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The Au Pair

Page 22

by Janey Fraser


  First Christina’s revelations and now Karen’s! How was it that his PA had worked for him for over three years and he hadn’t known any of this? ‘I’m sorry.’

  She seemed to snap out of her reverie. ‘That’s all right. I’m probably boring you anyway.’

  ‘Not at all.’ He struggled to make it right. ‘Life does some really weird things to you, doesn’t it? Take death.’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t know much about it until … until Sally and it’s put everything else into perspective.’

  Karen smiled and it dawned on him that she was actually far more attractive than he’d given her credit for. ‘I know what you mean. Now if you don’t mind me saying, that report – the one that was due in yesterday – really does need to be finished. James is out at the moment but he’s due back after lunch. If I work through my break, I could get it typed up for you.’

  ‘That would be brilliant.’ He’d forgotten all about it. ‘Thanks, Karen. And not just for that. Thanks for listening.’

  She flushed. ‘Any time, Matt. All you have to do is ask.’

  It wasn’t until she’d bustled out of the door that he realised something. He’d learned more about her in the last ten minutes than he had since she’d first come to work for him. Didn’t say much about him as a boss, did it?

  When he got back that night, he gave Lottie a kiss and went straight up to his bedroom. The dresser was gleaming and Sally’s photograph – along with the others, mainly of his daughter as a baby and then growing up in stages through six-by-four frames – was dust-free.

  Matthew’s heart thudded as he picked up one frame and then another, just in case the twenty-pound note had been ‘mislaid’ somewhere else. But it hadn’t. It had definitely gone. Yet instead of anger, he felt deep disappointment. He’d taken this girl into his house. Trusted her against his better judgement. And now look at what had happened.

  ‘Genevieve!’ he called out as he walked heavily down the stairs. ‘Are you there?’

  She bounced out of the kitchen, wearing another of Sally’s pinnies; the one that showed a tipsy woman clutching a glass of wine with the words: One more never hurt anyone.

  ‘Genevieve, may I have a word, please.’ He glanced at the table where Lottie was icing some more chocolate cakes. ‘Not here. In the other room.’

  Her face looked apprehensive as she followed him in. ‘Is everything OK? You are pleased with my work? Yes? I polish the silver, too, like you ask. Look!’ She frowned slightly. ‘There is only one problem.’ She pointed at the cutlery which was lying on the kitchen table. ‘It smells and everything has gone brown.’

  For God’s sake! She had used the tin of shoe-cleaning polish instead of the silver one under the sink! Still, compared with what was coming next, that was nothing.

  Nervously, Matthew closed the door behind them so Lottie couldn’t hear. ‘Genevieve, I have to tell you something. Money has been disappearing in the house. I left some on the hall table and then some on my dressing table. Now it’s all gone.’

  Her cheeks grew small pink spots. ‘You think I am thieving? Yes?’

  ‘Well …’ he paused. ‘You do seem very fond of shopping.’

  Her cheeks grew pinker still. ‘I have my own money. My father give me my allowance.’

  ‘Then why were you so keen to ask for your first week of pocket money?’

  ‘Because I desire to go shopping.’

  ‘Exactly. So I wondered if—’

  ‘Do not say any more.’ She whipped off Sally’s pinny and flung it on the floor. ‘You think I am thief so I will depart.’

  ‘No. Don’t.’ He had a vision of her running off like Sozzy. ‘Wait until you find somewhere else to live.’

  ‘I do not spend another minute under your heads.’

  ‘Roof,’ he said automatically. ‘I think you mean roof.’

  ‘I book into a hotel and then I ring agency.’ Her face was red with fury.

  ‘But what about Lottie?’ Too late he realised he’d made a mistake not waiting until the holidays were over. ‘I’ve got a meeting with the school head tomorrow night.’ His voice dropped. ‘It’s to discuss Lottie and how she’s coping without her mother, before the new term starts.’

  ‘I cannot help you.’ Genevieve’s eyes were flashing. ‘You do not trust me. In my country, that is very bad.’

