The Au Pair

by Janey Fraser

  ‘Is Antoinette coming too? I can’t stand her. Such a tart. And she really neglects her little girl.’

  Heidi made a face. ‘Difficult to stop her joining in. But we don’t have to have anything to do with her. There’s a whole crowd of us. Come on! It will be fun and you need something to distract you.’

  It was tempting after everything that had happened. ‘OK. Yes. Thank you. I will come.’

  ‘Mary-Frunch! You look beautiful!’

  Little Tatty Arna was tugging at Marie-France’s black sparkly skirt which she had teamed up with black leggings.

  ‘Thank you, ma chérie.’

  ‘Do you have to leave us?’ Tom gave her a sulky look. ‘I want you to give me another guitar lesson.’

  Incroyable! Since the burglary, the boy had been so much nicer to her. He’d also become really interested in learning to play; thank heavens she’d had the guitar in her room when they’d been locked in. Goodness knows how they would have managed without the distraction.

  ‘I promise that I will give you a lesson tomorrow.’

  He crinkled his face. ‘Can’t you do it tonight?’ He looked up at her beseechingly. ‘We want you to babysit, not horrible Mrs Pooface down the road. She makes us go to bed at nine o’clock and she takes away our iPads.’

  ‘Quite right too!’ Her heart gave a little flutter as Phillip came into the room. She could feel his eyes taking in her outfit approvingly. How good he looked in that crisp pink and white striped shirt over jeans and that nice pine smell which grew stronger as he came up to her.

  ‘Stunning,’ he murmured so only she could hear. Then he raised his voice. ‘Marie-France deserves her evening off, kids. She’s worked very hard. Now you can go and watch television while Mum gets ready and I’ll run Marie-France to the station to meet her friends.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ she began.

  ‘No. I insist. I need to go out anyway to get something. Come on or you will be late!’ He gave her an apologetic shrug. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing you talking on the phone to one of your friends about your arrangements.’

  She was both flattered and taken aback that he’d been eavesdropping. ‘You really did learn to speak good French, when you were working in Paris.’

  He gave a small shrug as though he was pleased with the compliment. ‘I also had a girlfriend from Nantes, long before Dawn, of course. Better not talk about that – she’s terribly jealous.’ He gestured that they ought to leave. ‘Dawn is still getting ready and if I don’t nip out for some fags, I’ll never make it through the evening.’

  It felt so good to be in the car with him! So right! As she stretched out luxuriously in the front of his car, she took a little sideways peep at him. Phillip was so handsome and he seemed to really care about her happiness, much more than Dawn.

  ‘Are you sure you feel all right to go out after your terrible experience?’

  ‘Bien sûr. I was not hurt.’

  ‘No, but it must have been frightening. You must be careful in London, you know.’ His hand accidentally brushed her thigh as he changed gears. ‘Sorry. Just make sure you don’t give out your address again.’ He laughed but in a way that suggested he was serious.

  ‘I won’t.’ She gestured at the group of girls who were already waiting. ‘Just here will be great. Thanks very much.’

  Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on both cheeks as she would have done a neighbour at home if he had given her a lift. Too late, she remembered this wasn’t common in England. He seemed slightly taken aback but also pleased. ‘Have a good time, Marie-France.’ He pressed a twenty-pound note into her hand. ‘That is for some drinks. No, I insist. Au revoir.’

  She watched him drive off, wishing for a minute that she was Dawn going out with him that night. No. That was terrible! He was a married man. She and Maman might be alike in many respects but not in that one.

  ‘Was that your family?’ asked Antoinette excitedly, tottering towards her in a ridiculous short skirt and high spangled heels.

  Marie-France nodded.

  ‘You were very familiar, ja?’ twinkled Heidi.

  Marie-France shrugged. ‘He is a good man. And do not look like that, you lot. I am not that kind of girl.’

  Heidi shrugged. ‘My mother’s friend came to England and married the father of her family. I would not say no if I had a father like that but mine is old and wrinkly. I see it when he comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing. I think he hopes I fall for him but he makes me feel sick even though he is immensely rich!’

