuls of popcorn, some of which reached her mouth and some of which fell on to the carpet. Nick was nowhere to be seen.
‘Harry? Alfie?’
Neither moved. No wonder they’d already exceeded their internet allowance that month. Unless it was Fat Eema downloading Turkish films …
Striding across the room towards the router, she yanked the plug out of the socket. Instant reaction! Even Fat Eema paused mid-mouthful to see what was going on.
‘Where is Nick?’ she repeated.
‘Gone out.’ Harry was grabbing the plug from her hand and pushing it back in the wall. ‘He left you a message.’
What? Jilly read it disbelievingly. Someone rang and cancelled their oh pear. Said something about comments on website.
No! Even if Penny Parks took down her warning, the damage had already been done.
There was another message too, written in Nick’s uneven capital letter handwriting. That was the trouble with this computer age. It meant kids couldn’t write by hand. Not very well, anyway.
UNCLE GEREMY SAYS HE CAN COME TO TWINS’ BIRTHDAY ON SATURDAY.
Their birthday! She’d almost forgotten. Well, not exactly. It had just got buried on her list. They had planned to go roller-skating and Jeremy, dedicated uncle that he was, had offered to come all the way down to help.
But she’d been so busy with work that she hadn’t got round to ringing the boys’ friends. Which meant that if she didn’t do something right now, there wouldn’t be any party because there wouldn’t be any guests!
‘Uncle Jeremy, Uncle Jeremy!’
The children were almost falling over themselves with excitement. Her younger brother was always popular with her kids. Good-looking, single and with a rather nice rectory in Suffolk, he was also a child at heart.
Indeed, he liked nothing better than to turn up every now and then (usually at bedtime) laden with unsuitable treats like sticky sweets and DVDs with Parental Guidance warnings on them. Not exactly what you expected from a vicar but then again
, Jeremy had always gone against the grain when they were growing up.
Now he was here, as promised, to help her take the twins roller-skating. That meant there would be three adults to supervise, including David and – amazingly, since she’d only issued last-minute invitations – fifteen ten-year-olds.
‘Wonderful,’ one mother had gasped down the phone gratefully. ‘Two whole hours all to myself! I can tell you, I’m counting down the days to the end of these school holidays. They seem to have gone on for ever!’
‘Right!’ Jeremy was already holding court. ‘Who wants to come in my car!’
‘ME, ME, ME!’ yelled the twins.
‘NO, ME.’
‘NO, ME!’
It was a wonder they hadn’t shredded her womb to bits in the competition to get out first.
‘You can’t take them all,’ pointed out David, who always worried about Jeremy’s driving and passion for fast sports cars. Her brother had made quite a lot of money in the stock market before discovering God but no one could say he wasn’t generous to others. Taking elderly parishioners for rides in his latest car was one way. So too was spoiling his nephews. ‘I can get two in the back of this one. Don’t worry.’
‘Is that your phone, Jilly?’ David shot her a sharp look. ‘You said you’d turn it off. It is the boys’ birthday.’
‘I know.’ Jilly was fumbling in her bag to find the mobile, which as usual had sunk to the bottom. ‘But I’ve got a new girl arriving and her family is meant to be picking her up at Gatwick so I have to have it on just in case there’s a problem.’
He turned away. David had been doing a lot of that recently, both out of bed and in it. It wasn’t fair. She’d always understood when he’d been stressed at work.
‘Hello. What? Are you sure? That’s awful. Yes, of course I will.’
She turned off the mobile aware that both her brother and husband were watching her. ‘Something up, Sis?’
‘Yes.’ She couldn’t even bring herself to look at David. ‘Heidi, one of my new au pairs, has been rushed into hospital. It turns out that she’s asthmatic but the hospital wants confirmation that she disclosed this on her medical insurance form.’ She felt her mouth go dry. ‘I’ll need to check my copy, back in the kitchen.’
Jeremy patted her arm. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll wait.’
‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ Jilly raced back to the house, rifling through the folders for Heidi’s file. Yes! There it was. Occasionally asthmatic. Phew! That was all right then.
Hang on. What was this? Jilly’s eye fell on Heidi’s original application form. It had been typed and above each ‘a’ was a rather odd splodge as though there was something wrong with the printer. Next to it, in the same file, was the reference letter from one of Heidi’s former teachers. Heidi is the best student I have ever had! I cannot recommend her highly enough. And so on.
But something wasn’t right. All the ‘a’s in the ‘teacher’s’ letter had the same splodge on top, which, for some reason, she hadn’t noticed before.
It looked as though Heidi might just have written her own glowing reference …
JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR FAMILIES
Please remember to pay your au pairs on time, every week. Preferably in cash!
Chapter 14
JOHN SMITH! MARIE-FRANCE stared at the note for several minutes, hardly daring to believe it. Her father had rung! Well, not for sure. But the fact remained that despite all the odds – after all, it had been nineteen years – a Mr John Smith still lived in Corrywood. And he might just be the man whom Maman had fallen in love with!
As she sat on the edge of her beautiful new bed, all kinds of thoughts spun round her head. When Maman had tearfully told her the full story of her parentage, Marie-France’s initial reaction had been pity for her poor mother who had returned to France, pregnant, only to be thrown out of the house by her stepmother. But she also felt furious with her English father who hadn’t offered any support, either emotionally or financially.