  ‘Dad, Dad!’ Lottie was at the door, taking in the scene with wide eyes. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Your father says I am a thief!’ Genevieve was crying now. ‘I go now. Goodbye, little Lottie. I shall miss you.’ She was hugging his daughter. ‘You will miss me too, piccolina. Yes?’

  ‘Dad!’ Lottie’s stricken face turned to him. ‘Stop her.’

  Too late. Genevieve had locked her door. On the other side, he could hear the sound of her opening drawers and slamming them before emerging with her suitcase. ‘At least let me give you a lift to the hotel,’ he pleaded, now wondering if he’d been too harsh.

  ‘No.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘I have called a taxi on my mobile. And I will pay for it with my father’s money. NOT yours!’

  Yes, Paula said rather wearily. Lottie could come to them the next day and Antoinette would look after her although she’d have to take her shopping in the afternoon. She hadn’t quite got round to buying school uniform for the new term.

  ‘You don’t seem to have much luck with au pairs,’ she remarked tightly when Matthew dropped off Lottie the following morning.

  ‘Don’t,’ he groaned, realising as he spoke that he’d forgotten to shave that morning and that he’d left his tie behind. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t had time to give Lottie breakfast.’

  Paula gave him a worried look. ‘Are you all right, Matthew?’

  ‘Fine,’ he said quickly. ‘Just a bit pushed. I’ve rung the agency and they’re going to see if they can find me someone else. I’m going to give it one last go and then … well, I don’t know.’

  He paused, half hoping that Paula would offer to let Lottie come back to her house until he returned from work.

  ‘She could go to the after-school club, couldn’t she?’

  ‘Yes but it finishes at six and I’m not back until later. Anyway, thanks for today. See you later.’

  By the time he got into the office, he was twenty minutes late for a meeting with the new client that Karen had organised. ‘You look as though you’ve been through it,’ she said, taking in his dishevelled appearance. ‘Hang on. I think I’ve got a spare tie in here.’ She opened one of her desk drawers and brought out an immaculately pressed blue and white spotted design. She blushed. ‘It belonged to my ex-husband. I know it sounds silly but I still keep some of his things. It reminds me of what I used to have.’

  That was so sad! His heart went out to this lonely woman whom he had clearly misjudged in the past. ‘I don’t suppose,’ he said spontaneously, ‘that you’re free tonight?’

  ‘Absolutely! Thank you so much, Matt!’ She blushed.

  Shit! She thought he was asking her out. ‘Actually, I’ve got a parents’ meeting at school to talk about the new term and I don’t have a babysitter.’

  Now she was blushing again, right up to her eyebrows which looked as though they had never seen a pair of tweezers. ‘I’m sorry. Of course. Babysitting.’ She was nodding vigorously. ‘I’d be delighted. And do I gather that the twenty-pound note wasn’t where it should have been?’

  He nodded. ‘I just don’t trust the au pair any more.’

  ‘Well, you can trust me!’ She patted his arm rather too familiarly. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be there.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll give you the address later.’

  ‘I know where you live, Matt.’

  ‘Really?’

  For a minute he had this awful picture of her stalking him.

  She blushed. ‘It’s on your file.’

  Of course it was. Bloody hell. He was getting paranoid. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose his marbles. He really would.

  A few hours later, he emerged
feeling drained but exhilarated. The client had approved his plans – raved over them, even – which had restored his confidence. James had produced a bottle of champagne from a filing cabinet and they’d all had a glass, which had left him curiously light-headed and carefree.

  ‘The agency rang,’ announced Karen as he walked rather unsteadily back to his desk. ‘You’re in luck. They’ve found you a Dutch au pair who’s already in this country and can start on Monday.’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  ‘The only thing is that the agency is shut now until then. The woman is taking a few days off. But she gave me all the details. I wrote them down. Here.’

  ‘Jan Michaels.’ Matthew glanced at his secretary’s notes. Twenty-three years of age with a degree in literature. Non-smoker. That was all right then. No eating fads. Great. Experience with children. Good.

  ‘They needed to know then and there,’ added Karen nervously, ‘so I’m afraid I said yes. I hope that’s all right.’

  He nodded. This time it had to work. It really did. ‘Sure you don’t mind babysitting tonight?’