  She made a face and everyone laughed.

  ‘Right,’ announced Antoinette. ‘Let’s go. We want to make the most of our night in London, don’t we?’

  Marie-France had heard of London clubs before but she hadn’t realised they could be so loud and so busy. She enjoyed the looks that she was attracting from boys pretending to be men with their spotty faces and pointed shirt collars. None of them attracted her in the same way that Thierry did but it was nice to be admired, especially when she was getting more attention than Antoinette.

  ‘You want to dance?’ asked one youth, who didn’t seem to have as many spots as the others. So she did. Whirling and twirling to the throbbing music helped to put the last few ghastly weeks behind her. Then there was a slow dance and he held her to him, tracing her back with his finger. It was not completely unpleasant if she closed her eyes and pretended it was Thierry.

  Yet somehow a picture of Phillip kept coming into her head instead and she found herself wondering what it would be like if the two of them were close like this. When she came back to find the others, they were hanging together with a group watching the room with narrow eyes. Something smelt funny.

  ‘You are smoking?’ she asked Antoinette angrily. How stupid. They could get caught!

  ‘Of course.’ The girl offered her a roll-up. ‘You want some?’

  ‘No thanks.’ Marie-France had never done drugs. Nor did she drink heavily like her friends were doing right now. She’d seen her own mother get out of control often enough and she didn’t want to do the same.

  ‘I am bored,’ said Antoinette suddenly. ‘We will go, yes?’

  ‘I’m enjoying myself,’ protested Marie-France. It would serve Thierry right, she thought to herself, if one of these boys asked her on a date. That would show him not to leave in a huff before she could explain and then go travelling without her.

  ‘Then you can stay on your own.’

  ‘Nein doch, Antoinette,’ said Heidi crossly. ‘That’s not fair. Remember what the teacher said about sticking together.’

  Antoinette shrugged. ‘It’s up to her.’

  Not wanting to stay on her own, Marie-France filtered out with the others into the night. There were so many lights! So many people! So much going on compared with Corrywood.

  ‘I want to go shopping.’ Antoinette had a gleam in her eye.

  ‘Thought you said you were broke,’ pointed out one of the others, Vivienne.

  ‘So what? I can look, can’t I?’

  Amazingly, some of the shops were still open, including a clothes shop with rails of jeans and tops hanging outside. Qu’est-ce qu se passe? To her horror, Marie-France saw that Antoinette had slipped a blue silk T-shirt into her bag and started running off down the street. The sharp-eyed shop assistant had noticed!

  ‘Stop,’ yelled the girl but Antoinette was a fast runner. Marie-France looked round in panic for the others but they too had scarpered. ‘No you don’t,’ said the shop girl as she made to run off too. ‘You’re coming this way.’

  ‘It is not me.’ Marie-France furiously tore at the girl’s jacket.

  ‘Stop it. You’re hurting me.’

  ‘I try to explain …’

  ‘You can explain to the police. Now shut up and come into the back.’

  It was awful having to be interviewed by the police again!

  ‘I do not take anything,’ Marie-France explained over and over to the policewo
man, who looked more like her mother’s boyfriend’s dog with that face. Why did Englishwomen not wear lipstick?

  ‘But you knew the other girls involved?’

  Marie-France hesitated. If she admitted as much, then Antoinette would be charged. Much as she disliked the girl, they were both French after all.

  ‘I do not understand,’ she lied.

  The policewoman rolled her eyes. ‘Let me repeat it then in clear simple terms. Were those girls friends of yours?’

  ‘No. I met them tonight.’ It was so easy to lie that she believed herself!

  The policewoman hesitated. ‘If there was more evidence, I’d charge you. But I’ll be kind and let you go on condition that you’re more careful about the company you keep. Got it?’

  Gratefully, Marie-France escaped out into the night air, hoping that the others would be waiting. But they were nowhere to be seen! Now she regretted standing up for Antoinette. Furiously, she made her way to the metro, which the English confusingly called the ‘tube’.