‘I will find my father to tell him what I think of him!’ she had raged.
Yet now that anger had somehow diminished. Instead, she just wanted to find that missing part of her which every other child at school had had – and which she had been bullied for not possessing. A father.
As soon as she had finished her morning work, she dialled the number on her mobile, shaking with excitement.
‘Hello?’
She tried to speak but her voice came out cracked in her nervousness. ‘Meester Smith?’
‘Who wants him?’
He sounded defensive. Use some psychology here, she told herself.
‘I am sorry to disturb you.’ She spoke clearly but was aware that her French accent might intrigue him. It certainly had an effect on Phillip! ‘My name is Marie-France and I am an au pair in Corrywood. I am trying to excavate a long-lost family friend called John Smith who inhabited this town nineteen years ago. I place a note through your door and you rang when I was out.’
There was a short pause during which Marie-France felt she might be sick. Maybe she shouldn’t have said so much; the information would be enough for him to put down the phone if he was her father and didn’t want to see her.
Then, to her surprise, there was a chuckle. ‘A long-lost friend, eh? Well, I’ve lived all my life in this town so I thought I might be able to help you. Why don’t you come over here this afternoon for a cup of tea and we can talk about it!’
Marie-France’s heart leaped. ‘Thank you. That is fantastic! À bientiot!’
‘Come again, love?’
‘It means I will see you soon!’
There was another chuckle. ‘Can’t wait.’
What should she wear? Clothes, as Maman was always saying, sent out clear messages. She needed something that said she meant business but, at the same time, might make this man come clean with the truth.
Eventually, Marie-France slipped on a cool blue and lilac cotton dress she had bought in Oxford Road and placed two photographs of Maman in her bag: one that was recent, showing her in her high-heeled boots and faux fur jacket, and another in a shortish polka-dot dress from when she’d been Marie-France’s age.
Stopping for a moment, she looked at the older photograph. It was true. They looked so alike! Poor Maman. She had had such a difficult life but now there was a chance to put things right. Not that she wanted money – that wouldn’t do anything at this late stage – just recognition.
Monsieur John Smith lived on the far side of town but she had allowed plenty of time to get there in case she got lost. From his directions, it looked as though she took a left here and a right there and then …
‘Hi! Marie-France!’
A woman was waving at her from a house she’d just passed. Jilly! She was surrounded by a horde of children and an older man plus a rather good-looking younger one at the wheel of a fabulous sports car. Even though it would make her late, it seemed rude not to get off her bike and say hello.
‘It’s the twins’ birthday party.’ Jilly looked rather frantic. ‘I don’t suppose you’re free, are you? I’ve got a work crisis and I could really do with another pair of hands.’
‘For goodness’ sake,’ interrupted the older man, frowning. ‘You can’t not go to your children’s birthday party. I thought you’d sorted out the insurance problem.’
‘Yes but now I’ve got a reference crisis and another bunch of urgent emails to reply to, so I might have to join you later.’ She turned back to Marie-France. ‘Sorry. You’re probably busy anyway.’
‘I regret I have an appointment.’ She smiled at the good-looking man who was now getting out of the car. ‘Such a shame.’
Jilly looked disappointed. ‘I understand.’
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ said the sports-car man, holding out his hand with a smile. She knew that kind of smile. It meant he was interested. Marie-France felt a flush of pleasure.
‘This is one of my girls,’ said Jilly. �
��Marie-France, this is my brother Jeremy.’
‘Your girls?’ He grinned wolfishly.
‘I am au pair,’ explained Marie-France, still taking in the fact that this amazingly good-looking man was Jilly’s brother. Was he married? she wondered. ‘Your sister discovered work for me with a family near here. She is very fantastic at her job.’
There was a noise from the older man – Jilly’s husband? – who looked as though he disagreed.
‘Thank you,’ retorted Jilly with a ‘See?’ look.
‘Well, I must be off now.’ Marie-France got back on her bike. ‘Have a great birthday, boys.’ Then she stopped. Mon Dieu! Had Jilly seen that they had both climbed into the driving seat and had started the engine?
‘HARRYANDALFIE!’ yelled the father. ‘GET OUT OF UNCLE JEREMY’S CAR NOW!’
Marie-France propped her bike up against the gate outside an odd-looking house with a bedroom that looked as though it had been added on the first floor in the middle. The rest was all on the ground floor. A bungalow, Monsieur Smith had said on the phone, although she hadn’t understood what he had meant until she’d looked it up. The English language was a law unto itself!
There was a bell on the side of the glass door that led into a porch. Through it, she could see a pair of men’s brown lace-up shoes. There were some plants too on the ledge; the kind with prickly leaves and small pink flowers.
Marie-France felt a thud of disappointment. Somehow she hadn’t expected her father to live somewhere so … well, so ordinary. Maman had always been such a flamboyant person: surely she would not have fallen madly in love with a man whose shoes sat polished in a porch with pot plants? Then again, that would be his wife’s influence, would it not?
She rang the bell again, her mouth feeling increasingly dry. There was the sound of someone coming! How she had waited for this moment! From the minute her mother had told her about her English father, she had pictured him in her head and he … he was not like this.
Marie-France felt crushed with disappointment as a small, round-backed old man staggered towards her with a broad grin on his face and – oh no, his flies were undone! ‘Come in, come in, my dear.’