  Karen flushed again. ‘It will be my pleasure. It really will.’

  He got back as early as he could. The meeting hadn’t taken long. It had merely been a short introduction to Lottie’s year by Mr Balls who used to be head of Reception.

  ‘How are you getting on?’ he’d asked in a way that managed to be caring without being nosily sympathetic.

  ‘We’re managing. Childcare is a bit of an issue, though.’

  Mr Balls had nodded sympathetically. ‘We’ve got that one to come.’

  Of course. He’d heard that he and his wife Gemma, who ran the Puddleducks playgroup, were expecting. ‘Congratulations, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Mr Balls’s face was shining and Matthew felt an unreasonable stab of envy at his good fortune.

  When he got back, Karen was sitting on the sofa watching television. The sitting room had been dusted, he noticed, and the carpet vacuumed, which made him feel rather embarrassed. She’d think he was a slob.

  ‘Everything OK?’ she asked.

  ‘More or less.’ He glanced around the tidied-up room. ‘I’m very grateful to you. Did Lottie go to bed all right?’

  She nodded. ‘Fell asleep while I was reading her a story, dear little lamb.’ Yet there was something in her face that wasn’t quite right.

  ‘What’s wrong, Karen?’

  She flushed again. ‘I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this but when I was tucking in Lottie’s duvet, I found this under the mattress.’ She held out her hand.

  It was a wodge of crisp bank notes. Including two twenty-quid notes, each with a black cross in the corner.

  ‘Looks like Genevieve might not have been your culprit after all,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry, Matt.’

  JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR AU PAIRS AND FAMILIES

  If you have an emergency, please feel free to ring me on my mobile! Day or night!

  Chapter 19

  HER MOTHER HADN’T been here long but already she had taken over the household. This wasn’t unusual. Whenever her mother had stayed in the past, Jilly had had to grit her teeth.

  Mum interfered with everything from the lack of alcohol in the house (‘I can’t believe you don’t have any Bombay Sapphire, darling!’) to her social life (‘You’ll get very dull, dear, if you don’t go out more’).

  But this time was different.

  Within a short space of time, her mother had somehow managed to clear the entire kitchen table so that you could see the scratched wood beneath again. ‘You need to file everything properly,’ she’d said briskly.

  ‘I did, Mum. Look.’ Jilly had pointed to the pile of folders stacked up against the wall.

  Her mother had given her a withering look. ‘What you need is an office. But there’s not much room, is there? Not with your new arrival! I have to say, Jilly, that I’m very proud of you. Not everyone would take in a pregnant out-of-work au pair.’

  The incredible thing was that her mother actually meant it. When Jilly had confessed that Fatima wasn’t the cleaner but someone who needed help, her mother had been surprisingly sympathetic. ‘It’s dreadful the way some of these countries treat women. If she says she can’t go home, she’ll have her reasons.’

  If only her mother’s empathy extended to her own daughter!

  ‘I could turn the twins’ room into a study but they’ve had to move into Nick’s to make room for you, Mum,’ Jilly now said pointedly. ‘How about the walk-in cupboard off the landing?’

  It was meant to be a joke but her mother’s eyes brightened. ‘Perfect for storing your files. We’ll take the door off. You can empty out the rubbish inside—’

  ‘It’s not rubbish.’

  ‘Darling!’ Her mother’s eyes were fixed on her just as they had been all those years ago when Jilly had announced she was giving up her career in HR to be a full-time mum. ‘Do you want to make a go of your little venture or not? I’m giving you the benefit of my business expertise. Frankly, people would normally pay me for this. Now, if you insist on staying in the kitchen, I need to work out a proper filing system. Where’s your laptop? Please tell me you’ve got wireless.’

  ‘Not exactly …’ began Jilly.

  Her mother let out an exasperated sigh. ‘For goodness’ sake, child. You’re meant to be running a responsible service here. People are paying you to bring reliable helpers into their home, while naive young girls are coming to this country thinking they’re going to have one long party with a bit of babysitting thrown in. Recipe for disaster!’