  ‘Please.’ She tried to attract the attention of a woman walking past with a baby in her arms, even though it was nearly midnight. ‘Can you tell me how to find Maril Bone?’

  The woman walked on as though she hadn’t heard but a nice man in uniform at the barrier told her to change at one station and then follow the signs to somewhere else up one escalator and then down another. It was all so confusing. By the time she got there, Maril Bone was deserted.

  ‘Please. When is the next train to Corrywood?’ she asked a man in an orange uniform. He consulted his chart. ‘Five forty a.m., ducks.’

  Tomorrow morning? Her heart did a little nauseous flip. That meant she would have to crash down here on the ground for the night. Marie-France’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Haven’t you anywhere to kip, love?’ It was a tramp shuffling up to her with brown baggy trousers held together at his waist. She could smell the urine from here! ‘You can stay with me if you like at my place. Look.’ He gesticulated towards a sheet of cardboard on the ground. Then he leered. ‘Come on. Don’t be shy. I know what you girls really want.’

  Mon Dieu! He was undoing his trousers! Marie-France’s skin goose-pimpled with terror as she backed away. You need to be street-wise in London, her English teacher had said. Remember that poor au pair who was murdered.

  Gasping, she ran out of the station and on to the street by the taxi rank. What was she to do now? Marie-France prided herself on being strong but now she was scared. Really scared. The other girls – even Heidi – had abandoned her. She didn’t have enough money for a cab let alone a room for the night. There wasn’t a train until the next morning. And she was freezing. Absolutely freezing.

  If you run into trouble, just give me a bell. Phillip’s words came back to her.

  Of course! She could ring the family. It was late, certainly, and Dawn would be furious but even she, surely, would see that it was better than sleeping on the streets. Her fingers shaking with cold and fear, Marie-France searched for her phone in her bag and dialled the personal mobile number he had given her.

  ‘Not a problem,’ he said in a wonderfully calm and reassuring voice when she explained the situation. ‘Just sit tight.’

  But where? She didn’t want to go back into the station where the tramp was lurking. And there wasn’t anywhere to sit outside.

  ‘Ing-land, Ing-land!’

  Marie-France stood in the shadows as a big group of football supporters lurched their way past, singing and roaring.

  ‘Ing-land, Ing-land.’

  Angleterre! Pah! At the moment, the last place Marie-France wanted to be was this wet windy country where her boss was a complete cow, a rude shopkeeper had accused her of stealing and her own father seemed to have vanished into thin air. For two pins – to use this ridiculous language! – she’d go straight home now.

  ‘Want to come with us, love?’ one of the louts yelled out. Another blew her a kiss – ugh! – but she ignored them and thankfully they passed on.

  This was so horrible! She shivered, wrapping her pink pashmina around her. And it was beginning to drizzle too. Still, there was nothing for it but to wait. In the meantime, she felt tempted to ring Thierry. Just to hear his voice. To feel comforted.

  ‘Salut, c’est moi …’

  It had gone straight through to answerphone. Well, he would see the missed call and, if he cared, might ring back. Putting her mobile back in her bag, Marie-France’s fingers closed around the little French/English dictionary she carried everywhere. Might as well use the time to brush up on those impossible verbs and tenses.

  I love.

  I did love.

  I would have loved.

  I should love.

  Finally, after nearly an hour, she spotted a little red sports car with the number place PHIL 1. Marie-France felt a flood of relief as she ran towards the passenger door, this time remembering to get in on the left. ‘Merci! Merci mille fois!’ Leaning towards her rescuer, she planted a big kiss on each of his cheeks.

  Phillip, so sexy in his leather jacket, looked flushed but pleased. ‘Sounds as though you had a bad time. What happened exactly?’

  So she told him about being pulled in by the shopkeeper even though it wasn’t her fault and then his face seemed to flicker slightly. ‘Better not tell Dawn this,’ he said. ‘She might not see it your way.’

  Another secret!

  He patted her leg reassuringly. ‘It’s all right. I believe you but not everyone would. Now I’ll turn on the radio and you can have a nap if you like. You look all in.’