  By the end of the week, Jilly had brokered an agreement between Margit and Birgitta and their respective families. She’d also, thanks to Mum, sorted out a ‘proper filing system’ with a back-up. ‘Essential, dear, especially when it comes to husbands. Now talking of David, do I detect a note of tension there?’

  Was there anything her mother didn’t miss? ‘He’s just a bit fed up with the agency, that’s all.’

  ‘Hah!’ Her mother leaned back against the sofa, as though pleased she had struck a nerve. ‘That’s men for you. Do you think your father liked me working?’

  Jilly was taken aback. ‘He seemed perfectly happy to me when we were growing up.’

  Her mother’s face assumed an odd expression which she had never seen before. It was a mixture of hurt and anger. ‘That’s because I fought tooth and nail to keep our marriage going. Don’t look like that, Jilly. You know your father isn’t an easy man to live with.’

  Were they talking about the same person? Her father had always been the jolly, happy one of the pair. He had certainly been a real hit with her friends’ mothers. A bit of a flirt, she could see with hindsight, but in a courteous, old-fashioned way with his trademark cravat and checked shirt.

  ‘Your father has always been one for the ladies,’ her mother now said tightly. ‘I knew from the day I married him that I’d have to keep on my toes. That’s one reason why I started my business, to be honest. Thought it would make me more interesting and distract me from wondering what he was doing during those long “meetings” after work. Don’t you think I’d rather have stayed at home and played mother like you?’

  Jilly was so shocked she could hardly speak. ‘Really?’

  ‘It would have been easier!’ Her mother’s cheeks were flushed with the drink – she’d had three tumblers already and it wasn’t even eight o’clock. ‘But my business brought in far more money than his salary as a lecturer and he got jealous. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t afford not to stay married. We both liked our style of living. And that’s not all …’ She stopped. ‘Isn’t that the front door? Your husband’s probably forgotten his keys again.’

  Talk about timing, thought Jilly as she reluctantly got up. What on earth had Mum been about to say?

  ‘David—’ she began as she opened the door. And then stopped. Because it wasn’t her husband at all. It was Kitty Banks, standing next to a very red-looking
Heidi. Oh God. Don’t say she’d discovered the made-up reference?

  ‘Mrs Collins.’ Kitty’s tone was clipped and distant. ‘I’m sorry to turn up unexpectedly but there’s something we need to show you. Go on, Heidi.’

  The girl thrust a mobile phone in front of her. On it was a picture of teenage boy who was – there was no other way of putting this – exposing himself. The spotty bottom looked vaguely familiar.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she began falteringly.

  ‘Your son, Nick,’ thundered Kitty, ‘has been sending photographs of himself to my au pair and some of her friends. They’ve also been sending rude messages. What I want to know is how they got hold of their numbers.’

  ‘I’ve no idea …’ she began. Oh no. Please no. A picture of Nick and his friends, ogling her au pair file in his bedroom, flashed into her head.

  ‘They must have got them from your records,’ snapped Mrs Banks as though reading her mind. ‘We only used your agency because you were local and I thought we’d support you. But you’ve let us down. Look at that poor girl who was murdered! And have you heard what happened to Marie-France?’

  ‘No?’ Jilly felt a chill go through her. ‘What?’

  ‘She let some burglars in and they locked her in her room. Luckily they’re all right but—’

  ‘That’s awful. I need to ring her immediately.’

  ‘Not until you’ve sorted this out first.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Her mother’s cool voice, amazingly level after all those gins, came up behind them.

  ‘It’s all right, Mum.’

  ‘I’m not just your mother, dear.’ She flashed a challenging smile at Kitty Banks. ‘I’m your business adviser. Now why don’t you come inside, all of you, and we will discuss the matter. I am sure we can sort out some resolution.’

  Jilly had to hand it to her mother. She was calm, firm and yet understanding at the same time. Yes, she agreed. Of course it was unfortunate but no harm had been done, especially if Mrs Banks was prepared to accept a free au pair placement when Heidi’s stay ended. ‘These teenage boys can be so difficult to bring up with their raging hormones,’ she’d added with a sigh. ‘Girls are so much easier.’

 

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