  All in? What did that mean? Too tired to ask, she found herself sinking into a deep sleep, only waking when his voice said, ‘We’re here.’ With a start, she woke up, taking in the house that was still partly lit up. Thank goodness. For the first time since she’d arrived, Dawn and Phillip’s house felt like home.

  ‘Merci, encore.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Phillip’s face moved towards her and for a minute she thought he was going to kiss her. Part of her knew she ought to push him away but another part of her wanted to feel his mouth.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing!’

  She jumped.

  Dawn’s face was at the side of the car. ‘Seducing my husband like that, you dirty little slut. You’re sacked, Marie-France. Get out. Get out of my house! Now!’

  METRO NEWSPAPER

  A 25-year-old Lithuanian au pair was attacked in Bow last night. Her phone and bag were stolen but she was not seriously harmed. Police are investigating a possible link with the murder of a Bulgarian au pair in Hyde Park in July.

  Chapter 21

  HOW COULD SHE have done this? Matthew asked himself over and over again that night. How could his sweet little Lottie have systematically stolen the clutch of twenty-pound notes that he had hidden in his various traps for Genevieve and then declared with a face that would melt butter that of course, Daddy, she didn’t know where the money had gone.

  His daughter had wilfully allowed the poor girl to take the blame! Even worse, she had done the same to all the previous au pairs that summer, getting them into trouble in different ways.

  Some of it could just have been seen as childish japes but the consequence for Sozzy had been so grave that Matthew could hardly bear to think about it.

  It was time for a firm talk with Lottie. So the morning after Karen’s discovery, he tackled the subject over breakfast. ‘Lottie. Do you remember all that money that’s gone missing recently?’

  Her eyes widened. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Matthew felt a hollow beat of apprehension in his chest. ‘Karen found it hidden under your mattress last night when she went to tuck you in after you’d fallen asleep.’

  Immediately her cheeks developed two small red spots just as her mother’s had done when he’d told her about the text. If Sally hadn’t left her phone behind before going to work on the day he’d found out about her affair, he might never have been any the wiser. Maybe that would have been best �
�

  ‘You don’t think I put the money there, Daddy?’

  He had to hand it to her. She was a good actress. Frighteningly so for her age. ‘Well, who else might have done, Lottie?’

  She shrugged. ‘The tooth fairy?’

  ‘I don’t think she carries that much cash.’

  ‘What about Karen? She might have found it and—’

  This was too much! ‘Karen had never been in the house before. She did me a big favour by babysitting last night and it’s naughty of you to try and get her into trouble. It was you, wasn’t it, Lottie? You stole the money to try and get Genevieve the sack just like you left an unkind note for Sozzy so she wouldn’t stay and just like you told Berenice it was all right to try on Mummy’s clothes.’

  Lottie’s blue eyes filled with tears. ‘You’re being horrid to me, Daddy. I’m going to tell my teacher when I get to school.’

  He had a sudden vision of some more made-up stories which, this time, might be directed at him. Christina had warned him of this. What was it she’d said again? Something about bereaved children entering a fantasy world in order to escape.

  ‘Why don’t we tell Bryony about this,’ he suggested, trying to put his arms around her. Bryony was the child bereavement counsellor whom Lottie was still seeing on and off. However, Matthew was beginning to think that she wasn’t really helping. He’d had his doubts right from the beginning; she was only in her early twenties, which was surely too young to understand half of the things that he and Lottie had gone through.

  She pushed him away. ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Then how about someone else?’ The idea came to him in a flash. Christina had already mentioned that she didn’t specialise in children but maybe she would consider talking to Lottie.

  Her whole body was now heaving with giant sobs. ‘I want my mummy. I want my mummy back.’

  Matthew’s heart felt as though it was being shredded into tiny pieces and he felt sick at the same time. Had he been too hard on her? ‘Come here, my little princess.’ This time, she allowed him to give her a cuddle. ‘Shhh, shhh.’ Cupping her head with his hand, he rocked her to and fro on his chest. ‘It’s all right, Lottie. It’s all right.’